After months and months of waiting, guessing and speculating, M and I found out the gender of our baby last week!
We found out that we are being blessed with a baby ..........(CLICK HERE)............!!!!!!!!!!! :)
We could NOT be happier!
Friday, April 17, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
A Reminder of God's Provision in Uncertain Times
I posted this morning to my baby blog about the recent turn of events in my, Michael and Vanessa's lives. I hope this will be a testimony of God's power and mercy and provision. I know there are so many people in these uncertain times who are struggling as we have struggled and I hope this will be a reminder that God has everything in the palm of His hands, that He is intimately concerned with what is going on in our lives, and that He WILL provide... that no matter how grim things seem, God is in control and He is bigger than the problems of this world. We need only put our hope in Him.
(Read the post here).
(Read the post here).
Monday, February 23, 2009
The First Time That Ever We Saw Your Face... :)
This morning, M and I got an up-close look at our beautiful baby boy or girl. It is amazing how much he or she has grown in just a few short weeks. At our last ultrasound we could barely make out where the head ended and the body began but today we were able to see his or her face. I just keep reflecting on Psalm 139 and the wonder of knowing that we have a God who loves us and knows us -- and that even now he is "knitting" this precious child together.
PSALM 139
1 O LORD, you have searched me
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you know it completely, O LORD.
5 You hem me in—behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, a]">[a] you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
11 If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to b]">[b] me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand.
When I awake,
I am still with you.
19 If only you would slay the wicked, O God!
Away from me, you bloodthirsty men!
20 They speak of you with evil intent;
your adversaries misuse your name.
21 Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD,
and abhor those who rise up against you?
22 I have nothing but hatred for them;
I count them my enemies.
23 Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
24 See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
An Unexpected Twist of Fate
On New Year’s Day, my husband, stepdaughter and I went to the movies to see Marley & Me. While I fully expected to see a movie documenting the hijinx of a naughty pup wreaking havoc on a young couple, I did not expect to watch a commentary on family, the futility of trying to plan out your life, and the changes that having children brings to a marriage. To be honest, I left the theater feeling a little shaken but very happy with the state of my life as it is.
After the movie, the three of us went out to coffee with our dear friends Dan and Melody, who are expecting their first baby this April. “I am just afraid to ruin what we have because I love our marriage the way it is,” I told Melody as she laughed and nodded her head. I shared with her the reservations the movie gave me about starting a family and, as always, she reassured me that God is in control and that all things work together for good. I agreed and laughed off my apprehensions, noting that it wasn’t anything I would need to worry about for a long time. I am in my third year of law school after all, I added, and M is still working on his engineering degree. And besides, I have endometriosis and there are no guarantees that we would ever be able to have any children of our own anyway. This settled my troubled mind and it was not long before this conversation (and the worries and concerns the movie had sparked in me) faded out of my memory.
You can imagine how ironic this conversation seems now, in retrospect, as I now know that at the time we were having this engaging conversation, I was already four and a half weeks pregnant. Here, I was discussing a movie, based on a true story, that clearly demonstrated that life happens in spite of all our planning and I was ignoring the central message I had clearly identified (and have written on before): “Man plans and God laughs.” I have to imagine that God was just sitting up in Heaven shaking his head and chuckling as He listened to me go on and on with my own ideas about what our life would and should be like. Apparently, He had bigger plans in store for us!
And so, M, V and I have spent the last few weeks adjusting to this unexpected news and preparing ourselves for all the things there really is no preparing for. It has given me a new perspective on so many things. Here, I thought I had it all figured out – but it was no sooner than I had come up with a master plan, that God shows me that His are always better.
I have been procrastinating for too long in blogging. I had been meaning to write an entry for some time now on the futility of fear, as I have finally conquered my fear of driving – something I could do with God’s help alone. In the past four months, I not only got my own driver’s license, but I got my own car (a gift from M for my 27th birthday in November).
Looking on all the drastic changes our lives have taken in the past year (moving from the city to the suburbs, from an apartment to a house, learning to drive and getting a license and a car and finding a Bible study group whose members have small children that are welcome to attend each Friday night), I can’t believe I didn’t see what God was preparing us for. And I guess, I still don’t know what the future has in store and I guess that’s the moral of the story (at least as I see it): We can only live day to day and seek God’s will in what we do and wait expectantly for God to show us where we need to be. That said, I am very happy to be where I am, in spite of the horrific morning (noon and night) sickness that at 7 weeks and a few days along, I have still not grown accustomed to!
For all the downsides of pregnancy I have been experiencing this early on, this morning changed my perspective yet again: when M and I not only saw our baby and his or her tiny beating heart, but we heard it! It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. And while our baby looks like little more than a little blob, I can’t believe how much love I feel for something so very small. And for all the worries I have had concerning how early on my pregnancy is, I remind myself that God is in control.“For you formed my inmost being. You knit me together in my mother's womb. I will give thanks to you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful. My soul knows that very well.” Psalm 139:13-14
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Big Plans
There is an old saying where I’m from that was repeated throughout my early life more times than I can remember: “People DON’T change.” Children who do not see the world in such black and white terms don’t easily believe things like that. Youthful optimism does not allow for such cold “truths” to be too readily adopted. I didn’t believe it – not even when the circumstances surrounding me seemed to only confirm that “truth” for me time and time again. If there is any truth to that old motto it is this: While it is often very difficult for people to change themselves, GOD changes people. This is something that the pastor at my church often refers to as “pruning” – another way of saying that God roots out areas of our lives that need to give way so that we can grow into who we are meant to be. And I truly believe that, but I always like to think of it in more artistic terms…. terms just as clearly defined in the Bible… Potter and Clay…
I can still remember “throwing” pottery in the drafty art studio at my high school in Brooklyn. I remember how much strength was needed once the clay was on the wheel to force it into the desired shape. Some days, I lacked the endurance and ended up with a mess on my hands, literally. I gave up many times dissatisfied and frustrated. Mostly I ended up with a shape far less than perfect. Once a viable shape was formed, it was time to let it dry or cook it in the kiln.
As any potter knows, the trick is that if you want to engrave anything into it or if you want to reshape what you have formed in any way, you have to begin at just the right time or else it dries up hard like leather and leaves the potter with a much tougher (if not impossible) task. Time and time again, I let my pottery dry out so much that reshaping or engraving it was nearly impossible. Time and time again I ended up spending hours scraping the sides of some misshapen pot with a shaving tool, desperately trying to grind down the imperfections or cut away mistakes, listening to the ear piercing screeching sound and believing all the while that the form could not be changed. (And sadly sometimes it was the case.)
I think this is how God sometimes feels about us. Only in the case of human beings, it is we who choose to harden. And in the case of God, He doesn’t give up on us. I know this because in every way I was that misshapen pot. Stubborn in my ways, clinging to that old adage and believing what I’d been conditioned to believe about myself and the world, I resigned myself to accepting certain things I never should have. I fell shorter than short (no obvious pun intended). But fortunately for me, the Potter was not as willing to give up on me as I was in that basement art studio. God had a plan for my life and He was willing to scrape away at those rough and flawed layers no matter how long it took and no matter how many ways I had to break before I’d give way.
The process was difficult and I reached some of the lowest places of my life, but God was faithful to repair all my brokenness. And I don’t regret a moment of the repair process -- though I shudder at the thought of ever going through it again (I’m certain I will again to at least some small degree). I remain a work in process. I’m far from beyond “pruning.”
I was reminded of God’s faithfulness in a big way this past week. On August 11, M and I celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary and gave thanks for the amazing work that God did in both our lives over the course of 3 short years.
This month, M and I are also approaching the 2 year anniversary of our baptism together into the body of believers in Christ. I still remember standing there in that water, soaking in all that God had done at that point in my life to bring me out of the pit I dug myself into. Never could I have imagined all that God had in store for me and my husband over the years to come. Big plans.
Just recently, I have begun to overcome the biggest fear I’ve ever harbored. (You may remember, I faced it momentarily once before, years ago.) And everyday for the last week and a half, I have done that which I once swore I would NEVER be able to do. At the ripe old age of 26, I have finally learned to drive. And in just 10 days, I will resign my label as a “city girl” when M and I move into our first home in the suburbs. (A leap of Faith if I ever made one!)
God truly has a sense of humor. He has changed me and my life in so many ways. In spite of my shortcomings, in spite of all the ways I’ve failed to put my trust in Him, He has never let me down. All things have truly worked together for good for me and my little family. And the next time I face trials, which I’m sure I will, I hope I remember my own words… God IS Faithful and He loves us too much to leave us how we are.
His plans are much bigger….
I can still remember “throwing” pottery in the drafty art studio at my high school in Brooklyn. I remember how much strength was needed once the clay was on the wheel to force it into the desired shape. Some days, I lacked the endurance and ended up with a mess on my hands, literally. I gave up many times dissatisfied and frustrated. Mostly I ended up with a shape far less than perfect. Once a viable shape was formed, it was time to let it dry or cook it in the kiln.
As any potter knows, the trick is that if you want to engrave anything into it or if you want to reshape what you have formed in any way, you have to begin at just the right time or else it dries up hard like leather and leaves the potter with a much tougher (if not impossible) task. Time and time again, I let my pottery dry out so much that reshaping or engraving it was nearly impossible. Time and time again I ended up spending hours scraping the sides of some misshapen pot with a shaving tool, desperately trying to grind down the imperfections or cut away mistakes, listening to the ear piercing screeching sound and believing all the while that the form could not be changed. (And sadly sometimes it was the case.)I think this is how God sometimes feels about us. Only in the case of human beings, it is we who choose to harden. And in the case of God, He doesn’t give up on us. I know this because in every way I was that misshapen pot. Stubborn in my ways, clinging to that old adage and believing what I’d been conditioned to believe about myself and the world, I resigned myself to accepting certain things I never should have. I fell shorter than short (no obvious pun intended). But fortunately for me, the Potter was not as willing to give up on me as I was in that basement art studio. God had a plan for my life and He was willing to scrape away at those rough and flawed layers no matter how long it took and no matter how many ways I had to break before I’d give way.
The process was difficult and I reached some of the lowest places of my life, but God was faithful to repair all my brokenness. And I don’t regret a moment of the repair process -- though I shudder at the thought of ever going through it again (I’m certain I will again to at least some small degree). I remain a work in process. I’m far from beyond “pruning.”
I was reminded of God’s faithfulness in a big way this past week. On August 11, M and I celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary and gave thanks for the amazing work that God did in both our lives over the course of 3 short years.
This month, M and I are also approaching the 2 year anniversary of our baptism together into the body of believers in Christ. I still remember standing there in that water, soaking in all that God had done at that point in my life to bring me out of the pit I dug myself into. Never could I have imagined all that God had in store for me and my husband over the years to come. Big plans.
Just recently, I have begun to overcome the biggest fear I’ve ever harbored. (You may remember, I faced it momentarily once before, years ago.) And everyday for the last week and a half, I have done that which I once swore I would NEVER be able to do. At the ripe old age of 26, I have finally learned to drive. And in just 10 days, I will resign my label as a “city girl” when M and I move into our first home in the suburbs. (A leap of Faith if I ever made one!)
God truly has a sense of humor. He has changed me and my life in so many ways. In spite of my shortcomings, in spite of all the ways I’ve failed to put my trust in Him, He has never let me down. All things have truly worked together for good for me and my little family. And the next time I face trials, which I’m sure I will, I hope I remember my own words… God IS Faithful and He loves us too much to leave us how we are.His plans are much bigger….
Sunday, July 06, 2008
A Pint-Sized Lesson About God
I live in a city where people dress their dogs in better designers and pay nearly as much rent for them as they do for themselves. But with limited square feet and one year to go in law school, a puppy has been out of the question for the time being. Enter Beanie -- our cute-as-a-button black teddy bear hamster. Now… I know hamsters are typically children’s pets, but given that I have an 8 year-old step-daughter, I had a perfect excuse to bring this little muffin home. And I must say, she is as spoiled (if not more) than even the most primped and pampered pooch in my building. And… believe it or not… she is teaching me quite a bit about God… Let me explain…
It was not long before M and I realized that as cute as Beanie’s little pink house was, she was growing far too big for it. When she almost got caught in her tunnel (the first day we got her) we realized it would not be before long that we’d have to go bigger. So we went to Petco where M and I eyed the biggest hamster cage in the store appropriately called the “Rat Palace.” The salesman of whom I inquired, with no reservations asked me, “Isn’t that a little extravagant for a hamster?” I stood there blinking at him wondering how on earth he got his job. Nevertheless, one day after work M brought home a “house” (the palace) for Beanie that probably gives her a bigger ration of square feet for her size than we have. (Definitely does). 
Beanie’s palace has three floors (not including the ground floor) and is equipped with hamster furniture of all sorts. (Yes, someone beat me to that idea). Beanie has a TV she can climb into, a couch she can kick back on, a lamp she can eat out of, a nest, and even a rocking chair, not to mention blocks with letters spelling out her name to chew on, two wheels and a log she can hide in, run through or eat, depending on her mood.
Too extravagant for my Beanie? Never. So where does God come into all of this?
Well… When M and I set up Beanie’s palace I wondered if it would feel like Christmas morning when she opened her eyes and saw all this new space and fun toys. If a hamster could receive such a thing, this would probably be a huge blessing to her, right? If so, she took quite some time to realize it. First off, Beanie gnawed incessantly at the bars of her cage. Even if it was a "palace" it was still a prison to her, I guessed. Still it was such a giant step up from her pink house that we couldn't understand why she wasn't happier. Secondly, each floor has it’s own ladder for her to climb up and down to the different levels. But Beanie wanted absolutely no part of the ladders. We might as well have installed a diving board on each floor! Night after night, rather than take the stairs, Beanie preferred to nose-dive to the bottom of her cage with one large crash after another. And, glutton for punishment that she is, she climbed back up to try again each time, falling only harder still. This reminded me of why my stepdaughter initially wanted to name her Crash and why my husband initially preferred Pinball (you should see her in her ball thumping everywhere she goes...)
Day after day M and I wondered if she would get seriously hurt as we did all we could to teach Beanie to use the stairs. And I wondered… is this how God feels when he pours out blessings on his children only to see us do everything we can to avoid doing what He intends us to do with them? No matter how many times we put Beanie on the right path (her ladder) she insisted on doing things her own way rather than stay the course. And time after time, it only had negative consequences. I wondered how God’s frustration compared to the frustration we were feeling.
Fortunately, there is a happy ending to this story. Eventually Beanie realized that her ways were not as wise as what we had intended for her and she began to realize that the stairs of her ladder were a much safer and convenient alternative. Like humans, fallen as we are (pun definitely intended), it took learning the hard way for Beanie to wise up. Now, she could not be happier and we could not be more pleased.
And it made me wonder… what blessings has God poured out on me that I’m oblivious too? How often have I been ungrateful when God has done something huge in my life? Can you relate? I’m sure if we look hard enough, we’ll find what we’ve been looking for in one respect or another has been right before our eyes for some time… a better, safer way.
"'For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,' says the Lord. 'For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts'" (Isaiah 55:8-9).
It was not long before M and I realized that as cute as Beanie’s little pink house was, she was growing far too big for it. When she almost got caught in her tunnel (the first day we got her) we realized it would not be before long that we’d have to go bigger. So we went to Petco where M and I eyed the biggest hamster cage in the store appropriately called the “Rat Palace.” The salesman of whom I inquired, with no reservations asked me, “Isn’t that a little extravagant for a hamster?” I stood there blinking at him wondering how on earth he got his job. Nevertheless, one day after work M brought home a “house” (the palace) for Beanie that probably gives her a bigger ration of square feet for her size than we have. (Definitely does). 
Beanie’s palace has three floors (not including the ground floor) and is equipped with hamster furniture of all sorts. (Yes, someone beat me to that idea). Beanie has a TV she can climb into, a couch she can kick back on, a lamp she can eat out of, a nest, and even a rocking chair, not to mention blocks with letters spelling out her name to chew on, two wheels and a log she can hide in, run through or eat, depending on her mood.
Too extravagant for my Beanie? Never. So where does God come into all of this?Well… When M and I set up Beanie’s palace I wondered if it would feel like Christmas morning when she opened her eyes and saw all this new space and fun toys. If a hamster could receive such a thing, this would probably be a huge blessing to her, right? If so, she took quite some time to realize it. First off, Beanie gnawed incessantly at the bars of her cage. Even if it was a "palace" it was still a prison to her, I guessed. Still it was such a giant step up from her pink house that we couldn't understand why she wasn't happier. Secondly, each floor has it’s own ladder for her to climb up and down to the different levels. But Beanie wanted absolutely no part of the ladders. We might as well have installed a diving board on each floor! Night after night, rather than take the stairs, Beanie preferred to nose-dive to the bottom of her cage with one large crash after another. And, glutton for punishment that she is, she climbed back up to try again each time, falling only harder still. This reminded me of why my stepdaughter initially wanted to name her Crash and why my husband initially preferred Pinball (you should see her in her ball thumping everywhere she goes...)
Day after day M and I wondered if she would get seriously hurt as we did all we could to teach Beanie to use the stairs. And I wondered… is this how God feels when he pours out blessings on his children only to see us do everything we can to avoid doing what He intends us to do with them? No matter how many times we put Beanie on the right path (her ladder) she insisted on doing things her own way rather than stay the course. And time after time, it only had negative consequences. I wondered how God’s frustration compared to the frustration we were feeling.
Fortunately, there is a happy ending to this story. Eventually Beanie realized that her ways were not as wise as what we had intended for her and she began to realize that the stairs of her ladder were a much safer and convenient alternative. Like humans, fallen as we are (pun definitely intended), it took learning the hard way for Beanie to wise up. Now, she could not be happier and we could not be more pleased.
And it made me wonder… what blessings has God poured out on me that I’m oblivious too? How often have I been ungrateful when God has done something huge in my life? Can you relate? I’m sure if we look hard enough, we’ll find what we’ve been looking for in one respect or another has been right before our eyes for some time… a better, safer way.
"'For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,' says the Lord. 'For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts'" (Isaiah 55:8-9).
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Our Irrational Anger
“I just don’t want to talk.”
How many times have we said that to a friend or family member beseeching us to confide in them, only to have them stare back startled, resigned, or disappointed? Whether it’s said under our breath, with passivity, or with a booming voice, the statement gets across the message that whatever lies at the root of any present problem is NOT (and may not ever be) up for discussion. And we usually don’t realize how angry or upset or troubled we really are until we’ve put it as plain as that and heard our own voices.
To often this has been my attitude towards God.
I never understand why when things in my life start to go south my first inclination is to blame God for it. Though I was once able to lay out my anger before God– sometimes maybe a little too bluntly– all too often, in times of anger, my first inclination is to slam the door on God and lock it behind me, saving for another day whether I will ever permit Him entry again.
The logic goes something like this:
Something beyond my control is paining me. God is all-knowing. Therefore, He is aware of it. Because He is all-knowing, He is also aware that He Alone has the Power to fix it. Now, He could take whatever pain persists away or pour whatever restoration I beg for down on me if He really wanted to and cared. Therefore, when my life is a mess, and God, who is All Powerful to restore it chooses not to, it means He either doesn’t care or that His plan for my life is one of destruction. Therefore all that is wrong in my life is His fault because He has allowed it.
Isn’t it amazing how twisted our logic can become when we are in pain and approach God with pride and entitlement rather than desiring to understand and submit to His plan in our lives? We can turn the God who wants to be intimately involved in every moment of our lives into a passive, indifferent spectator.
In retrospect, I’ve discovered that when we embrace this flawed logic and allow our pride to interfere with our relationship with God, we miss out on the blessings and lessons He has in store for us. We deprive ourselves of the peace that He intends. When we blame God and look only for the specific answer we’ve enunciated rather than waiting patiently before Him, we miss seeing Him at work in other areas of our lives. We damage our relationship with Him. We reason to ourselves that it’s God who has moved and exalt ourselves with the false belief that we are blameless in the matter and that God has somehow jilted US. We reason that it’s He who is guilty of bolting the door we’ve slammed in His face. And we forget that all too often, the cause of our present suffering is the result of our own sin or our faithless impatience.
Meanwhile, God, like that beseeching friend or relative that we put off so rashly, is asking us to bring our pain and disappointment to Him and pour it out at His feet. He is asking us to trust in His perfect plan for our lives. He is asking us to stand in our faith through the trying times and He is promising us that He will never leave us and that it WILL all work together for good if we just trust Him.
I have too often allowed a misplaced resentment towards God to harden my heart. And in the end, I’ve only felt more pain at the disrespect I’ve showed the God who purchased me with His Son. This, of course, doesn’t hit me until I let down my defenses and realize how self-righteous and unjustified my anger has been and how ridiculous I sound. This sometimes takes a long time. Like anyone else, I can be a very stubborn prideful person. And we all know what pride comes before…
As I get older and grow in my faith, I begin to realize that though God allows suffering He has a purpose for it that we cannot always see. His plan is always better than ours. How many times have I thanked God for not granting my specific request? How blessed are we that God doesn’t just give us what we think we want to our own detriment?
I forget that sometimes. It’s good to be reminded.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jer 29:11
Will we trust in that promise? Or will we continue to stomp our feet like children in the candy store who have been told “no, you’ve had enough?” It’s a choice we make everyday: To let God in and draw from Him the comfort only He can provide. Or to shut Him out and allow our hearts to harden. We do so at our peril.
How many times have we said that to a friend or family member beseeching us to confide in them, only to have them stare back startled, resigned, or disappointed? Whether it’s said under our breath, with passivity, or with a booming voice, the statement gets across the message that whatever lies at the root of any present problem is NOT (and may not ever be) up for discussion. And we usually don’t realize how angry or upset or troubled we really are until we’ve put it as plain as that and heard our own voices.
To often this has been my attitude towards God.
I never understand why when things in my life start to go south my first inclination is to blame God for it. Though I was once able to lay out my anger before God– sometimes maybe a little too bluntly– all too often, in times of anger, my first inclination is to slam the door on God and lock it behind me, saving for another day whether I will ever permit Him entry again.
The logic goes something like this:
Something beyond my control is paining me. God is all-knowing. Therefore, He is aware of it. Because He is all-knowing, He is also aware that He Alone has the Power to fix it. Now, He could take whatever pain persists away or pour whatever restoration I beg for down on me if He really wanted to and cared. Therefore, when my life is a mess, and God, who is All Powerful to restore it chooses not to, it means He either doesn’t care or that His plan for my life is one of destruction. Therefore all that is wrong in my life is His fault because He has allowed it.
Isn’t it amazing how twisted our logic can become when we are in pain and approach God with pride and entitlement rather than desiring to understand and submit to His plan in our lives? We can turn the God who wants to be intimately involved in every moment of our lives into a passive, indifferent spectator.
In retrospect, I’ve discovered that when we embrace this flawed logic and allow our pride to interfere with our relationship with God, we miss out on the blessings and lessons He has in store for us. We deprive ourselves of the peace that He intends. When we blame God and look only for the specific answer we’ve enunciated rather than waiting patiently before Him, we miss seeing Him at work in other areas of our lives. We damage our relationship with Him. We reason to ourselves that it’s God who has moved and exalt ourselves with the false belief that we are blameless in the matter and that God has somehow jilted US. We reason that it’s He who is guilty of bolting the door we’ve slammed in His face. And we forget that all too often, the cause of our present suffering is the result of our own sin or our faithless impatience.
Meanwhile, God, like that beseeching friend or relative that we put off so rashly, is asking us to bring our pain and disappointment to Him and pour it out at His feet. He is asking us to trust in His perfect plan for our lives. He is asking us to stand in our faith through the trying times and He is promising us that He will never leave us and that it WILL all work together for good if we just trust Him.
I have too often allowed a misplaced resentment towards God to harden my heart. And in the end, I’ve only felt more pain at the disrespect I’ve showed the God who purchased me with His Son. This, of course, doesn’t hit me until I let down my defenses and realize how self-righteous and unjustified my anger has been and how ridiculous I sound. This sometimes takes a long time. Like anyone else, I can be a very stubborn prideful person. And we all know what pride comes before…
As I get older and grow in my faith, I begin to realize that though God allows suffering He has a purpose for it that we cannot always see. His plan is always better than ours. How many times have I thanked God for not granting my specific request? How blessed are we that God doesn’t just give us what we think we want to our own detriment?
I forget that sometimes. It’s good to be reminded.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jer 29:11
Will we trust in that promise? Or will we continue to stomp our feet like children in the candy store who have been told “no, you’ve had enough?” It’s a choice we make everyday: To let God in and draw from Him the comfort only He can provide. Or to shut Him out and allow our hearts to harden. We do so at our peril.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
The Pain of Unanswered Prayer (Happy First Birthday in Heaven)
A year ago today, I was sitting in my first year Torts class text messaging under my desk with my sister Christine who gave me minute by minute updates as my sister Michelle was taken in for an Emergency C-section hours away in a NY hospital. I sat with my hands fumbling under my books unbeknownst to my teacher, anticipating the break so that I could run out of the room and give my sister a call. It was the longest two minutes of my life. (As my sister Michelle often says, it took two minutes for Abigail to be born and 10 minutes for her to pass away.) All I remember as I ran out into the hall was a text coming in from my sister Christine before I got out of the school that said in caps “SHE IS BORN AND BEAUTIFUL” and this picture which confirmed that message.
We were all so overjoyed. Never could we have anticipated that a year later we’d reflect on that day with such pain. Today is Abigail’s First Birthday, in Heaven.
Last night, my women’s small group discussed the pain of unanswered prayer and we looked at verses 21-26 from Lamentations 3. It begins:
“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”
I thank God that we were not “destroyed” by the pain that my family was subjected to just 10 months ago, but 10 months later, the pain is still so raw and there is still the lingering question of WHY. Last night, I confronted my anger towards God and spoke a lot of things that I’ve been bottling up for so long. I know that I will never understand why God allowed Abby to suffer or why THIS was His will but I trust Him anyway and there is peace in that. I know that His thoughts are higher than ours and that I do not know what bigger plan God has for any of our lives. Still, I admit that it was so hard to trust God again immediately following Abby’s death. But then I think back to the day that Abby passed away and the overwhelming sense of peace I felt after she passed. I KNEW that could not have come from myself. Feeling so greatly despaired, peace was not a feeling I could have manufactured. God’s compassion did not fail. And I pray with all my heart that they will not fail my sister or the rest of my family who suffer with her today.
Lon Solomon, the pastor at my church gave a sermon last month that really helped me to put this in perspective (text, mp3). He compared our perspective on the direction of our lives to us trying to watch a parade and not being able to see past what is directly in front of us. We cannot see what is at the end, but God can. I don’t know how all the pieces go together or what the purpose is, but God does and I know that His plan is not to harm me or my family and so I put my trust in Him and I just pray for comfort and understanding, though I resign myself to the fact that I may never fully attain the latter.
Today, I try to find comfort in knowing that my beautiful niece Abby, my sister in Heaven, is beyond pain and is happier than I could ever imagine, safe in the arms of the Lord… Though the pain of not being able to hold her or see her little smile or celebrate with her, as we always imagined we would, is more than I can bear at this time. There is always tomorrow…
“But there's one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope: God's loyal love couldn't have run out, his merciful love couldn't have dried up. They're created new every morning.” Lamentations 3:21-23 (the Message)
We were all so overjoyed. Never could we have anticipated that a year later we’d reflect on that day with such pain. Today is Abigail’s First Birthday, in Heaven.
Last night, my women’s small group discussed the pain of unanswered prayer and we looked at verses 21-26 from Lamentations 3. It begins:
“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”
I thank God that we were not “destroyed” by the pain that my family was subjected to just 10 months ago, but 10 months later, the pain is still so raw and there is still the lingering question of WHY. Last night, I confronted my anger towards God and spoke a lot of things that I’ve been bottling up for so long. I know that I will never understand why God allowed Abby to suffer or why THIS was His will but I trust Him anyway and there is peace in that. I know that His thoughts are higher than ours and that I do not know what bigger plan God has for any of our lives. Still, I admit that it was so hard to trust God again immediately following Abby’s death. But then I think back to the day that Abby passed away and the overwhelming sense of peace I felt after she passed. I KNEW that could not have come from myself. Feeling so greatly despaired, peace was not a feeling I could have manufactured. God’s compassion did not fail. And I pray with all my heart that they will not fail my sister or the rest of my family who suffer with her today.
Lon Solomon, the pastor at my church gave a sermon last month that really helped me to put this in perspective (text, mp3). He compared our perspective on the direction of our lives to us trying to watch a parade and not being able to see past what is directly in front of us. We cannot see what is at the end, but God can. I don’t know how all the pieces go together or what the purpose is, but God does and I know that His plan is not to harm me or my family and so I put my trust in Him and I just pray for comfort and understanding, though I resign myself to the fact that I may never fully attain the latter.
Today, I try to find comfort in knowing that my beautiful niece Abby, my sister in Heaven, is beyond pain and is happier than I could ever imagine, safe in the arms of the Lord… Though the pain of not being able to hold her or see her little smile or celebrate with her, as we always imagined we would, is more than I can bear at this time. There is always tomorrow…
“But there's one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope: God's loyal love couldn't have run out, his merciful love couldn't have dried up. They're created new every morning.” Lamentations 3:21-23 (the Message)
Monday, October 22, 2007
Wife then BRIDE
I always have to do everything in my life backwards or it wouldn’t be my life. It would follow that I’d get married before I’d have a wedding. I guess I like being unconventional.
In the summer of 2006, M and I asked his daughter’s permission (she was 6 at the time) to get married on our own, between just us and God. We promised her that we would have a church wedding when we got back from our trip to Turks and Caicos once I got a handle on law school and that she would definitely be a part of it. Never could we have imagined everything that would happen with my sister or her dear baby Abigail who passed away after just two short months of being with us. Wedding planning obviously got pushed to the wayside but after some discussions with my family and needed encouragement from my sister, we finally pulled it together and decided to have the wedding we’d planned on. God knew my family needed a HAPPY reason to come together…
So, on August 11, 2007, one year to the day M and I became man and wife, we had our little church wedding so that our loved ones could come together and celebrate the joining of our two families, here in Arlington, VA.
It was beautiful.
I stood at the altar as I imagined I'd do since I was a little girl and felt more peace than I'd ever felt in all my life.
And my very tall groom stood staring back at me. We both stood so still. I barely breathed. I watched him mouth the words "wow." I laughed. It helped distract from the fact that both my sisters were crying, which was making it harder for me to keep my composure. We all had a good laugh when M wrinkled his brow when asked his intentions before saying "I do." After that the day went by in a flash.
Our families prayed together.
M and I fed each other communion for the first time.
The pastor prayed over M, V and I.
My step daughter got to participate in everything and now has a tangible memory of us all becoming a family.
We really had a chance to celebrate.
And there was much dancing!
V even got her first father daughter dance!
And it was great to see my sisters...
and my family....
SMILING again...
.. especially my sister Michelle, who has had such a rough year....
The day was more than I could have hoped for.
And now I have pictures I can show my grandchildren (God-willing) someday ☺
If we’d never had our church wedding I could have survived but I’m so glad we did. I got to marry the man of my dreams AGAIN. My family finally got to see where I've been living for the last 4 years and meet our friends. Our families got to know each other better. And we all have beautiful memories to take away from it.
I feel very blessed.
In the summer of 2006, M and I asked his daughter’s permission (she was 6 at the time) to get married on our own, between just us and God. We promised her that we would have a church wedding when we got back from our trip to Turks and Caicos once I got a handle on law school and that she would definitely be a part of it. Never could we have imagined everything that would happen with my sister or her dear baby Abigail who passed away after just two short months of being with us. Wedding planning obviously got pushed to the wayside but after some discussions with my family and needed encouragement from my sister, we finally pulled it together and decided to have the wedding we’d planned on. God knew my family needed a HAPPY reason to come together…
So, on August 11, 2007, one year to the day M and I became man and wife, we had our little church wedding so that our loved ones could come together and celebrate the joining of our two families, here in Arlington, VA.
It was beautiful.
I stood at the altar as I imagined I'd do since I was a little girl and felt more peace than I'd ever felt in all my life.
And my very tall groom stood staring back at me. We both stood so still. I barely breathed. I watched him mouth the words "wow." I laughed. It helped distract from the fact that both my sisters were crying, which was making it harder for me to keep my composure. We all had a good laugh when M wrinkled his brow when asked his intentions before saying "I do." After that the day went by in a flash.
Our families prayed together.
M and I fed each other communion for the first time.
The pastor prayed over M, V and I.
My step daughter got to participate in everything and now has a tangible memory of us all becoming a family.
We really had a chance to celebrate.
And there was much dancing!
V even got her first father daughter dance!
And it was great to see my sisters...
and my family....
SMILING again...
.. especially my sister Michelle, who has had such a rough year....
The day was more than I could have hoped for.
And now I have pictures I can show my grandchildren (God-willing) someday ☺
If we’d never had our church wedding I could have survived but I’m so glad we did. I got to marry the man of my dreams AGAIN. My family finally got to see where I've been living for the last 4 years and meet our friends. Our families got to know each other better. And we all have beautiful memories to take away from it.
I feel very blessed.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Remembering Abby, Six Months Later...
Six months ago today, my sister’s life and the lives of every member of my family were changed forever. Six months ago today, our precious Abigail Rose, my baby niece, passed away. When I looked at the calendar today, it hit so hard. Has it really been that long? Or that recent? Sometimes, I’m not sure which it is.
I’m haunted by the memories of those final days, I can recall with such clarity the drive to the hospital the day we knew would be her last. The music playing in the car, “10,000 miles” a song that still haunts me and reduces me to a puddle with the first few chords. [listen/watch] The last time I held her in my arms and kissed her little face. The day we said goodbye. Walking away from the place we knew her tiny body would be laid to rest. And the trip home. I took all of it with me. None of it was left beind, except the little token I left beside her in her coffin, a tiny silver heart inscribed with the words “we will miss you forever.” I knew it wouldn’t be forever before I’d see her again, but they were the best words I could muster at the time and best described the sorrow that was so overwhelming. -- and still is.
Fortunately, as a Christian, I know that Abigail is not in Staten Island, where my sister is headed in a few minutes to visit and lay flowers on her grave. I know that she is in heaven, that she is in the arms of our Lord, that she is free from all pain and suffering. I just wish sometimes we had had more time with her. I just wish I could kiss her little face again, look upon her navy blue eyes, and see her little "Elvis" sneer that I loved so much.
I know that everything happens for a reason but sometimes it is so hard to come to grips with. Fortunately, I know that even when I don’t have the words, I have God’s promises to stand on. I just pray that my sister would have this assurance and that she would realize that she never leaves her baby behind when her visit to the cemetery ends. Please keep that in prayer…
When we gather at our church and I see so many people singing songs of praise with such joy, I think about Abigail, my sister in heaven, and I think of how we will worship together someday – and that gives me comfort. In the meantime, I hold on to her memory, I cherish the short time I had with her, and take comfort in knowing she is more alive than I can ever conceive of.
Still, I miss her...
I’m haunted by the memories of those final days, I can recall with such clarity the drive to the hospital the day we knew would be her last. The music playing in the car, “10,000 miles” a song that still haunts me and reduces me to a puddle with the first few chords. [listen/watch] The last time I held her in my arms and kissed her little face. The day we said goodbye. Walking away from the place we knew her tiny body would be laid to rest. And the trip home. I took all of it with me. None of it was left beind, except the little token I left beside her in her coffin, a tiny silver heart inscribed with the words “we will miss you forever.” I knew it wouldn’t be forever before I’d see her again, but they were the best words I could muster at the time and best described the sorrow that was so overwhelming. -- and still is.
Fortunately, as a Christian, I know that Abigail is not in Staten Island, where my sister is headed in a few minutes to visit and lay flowers on her grave. I know that she is in heaven, that she is in the arms of our Lord, that she is free from all pain and suffering. I just wish sometimes we had had more time with her. I just wish I could kiss her little face again, look upon her navy blue eyes, and see her little "Elvis" sneer that I loved so much.
I know that everything happens for a reason but sometimes it is so hard to come to grips with. Fortunately, I know that even when I don’t have the words, I have God’s promises to stand on. I just pray that my sister would have this assurance and that she would realize that she never leaves her baby behind when her visit to the cemetery ends. Please keep that in prayer…
When we gather at our church and I see so many people singing songs of praise with such joy, I think about Abigail, my sister in heaven, and I think of how we will worship together someday – and that gives me comfort. In the meantime, I hold on to her memory, I cherish the short time I had with her, and take comfort in knowing she is more alive than I can ever conceive of.
Still, I miss her...
Thursday, March 29, 2007
A Much Needed Reminder
“For I know the plans I have for you…”
It’s easy to wonder sometimes whether we are following the correct path in life, and this gives rise to doubts as to whether or not we have truly been “put” where we belong or if we have chosen it for ourselves. For those who choose to live their lives seeking God’s will in all things, it’s difficult sometimes to escape these doubts as to whether God chose our course and brought us where we are or if we chose it and brought Him there instead. These are doubts I’ve entertained for the last few months since beginning my second semester as a first year law student… They have truly tried my faith.
I had hoped to draft this earlier in case the novelty faded. I wanted to write this to preserve a reminder for myself in the event I become discouraged about the course I’ve chosen in life, which I’m sure I will do from time to time…
I must confess, law school has been harder than I imagined it would be. (This leads me to wonder if I perhaps watched Legally Blonde one too many times.) Given everything that took place last semester concerning the month long illness and eventual passing of my precious niece Abigail, I did not do as well as I’d hoped to do on final exams, which took place at the same time as this tragedy in my family. I let the fact that I did not score as well as I thought I could have get to my head. I started to wonder if maybe I wasn’t cut out for this after all. I started to wonder if I had chosen this course for myself and done so to my own disadvantage. I had once been sure that this was where I belonged, but I began basing the accuracy of my decision on the world’s standards and not God’s. Perhaps a truer statement is that I’d been pretty sure that this was God’s will, but I wasn’t feeling very sure that it was mine anymore. That was until last Saturday, when I had a powerful reminder.
Public speaking has always been one of my biggest fears, but in facing that fear in the past (through mock trial in college and L-D debate in high school) I felt strong and convicted; I forgot myself. I was worried that I had changed too much since then and that this would no longer come naturally to me in my mid-twenties when I learned that I had to compete in a first year Oral Arguments Competition last weekend. I was fortunate to have been proven wrong. Not only did I feel as strong and convicted as I did in younger days, but I felt stronger than I ever had. In the midst of arguing I nearly forgot the fictional state of my client. Every minute was a total rush that left me wanting more. The judge’s comments and encouragement at the conclusion of the round only fed this fire. I left the competition not knowing whether I would advance but feeling reassured. I prayed the whole way there making requests of God and the whole way home thanking Him just feeling something inside me reminding me that I was born for this. This is what I want to do. It’s what I was made to do. This was the reason I felt convicted to go to law school: so that someday I can stand and do this in an actual courtroom. I felt convicted that this was what God wanted for my life and I felt so grateful that He sustained me through it.
When I learned on Monday that I advanced to next round, which takes place this Saturday, I was thrilled beyond belief. It was icing on the cake. I already had my reminder and whether or not I go further, I’m positive I will not be one bit discouraged. The point, I guess is that sometimes we doubt and when we do, God usually gives us that gentle nudge (or great big push in some instances) to remind us what it is we should be doing.
How awesome is our God that He cares even about the trivial things, which we inflate to such great proportions in our tiny lives?
It’s easy to wonder sometimes whether we are following the correct path in life, and this gives rise to doubts as to whether or not we have truly been “put” where we belong or if we have chosen it for ourselves. For those who choose to live their lives seeking God’s will in all things, it’s difficult sometimes to escape these doubts as to whether God chose our course and brought us where we are or if we chose it and brought Him there instead. These are doubts I’ve entertained for the last few months since beginning my second semester as a first year law student… They have truly tried my faith.
I had hoped to draft this earlier in case the novelty faded. I wanted to write this to preserve a reminder for myself in the event I become discouraged about the course I’ve chosen in life, which I’m sure I will do from time to time…
I must confess, law school has been harder than I imagined it would be. (This leads me to wonder if I perhaps watched Legally Blonde one too many times.) Given everything that took place last semester concerning the month long illness and eventual passing of my precious niece Abigail, I did not do as well as I’d hoped to do on final exams, which took place at the same time as this tragedy in my family. I let the fact that I did not score as well as I thought I could have get to my head. I started to wonder if maybe I wasn’t cut out for this after all. I started to wonder if I had chosen this course for myself and done so to my own disadvantage. I had once been sure that this was where I belonged, but I began basing the accuracy of my decision on the world’s standards and not God’s. Perhaps a truer statement is that I’d been pretty sure that this was God’s will, but I wasn’t feeling very sure that it was mine anymore. That was until last Saturday, when I had a powerful reminder.
Public speaking has always been one of my biggest fears, but in facing that fear in the past (through mock trial in college and L-D debate in high school) I felt strong and convicted; I forgot myself. I was worried that I had changed too much since then and that this would no longer come naturally to me in my mid-twenties when I learned that I had to compete in a first year Oral Arguments Competition last weekend. I was fortunate to have been proven wrong. Not only did I feel as strong and convicted as I did in younger days, but I felt stronger than I ever had. In the midst of arguing I nearly forgot the fictional state of my client. Every minute was a total rush that left me wanting more. The judge’s comments and encouragement at the conclusion of the round only fed this fire. I left the competition not knowing whether I would advance but feeling reassured. I prayed the whole way there making requests of God and the whole way home thanking Him just feeling something inside me reminding me that I was born for this. This is what I want to do. It’s what I was made to do. This was the reason I felt convicted to go to law school: so that someday I can stand and do this in an actual courtroom. I felt convicted that this was what God wanted for my life and I felt so grateful that He sustained me through it.
When I learned on Monday that I advanced to next round, which takes place this Saturday, I was thrilled beyond belief. It was icing on the cake. I already had my reminder and whether or not I go further, I’m positive I will not be one bit discouraged. The point, I guess is that sometimes we doubt and when we do, God usually gives us that gentle nudge (or great big push in some instances) to remind us what it is we should be doing.
How awesome is our God that He cares even about the trivial things, which we inflate to such great proportions in our tiny lives?
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Keeping God in the Details
It has been some time since I posted. It is not because I have been completely destroyed by the death of my precious niece. I have not stayed away because I’ve lost an ounce of hope or faith. It has just taken me some time for me to be able to write again. (Fortunately, I was encouraged and admonished about this recently by a dear friend I had not seen in many seasons.) Abby’s death still weighs heavy on my heart but I am secure in knowing that God has a purpose, even if I don’t know or understand what it is right now and even if the details leading up to her death still haunt me.
In the months that have followed, I have been consumed with trying to keep up with the workload for my second semester as a 1L, which has been quite challenging. I have also been trying to recover from another car accident I was in just a few days after Abigail’s funeral in NY that was certainly a setback to my progress. To quote my physical therapist, I am "back at zero." But in these months I have discovered that it is more than just mind over matter, it is keeping God in the details.
About two years ago, after having one spinal procedure and one major surgery that left me hospitalized for a month and not walking unassisted for some time afterwards, I was told that I needed a double spinal fusion. I’ll spare you the gruesome details and just note that it involves removing discs, bone grafting and inserting metal rods and screws into the spine and pelvis. (I guess that was still pretty gruesome. Sorry.) This was before this last accident and after the second of three that have taken such a toll on my body. For years I wondered why God would not heal me. I struggled with being in pain all the time and muddled through physical therapy, which only seemed to make matters worse and showed me how far I needed to go to get better.
This time, I decided to try something new. I decided to work this through without doctors and with God. M and I moved recently into a great building in Arlington that has a rooftop gym with an amazing view of Washington DC. For the last two weeks, I have been going up there almost every day and “working out like a rockstar,” as I like to put it. I’ve been on spring break this week and so I have had the gym mostly to myself. I’ve been amazed at what I am capable of doing if I approach it in prayer. I know there is a long road ahead to recovering completely and I may not be able to push surgery off permanently, but I feel stronger and healthier and more capable then I have in years. I have turned my workout into a time of worship. With Chris Tomlin and Matt Redman blasting through my ear buds, I feel strength that I didn’t know I had and it is taking me miles – literally.
Sometimes there are so many distractions that make staying in constant conversation with God difficult. But it is in the little things, such as washing dishes, cleaning the house, going to the grocery store, or taking care of our bodies that we can magnify Him. (I'm sure there are some better examples that don't involve chores that could be inserted into that sentence too.) It certainly has taken me further than I ever could have gone on my own. And who knows how far I’ve yet to go! It helps to know that I'm not going it alone... and never really was.
In the months that have followed, I have been consumed with trying to keep up with the workload for my second semester as a 1L, which has been quite challenging. I have also been trying to recover from another car accident I was in just a few days after Abigail’s funeral in NY that was certainly a setback to my progress. To quote my physical therapist, I am "back at zero." But in these months I have discovered that it is more than just mind over matter, it is keeping God in the details.
About two years ago, after having one spinal procedure and one major surgery that left me hospitalized for a month and not walking unassisted for some time afterwards, I was told that I needed a double spinal fusion. I’ll spare you the gruesome details and just note that it involves removing discs, bone grafting and inserting metal rods and screws into the spine and pelvis. (I guess that was still pretty gruesome. Sorry.) This was before this last accident and after the second of three that have taken such a toll on my body. For years I wondered why God would not heal me. I struggled with being in pain all the time and muddled through physical therapy, which only seemed to make matters worse and showed me how far I needed to go to get better.
This time, I decided to try something new. I decided to work this through without doctors and with God. M and I moved recently into a great building in Arlington that has a rooftop gym with an amazing view of Washington DC. For the last two weeks, I have been going up there almost every day and “working out like a rockstar,” as I like to put it. I’ve been on spring break this week and so I have had the gym mostly to myself. I’ve been amazed at what I am capable of doing if I approach it in prayer. I know there is a long road ahead to recovering completely and I may not be able to push surgery off permanently, but I feel stronger and healthier and more capable then I have in years. I have turned my workout into a time of worship. With Chris Tomlin and Matt Redman blasting through my ear buds, I feel strength that I didn’t know I had and it is taking me miles – literally.
Sometimes there are so many distractions that make staying in constant conversation with God difficult. But it is in the little things, such as washing dishes, cleaning the house, going to the grocery store, or taking care of our bodies that we can magnify Him. (I'm sure there are some better examples that don't involve chores that could be inserted into that sentence too.) It certainly has taken me further than I ever could have gone on my own. And who knows how far I’ve yet to go! It helps to know that I'm not going it alone... and never really was.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
An Angel for Christmas
Last Monday, M and I hopped a flight to New York to get to the hospital to see baby Abigail before it was too late. Nothing could have prepared us for what we would see when we got there. (I tell you only because you need to understand this to understand the blessing God would give us in the midst of all the pain we would experience…) When I walked into the room, I took only a few steps before I ran the other way, out of the PICU and into the waiting area where I fell apart. In that moment, it made sense to me why everyone in my family who I’d spoken to earlier that week shut me down every time I expressed the hope that she could still get better. She no longer looked like a swollen sleeping baby in a coma. She no longer moved her eyes and mouth as though to cry. That adorable wincing face that gave us so much hope was now so still. She was skinny, positioned in an upright position, her head was bandaged and bleeding through, her eyes were partially opened, her skin was so dry. She looked so sick, as though she had given up too.
We stayed there until 3 in the morning, holding her hands, talking to her, saying our goodbyes. My other little sister painted her nails with pink polish. She had promised the baby over and over that she’d give her manicures when she got older and realized that this was her last chance. My sister Michelle was so strong. “She’s tired; she’s ready to go home,” she said.
The next morning M and I arrived at the hospital and sat with Michelle and Abby. After the rest of the family arrived, the doctors asked us to leave the room. Abby’s heart rate had begun to drop. She was telling us she was ready to go. They wrapped Abby in her favorite pink blanket and put on a little pink hat to cover her bandages and Michelle held her. Her husband sat beside them. The family sat out in the waiting room crying while my uncle watched the monitor and let us know what it said until it was turned off. The doctor who’d cared for Abby since the night she was brought in came out and said, “She’s gone.”
One by one we were called into the room, but eventually we were all in there together. Walking back in could not have been more different from the morning before. Our sick little baby had become an angel. Her face no longer looked thin and sad. It seemed to glow. It was as though peace had just come over her little body. I would be lying if I said that I’d ever seen her look more beautiful than she did after she passed. It was God’s gift to us. Rather than remembering how sick she looked, I knew we would always remember how angelic and at rest she looked.
Never in my life have I seen something so small touch so many lives, that even the doctors and nurses were crying after Abby passed. They all took turns with the rest of my family making the sign of the cross over the baby's head with oil and consoling my sister who was still holding her on the bed that Abby had laid on for exactly one month.
The greatest gift for me was when she was placed in my arms one last time. All that time she was sick, I grieved that I’d gotten so little time with her. I never imagined I’d get to hold her again. Holding her in my arms one last time and kissing her little face gave me more comfort than I could ever put into words.
After leaving the hospital to go home and prepare for her funeral and burial, which would take place 5 days before Christmas, I couldn’t understand why I felt this overwhelming sense of peace about everything. I knew it wasn’t coming from myself. I trusted that Abigail was happy in the arms of Jesus.
The next few days were very hard. Saying goodbye is never easy. We mourned not only for our dear niece, but for my sister Michelle. She had changed her life so much because of this baby and I knew our loss could not compare to what she was going through. When a child dies, a parent doesn’t just lose a baby, but all the hopes and dreams they had for that child and for their own life. I do believe that God has a purpose for this loss, but it’s still hard to come to grips with.
M and I made our way back home to be with his daughter for Christmas, even though neither of us had much celebrating in us. How do you explain death to a 6 year old? I just told her that God needed an Angel and couldn’t find a baby more beautiful than Abigail Rose and so He took her home. She just nodded and smiled.
<3...Abigail Rose...<3
Forever in Our Hearts
We stayed there until 3 in the morning, holding her hands, talking to her, saying our goodbyes. My other little sister painted her nails with pink polish. She had promised the baby over and over that she’d give her manicures when she got older and realized that this was her last chance. My sister Michelle was so strong. “She’s tired; she’s ready to go home,” she said.
The next morning M and I arrived at the hospital and sat with Michelle and Abby. After the rest of the family arrived, the doctors asked us to leave the room. Abby’s heart rate had begun to drop. She was telling us she was ready to go. They wrapped Abby in her favorite pink blanket and put on a little pink hat to cover her bandages and Michelle held her. Her husband sat beside them. The family sat out in the waiting room crying while my uncle watched the monitor and let us know what it said until it was turned off. The doctor who’d cared for Abby since the night she was brought in came out and said, “She’s gone.”
One by one we were called into the room, but eventually we were all in there together. Walking back in could not have been more different from the morning before. Our sick little baby had become an angel. Her face no longer looked thin and sad. It seemed to glow. It was as though peace had just come over her little body. I would be lying if I said that I’d ever seen her look more beautiful than she did after she passed. It was God’s gift to us. Rather than remembering how sick she looked, I knew we would always remember how angelic and at rest she looked.
Never in my life have I seen something so small touch so many lives, that even the doctors and nurses were crying after Abby passed. They all took turns with the rest of my family making the sign of the cross over the baby's head with oil and consoling my sister who was still holding her on the bed that Abby had laid on for exactly one month.
The greatest gift for me was when she was placed in my arms one last time. All that time she was sick, I grieved that I’d gotten so little time with her. I never imagined I’d get to hold her again. Holding her in my arms one last time and kissing her little face gave me more comfort than I could ever put into words.
After leaving the hospital to go home and prepare for her funeral and burial, which would take place 5 days before Christmas, I couldn’t understand why I felt this overwhelming sense of peace about everything. I knew it wasn’t coming from myself. I trusted that Abigail was happy in the arms of Jesus.
The next few days were very hard. Saying goodbye is never easy. We mourned not only for our dear niece, but for my sister Michelle. She had changed her life so much because of this baby and I knew our loss could not compare to what she was going through. When a child dies, a parent doesn’t just lose a baby, but all the hopes and dreams they had for that child and for their own life. I do believe that God has a purpose for this loss, but it’s still hard to come to grips with.
M and I made our way back home to be with his daughter for Christmas, even though neither of us had much celebrating in us. How do you explain death to a 6 year old? I just told her that God needed an Angel and couldn’t find a baby more beautiful than Abigail Rose and so He took her home. She just nodded and smiled.
<3...Abigail Rose...<3
Forever in Our Hearts
Friday, December 15, 2006
What My Heart Still Doesn't Know, But Head Believes...
Abby is gone. All that’s left of her is an empty shell. That is what the expert from NYU, who went to the hospital to evaluate my precious niece and give my sister a second opinion, told my family earlier. There is nothing left of her. All those moments when it seemed that she could hear our prayers over her, all those times she opened her sweet little mouth and winced her face trying to cry, might just have been involuntary reflexes. All this time we thought she was fighting, she was only sleeping. She might already have gone home to be with God.
I never wanted to believe that. Even now, my heart will not accept it. How can that be true? How can she be gone when we only got to keep her for such a short time? We never got to hear her laugh or see her take her first steps. We’ll never get to know what kind of child, what kind of girl, what kind of woman she would have been. She’ll never know how wonderful and beautiful and tragic this world can be.
All I have left are a few precious hours engrained in my mind, when I held her in my arms and felt amazed at how much love I could feel for something so small.
Today, my sister got to hold her baby for the first time in four weeks… minutes before they told her that her baby was gone. Instead of planning Abby’s first Christmas, she is planning her funeral.
There are just no words…
I never wanted to believe that. Even now, my heart will not accept it. How can that be true? How can she be gone when we only got to keep her for such a short time? We never got to hear her laugh or see her take her first steps. We’ll never get to know what kind of child, what kind of girl, what kind of woman she would have been. She’ll never know how wonderful and beautiful and tragic this world can be.
All I have left are a few precious hours engrained in my mind, when I held her in my arms and felt amazed at how much love I could feel for something so small.
Today, my sister got to hold her baby for the first time in four weeks… minutes before they told her that her baby was gone. Instead of planning Abby’s first Christmas, she is planning her funeral.
There are just no words…
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Waiting For God. An Update on Abigail
I remember when I arrived at the hospital the Sunday before last, I opened my Bible trying to make sense of what was going on, hoping to land on a verse that would bring me comfort and understanding. For the next week that I was in New York with my family, I tried my hardest to push that verse aside. The verse was Isaiah 57:1-2: “The righteous pass away; the godly often die before their time. And no one seems to care or wonder why. No one seems to understand that God is protecting them from the evil to come. For the godly who die will rest in peace.”
Clearly, I could not imagine that God would take this precious little one who never had a chance to walk upright, let alone sin, before we had a chance to know her, before she had a chance to grow up and learn about this world or His word… I could not fathom it, though it rested heavy on my heart in the days that followed, and still does.
God has not taken Abigail. She is still with us, though how much alive she is, and what is left of her is still a matter of so much speculation.
Yesterday, my dad called with new that Abby was showing signs of some improvement, though she was still so deep in her coma. Today, there is new news, news of such a different character. The bleeding in Abby’s brain has worsened. One of her doctors has told my sister that Abby is paralyzed. Another said it’s not conclusive but there is little evidence that it’s not true.
There, Abby waits in her coma. What comfort does she have? We do not know if she can hear her mother’s voice or if she heard our prayers over her, our pleas for her to get better. All this time it was a comfort to me to know that even if she could not hear, God could. I struggle with why He does not answer. I know He is sovereign. I try to hold my head up high and wait patiently for God. But this is so defeating and we are crushed by the weight of this.
Why does God choose not to heal? I'm sure that any member of my family would bear any suffering if it could bring this little one back and restore her. Isn’t that how much God loves us? That He died to save us? How I wish that He’d have mercy on this shattered family, on this broken child. How I wish He'd heal her. I trust in God’s power… I just wish His will was the same as mine. There is no way for me to tell. My hope is all that sustains me and it seems to fade so fast. I know God is faithful and I put my trust in Him, even if His will should be to "spare" Abigail in a way different from what we hope and pray for.
Still, we hope and pray.
Clearly, I could not imagine that God would take this precious little one who never had a chance to walk upright, let alone sin, before we had a chance to know her, before she had a chance to grow up and learn about this world or His word… I could not fathom it, though it rested heavy on my heart in the days that followed, and still does.
God has not taken Abigail. She is still with us, though how much alive she is, and what is left of her is still a matter of so much speculation.
Yesterday, my dad called with new that Abby was showing signs of some improvement, though she was still so deep in her coma. Today, there is new news, news of such a different character. The bleeding in Abby’s brain has worsened. One of her doctors has told my sister that Abby is paralyzed. Another said it’s not conclusive but there is little evidence that it’s not true.
There, Abby waits in her coma. What comfort does she have? We do not know if she can hear her mother’s voice or if she heard our prayers over her, our pleas for her to get better. All this time it was a comfort to me to know that even if she could not hear, God could. I struggle with why He does not answer. I know He is sovereign. I try to hold my head up high and wait patiently for God. But this is so defeating and we are crushed by the weight of this.
Why does God choose not to heal? I'm sure that any member of my family would bear any suffering if it could bring this little one back and restore her. Isn’t that how much God loves us? That He died to save us? How I wish that He’d have mercy on this shattered family, on this broken child. How I wish He'd heal her. I trust in God’s power… I just wish His will was the same as mine. There is no way for me to tell. My hope is all that sustains me and it seems to fade so fast. I know God is faithful and I put my trust in Him, even if His will should be to "spare" Abigail in a way different from what we hope and pray for.
Still, we hope and pray.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Giving Thanks; Needing Prayers....
At this time last year and for every year for as long as I can remember, my grandmother and I sat and cut celery for the olive salad, spiced our homemade stuffing with fresh sage, mixed our sweet potato balls, and prepared the mixture for the manicotti we’d roll the next morning. This year, we sit vigil. There are no preparations to be made. We just wait for news to come. Thanksgiving this year will not be like the Thanksgivings of years past. Tomorrow we will be thankful not for the bounty of food we lay upon the table but for what little hope we have to hold onto. Thankful that our precious Abigail Rose is still with us. That she is still alive and that our family is together. There will not be turkey, but there will be thanksgiving…
Three days ago, the morning after my birthday, M and I awoke to a call from my sister telling us that her 26 day-old baby was in the hospital in critical condition. How could we have known that by the time we got to NY after a 5 hour bus ride that that little angel would have had 3 cardiac arrests and be fighting for her life? How could we have anticipated that she would be hooked up to all kinds of machines, that a ventilator would be breathing for her, or that within three days her brain would swell so badly that she’d be in a coma? There is nothing that can prepare a person for a sight like this. The sight of my sister, helpless, broken down, asking the same question that everyone has asked every hour, everyday since this happened – a question that no one can answer or understand: Why? Why does a thing like this happen? Why does God allow such suffering? I have never known pain like this.
Everyone sits around and cries until they are too numb or tired or frustrated. A family that has never really prayed, whose religion has always been so textbook, is now asking God for help and answers. But they don’t come soon enough to make anyone content. Abby’s life is in His hands and the future is so uncertain. The doctors take care not to give us too much hope. They are so grounded in the reality of their science that they forget that our God is bigger than this. It’s just a matter of whether or not He’ll choose to move in the way we hope He will. And how we hope…
I have never wanted anything in my life the way I want to see that precious baby wake up, open her eyes, stick out her tongue at me when I sing… just for one moment to hear her cry. Just to see her again in her mommy’s arms. Right now, she is so absent from her little swollen body… But I know God is present even if Abby seems so far from us. And I thank Him for every minute I have with my family, even when we are at odds with each other and our stress and fear and frustration lead us to lash out at one another…. I thank Him for every minute I can look at that little girl and remember what it was like to hold her in my arms, and picture the way she brought such joy to her mother’s eyes, the way they both lit up like her little glow worm.
This year, Thanksgiving will not be about eating. We won’t come together as a family at the dinner table we’ve eaten at for the last 26 years. But we will come together…
Please keep my sister Michelle and her husband Shawn and my whole family in prayer this Thanksgiving and thank God for those who are in your lives, even the littlest lives that we sometimes take so for granted.
Please pray for Abby….
Three days ago, the morning after my birthday, M and I awoke to a call from my sister telling us that her 26 day-old baby was in the hospital in critical condition. How could we have known that by the time we got to NY after a 5 hour bus ride that that little angel would have had 3 cardiac arrests and be fighting for her life? How could we have anticipated that she would be hooked up to all kinds of machines, that a ventilator would be breathing for her, or that within three days her brain would swell so badly that she’d be in a coma? There is nothing that can prepare a person for a sight like this. The sight of my sister, helpless, broken down, asking the same question that everyone has asked every hour, everyday since this happened – a question that no one can answer or understand: Why? Why does a thing like this happen? Why does God allow such suffering? I have never known pain like this.
Everyone sits around and cries until they are too numb or tired or frustrated. A family that has never really prayed, whose religion has always been so textbook, is now asking God for help and answers. But they don’t come soon enough to make anyone content. Abby’s life is in His hands and the future is so uncertain. The doctors take care not to give us too much hope. They are so grounded in the reality of their science that they forget that our God is bigger than this. It’s just a matter of whether or not He’ll choose to move in the way we hope He will. And how we hope…
I have never wanted anything in my life the way I want to see that precious baby wake up, open her eyes, stick out her tongue at me when I sing… just for one moment to hear her cry. Just to see her again in her mommy’s arms. Right now, she is so absent from her little swollen body… But I know God is present even if Abby seems so far from us. And I thank Him for every minute I have with my family, even when we are at odds with each other and our stress and fear and frustration lead us to lash out at one another…. I thank Him for every minute I can look at that little girl and remember what it was like to hold her in my arms, and picture the way she brought such joy to her mother’s eyes, the way they both lit up like her little glow worm.
This year, Thanksgiving will not be about eating. We won’t come together as a family at the dinner table we’ve eaten at for the last 26 years. But we will come together…
Please keep my sister Michelle and her husband Shawn and my whole family in prayer this Thanksgiving and thank God for those who are in your lives, even the littlest lives that we sometimes take so for granted.
Please pray for Abby….
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Twenty-Five (Happy Birthday to Me)
Today, I turned 25. Yes, it’s true, I’ve made it halfway through my twenties. Guess it’s time to start planning for retirement, checking out the local assisted living facilities, and saving up for that hip replacement I’ll undoubtedly need! OK, so maybe 25 is not THAT old. Today, though, I feel like a dinosaur. Truly, Barney has nothing on me. Except that he’s fat and purple…
For whatever reason, no birthday has hit me like this one has. I guess it just caught up with me, how fast time has flown by. My twenties are a blur to me. I hardly remember them. And here I am, 25, married, a stepmom (not evil, fortunately), living far from home, almost half-way done with my first year of law school... Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was planning my Sweet 16 and praying to get as far away from high school as quickly as I possibly could? Well I did, but it just happened so quickly! Fortunately, there are no regrets. I’m where I belong in every sense of the word… only I’m “old” now.
I feel… grown up. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. (I’ll try now to stop offending those of my readers who are not as “young” as I am (sorry!!)) In truth, since I got baptized in August, I’ve felt like a different person, probably more myself than I’ve ever felt before. And that’s a little scary because I can’t help but wonder why it took so long to figure all that out. It was all in God’s time. My desires have changed, my heart has changed, my outlook on life, all of it has changed… matured, I’d like to think. For the first time in my life I’m happy; I’m settled. I am content with where I am and what I’m doing. I know God has me in his grip. He is hard at work. So many wonderful things are happening all around me…
My wonderful husband just found out he’ll be playing guitar for our (mega-)church. God has brought him to a place where he can use the talents he’s been given to serve Him the best way he knows how. My baby sister is a mom now, growing up too, and I’m an aunt to this precious little child. I am so blessed to have godly friends in my life who encourage and inspire me everyday and push me to be the godly woman I so want to be. In 25 short (long?) years, God has brought me to a place of peace I never thought I’d reach. Through all my doubt, He was so faithful.
I am old now, so I’d like to think that makes me “wise.” I am grateful.
For whatever reason, no birthday has hit me like this one has. I guess it just caught up with me, how fast time has flown by. My twenties are a blur to me. I hardly remember them. And here I am, 25, married, a stepmom (not evil, fortunately), living far from home, almost half-way done with my first year of law school... Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was planning my Sweet 16 and praying to get as far away from high school as quickly as I possibly could? Well I did, but it just happened so quickly! Fortunately, there are no regrets. I’m where I belong in every sense of the word… only I’m “old” now.
I feel… grown up. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. (I’ll try now to stop offending those of my readers who are not as “young” as I am (sorry!!)) In truth, since I got baptized in August, I’ve felt like a different person, probably more myself than I’ve ever felt before. And that’s a little scary because I can’t help but wonder why it took so long to figure all that out. It was all in God’s time. My desires have changed, my heart has changed, my outlook on life, all of it has changed… matured, I’d like to think. For the first time in my life I’m happy; I’m settled. I am content with where I am and what I’m doing. I know God has me in his grip. He is hard at work. So many wonderful things are happening all around me…
My wonderful husband just found out he’ll be playing guitar for our (mega-)church. God has brought him to a place where he can use the talents he’s been given to serve Him the best way he knows how. My baby sister is a mom now, growing up too, and I’m an aunt to this precious little child. I am so blessed to have godly friends in my life who encourage and inspire me everyday and push me to be the godly woman I so want to be. In 25 short (long?) years, God has brought me to a place of peace I never thought I’d reach. Through all my doubt, He was so faithful.
I am old now, so I’d like to think that makes me “wise.” I am grateful.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Loved By God
I am a sinner. I am so far from perfect. Never have been, and quite certain that I never will be. Yet, I am loved by God. Though sometimes I despise this body that I so often take for granted, I am told that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I have read that suffering and physical pain produce patience and perseverance but, so often, I’m too bound, too selfish, too caught up to be made wise. I’m such a stubborn girl. And though I’ve been such a reluctant student, I’ve received such divine instruction. I’ve gained so greatly from the lessons I too soon forget. Only to have the nerve to question why I’m at a loss again, as though there’s anyone to blame but me. I’m so forgetful. So ungrateful, it would seem, for all that I’ve been shown -- for the trouble God has pulled me through, for the reward I could have never earned.
It’s so hard to comprehend the love of a God that I have never seen and only known.
What could I have done to deserve the love of One who is more perfect than I’ll ever comprehend, when I’ve done nothing but disappoint and reject and forget, time and time again? And there’s the truth: The answers not a thing. The same conclusion, once again, comes down to that cold sentence: “It’s not about me.” It’s all about Him and His Grace: a Love, a Forgiveness that I could never deserve – not even if I had 100 lives to live.
And sometimes the burden seems too much to bear. How could I live up to that, knowing I’m so apt to fail? [I can't.]
“All men sin and fall short of the glory of God.” That’s little comfort to me now. Yet, whether we glorify Him or not, He’s still there watching, loving, providing. His hand is steady, though we’re so easily moved. He remains willing to widen the road beneath our feet if we should lose our way in a world where there are so many lost. He seeks to find them out.
How could I ever express the gratitude I feel for a Gift no works of mine could ever match?
I can only try to live a life that's worthy, knowing I’m so certain to fail, certain that in any case, through anything, He’ll love me still.
It’s so hard to comprehend the love of a God that I have never seen and only known.
What could I have done to deserve the love of One who is more perfect than I’ll ever comprehend, when I’ve done nothing but disappoint and reject and forget, time and time again? And there’s the truth: The answers not a thing. The same conclusion, once again, comes down to that cold sentence: “It’s not about me.” It’s all about Him and His Grace: a Love, a Forgiveness that I could never deserve – not even if I had 100 lives to live.
And sometimes the burden seems too much to bear. How could I live up to that, knowing I’m so apt to fail? [I can't.]
“All men sin and fall short of the glory of God.” That’s little comfort to me now. Yet, whether we glorify Him or not, He’s still there watching, loving, providing. His hand is steady, though we’re so easily moved. He remains willing to widen the road beneath our feet if we should lose our way in a world where there are so many lost. He seeks to find them out.
How could I ever express the gratitude I feel for a Gift no works of mine could ever match?
I can only try to live a life that's worthy, knowing I’m so certain to fail, certain that in any case, through anything, He’ll love me still.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Just Married... <3
52 days ago, at sunset, Friday, August 11, 2006, M and I became one in a Christian wedding ceremony before God on Grace Bay Beach in the Turks & Caicos Islands. It was a night more perfect and romantic than I ever could have dreamed of. It was straight out of a fairy-tale and my groom was more handsome than any prince I could have imagined as a little girl growing up. The wind and the sounds of the ocean were our music. The sunbathers standing far down the beach and clapping loud enough for us to hear it when we kissed were our witnesses. And the setting sun lit up the sky brighter than any candles. It wasn’t the big fancy wedding I had once envisioned but it was more than I could have ever hoped for: to be marrying my best friend, the person who knows me and understands me and accepts and loves me better than anyone in this whole world, the man who has my whole heart, who helped me through the toughest times and darkest days of my life, who stood by my side through so much more than any man ever has, my other half, my partner in crime is now my partner for life. I am the luckiest girl in the world.
There was so many times in my life that I wondered if I’d ever get to this point. Where I am truly, 100% happy and content with my life. Still, there are problems with health, which never seem to go away, but where my heart is concerned I know it is in able hands. In M, I’ve found more than a husband. I’ve found peace. And I see now more than ever why marriage is to be like our relationship with Christ and his to us. If M and I can love each other this much, how much more does God love us? He has been so faithful!
Still, I know that there will be times when our marriage will suffer trials. It already has in the 2 short months we’ve been married and I truly believe we are stronger for it and will be, come what may. In such a short time, I’ve become a wife and a step-mom, a law student and a newly-baptized Christian. It amazes me that given my past mistakes, God has brought me this far and continues to increase my joy. Nothing I could ever have done could make me worthy of such a reward as His gift of salvation, as the glimpse of heaven I have in my beautiful husband’s deep blue eyes. How could I ever put to words how grateful I am to be where I’m standing? I can't.
Still, I try... <3
Monday, September 11, 2006
The Healing is Slow
Has it really been five years since my beautiful New York City was turned into a war zone? Though I’ve watched the images replayed countless times, they still cut to the bone like they did the first time I saw them. They still produce the same shock and fear. It’s hard not to get angry. I just got off the phone with my younger sister, who lost someone she loved that day. It’s no easier to talk about it now than it was then. The wound is still so fresh. There are still no words. She got off the phone just a moment ago, before the moment of silence at 8:46. She couldn’t speak anymore. She’s married now and has a baby on the way that will be born next month. She decided to go to work today to avoid watching the news, which I’ve been doing all morning.
They’re reading off the names of those lost now and I wait for the names of those I knew, people I went to school with, relatives of close friends, people whose bodies were never recovered, like my sister’s boyfriend. For five years those families have suffered. Has there been any healing? It’s hard to say.
New York has been built back up in these five years but the towers no longer stand and never will again. Soon it will be a memorial, something a lot of New Yorkers fought against. In many ways, it has gone back to business as usual – some might say that that’s a tribute to those who died, that we carry on - but has anyone forgotten? Maybe some have. We are no longer united as we were in the days and weeks and months following the attacks. There are no longer American flags streaming from every front porch and every passing vehicle. Politics have taken over again, dividing us. Americans have forgotten how our President stood with the people of New York and vowed to make the terrorists hear from us. I haven’t.
I’d like to believe we are still in the process of making them hear. In the meantime, all we can do is pray for those who are still suffering today as they suffered five years ago and hope that there will be retribution and peace for them someday. The healing comes slowly, but eventually it will come. (Won't it?)
However hard it is to recall or put into words, I know I’ll never forget. I doubt any of us touched by that day will.
The second moment of silence has just passed...
And the memories of that day rush to my mind. Walking in the door after running through the streets to get home. My family answering the door in tears . We almost collapsed right there. But mostly, I remember those days following 9/11, when my family and I all sat together and watched the news for nearly 24 hours at a time. We sat and cried together, talked together, watched the countless childen holding up "missing" signs on the news, begging for their loved ones' return. I felt so fortunate to be with mine. Up to that point in my life, I don't think I ever felt more love for them as I did in those days.
What a reminder that day was and will always be of the need to tell those we love how much we love them -- especially when we think of how many people likely died without ever being able to do so... I'm glad I was able to today.
NEVER FORGET.
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