How Can I Know That 2015 Will Be Wonderful?

On New Years Eve, in 2012, I literally declared on my facebook that it was going to be the BEST YEAR YET! And, I believed it with everything in me. But, that's the exact opposite of how I would describe the year of 2013. It turned out to be the very worst year of our lives, right along with most of 2014. 

So, why? If I declared it and believed it with it with all of my heart, why wasn't 2013 the best year of my life? Quite simply, I'm not exactly sure. Because, all I really know for sure is how much I don't know. Just saying that we don't know and realizing the truth behind the statement makes us all a little uneasy. Our minds long for answers, our hearts yearn for justice, and our souls pant for rest. Answers to all of the questions brought on by the terrible twists in this life, justice for all the tragedy we've endured, and rest from the pain and suffering that comes whether we like it or not. 

We all long for ease and some degree of comfort, but what we often get, instead, is chaos and challenges. Hurts happen to people all the time; disappointment is a regular occurrence; and suffering is so inevitable that God even promises that we will face it. Yet, somehow, we are still surprised when it comes. Why is that? Because, of course, we all want to believe the best. Who wouldn't rather think of sweet little sheep at night than fiery dragons? Who would want to think of the worst thing instead of the best thing? 

Yet, this past year, even with all my years of choosing to think of the good over the bad, the lovely over the yucky, and the pure over the unclean, I have had such a hard time believing for the good. And, it's effected me. I still have this yearning to believe that good things will happen instead of bad things; that justice will prevail over all. Because, even though I know that bad things do happen, I don't want to walk around expecting that they will. I still want to believe that the goodness and mercy of God will follow me all of my days, even though that's not what I can see when I look back to the day Christiano passed from earth to Heaven. But, I don't want the one circumstance that forever altered my life to forever rob me of the hope that Jesus has already provided for me; and at such a high price. 

We are blessed when we believe without seeing. I don't see anything close to the life I thought was laid out for me. I didn't see my life ever ending up this way. And, it makes me really confused and angry. But, somehow I still believe. I still believe that God has a beautiful plan in mind when He looks at me. I still believe that He loves me and that He will never stop. He has kept me, and He has held me. And, that is what gives me the confidence to step head into this next year. Because, no matter what happens, in feast and in famine, in sickness and in health, in lack and in wealth, in life and in death - He will be with me through it all. I've tasted and I've seen the love of God that can never ever fail. 

But, how can I know that 2015 will be wonderful? I can't. I don't. But, I do know that God goes with me! If I make my bed in hell, He will be there. He WON'T leave me. Ever. So, with that one promise in mind, Happy New Year, friends. Cheers - to a New Year that will be everything God has declared it to be. Redeemed by Christ, rich in His Love, made new by His mercy, and thriving by His grace. Those are my blessed assurances going forward in 2015. 

I'm Writing A Book!

Fifteen years ago, God impressed it on my heart to write a book. And, for fifteen years, I've been running from it. The night before Christiano passed away, just about seven hours before the phone call that forever altered our lives, my husband, Chris, brought me home an iPad. I opened it up and he had written a 'note' to me. It read, 'I got this for you so you can start your book. I believe in you.' I remember feeling ready in that moment; ready to obey what God has spoken to my heart so many years ago; ready to put the long hours of work in and discipline myself accordingly; ready to share the raw details of my life and to show the world God's beautiful redemption story.
But, at 6:41 am, on October 24th, everything changed. My story changed, my view of God became overshadowed by the darkness that flooded my being, my life - forever altered. 'Who would be able to see the goodness of God in my life now?' 'Why would anyone ever read my story?' That's what I've spent the last year asking.
Over the last ten years, my life had been completely transformed, from the ugliest of ash to the most beautiful picture of God's grace. But, I now felt it had been turned back; this time to the blackest and darkest soot I'd ever seen. And, I've spent many days doubting God's plan for me; associating the book with what followed a few short hours after my heart's declaration to do this thing.
Yet, somehow, fourteen months later, God is STILL being glorified. People STILL see beauty through the mess; sometimes, even I see beauty in my life.
All of this is to say...
Today is the day! Today, I begin the book that God will author through me. I've made a declaration to Him, and now I declare to all of you! Please, please, pray for me, and, PLEASE, hold me accountable! Let me know your thoughts, share your heart with me, ask me how it's going, and, most of all, be honest with me - as the Lord leads this project and finished what He started in me fifteen long years ago. ❤️

Lessons From My Sons

My fourteen year old son, Brian, was having a hard time and really missing his brother last night. We had gotten in pretty late from church, and it was way past his bedtime, but he asked if he could write something for Christiano. Like me, I think writing helps him to release his emotions.

Here is what he wrote...

People say that time heals. I say that only God can heal. When I look at the past year I don't know how I have gotten to the place I am now. It is still really hard to go to school and to church and put a smile on my face, even through the pain. I miss my brother, but I don't think that I would have been able to get through this rough time in my life without God. God has been here for me when nobody else has and sometimes it's hard to see that. A lot of people have heard that my brother died, but they have never heard about him. Christano was Funny, Smart, a Leader, a role model, and a brother.... But most of all he was a man I looked up to. When he wanted to do something, I would automatically do it because to me he was so awesome. When I heard he passed away a part of me left. I had so many questions, why MY BROTHER? How was I going to be the brother my siblings looked up to, and who is going to listen to my long boring stories and act like they are funny? God has shown me that Christiano is with Him and doesn't have to deal with the problems of the world... Even though I love and miss him, I am glad he is in the presence of God.

Yesterday was a difficult parenting day. One failed to communicate something important to me, another got in trouble in a class and was asked to step out into the hallway for some time. Over the last year, I've had to watch my children cry themselves to sleep, act out, be withdrawn, question God. One of my children can no longer hug with ease because it triggers the awful memories of the wake and funeral. Sometimes, I just feel so discouraged. Reading this reminded me that, just as God is with me, He is with them. So many times, I just want to fix this for them. But, there is no fix. The most important and effective thing I can do for my kids is trust God with them, but that can be a major challenge when you've lost one. None of us are unscathed by this tragedy. We are all broken inside. Yet, somehow, I still choose to stand on the promises of God for our lives. The ones that say He will be with us and never forsake us; that He is near to the broken hearted. 

I love the part that Brian wrote, 'A lot of people heard that my brother died, but not a lot of people know him.' My biggest fear is that people who know me won't know my son. It already feels like I talk about him less than I did a year ago. How will my grandchildren KNOW him? Is it truly possible for me to keep his legacy alive? This is just another concern that I have to bring before God. I have to let go and let Him do it - through me and through others.

 I also love how Brian has a sure knowing of who His help comes from. This journey of grief has taught all of us so much; lessons we just wouldn't have learned without this horrific tragedy. Some of what God has taught me feels like it may have been suggested by Christiano. Haha. Things like slowing down and saying no; things like being content and being present in each moment. I hate the reason we've learned what we have, and I loathe the what behind our changes. But, I'm grateful for the grace of God that teaches and changes us in the midst of this darkness. Christiano is surely smiling when he sees me laying in bed with Nate at night instead of rushing bed time, or all of us sitting on the couch talking about life and me doing more listening than talking. Christiano was the best listener. I'm convinced he left me his gift. He left us all with something; multiple something's, actually. There is a part of him in every one of us, and, for that, I am truly grateful. 

1 Psalm 121:1-2.
I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the Lord, t he Maker of heaven and earth.

So, Why Am I Thankful?

Even in tragedy, we still have so much to be thankful for. 

As I pause to reflect on my life this morning, I can't help but be thankful. And, not because there are people out there that have it worse than me. After all, tragedy is all around us;  disease and famine prevalent. Sadly, we all know and have experienced suffering in some way. The past thirteen months have been a torrential downpouring of grief, loss, heartache, and heaviness. Losing our first son on October 24th, last year, was only the beginning of a journey undesired. A journey that has revealed things in me that were hidden. I've yet to adequately put into words all that my heart has to say. I don't know if I will ever be able. But, it comforts me to know that God hears every cry, every thought, and every detail of my heart; the very language it speaks. 

Just now, as I type, I hear a loud thump downstairs. My first thought is that Christiano just woke up, but quickly my mind remembers that he is no longer here with us. Yes, there are still those moments that I forget for a second, and there are other moments that the idealistic pictures in my brain cause me to think there's still a chance that he will walk through the door. 

So, why am I thankful? Well, for many reasons. For starters - I am still here. There were many times in the beginning of my grief journey that I didn't know if I would make it. There were other times that I wanted not to make it. 'If i could just fall asleep and wake up in heaven,' I would think to myself. Not only am I here - alive and breathing, but I am present. I am wide awake to the life that I have been blessed with and aware of God's unending love for me. I am thankful for His love that endures all of this with me and for a savior who laid his life down for mine.

 I am thankful for my husband and the changes I have seen in him. I've seen him let go and let God in a brand new way. For him seeing God in me and encouraging me that there is a bigger picture than the one I can visualize. I am thankful for my daughter who makes my life so much fun. She has been more than just a daughter, but a true friend to me this past year. When I think of her hugs, her silly dances, her beautiful mind - well, I can't help but light up. I am thankful for my sons, all three of them; for teaching me so much about love, for seeing me through eyes of grace and mercy. To Brian for not letting me slack and for lovingly nudging me forward; for telling me I'm strong when I feel so weak and for reminding me from who my strength comes. To Nate for the powerful prayer sessions when I can't seem to pull it together and for all of the cuddles and snuggles. For always telling me 'you're the best mom ever,' and meaning it with your whole heart. For our family as a whole - I'm thankful. We've grown even closer to each other and closer to the Lord. We love harder and make each day matter most. We don't wait for tomorrow to say things that can be said now, and we make our moments count. For a church that is family; a place that I can go no matter what condition I am in, and for impact - the most wonderful group of young people. They are loving, kind, and give the best hugs ever. For my family who have been true friends, and for the friends who have been more like family. 

For the mothers who have gone before me or ahead of me in the most agonizing journey known to humankind - thank you for loving me. I couldn't do this without you ladies by my side. To Tammy - you have encouraged me to remember that this isn't our forever home. You've gone ahead of me, and you always made me feel normal when I thought I was crazy. Thank you. To Debbie - you let me in to your most sacred place and loved me. You called me honey and sweetie, and you have loved me even in your pain. Thank you. To Joann - we met in the very beginning stages at a support group for grieving parents. You had only recently lost Nicholas, and you shared your mothers heart with all of us. I knew right away we would be friends. Your love for your son was immediately recognizable to me. Your wisdom and love are so helpful to me. Thank you. I still hurt for you, every day. I love you, and I know that we were meant to be friends. To Cathy; who, just last week, unwillingly joined us on this journey. We are forever connected. Please know that I am here for you. Seeing you on Tuesday made me realize that God put me in your path for this very moment. Thank you. Just like he has put the three ladies In my path to help me, I am here to help you. I love you. 

And, lastly, I'm thankful for the eighteen years that I had my little boy. For his abundant joy, his infectious spirit and his hearty laugh. For his unique humor, his masterful story telling skills, his giving heart and his old soul. For his unconditional love, and his charming personality. For all of it. Even for the tough times, I am thankful. You certainly weren't perfect, Christiano, but you were perfect for me. 

I've heard it said that we can all find something to be thankful for. But, I don't think we have to search very far. There is just so much to give thanks for today. Even in the darkest moments, the light of God shines brighter. And, for that alone, I am thankful. 

Happy Thanksgiving, friends. I pray that you all find some beautiful in your day.

IN EVERYTHING GIVE THANKS. 1 Thessalonians 5:18

My Heart

'...He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life.' - excerpt from Footprints in the Sand

I think it is fair to assume that most of us, or even all of us, have heard the famous work of Footprints in the Sand. I have read or heard it dozens of times throughout my life and always thought, 'that's nice.' 

My younger years were filled with much heart ache and pain. I was always crying about something. My teen years were a struggle as well, mostly because of my own poor choices. So, at nineteen, when I surrendered my life to Jesus, I was severely broken. I remember, as I made my way to that altar, feeling a peace and a love that I had never experienced before. It was as if God showed up just for me. He came and met me right where I was. And, from that day forward - life just kept getting better. 

Of course, it didn't happen overnight. It was a process of renewing my mind to this brand new way of living. But, God was helping me to grow, and, for the first time in my life, I felt hopeful about my future. In my experience, hope is not something that can truly come alive in our hearts until we know Christ. For, He is the hope of glory.

Over the next ten years, we continued to follow hard after God. We wanted the life that He laid out for us, so we trained our children to know the Word of God, and we lived by example in our love for the Lord. We instilled Godly values and virtues in each of their little hearts, and they all had a personal understanding of God and His Word. 

Don't get me wrong; life was far from perfect. We were young parents, 23 and 25, with four young children, learning how to walk out the Christian life. We were not taught how to be married, or pay bills; we weren't sure how to keep a house organized or cook for a big family; we had no formal training on how to raise children, and we had to rely on the Lord for all of that. So, there were lots of trials, and lots of errors. We learned as we went and leaned on the Lord for encouragement. However, we did have something so wonderful from God and for each other - we had love. Whoever said, 'all you need is love,' is so right. Love is God, and God is love. Love truly is ALL you need. We had easy days and hard days; good years and bad years; seasons of harvest and seasons of drought. But, one thing remained - the Lord and His unfailing Love. 

I'd say one of the best days was Chris and I's fifteen year wedding anniversary. We were finally financially ready to have the wedding ceremony we never had. When Chris and I were planning, we both had this yearning in our heart to glorify God. We wanted people to see what God can do with a broken life - that He will forget our sin and remember all His promises to His children. And, that day did JUST that - it glorified God in our lives. We were given the beautiful privilege to stand before our God, our children, our Pastors, and our closest family and friends to say 'I do' all over again. Gabriella was my matron of honor and Christiano was Chris's best man. It was a beautiful ceremony, and there were only a handful of dry eyes in the room. 

Christiano made this post on his FB the morning of the vow renewal.

'Today is a special day. I get to see the most beautiful woman I have ever known and the man I have spent my whole life looking up to renew their vows to each other. My parents' marriage is an inspiration. They are an example to the world that it's never too late to do the right thing. I love you guys.' 

That post still takes my breath away. All parents wait for the day that their child will SEE. And, Christiano saw. 

That night, as I looked around at the 200 plus people, I said to myself, 'Wow, God. You did it. Our life has been completely turned around, and You get all the glory.' It was the most beautiful realization to have. To see the fruit of God's promises and the fruit of our labor collide and make this beautiful life. I remember thinking that life would be smooth sailing from here; that we had overcome by Christ and our testimony. No one could have ever prepared me for what happened 13 months later. 

Losing Christiano has felt like I'm dangling in the depths of hell, so desperate to be pulled out. And, I wonder how does my life glorify God now? How does our life look appealing to anyone? We've dealt with the greatest loss there is, and sometimes I feel like we've just plain lost. We've lost the fight; we've been robbed; we've been battered. And, the recovery is so slow... But, God is still good. He HAS carried me. I don't always see Him in my days, but I see Him when I look back. Just like the Footprints in the Sand, I don't always know when He's carrying me, but I do know He is always with me; watching, comforting, and loving me. And, He knows when I need to be held. I don't have to ask - He just picks me up when I can no longer stand. But, the truth is, sometimes, I feel ashamed of my life, and I want to hide it away. Sometimes, I feel like I failed God or I failed all of you who are watching. I've lost friends, and I think it's because my life is too painful for them. No one wants to think about what it would be like to lose a child. But, it has happened to more people than I ever realized before, and God has asked me to share my story. My life, His glory. That's my hearty cry and my hope. 

 It is incredibly painful to walk through this sort of tragedy without friends by your side. So, reader and friend, when I thank you for walking this with me, I mean it. With every intricate particle of my heart, I am grateful for you. My prayer for those of you who have followed our story, is for you to know that our God is a good God and that you would realize the height, the depth, the length and the width of His love for you and for me. 

Unsurvivable

'I'm sorry, but this is an unsurvivable injury.' Those were the words of the surgeon, around 2:00 am, on October 24, 2013. The words I laughed at and wouldn't believe. The words I fought against with every ounce of my might. That one short phrase has replayed over and over again in my mind, since last October; and, even more-so these past few weeks. A phrase that we we were convinced was a lie from the deepest pit of hell, has instead, become the coldest and hardest truth; one that we're still trying to accept. The surgeon went on to explain that Christiano had sustained severe injuries and had bleeding on both sides of his brain. He said if it had been just one side, they could have tried surgery, but because there was significant injury to both sides of his brain, he could  never survive the surgery. Of course, I told him that he was mistaken because our son was going to live. I told him to perform the surgery and to do whatever he needed to do to keep our boy alive. He kept telling me that I didn't understand, yet I wouldn't back down; I would not relent. I told him he better do the surgery immediately. He didn't hide his puzzled look, the one that showed me that he thought I was crazy, but I couldn't give up - I could not lose hope.   

The night went on for what seemed like forever. We prayed, we worshipped God, and we stood firm in our faith. We fought the good fight, and we never quit. Yet still, against every particle of our own wills, our son didn't survive the trauma to his brain. And, three hundred and sixty three days ago, after many attempts to resuscitate his lifeless body, Christiano Tré Barbosa died his physical death. 

Christiano isn't the only one who sustained unsurvivable injuries that early morning in October. Because, that morning I became very broken, too. The person I was, the mother I was, so much of her died in that hospital room. Her constant optimism, her open trust, her child-like faith, her unwavering hope, her pure heart - all of that, and more, seemed to die. There were times I actually thought I would die from a broken heart; the pain and sorrow - just too unbearable. Yet, somehow, I'm still here. In my brokenness, I remain. And, although so much of me did not survive that night, there are parts of me that are being reborn. Slowly, I'm trusting again and opening my heart in a new way. 

However, I am convinced that much of me needed to die that night. For, God would never want me to come through this the same. We are changed in His presence, and, this past year, into His presence is the only place I could go.  Even when I wanted to run away from Him, He relentlessly pursued me. Moses was changed in the presence of The Lord; Jacob was changed while wrestling with The Lord; Paul was changed after being knocked down off of a horse by the Lord. The presence of the Lord is the place that changes people. And, He goes with me through this dark valley. Even when I've wanted to hide my face from Him, He has not hidden His, and He has sustained me when I couldn't stand. However, I'm not the same person that I was a year ago. As I said, much of me died with Christiano and parts of me, too, were deemed unsurvivable - never to be resurrected. 

The biggest part of me that died was the 6 foot 9 inch section of my heart. Some say that God can restore all that's been taken from me, but that is just not possible. Not while I'm here on this earth. You see, Christiano is irreplaceable, and, until I'm reunited with Him, I can never be whole. Paul asked the Lord to remove the thorn from his side. We don't know what that thorn was, but we know that God said, 'No. My grace is sufficient for you.' Sometimes God says no. His answer was no when I asked for my son to live, and his answer was no when I wanted to go with him. Imagine how hard it must be for God to know that in one instant He could give us what we want and make all of our pain disappear. But, because He sees the future and knows what is best for us, He will not say yes. He will not change his mind, and He will never waiver. But, His grace truly is sufficient. 

In what has felt like a slow process,  some of the things in me that died are being reborn. And, they're even stronger now; built on a REAL, solid ground. My faith isn't in my faith or my prayer, but it's built on the measure that GOD has given me. It's not just words or make believe. Also, I'm seeing beauty again - mostly in the little things. I'm pursuing God instead of a platform, and I'm loving my kids the way Christ has loved me. I'm more aware of my need for a Savior than I ever was before, and I'm ok with missing the mark. What I have with God is more real than it ever was before. I've been tested and tried, but God hasn't moved from me. He endures it all with me, and He is making me new. I'm not who I was, but I'm not sure that's such a bad thing. I hate how the change has come. I hate that my son is gone, and I hate that our family has gone through this. But, I'm grateful that God hasn't allowed me to quit. I'm grateful that he won't let me fail, even when I fall. 

Fake It 'Til You Make It?

'Fake it til you make it.' We've all heard this catchphrase, and we've all, at one time or another, made our best attempt to follow it. Some of us are still trying to live out this flawed command; the command that warrants plastered smiles, positive speech, and optimistic thoughts. The phrase that tells us to say no to any real exposure and yes to hiding it all within. The issue I have with this 'idea' or 'philosophy' is that it stifles our God given freedom and right to feel. It also diminished the TRUE joy and peace that God gives to us. It's like an artificial sweetener; it tricks us into thinking it is the real deal, but the side affects actually leave us empty and craving the real thing. 

God made us to have feelings, and we see that in our perfect High Priest, Jesus. He is not a religious High Priest, but one who has experienced real suffering, cried real tears, and shed real blood. Jesus, our beautiful example, has never been one for faking it. In fact, we see just the opposite - Jesus was and IS the real deal. He had a real confidence that no matter what came His way, God had a perfect plan. And, unto death, He trusted that plan. 

That's where I want to be. I want to trust God and His plan for my life and the life of those I love. I desire TRUE peace and TRUE joy that only comes from Him. And, that is why I will never ever fake it. Not because I have some sort of great wisdom on the subject, because, believe me, I've partaken in faking it before. I've plastered a smile and said that all was well - even though inside I was so overwhelmed with my life. I've yelled at my kids the entire way to church then put my best foot forward when walking into the building. And, I've gotten mad at my husband, while extending all the grace in the world to others. But, I'm so done with that life. My REAL God deserves a REAL child - one who is aware of who she isn't without Him, but knows who He has made her; one who doesn't want to do it in her own strength, but leans fully on her Father; one who isn't closed off and too afraid to be exposed. And, above all, He deserves a child who let's her Daddy in - no holds barred. 

My chains are gone, and I've been set free. So, why on earth would I re-build the walls that Jesus gave His life to tear down. I'm a real mom who's experiencing real grief, and I won't ever apologize for it. My God is bigger than my pain, but he doesn't ask me to pretend. He wants all of me; the messy, broken, scared and confused me. And, it is the real me that He shall have. For, I am His and He is mine. 

'Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.' Philippians 3:12

Our Final Goodbye

Last Columbus Day Weekend, we had such a beautiful time together as a family. All six of us laughed, played, ate, and talked about anything and everything. It was your first overnight back home since you had left for school in August, and I couldn't have been happier to have all four of my children under one roof. Sunday night, you fell asleep on the couch. I woke you up so you could sleep in a real bed... I knew those college dorm beds had to be so uncomfortable. I guided you down the stairs and helped you into bed. I tucked you in, and you smiled from ear to ear with your eyes still closed. I kissed you about six times all over you face and you let out a giggle. Within about five seconds, you were fast asleep again.

The next day - Columbus Day, we made the most out of every minute we had together. I made you a breakfast consisting of all your favorites. Throughout the day, you kept coming up to me just to hug me and tell me just how much you loved me. You asked me how to get the funny smell out of your sponges, and you even thanked me for all I'd done for you over the years. You played street football with your siblings, and had deep chats with your dad about sports, music and life. I made you a feast, very thanksgiving-like, but with a whole chicken instead of a turkey. You loved every second of your time here and mentioned that you wished you could stay.

When it was time for me to bring you 'home,' you asked your Dad if he would come for the ride. It seemed out of the ordinary since I did most of the transporting from here to Bryant. But, I could tell it meant a lot to you, and so could Dad. Of course, he happily agreed to come along. When you said goodbye to your siblings, I felt sad. It still seemed so 'off' at home without you. Our family was always together, and I don't think any of us had quite adjusted yet to your absence.

The ride to campus was wonderful. We talked about your classes, C.S. Lewis, Christiany, your future plans, your friends and, of course, volleyball. You were doing SO well, and I just had such a peace about where you were headed. When we arrived to Bryant, we sat outside in the parking lot for a bit and continued to chat. You had a slight cold that weekend, and Dad asked if he could pray for you. You said, 'Absolutely. I'd like that.' Dad prayed for your cold, for wisdom, for peace in your mind, and for your relationship with The Lord. Towards the end of the prayer, Dad thanked God for you and asked him to protect and guide you. As my hand laid gently on your knee, I will never forget the end of that prayer. 'God, we give this child to you. Please have your way with him. We release him into your care.' As Dad, spoke those final words, I began to cry. Not because I didn't want that, but because I knew Dad was right, and that it was time for us to let you grow up. (So hard for a mommy.) I wanted to KEEP you from so much. I wanted you home with me, all day, every day. But, the hard truth I've come to know is that you were never mine. I was just the one who God chose to love and care for you for eighteen years. Oh, how I wish it was more.

How could I know that one the evening of Columbus Day, 2013, we would be saying goodbye for the last time? I couldn't. But God knew... And, I thank Him for making that weekend so special for us. I miss you so much. I can barely get through writing this to you, as the tears blur my eyes and soak my face. This is not the life I want, but it is the life I've been given. And, if avoiding the pain means that I would never have had you, then I'd still opt for the pain. Christiano, people truly have no idea how special you are, but God does. Your existence CHANGED me, and I will never be the same because of your love. I know our last goodbye was the final one because when I see you again - it will be forever. And, my mommy heart who wanted you with her all day, every day will one day be fully satisfied.

Party Of Three by Jessica Perlman McGuire

In March, of 2013, our family was at Chuck E. Cheese celebrating my niece's seventh birthday. Over the years, I have come to realize that there are three groups of people who go to this establishment: In the first group, there's the kids (and some adults) who tirelessly run around, enthusiastically playing all of the games, wining tickets for prizes, eating lots of pizza, and generally having the time of their lives. In the second group, you have the parents and caregivers; chasing their kids around, replenishing their token cups, purchasing food, wiping away tears, talking their children out of selecting the caffeinated soda, and attempting to get five minutes of uninterrupted adult conversation before being summoned to replenish the token cup once again.

And there is the third group --my group-- the people without children, who are simply there to celebrate family members or children of friends. In my group we play a few games of Skee Ball or Basketball. We eat a couple of slices of pizza, sing "Happy Birthday," and enjoy some cake. We smile at the birthday boys and girls excitedly opening their presents. We love our family and friends and we are so thankful to celebrate with them; however, we also feel as though we stick out like sore thumbs.

My husband Shane and I were looking forward to seeing our family that day, and of course, giving the birthday girl a big hug! We were also prepared to take our rightful place in the third group. Upon entering the building, we immediately saw Shannon, Chris, Christiano, Gabriella, Brian and Nate. We greeted one another with warm hugs, (there really is nothing like getting together with family!) purchased some food, and took our places in our booth.

Our niece arrived shortly after, and the event officially began. It was a lovely party and all of the kids seemed to be having a great time. The parents were busy keeping those token cups and bellies filled, and Shane and I sat back, visited the family, and observed our surroundings. I soon realized that Christiano had not left our booth the entire time. The three of us had been continuously chatting about movies, music, television programs, books, school, and our upcoming wedding. We decided to play a game of Skee Ball, and yet the conversation and laughter didn't stop. We were seriously having a blast at Chuck E. Cheese! Shortly after, the three of us and continued to chat and laugh for the remainder of the party. The three of us. It suddenly hit me that we had just formed a fourth group - Our Group. 

Shane and I will soon be entering into the '"second group," as we are expecting our first child in July. I can already see myself chasing our child around Chuck E. Cheese, and probably with lots of hand sanitizer! However, nothing will ever compare to that day that Shane, Christiano, and I formed Our Group. My Chuck E. Cheese memories go back well over twenty years, but that day will forever hold a very special place in my heart. 

Christiano was an unbelievable person. He was funny, empathetic, smart, and so incredibly loving. His heart exuded kindness, and he believed in people. He truly saw beauty in every single person. I miss Christiano every single day. It pains me that he won't be able to meet his cousin here on Earth, but this child will KNOW him. We will share our stories, smile at the photographs, and laugh until we cry as we watch the videos. Our child will share Christiano's middle name. We will keep his memory alive, and continue to be inspired by him, because that's what he is - a truly beautiful inspiration.

I Grieve

So, I usually write a blog on the 24th of each month. It's a method for me to express my heart the only way I know; through writing. Today, I woke up thinking I had no words. Every time I think that Christiano will have been gone a year next month, I can't help but cry. I can't help but feel like it's not fair. Our family is still so broken. And, behind closed doors we are all fighting our own individual battles. 

There is nothing worse than losing a child, but one thing comes close. And, that is watching my surviving children try to live through it. Innocent children, who've been nurtured and protected; children who have known nothing but complete peace and security in The Lord, have now been robbed of their big brother, and traveled through hell and back. At the tender ages of 14, 13, and 11, they experienced something that is unnatural, unfair, and unfathomable, and they will experience it every day for the rest of their lives. They don't understand the things they were once so certain of, and they wrestle with the why question. Why was their brother was taken? Why didn't he survive? Why our family? Why are we going through this? 

To have to look them in their tear filled eyes and say, 'I don't know,' has been one of the most difficult things for this mother. See, some kids have this concept that their parents know everything. They look to us for guidance, and we are called to be their protectors. Instead, I offer no answers and I still feel like somehow I didn't protect my kids. I feel completely inadequate in all areas of life, these days. I've truly come to the end of me. I'm tired, confused, and broken. But, I'm broken before The Lord. I'm knowing His strength because it's present when I have none. There's just so much I grieve for. I grieve mostly for my son. I want him back so badly, and the desire NEVER leaves. I grieve for my husband who is going through the fire in more ways than I can count. I grieve for my children who just want their big brother back and who miss their mom and dad. I grieve for myself because I'm missing. I don't know where the carefree, bible reading, fun-loving, happy, and praying woman is. I don't even know HOW to pray anymore. I grieve for my family - the way we once were. I grieve for my hopes and my dreams. I grieve. Eleven months, and that's still what I'm doing... I'm grieving. And, it's hard, hard, work. 

God is rearranging me. I'm being put back together. I'm being made new. But, it's a painful process. And, my flesh doesn't like any of it. My flesh feels like being stuck would be better than being pruned. But, the Spirit in me is strong. For, it's not by my strength, nor by my own might, but by His Power - working in and through me to will and to do. So, I keep trucking along. And, when I faint, I just wait for the rescue. And, I grieve, and I wait. And, I wait, and I grieve... 

When Did I See Morning?

As I sit here, sipping my coffee, on this early, crisp, and Fall-ish morning, I can't help but be grateful. You see, there was a time - not too long ago - that I couldn't get out of bed without a fight. Mornings were spent replaying the last eighteen years of a life that is no longer mine. Very rarely did the mornings come without a wish that they hadn't come at all.

When did my pillow stop being soaked from my tears? When did I stop sleeping past the sunrise?When did I stop having to take a sleep-aid? When did I stop having night terrors, and when did the replay in my mind stop reeling? The truth is - I'm not exactly sure. But, this morning I'm thanking God for it. The God that I sometimes feel distant from - the God that I often wonder silently, 'where are you?' Then I ponder this - could it be that He's been here all along? That He's never left me - not even for a minuscule moment?

You may be thinking, 'Shannon, you know what the Word of God says. You know He is never ever going to leave you. You've said yourself that He is with you in this darkness.' And, you're right; about all of it. But, sometimes I forget to remember. Sometimes I struggle to know that He is near to my broken heart. Sometimes, I feel lonely and afraid; like I'm hanging on by a thread. And, sometimes... I even doubt God.

But, this morning, I'm thankful. Thankful that God's faithfulness doesn't depend on me; thankful that He doesn't love me the way I love Him; and thankful that He is constant - even in in my wandering. And, I am oh so thankful that, although I don't feel Him in each moment, I can look back and know that He has carried me; that He never grows weary or tired of me. For, I am His and He is mine. Forever.

Brotherly Love

Little things continue to be the big things. This picture may not look like much at first glance, but for me it speaks volumes. This here is Natey-Boy, our youngest son, walking to the bus stop for the very first time. He is sporting his big brother, Christiano's, back-pack. He asked us if he could have it, so he could keep a part of Christiano wherever he goes. 

Last October, when Christiano passed away, Nate was never able to fully return to school. Eventually, his overwhelming grief caused him to have to finish 6th grade at home. So, you see, this picture means more than anything seen; it means that the healing has begun. #itsthelittlethings #littlebig #morethananythingseen

Ten Months

It's so much more than losing our son - as if that isn't enough.

It's the living without him every day and the knowing that he won't ever be back here with us. It's the replaying of October 24th that never stops

It's watching a baby brother retreat in the areas he used to thrive and a middle brother carry the weight of playing a role he was never created for.

It's seeing a sister doubt all the things she once knew; trying to make sense of the fact that her brother won't be here when she graduates high school or walks done the aisle.

It's hearing the moans and groans of a father in the night and knowing he will awake to the same mental, emotional and physical pain he fell asleep with.

It's my heart longing just to touch my son once more; to stroke his face, to place my hand on his shoulder, to stand on my tippy toes to kiss his cheek, to hug him and never let go.

It's pain and heartache every day.  It's an unwanted knowing that life can be gone in an instant. It's worrying about my children every time they aren't with me. It's the piling up of bills and the trying to play catch up for the time we just couldn't function. It's the floods that came, one forcing my husband to switch the location of his business, and the other still plaguing our basement with mold. It's our family unit all handling our grief in different ways - and it's me trying to be there for everyone. It's doubts and questions from my children that leave me speechless and without answers. It's crying out to God, pleading for him to reveal Himself to our children. It's watching the strongest man I've ever known take on a whole different disposition; limping from the recent rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis and walking with a hunch - both because he misses his boy. It's the two of us trying so hard to hold it together but, at times, find ourselves drifting apart. It's working when I want to home with my family because I know they need me now more than ever. It's life on hold - unfinished projects, shattered dreams, and a blurry picture of a future once so clear. It's trusting in God when I just want to crawl in a hole. It's a daily hope that our suffering will cease and God will fix our family. It's a constant struggle and battle in which we have a choice - do we surrender to the enemy or do we surrender to The Lord? Do we cave under the pressure, or do we let it refine us? It's a persistent faith that our battle has been won and we will see the other side, someway; somehow.

I will not sugar coat it. The last ten months have been complete and utter hell for our family, and this only scratches the surface of it. All I can say with confidence is that Jesus knows our suffering - He paid the price for all of it. God knows what it's like to lose a son, and He sacrificed His son just for me. Is that enough? Is it enough that God made a way for me to have eternal life? I can truly say, it's everything to me. It gives me hope and provides me with a future. Someone recently asked me, 'how can you still say that God is good?' My answer, minus the tears, cries, and blubbering, was simply this, 'He saved me, and I've seen His hand upon my life.'

As awful as this past ten months have been, I am trying to maintain a grateful heart through this season. I'm beyond thankful for the love of my family and the friends who have prayed for us. I'm thankful that I've gained an access to God that not everyone gets. I know what Paul meant when He said 'I've been crucified with Christ,' and I'm slowly learning the second part that it's no longer I that lives, but Christ in me.'

One day our suffering will end, and we will come face to face with the One who took our place in hell and made our place in Heaven. Ten months is a long time. But, eternity is forever.

Sometimes, It's More Like A Crawl

Sometimes, it's more like a crawl.

It's more like a crawl than a walk these days. My zeal and passion for life hidden so high on the mountain I'm on. Or, maybe it's back at the bottom somewhere. I'm really not sure. When crawling is the method in getting from A to B or from bottom to top, you're not quite sure you're getting anywhere, or if you ever will. The top of that mountain seems endless to me most of the time; almost unattainable. Some of my dreams are up there, but too many more of my dreams lay shattered at the bottom. I'm tempted to go back and lay in the rubble - to become one with the dead dreams that have fallen so deep within the soil. Sometimes, I feel like I've died already because such a big part of me has. Not just someone I once held and laughed with and dreamed for, but a very piece of my heart is in that soil - dead and buried. The dreams at the top just don't seem as attainable anymore, nor do they appeal to me the way they once did. Will I ever return to me? Will I ever reach the top? Will it matter if I do? These are the things I'm not sure of. These things, along with so many others.

Psalm 73:25 says, 'Whom have I in heaven but you? and there is none on earth that I desire beside you.'  But, I'm here IN this earth right now. So how do I keep going? How do I stop crawling and begin walking again? I want God to move in me. I want to experience Him in ways unimaginable - to feel him holding me and guiding me. Jesus felt forsaken, and we see the beautiful outcome of him pushing through. Even unto death, he didn't quit. I feel forsaken, but, if I'm honest, I don't feel as strong as Jesus. I don't know how to push through right now.
Maybe, I will look back and see that God has been carrying me all along and pulling me through these dark times. That's what I want - for God to be glorified. But, God doesn't crawl and God doesn't faint. Why am I crawling? Why aren't I soaring? Something is holding me back with every step. A part of me is stuck in October 2013, and none of me is ready to face October 2014. I don't want this. I often say out loud, 'This cannot be real. This cannot really be my life.' I guess I'm still waiting to wake up from this nightmare.

I want to be the carefree woman with child-like faith again. I want to be able to answer my kids questions and offer my friends hope. I want to be everything I was and everything I'm not anymore. I miss me, and I don't like crawling. It hurts, and it's exhausting. It doesn't get me where I want to go fast enough, and it's easier to fall flat on my face. I'm shaky and unstable in the places that were once so firm and founded.

But, in this moment it's all I can do. And, I have to remind myself that it is better than sitting stationary and it's better than laying down dead. It's better than quitting, and it's better than going backwards.

Sometimes it's more like a crawl.

It Is Well

'It is well with my soul.'

True words, but so difficult to speak.  Missing my son more and more with each passing moment; even with the knowing that there will be a day that I will meet  him face to face, and all my pain will disappear. How we all long for a day with no more suffering; no more struggle. So, how can we speak those challenging words? How can we say that it is well?

 All of us have been through something to make us question. This earth life is rocky. We fall and get hurt, and we get pushed down more times than we can count. Life can knock the wind right out of us and strip us of every material covering we've ever known.

But, we do have a hope and we do have a future. Somewhere, deep within we sense the outcome - in the very roots of our heart and the complex strands of our DNA. We were made to believe in the God who loves, heals, delivers, and saves us. So, our heart cannot help but go back to Him. Those of us who are running can only run for so long, until we become captured. He won't ever give up on His pursuit of us. He won't relent. His capture is more like a rescue that frees us from the bondage of death. One day, death will die and it will lose its grip on God's children forever. And, it is for that reason alone that I can say, 'it is well with my soul.' Because as real as our pain is, it will all end one day. But, His love won't end - His love never will. This is how the weak can say, 'I am strong,' the blind can say, 'Now, I see,' and the poor can say, 'I am rich.' This is how I can say, 'it is well.'

Nine Months

Nine months it took to perfectly form you in my womb; to grow each organ and form every bone; to expand your lungs and strengthen your beating heart. Nine months to lengthen each finger and toe and to shape each vessel; to awaken your five senses and fill your brain with the necessary knowledge to survive outside of me. Nine months for me to feel like I'd known you my whole entire life; nine months to prepare to be your mother forever. Nine months for me to know a connection so deep, and nine months for me to anticipate meeting you face to face. Nine months to imagine all you would be and all you would do. Nine months to feel you grow inside of me and nine months for me try and grow up for you. Nine months for me to decorate your nursery and plan what you would wear home from the hospital. Nine months of a love that I'd never known. Nine months of talking to you and sharing my dreams with you. Nine months of feelings not known before - exuberant joy, giddy excitement, hopeful expectation were just a few. But, there were also times of worry, fear, and anxiousness. Nine months to be ready, prepared, confident. Nine months to know that one can never be ready. Nine months is all it took to bring your beautiful life forth to me. And, in one moment you were gone. It doesn't seem right. I doesn't feel fair. I wanted you with every ounce of my being from the moment I knew you were conceived. For nine months, I carried you. And, it's been nine months since I carried you for the last time. 

It's been nine months. Nine months of hell. Nine months of not talking to you or kissing you or hugging you. Nine months of shattered dreams that will never be and purposeful plans placed on a shelf. Nine months of pain and desperation; chaos and confusion. Nine months of anticipation;  when will I get to be with you again? Nine months of giving up and surrendering all and nine months of wrestling against my own flesh and blood. Nine months of an extra chair at the dinner table and a closet full of your clothes. Nine months of regret about things that were said, but even more painful are the things left unsaid. Nine months  looking at life through a new set of eyes and nine months to remember everything that you taught me. Nine months of reminiscing - replaying every good laugh, recollecting each kind word and cherishing every past hug. Nine months of falling on The Lord like I never have, and resting in His promise. Nine months of knowing that I don't know. Nine months of being changed into His image. It's been nine months, but this time I'm the one being carried; carried by the same God who has carried you then and is carrying you now. And, I'm being shaped, molded, changed and reformed to look more and more like Him.

 It's hard. I don't want to spend one more day without you, Christiano. I don't want to forget anything about you. There's so much of you still inside of me. Maybe that is why they say that having a child is like having your heart walk around outside your body. We are forever connected, and a part of my heart is forever missing as long as I'm here without you. I love you, my baby boy. Always and forever. 

A Day Of Freedom

Over the years, I have heard and seen the many breaking hearts of military mommas. If I overheard a mom talking about her son serving oversees, and how much she missed him, I would feel so sad for her. Or, if I'd see a Facebook post from a friend missing her military daughter, who wouldn't be coming home any time soon, I'd think of how hard that must be. The ones that really got me were the mothers who hadn't heard from their baby in quite some time, and they weren't sure if their child was even safe. Those posts would tug so hard at my heart. But, the ones I feel most for are the parents who have said goodbye to their children, only to never see them whole again; either by way of physical death, emotional death or, worst of them all, spiritual death. I pray for these moms and dads specifically on this Independence Day.

Independence Day represents so much for our country; freedom, liberty, justice and more. It is a day that we give thanks for living in the land of the free, but more importantly, the home of the brave. Without the brave men and women who risked their lives, even unto death, we would not have the luxuries that we do. 

A few weeks after Christiano passed away, I had lunch with a friend. I was explaining to her that through this tragedy my heart was so broken. But, not just for me, for other moms who had lost children, the grieving moms who nursed their sick child until death, moms who lost their child in an unexpected accident, and the military moms who lost their children fighting for my freedom. I could relate now to how it felt to send your son out into the world to be independent for the first time ever; to be free to make his own choices, even though you'd really just like for him to stay under your care forever. I could relate to waiting for a call from him and feeling so excited when the phone finally rang. But, worst of all, I know what it is like to never get that chance to say goodbye; to be robbed of that last hug or those final words. Sharing this with my friend was helpful. Especially, because I will never forget what she said to me. She said, 'Shannon, you can relate because you are a military mom. Your son is a soldier who fought in an army, too - the Lord's army. And, he has probably received all kinds of medals and honor.'

How that blessed me that day and continues to now. Because, as free as we may feel in America, we are never fully free until we receive this truth - that there is One who truly paid the price for our freedom, so that we never have to die. His name is Jesus, and He is the most brave. Even though He was innocent, He took on all of our pain, our sin, our death, so that we might LIVE forever to be with God for all eternity; to a place with no pain and no death - where we will see our loved ones again. And, that is my hope on this first Independence Day without my soldier. Life is not easy, and the pain we experience is real, but there will be a day with no more suffering and no more pain. My friends, it is there that we will see the best display of fireworks; and what a glorious day it will be. 

'And [Jesus] being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient unto death—even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,to the glory of God the Father.' Philippians 2:8-11

A New Day

So, I have an announcement for you, my friends...

After living on this earth for thirty- something years, I have my first full time job, and I start next week! It's crazy, scary, exciting, overwhelming, timely, and 'right,' all at the same time. I've been looking for just a little while and just started to send my resume out nine days ago. It is all happening so fast! I had my first interview last week, and they offered a second interview that same day. Preparing for an interview was kind of scary. I have only had a couple formal interviews in my life, and they were years ago. Most of the jobs I've gotten in the past have just come to me, so going out and seeking one was a little out of this lady's comfort zone. I dropped my keys, (which made a really loud noise) put my previous work experience in the previous address column, ( I had to ask for a new fourth page) and dropped a bunch of change out of my wallet when I was placing my license back into it. This was all BEFORE my first interview. As I looked around at all the people waiting for their first interview, I felt very inadequate. I thought a few times, 'What am I even doing here?' 'They aren't going to hire me.' I had to fight off some pretty negative thoughts as I waited to be called. I just kept praying and asking God to make a way if this was Him and to calm my nerves and anxieties. 

When my name was finally called, the interview went extremely well, except one part. The interviewer let me know that there were only two day positions left and what they were really looking for were night employees. I explained to her that I needed to have days because I needed to be with my family at night. She understood, but was honest enough to tell me that there was a good chance I would have to work nights until at least January.

She then asked me to have a seat because I had been chosen for a second interview. As I waited for interview number two, I pondered all kinds of scenarios in my head. Could I do this? Could I make it work just until January? I would get home at 8pm, which would give me just about an hour with the kids. Through the scattered thoughts, I heard my name being called for part two. 

The second interview was a little more intense. The woman asked lots of questions that I hadn't prepared for, but I was grateful that God gave me answers to provide. I know it was His help because the interviewer kept saying, 'great answer.' Once the interview was over, she told me I would hear back from someone the following week. I left still wondering how I could make a night schedule work for our family.

We had church that night and as I was sharing with a friend about the interview and the job, I just said out loud what I needed to be saying all along. 'I'm not going to take it if they offer me nights.' Sometimes, talking things out leads you to your answer. I told my friend that I was just going to trust God - that if He wanted me there, He would make one of those two jobs available to me. Of course once I made that decision, my mind became a battlefield of thoughts, again. 'Why would they give one of those day position to ME?' 'I don't have previous experience in this particular field.' 'But, we need the money, so I should just take whatever they will give me.' I just kept doing my best to hand it all over to God. I know that, ultimately, I can cast my cares upon Him because He cares for me. It wasn't an easy task for me to just let it go, but I kept doing it each time I realized I was obsessing or dwelling on it.

Thankfully, I got a call the very next morning because waiting for Monday night would have been difficult. The call came from the Senior Recruiter in Human Resources. She congratulated me and told me they'd be glad to have me on their team. I was excited, but nerves came right away as she began to discuss wages and hours. The wages were decent, but the shift she  was offering me was not. In that moment I had to decide to either take the job and just make it work for now, or speak up. You know, just like the weddings 'speak now or forever hold your peace!' I decided to speak now. I told the woman that nights would not work for our family and that I really needed days. She said, 'Well, we really liked you and we really want you with us. We have two day positions, and I'd be happy to offer one to you.' I was so appreciative and beyond excited; for about twooooo seconds. She explained to me that working days would mean full-time and that it wasn't a typical M-F, gig. I would also have to work on Sundays, but I would have Wednesdays and Saturdays off, and I could reevaluate my schedule in January. Ultimately, what I felt was excitement that my prayer about days had been answered, but I knew I had to talk with my husband before agreeing to anything. I told her I had to give my husband a call and see if that would work for us. I explained to her that Sunday is a day of worship for us, but that we also go on Wednesdays. She was very understanding.

 I hung up with her and called Chris right away. He was one hundred percent on board with it. My next call was to my daughter. She was very excited and glad that I'd be home for them in the afternoon and evening. My last call was to a friend who is a good voice of reason. She said she thought it would work well for our family and that I had to keep in my mind that it was just a season.  I explained to her my hesitancies regarding missing Sunday service, and she reassured me that my relationship with God goes far beyond that; that I would still have Wednesdays and Chris would take the kids to church. She pointed out some other families that have made this type of schedule work. I was grateful for her wisdom. So, I called back, accepted the position, and the rest is HIStory!

I venture out next week towards a new and unknown journey. And, although its scary and different, I'm relying on the One who goes before me and knows the beginning from the end. He's not scared or surprised, and He's not limited by my fears or doubts, my inexperience or unsteadiness. And, even if I had all the skill, knowledge and peace in the world, I'd rather forfeit all of that for what HE has. It is through Him and by Him that I am strong and able to stand in the sinking sand of this life. I know that Christiano is up there, cheering me on. He's happy that I'm choosing life and and all it's creativity over the box I've been held captive to for so long. God is creative; in His love and in His service. His thoughts and acts toward us are rare, vast, and beautiful. 

'Your thoughts—how rare, how beautiful! God, I’ll never comprehend them! I couldn’t even begin to count them— any more than I could count the sand of the sea. Oh, let me rise in the morning and live always with you!'

Psalm 139:17-22