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Thursday, February 23, 2012

A God Moment

Some days are harder than others.
And then, there are the moments within the days that are unbearable. Some are expected, but the worst are the ones that overwhelm without any warning. Without any reason.


Yesterday afternoon I was picking up the house. Nothing major, and then without warning, the wave engulfed me. I was dodging the puppies when I realized I should have been juggling a six week old.

Not carrying six months worth of grief on my shoulders.

I have learned to just stop. If I let the wave come and I just ride it out, then I regain a sense of control much quicker. So, I went to Aidan's room. I sat in the recliner and looked at his things. I looked at his pictures. I missed him. I let myself cry for the things I am missing. I prayed.

I thanked God for Aidan. I thanked God for giving me the strength to love him and share him. I asked for a sign; reassurance that there is a purpose. I just needed a moment.

God talks in all sorts of ways. Previously it has been in a blooming flower, the sun shining through the rain, his birth date on the clock. God winks.

Other times he comes in loud and clear.

I wrote previously that I had been asked to write a devotional. I wrote it and sent it in. However, I NEVER expected it to actually be published. 

I found out today that it was indeed published. Aidan's story is moving, changing and impacting people all throughout the world.

God answers prayers. Not always with the answer we want. Not always in the time frame we want. But, he ALWAYS answers.


 

Monday, February 13, 2012

Sisters

“Sisters function as safety nets in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other.”
Carol Saline
 
My first friend. The only other person who knows the secrets of our childhood. My baby sister.
 
We couldn't be more different. I couldn't love her more. She is everything that I am not. She makes me want to be everything that I am.
 
I would do anything to protect her. I am her first defense. I am a force to be reckoned with.
 
We have had our ups and downs. That comes with such different personalities. But, without a shadow of a doubt, she is my built in best friend.
 
Throughout the years, we have been one another's support.
 
In September, she was my coach, she was my strength, she was my hope. And then, when I couldn't speak for myself she was my voice. She held my hand at Aidan's service.
 
She shares her most precious little boy with me. That boy brings such light even to the darkest of the dark.
 
I will always try and protect her.
 
I know I cannot always save her from hurt or disappointment, but I will always stand beside her. I will always walk with her. Cheering her on in the highest of highs and carrying her through the valley's that are just simply too deep.
 
Together, we have done amazing things. We will continue to do so. Because after all, she is a gift. She is my little sister.
 
James 1:2-4Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
 

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Hope

What do you write when you are asked to write a devotional? I have pondered this for the past two days. Another amazing opportunity has been offered to me. A dear friend has asked me to write a devotional for UMCOM and their Lenten devotional series for "Imagine No Malaria." What an amazing honor.


I really wanted to do it right. I wanted to convey that even in the darkness there are beautiful moments of peace and hope. Here is what I came up with.


Jeremiah 29:11
I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out – plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.
Life changes in an instant. In the time it takes to answer your phone, shut a door, or look at an ultrasound picture.
In the instant we heard the words, “It’s a boy”, a future was planned. Hope bloomed and our lives were forever changed. We were going to be parents.  
Just weeks later, time stood still. I was going into premature labor. It was too early for our precious boy to survive outside of my body. And just like that, we were making different plans. Our hearts were broken. Our lives were forever and inexplicably changed.
In the immediate days and weeks, we were surrounded. People were constantly coming by, bringing us food and sending us words of encouragement. We were being upheld by those who hold us close; those who could physically enfold us into their arms and ensure for that second that we were safe.
As time passed, we had to learn how to care for ourselves. We had to trust in this new path that had been laid before us. It was in these days that I was truly beginning to be able to process our loss and to try and understand what role God was playing in this.
Did he take Aidan from me? Did he look down and choose that I would be the one that would live without?
I searched and read and learned. I poured myself and all of my grief into my faith. And then, it hit me. I wasn’t alone. God had walked this path ahead of me. He was carrying me through familiar territory. And at the end of this journey, there is a promise. A promise of hope.
I will see Aidan again. I will hold him again.
I will get to rock Aidan and sing him his lullaby one day because Jesus went before him. God sacrificed his son so that one day, I will get to hold my own again.
So, on the darkest of days, I hold onto that. I search for the hope and peace that is promised and I put one foot in front another. I find the strength to share Aidan’s story. I allow Aidan’s impact to change me. I listen for God’s guidance.
I am a mother. I am the mother of a child in heaven. Aidan is surrounded by glory and peace. One day I will embrace and love him like not a moment has passed; all because of a God who loves so deeply he sacrificed his son to ensure that we were never alone or without his hope.
“I want to take a moment to thank you, Lord. Thank you for all of the blessings in my life. Thank you for allowing me to be Aidan’s mom. Thank you for your promises and for the assurance of being reunited one day in your glory. Thank you for walking this path before me. Thank you for showing your hope for me in the darkest of days. In your name, Amen”


Today was a big day on this journey. It was the first step on what will be a giant leap of faith. Prayers were heard and were answered. We have been blessed with the ability and hope of a rainbow amidst this storm. There is hope that one day we will get to bring home a sibling for Aidan. I still cannot say the words out loud without crying.
Tears of relief. Tears of joy. Tears of hope.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Answered prayers through an email

Tomorrow is five months. The last two weeks of them have been almost as rough as the first two. Seriously.

It was taking everything I had to get up and go to work. Let alone be a good friend, sister, daughter, wife or mother. I just wanted Aidan back. I wanted to be a mom that is easily recognizable because my child is in my arms. I just want others to know him and be in awe of his milestones.

Today, I found out that even though Aidan isn't in my arms, he is still reaching milestones. Totally different ones than the other babies around me, but still.

I received this while at work today. I was able to share our story further.


I found what life has been beating out of me lately. Aidan's purpose.

I needed a sign this big. This public. This picture.

Answered prayers are not on our time. They are on God's. Thankfully, he is putting this one out for the world to see.