Tag Archives: Grief

Charging through the Puddle

Standard

I haven’t blogged my emotions in a while, so this may seem a little willy-nilly (is that how you spell that word, Tennessee?), and I know it will be a little “rambly”, but here goes.  (Many of you have told me that you appreciate that I am “real” when I write, so thank you for allowing me the freedom to be “real” today.)

Some days I look at what lies ahead and think, “We can do this”, and other days, it’s more like, “HOW are we supposed to do this?!?!”  How are we supposed to be not just okay, but be productive, joyful, and victorious, despite the fact that certain horrific events replay in our heads time and time again?  How are we supposed to make sense of this?  How can we convince ourselves that everything is going to be “okay” when we just saw that really, it’s not always okay–life does not always deal a happy ending (on this side of Heaven).  Just because we pray, beg, and plead, God is not obligated to do whatever we ask of Him, and that has now been proven to us.  How can we celebrate with others when good things come their way, when our very heartbeat has been crushed?  How do we remove the filter of our reality that has covered our eyes, just for a moment, to be excited about the good around us?  You see, we once held our newborn baby girl in our arms for the first time.  We were all smiles as we thought about all of the good times that were ahead of us.  So what do we do when all of that is shattered?  How do we enjoy our life that we have here, in light of what happened to Sadie–how do we maintain a healthy marriage…love on our son…enjoy our friends and family…excel in our careers…and do good in whatever opportunity comes our way?

We trust God.  That’s how.  With tear-stained cheeks, we look up and trust God.  He gave us our precious babygirl for a reason, and He allowed her to leave this Earth prematurely for a reason, too.  He knew it would break our hearts, yet He knew it was what had to happen.  I don’t believe that it was an act of hatred toward us by God.  But I do believe that it went through His permissive hands.  In fact, it was probably an act of love that we may never understand.

But why?  That’s the big mystery.  Yes, good things are happening that would not have happened otherwise, but anyone who is a parent out there–would you be okay with giving up your child for any or all of this good?  I am so torn between wanting to charge ahead with my head held high, and wanting to just collapse in a puddle.  So today, I am making a very conscious decision to charge through this giant puddle.  All I have to do is keep my head above water and my eyes fixed on Him, and I will ultimately make it to the other side.  This has been a rough week (obviously), and I honestly can’t pinpoint why, but I have my eyes wide open to the redemption that only God can bring.  He has a purpose in allowing our Sadie to come here just for a short period of time.  He has a purpose for allowing us to be here today.  I don’t want to stand in the way.  I want to be present for that purpose.  And I want to do my part to make that purpose a reality.

I have thought a lot lately about this question, “Why is this life a prerequisite to Heaven?”.  What is it that we are supposed to learn and do here that will make Heaven a better place?  Since that’s where we all want to spend eternity, and since we already know that it’s a perfect place–what about it will be better as a result of the things we experience and do here?  I know that the church answer is that we are here to point others to God–to share the love of Christ with others and lead them to a personal relationship Him.  I agree with that answer, but if God wanted to, He could have had us all there with Him in the first place.  So there is something about life on this place called Earth that He finds worthwhile for us to experience before we head to our eternal home, if we choose to accept Him as our Lord and Savior, and follow Him with all of our heart, walking in faith the path that He has chosen for us.  I suppose the experiences of this life–especially the tough ones–make us long even more desperately for what is ahead.  Not to wish our lives away, but to long even more for a place that we innately have a desire to be in the first place.  If Heaven is our “home”, then isn’t it natural to long for it, and to feel a little out of place here?

I can honestly say that I like life here on Earth.  I’ve always been “happygal”.  I like to see the positive and be joyful.  I love to laugh and have fun.  I love to meet new people.  Yet sometimes the storm clouds seem to take over.  So, how do I step forward in light of life-experiences with a even a hint of a smile on my face?  For me, today, it’s because God is making it very clear to me that His purpose for my life is very different than I thought it was two years ago.  I kind of liked the “normalcy”, but it seems He has much more than normal in store over here.  And perhaps He has called some of you to be a part of this not-normal world of ours.  Or maybe He’s calling you to a not-normal world of your very own.  Something that He can only give you a passion for through your own life-experiences.  Something that He wants you to do that you would not otherwise be prepared for.  That part of all of this is what is keeping me wide-eyed and expectant as we “charge through the puddle”.

So, thanks for hanging with me today.  This is a couple months of thoughts all rolled into a few paragraphs.  I love you guys.

Advertisements

Soggy Scrambled Eggs

Standard

(Warning—this is raw and real.  So many have shared that you like my posts because I am letting you see the good, the bad, and the ugly.  Well that’s a good thing, because here goes…)

I’ve been wanting to sit down and write an update for a few days, but I have been without something divine or profound to share.  In fact, the past few days have been some of the hardest for us as we walk this new journey without Sadie right here with us.  We miss her so much, and are having a really hard time picturing life moving forward without her with us.  I miss being her mommy, and Tim misses being her daddy.  “But she will always be with you in your heart”, you say.  Yes…that is true…but I just miss being able to see her, hold her, hear her, be silly with her, create new memories with her, watch her grow and change…you get what I’m saying.  It’s almost like the fog is lifting and we are really just realizing the permanence of what has happened to our sweet girl.  We are left sitting in our home–the storm has come and gone (sort of), and we are sitting in a pile of wreckage. Wreckage of our hearts and souls.  Wreckage of our plans, dreams, goals, and desires for our little girl and for our family of four.  Our surroundings are familiar, but nothing feels right or normal right now.  It hurts on so many levels.  We cry over things like scrambled eggs and yogurt, walks down the sidewalk, playing in the side yard, music concerts in our house with one less member, and buckling only one kid in the car (although we are more thankful for the fact that we have Eli than ever before).  And although it seems we are not supposed to ask the question, “why”, it is difficult for that concept or question not to cross our mind.  I mean, yes we trust God and know that He works all thing for our good, but that doesn’t mean that we are just like, “Okay, cool—no biggie”.

So, here we are, 7 weeks after Sadie returned to her true home in Heaven, and I feel like I am playing tug-o-war. One side is tugging us toward “moving forward”, which we truly want to do as quickly as possible because this feeling inside is pretty miserable.  The other side is keeping us in a puddle of tears—like we are leaving Sadie behind if we walk forward instead of backward.  I mean, after all, this really did JUST happen, right?  I mean, three months ago today, we were home after Sadie’s first hospital visit, thinking we had a miraculous recovery from meningitis and encephalitis…

So, how long is a healthy amount of time to grieve something as hard as losing your 17 month old daughter to a vicious cancer in less than 6 weeks?  When are we supposed to feel “okay” again?  I honestly don’t know the answers to these questions quite yet.  But what I do know is that we are not done grieving, and although we are pushing forward as best as we can, we are not exactly “okay” yet—this is going to be a process that we probably shouldn’t rush.  We appreciate your prayers more than ever right now.  After all, our absolute worst nightmare just happened.  We just realized that bad things really do happen to “good people”.  I mean, we knew that in theory or in small doses before, but not like this.  We do trust that God is with us, and that He totally has the ability to allow for blessings despite this tragedy (actually, we are already seeing evidence of that), but all of that doesn’t take away the stinging fact that our sweet blue-eyed girl is not here with us anymore.  I am not sad for her—she’s in good hands—so I guess that leaves me selfishly sad for us.  Not just sad for Tim, Eli, and myself—but sad for everyone who had an opportunity to get to know Sadiebug, and even sad for those who didn’t get the chance to get to know her at all.  She was a very special gift and blessing to us from on High, and I honestly believe the world is a better place because of her.  So I’m just plain ol’ sad because I miss her so very much.

A dear friend of mine and Sadie’s—Ms. Katie—sent me this text the other day:  “There is not a foot too small that it cannot make an imprint on this world”.  She saw it on a preemie pic, but said it made her think of Bug.  I can totally see why.  I have a feeling if I had ANY IDEA the number of lives impacted and changed because of her life, I’d be blown away.  So many people have shared testimony with me, and for that I am SO THANKFUL.  It doesn’t take away the pain that I feel over losing Sadie, but it does help me to see evidence of God’s Hand in all of this.

One other thing that is worth mentioning is a prevailing theme in talking with two other couples who have lost a child in the past.  Both couples said this:  “Now is the time to live out all that we say we believed all along”.  So that means all of the prayers, songs, and responsive readings in which we have told God that we trust Him, have faith in Him, believe His Word, that we trust in His grace, and that we will remain forever faithful to Him no matter what.  All of that is being put to the test.  This is where the rubber meets the road.  I wish I were better prepared for this. Please pray that we keep our hearts and minds focused on the Lord.  That we continue to trust in His will, even when it doesn’t line up with ours…and please be patient with us as we figure out what our new normal is.

I will end on a positive note.  I love that my husband is real, and that he is not bottling up his emotions or pretending that he has this all under control.  I love it that we can cry together, and even try to laugh together at times.  Our conversations about what has happened with Sadie always end in a conversation about trusting God.  I am so glad that Tim is serious about his walk with the Lord, and that he is able spiritually and to lead our family through this trial.  The other thing I love and am EXTREMELY thankful for is Eli Davis.  Oh my goodness. He is three, and we have a ridiculous amount of love for him.  He still wants to play with Legos, build towers, watch Mickey Mouse, feed us plastic food.  He keeps us focused on the fact that our life is not over.  We have all kinds of blessings to be thankful for, and we would be doing ourselves a disservice if we fold because of all of this.  Eli is also extremely in-tune with our emotions, and he’s good at giving hugs and telling us, “Don’t be sad—it’ll be all fine”. Thank you, Eli, for showing us life through the eyes of a child.  We love you so much, and when you get older and read through this journal, I want you to know what an amazing treasure you are to us.

Psalm 34:17-18

When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears
and delivers them out of all their troubles.
The LORD is near to the brokenhearted
and saves the crushed in spirit.

Amen to that.  Glad I really do trust in His Word.  Thank You for this promise, Lord!

(Sidenote–BIG FAT THANK YOU to my friends in Melbourne and Orlando that donated and/or ran for Sadie last weekend.  AND ANOTHER BIG FAT THANK YOU to those who participated in the Thirty One fundraiser.  AND ONE MORE BIG FAT THANK YOU to all of the others who have prayed for us and for giving of your resources to love on us.  We are overwhelmed by the generosity of others, and we are excited about paying it forward as we push forward.)