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.