Solus Christus

Nothing I have done - or ever will do - for Rachel, through Rachel, or because of Rachel is of myself or in my strength.  It was all His plan from before the beginning of time and He prepared me in advance for the work He had set out for me to do.

Not to us, but to His name be the glory....

These are the lyrics to the song playing first on my blog now.... 

"In Christ Alone"

In Christ alone will I glory
Though I could pride myself in battles won
For I've been blessed beyond measure
And by His strength alone I'll overcome
Oh, I could stop and count successes like diamonds in my hands
But those trophies could not equal to the grace by which I stand

[chorus]
In Christ alone
I place my trust
And find my glory in the power of the cross
In every victory
Let it be said of me
My source of strength
My source of hope
Is Christ alone

In Christ alone do I glory
For only by His grace I am redeemed
For only His tender mercy
Could reach beyond my weakness to my need
And now I seek no greater honor in just to know Him more
And to count my gains but losses to the glory of my Lord

[chorus]
In Christ alone
I place my trust
And find my glory in the power of the cross
In every victory
Let it be said of me
My source of strength
My source of hope
Is Christ alone

Picking Daisies

Saturday we got pizza and went to eat at Rachel's grave.  We stopped at McDonalds to get drinks on the way and there were daisies everywhere.  Matt hopped out and picked some for me to bring to her. 

 

I brought them and hung them on her shepherd hook.  I was wishing I had a vase so they wouldn't die right away. 

My visits have been less regular... almost never making it on Fridays anymore.  I'm just so tired and my days get away from me.  I don't feel the drive to get there on Fridays right now, so I go with whatever I need for the day.  Often it ends up being a Saturday or Sunday that I feel I want to be there.  I'm also starting to like to go with Matt more now, where I used to like to be alone.... I think partially because for a long time, he didn't really seem to like being there.  I'm not sure if it was just where he was at in his grieving process or not, but these days he will actually ask me if I want to go and it feels more like we're both 'in it' while we're there.... which is so good for my heart.  He helps me get it cleaned up (I hate dealing with bugs that gather in the grass clipping that land on her stone) and does the bending for me since I am not good at that these days. 

I can't believe she's been gone 2 1/2 years this month.  It feels like so much less and so much more at the same time. 

Feeling at a loss for words, but wanted to share about my guy picking his girls flowers.... I've been dying to get some of them off those hills and can't really do it myself, so it was a big deal.

Breaking My Pride

I have been missing Rachel a lot the last couple of days.  The roads and highways here are covered in wild daisies... and I want it to make me smile like it usually does.... but for some reason my heart feels heavy when I look at them.

If I could pick every one of them for her, I would.

I woke up yesterday and, as usual, she was one of the first thoughts on my mind.  I felt my eyes well up, but the feeling quickly turned to anger.  I HATE that she's gone.  As I threw my blankets off and got out of bed, I resented that I couldn't have been faced with a temporary trial.  Like, why couldn't I have had a serious illness that got really bad and I had to cling to God through and then after He healed me physically, I could say it was a trial I endured in the past?  And "Praise God!  I made it through and learned so much and now I can live like it never happened."  Why did I have to have a trial that meant my life could never be the same?  Why did it have to mean that every day for the rest of my life I would know that I could never fully recover from it because she will never return to me on this side of heaven?  And why did it have to be a trial that so few people around me understood?

I went into the kids' rooms as always, opening blinds and shutting off fans and as I swung the boy's blind string to the right, I bashed my funny bone on the bunk bed.  I wanted to cry, but instead I said a bad word. 

My mother always said anger was a second emotion... and I've found that to be true.  It's always followed after a different emotion that isn't quite as comfortable.  It's easier to be mad then to face the truth, that in my pride, I think I deserved to keep her.

She was never mine.

And the daisies everywhere are reminding me of that lately.

But maybe the biggest blessing on the path I have had to walk is that God continually breaks my pride - which has never done anything but keep me further from Him and allow me to falsely believe that I was better than I was.  Pride allowed me to think I didn't need him in certain parts of my life.  Pride kept me believing that I had control, even if just a tiny bit, over MY plans for my life.  Pride allowed me to think somehow that God was supposed to keep me happy, rather than showing me that in order to follow Him, I needed to be willing to pour myself completely, utterly out in order to be more like Him.  Pride told me I didn't have a problem with pride.  Pride built me up for a much bigger fall.  The higher you are, the further you have to drop - and everyone does eventually. 

The daily reminder of this as I miss my girl, knowing that this trial doesn't mean I have met my quota and will never suffer again, keeps me lower to the ground.  It keeps me humble.  It hurts, but brings life at the same time. It used to take a lot more than a hurt funny bone to get my attention.

When Rachel was lowered into a hole in the ground and covered in dirt, my entire being knew like never before how little control I have in this life... how helpless I am...how much I need Jesus.   I'm thankful that my pride was buried right along with my girl.  That my identity will never again be in anything but Jesus....that my devotion to Him got deeper and more true.... That I know where my true home is and that as a result, I am more sensitive to what God desires in my earthly life.  That having been loved so tenderly by The Great King during those days, my love for Him became richer and I became aware of His jealousy to own my heart completely....and more willing than ever to let Him.

I'm thankful that when I'm tempted to forget those things... I have the daily pain of losing my daughter, always breaking my pride and reminding me that I am entitled to nothing good in this life...yet He gives me so much more than I deserve.  Starting with the time I did get to spend with Rachel and how sweet it was to taste the goodness of the Lord and hold a piece of my heavenly home in my arms.

As He Promised

We went on a field trip with a homeschool group to York's Wild Kingdom on Thursday.  The kids were really excited that Matt took the day off to come with us.  I love watching these guys get so excited about everything and seeing how their personalities come out. 

Asa is such a brute... he was climbing fences and running right up to pet and feed animals with no fear.  I think he might have scared them though!

 

 

Isaiah was gathering every piece of dropped food off the ground so he could feed more to the animals and asking tons of questions.  And I hope we answered them correctly because I am sure we will be hearing them all back for a long time to come.  He is our little man with lots of random facts that he is VERY excited to talk about... all. the. time.

 

 

Sam was climbing fences every time we turned around - which is a new thing for him.  He's never been a rugged boy so this was kind of exciting for us to see him gaining strength and confidence... however, it was against the rules so immediately after taking the photo, I told him to get down. :)

 

Yes, that lady was walking over to tell him to get down... And his bad Mama was only worried about a picture!

 

And Desirae was seeking out all the babies to feed.... which was exactly what I used to do as a little girl...she wandered off away from the boys for quiet time with all of the animals and helped Asa along so he didn't get into too much trouble.  She is so sweet.

 

He really wanted in that cage.... this turned into a temper tantrum :)

 

I can't help it.  I go to things like this with our whole family and my heart feels it.... she's not with us.  And more than that, it feels the fact that nobody else knows. 

I have this constant internal struggle to not hold people accountable to remember her.  To understand that she is my daughter and accept that nobody else will care like I do.  To be okay with time moving forward and her becoming a sad story from the past to them, when she is always present to me and still part of my story every day....forever.  I try to believe that just because they won't say her name doesn't mean they don't think of her when they see us all together.  I fight the urge to say to every passerby who comments on our family size (and SO MANY do) that she is part of our gang too - and often I find myself saying it because I can't not say it.

When we walk into a room... my family... I want everyone to feel what I feel... that we are one short, even with our growing number.  I want them to know that I have not forgotten that I have a little girl waiting for us in heaven.  That the babies that have come since her will never replace her.  But nobody seems to - and I'm learning one interaction at a time how to deal with that hurt.  Because it hurts, even though it is completely unintentional, totally not unloving, and maybe not even universally true.  And it hurts, even though nobody would ever know I'm thinking about it at all.  Maybe that's part of why it hurts... because I feel so alone in it.  Maybe it hurts because I hate being alone in it.  And what do I expect people to say anyway?  "Hey, glad you're here, too bad Rachel isn't?"   I understand why it's not easy for people to do.  So many days I just wish that someone would just say they were thinking about her. 

As we stood in line with the other families waiting to enter the park, and all the surface conversations started and people start asking about how many kids we have, when I'm due and if we know what we're having... followed by the inevitable head count of their genders and how we 'really need a girl'.... My heart begs me... 

Just tell them we have two girls and that is only one less than the 3 boys, we're not *that* "out numbered"... and even if we were... at least their heads are round....  tell them that we're just thankful we get to keep the beautiful girl we have right here with us.  Tell them what's between the legs is the least of our worries....

And for the people that I know are aware of Rachel's death, my heart says...

tell them how many babies die each year.... tell them it's insensitive to make Desirae listen to this, as if it's not bad enough that her sister is dead....ask them if they think it doesn't hurt HER to constantly hear how lopsided our family count is - or if their child died if they would want to hear about the need to fill that gender spot in their family for it to be considered ideal or complete.  

But I can't.  That would be uncomfortable for them - and rude of me, right?  So, for Desirae's sake as much as my own, I decided a bathroom break was in order... Some times I really do wish my life could be as simple as it used to be... when standing in line with a group of people was just about waiting and not about missing someone and when having a baby was all about due dates and gender.

But God is always so good to me.  I sucked it up and tried to just focus on being with my family and we were about half way through the zoo when a lady walked up to me and asked if I was Stacy....  This is a common occurrence and I knew what was coming next... before she even said the words, I felt a weight lift off my heart...

"I follow your blog."  She said as I heard her daughter say to a little one she was holding "Let's go meet Stacy" and they joined our conversation and said she follows my blog too.   I will never tire of this...  hearing yet another person's story of how Rachel's life has reached and changed someone's heart.  And how my honesty in my grief has been a blessing.   I will never tire of hearing Rachel's name.  I was so thankful to hear her name that day.

Thank You Lord.... She isn't forgotten.... someone knows we are a big family who is still missing someone. 

Suddenly Rachel didn't feel so far away - or left out - anymore. 

She shared with me about a failed adoption she endured years ago and how hard it was... and told me that she has found comfort in my words about grief and loss. As much as it's a blessing to know people remember Rachel, I have to say that I am never more honored than when someone is willing to share their heart with me like this.  When someone I have never met feels safe enough and trusts me enough with their hearts to tell me about pain they went through - or still go through - and to know that they will be understood and that I care.  To know that when I started this blog I had no idea I would reach such people.... but God did....

In those moments, I am thankful for how God has prompted me to make myself so vulnerable in this trial.  I'm thankful for even the difficulties I have endured because of my openness.  I'm thankful to have been given such an amazing purpose in life and that it has helped me to keep Rachel's legacy going long after she left me... because had I believed the lie that in order to glorify Him I need to slap a smile on my face and say all the 'right' things all the time, this would have never happened.  I could have never helped so many people.  And I'm willing to bet I wouldn't have people approaching me everywhere we go telling me about their stories and still caring about mine.   And yes, this sweet lady allowed me to debrief about the struggle I was having up until that point in the day and her understanding helped me to let it all go. 

I had to work that night and so when we got home, I decided to lay down for the 50 minutes I had before I had to leave.  I crawled into bed with Rachel's blanket and all of this came to mind.... I was overwhelmed with emotion and tears started to fall and this is what was running through my mind...

I didn't deserve all this then.  I don't deserve all this now.  But God has given it to me.  In what could have been a fully painful and completely sad story.... He has given me beauty.  He has given me thankfulness.  He has given me purpose. He has given me joy.  He has given me amazing conversations in the warm sun with complete strangers at a zoo an hour away from home - exactly when I need them most - and hundreds of stories just like it - so many I cannot even remember or count them all.  He has given me more than I ever could have imagined... and far more than I deserve.  And He did it all through my daughter's death.  It just doesn't make sense.  On top of it all, he has given all of this to my children who have watched how he has provided for their Mama through the hardest trial I will ever endure.  For this mama, that is more important than anything I could have received for myself through all of this because I know He is using this in their lives as well.

I got so emotional, I thought my chance at a cat nap was over....  but just as I decided I should get up so I wouldn't be worse off for work, and even as my tears still dropped to the pillow, I fell fast asleep.  And I woke up a half hour later feeling like I had a good rest and ready for work.

Today at our morning worship, we sang the hymn Like a River Glorious.  The last line sums up what this journey through anencephaly, loss, hope, grief, surrender, joy and unexpected blessings has taught me.....

"Those who trust Him wholly, find Him wholly true."

The refrain sings.... "Stayed up on Jehovah, hearts are fully blest - finding , as He promised, perfect peace and rest."

I claim no credit for leaning on him wholly through this.  In my humanness, I am not capable.  My heart is prone to wander and leave the God I love.  I give all the glory to God for holding me close and drawing me near through this valley.... and for proving His faithfulness true over and over to me as I wade through the uncertain waters and wait on His promises with Hope.  He has never let me down - and even in the midst of heartache and despair, I have found peace and rest in Him... just as He promised.

True Love

Singing "My Jesus, I love thee" (one of the best hymns ever) together tonight on the couch during our family devotions....

Asa was giving me each foot, one at a time, for me to pick out his toe jam and I was doing it gladly without thinking twice....

Sam interrupted the song to say "Daddy, you have big teeth" as he sang along with him about 3 inches from his face.

Isaiah was going between really quiet and extremely loud depending on which words he knows.

Des was getting frustrated that we were off beat from the instrumental version we were listening to as background music.

My Little E was dancing around and seemingly trying to get away from big brother Asa who kept kicking my belly with his chubby feet because my toe jam removal was tickling him.

It was a very unorganized display of worship, and yet I knew it was pleasing to God as we loved each other and sang to him.  We are so blessed in so many ways.  The only thing that would make this any better would be if the little girl who made these lyrics so meaningful to me was here with us too.  I bet she would have been twirling around the living room.

I can't remember, but I'm sure I had heard this song before I was pregnant with Rachel, but it was during my time with her that this song became one of my favorites.  At a time when it would have been so easy to be upset with God for the lot He was giving me, I was never so grateful to him... and I think it all came down to the fact that until Rachel, heaven never mattered so much to me.  Because until her, it seemed to be just an intangible place far away that wouldn't apply to me for a long time.  I know as Christians we are supposed to long to be there, but I'll admit it, I didn't.  I loved my earthly life too much to want to be anywhere else, even if it was supposed to be better. 

But as I prepared to meet her and then send her so quickly off to a place where she would still live, but could only go because of Jesus  - and I only had a guarantee of seeing her again because of my belief and trust in His death on the cross...  well, my love for him could only get deeper.  As my pride was diminished in the realization of my dependence on him, His forgiveness of my sins could only be more beautiful.  The sacrifice He made for me more amazing.  The hope of being reunited with her and His promise to carry me until I get there no matter how painful it is along the way.... knowing He was going to take better care of her than I ever could and eventually all of my earthy pain would cease forever....

I'm not sure I can put words to what that feels like....to be able to call Jesus mine and to know I am His.  I'm not sure I can describe what it means to love him in death...the death of my daughter... all I can say is it's way more real and deep and humbling and joyful and awe-filled than anything I ever experienced as I loved him through life before her.  And when I truly started to understand how deep His love for me is and how trustworthy and faithful He is, even when His plan is not what I would choose....  I wonder if perhaps that is when I really began to understand what Love is at all.  I'm not sure I knew True Love before. I thought I did, but I had no idea what I was missing.  It's amazing.

And so while Isaiah's prayer during our prayer time following our songs was "Please don't let the new baby be like Rachel" and I understand what he means,  I am so thankful that Rachel was and is exactly who she was and is.  Because as I sing "If ever I loved Thee, My Jesus, 'tis now" and I feel the tears come to my eyes with gratitude for what He has done for me and my sweet baby, I know that this journey has been a true gift to me in so many ways. 

Jesus, thank You for this hard road so paved with Your True Love and the story of You, my gracious Redeemer and Savior.  Thank you for allowing me the privilege of mothering Rachel, for taking her to heaven to be with you fully, and for the promise of eternity with you both.  I love You Lord....more than ever before....I love You.

 

My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;
For Thee all the follies of sin I resign;
My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

 

I love Thee because Thou hast first loved me,
And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree;
I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,
And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;
And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

 

In mansions of glory and endless delight,
I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;
I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow,
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

Dunkin Donut Delivery!!

11 years ago today, I signed out of the county jail on a Friday morning for a day of work release at Dunkin Donuts.  I had asked the jail for a pregnancy test a few times, but they were refusing to give me one.  I had been incarcerated for two weeks by then and had another 11 1/2 months ahead of me.  My attorney agreed to buy me a test and bring it to me at work so that I could get the proper care if I was indeed pregnant.

My circumstances didn't exactly scream "This is a perfect time to be pregnant!!" and yet, I was secretly hoping for two lines.  I saw the secretary from my attorney's office approach the front door, I met her there and took the bag from her.  "Let us know how it goes" she said as she left.

I held onto the test, not able to think about anything else until my first break around 10am.  I went in the stinky bathroom and peed on the stick.  Immediately there were two dark lines.  I looked up at my reflection in the mirror with nothing but excitement, like a little child on the way to an amusement park.  I had no idea the ride I was in for, but I couldn't wait to experience it!

I guess in my naivety I didn't expect people to tell me it would be 'more responsible' or the 'right thing to do' to abort my baby.  I was not a believer then, nor was I exactly pro-life, but I was already in love.  Abortions, I thought, were for the young girls who get raped or are 'too young to be a parent' or just didn't want a baby... and since at that point in my life truth and what was right were relative, and I didn't think those applied to me - why would anyone else? 

I remember making the collect calls excitedly whispering (because I couldn't let the jail know that I had met up with anyone to get the test) about my new baby.  Matt was excited (I have mentioned he's amazing right?  Just 20 years old, pregnant girlfriend in jail and he was all in and ready to support me)  When I got my first letter from someone in Matt's family who I hardly knew at that point (because I hardly knew HIM!) saying it would be best to abort my baby, I was devastated.  And for the next few weeks, that wouldn't be the last person suggesting it.

Ironically, it was that very letter, in that hard situation, that started to change my belief about the "Pro-Choice" movement.  I now know it is actually a Pro-Abortion movement and really has nothing to do with what the girl who is pregnant wants (otherwise people wouldn't pressure them to move as quickly as possible and under educate them about such a huge decision)  But more to do with their own belief about life and what is important to THEM.  I clearly wanted my baby and these people weren't offering me help with diapers, but instead telling me why I should abort and offering help with payment for her murder.  That would be my sweet, unbelievably smart, gentle, loving and witty Desirae May's murder. 

It doesn't change what it is just because you don't yet know what color her hair would be, how smart she would be, or how beautifully she would play the piano.  And it doesn't change what it is because I haven't yet proven my abilities to care for her or because you don't yet know that I was to be released from jail early.....which I was.  It is murder and it's presented as a good way out of a bad mistake - for both you and the baby who won't have to be subjected to your poor circumstances if you make a better choice and end it's life. ??

I am so thankful that I didn't believe the lies that I was better off without her or that I was unable to care for her.  The fear tactics people used to get me to get rid of my 'problem'.... "You'll have this baby in jail and when you do, my mom will have to take care of it while Matt works two jobs to try to support it... I wonder if mom would be so excited if she knew of these ramifications"  Crushing my heart and trying to take any ounce of excitement away when I had nothing else to live for in life.  What for?  Because she actually truly believed that was a better decision than having my baby.  I think she truly believed I needed to hear that people would support me if I realized what a mistake I was making... and my favorite line in the letter "Nobody would even have to know."   Except, I would.  God would.  And all these years later, I would still be suffering alone because I know that people do not welcome conversations about how you aborted your baby.  If they turn away when I talk about Rachel, I can only imagine the response a post abortive mother gets as she tries to grieve the baby she lost, even if by her own 'choice'.  And this is where I would strongly encourage you not to judge people who have had abortions, because believe me, they didn't get away from that free.  No matter what anyone tries to convince people, abortion hurts everyone involved.  every. single. time.

I'm so glad that fear didn't take over... and instead that God used her - that jail 'pregnancy' - to help me, to draw me to Him, and to change my life for better forever.  Only a God like mine could - and would be willing through his mercy and grace - to take a situation like that, where I was living so against Him, and use it for my good and His glory.  And has He ever. 

I first stepped foot in a church when Desirae was 18 months old because I was a single mother and wanted to do something good 'for her'.  Imagine that.... God using a mother's love and devotion to draw her to Himself.... He makes us with that instinct for a reason.  Later, He used Desirae again to draw Matt to a relationship with Jesus and our family was reunited and now loves and follows Him together.  Desirae was the glue that kept us together as we made our way to Jesus.

I woke up today and the first thought on my mind was "I've been a mother for 11 years."  Anniversaries really stay with me.  I'm so thankful that I am not grieving an anniversary now of a 'choice' I made 11 years ago that I cannot take back.  And I am so thankful for every minute of the past 11 years with this child - and all the ways my life is different because of her.  This is why I strongly encourage you to never judge a young, unwed mother.  God has a plan in everything.  When you see a young girl with no ring and a huge belly, pray for her (WITH her!) - that God will bless her for welcoming His child and use that child to save her soul from eternity in hell.  Pray for protection on that baby, but rejoice that she didn't kill it.  Not just for the baby, but for her too. Pray that it will change her life.  Offer to help her...be His hands and feet in her life....tell her the truth....but don't judge her.  God has that taken care of.

I came downstairs and made a coffee.  I told Des what today was and her response was "Can we have some ice cream?" (apparently I've taught her the right way to celebrate!!) :)   We sat down to do our catechism, and I couldn't help but drift into thought about that morning in the Dunkin Donuts bathroom all those years ago.  Just as I did, I saw one of Desirae's friend's mothers pull up.  It was not even 8am and she's only been here once before to drop Des off after a play date, so I was confused.  I looked at Matt and asked if we were expecting Monica for any reason.... I went to the door and she said "Donut Delivery!" as she handed me 6 Dunkin Donuts, one for each of us. 

I don't suppose God was letting me know He still remembers that day too, 11 years ago in the Dunkins bathroom when I gratefully welcomed His child....  He is in every single detail, through every situation.  Sometimes it's a big news delivery on a Friday morning, all alone in a stinky bathroom at the donut shop - and sometimes it's the small donut delivery surrounded by my family on a Friday morning at home.....And sometimes it is in the way He can make them happen on the same day 11 years apart (of course, on Fridays) when He knows I will notice. 

All of my kids have a flower that represents them in my heart... Desirae's is the pink carnation... and so today when I stopped to pick up Rachel's daisies, I had them wrap up a pretty pink carnation for my big girl too.  I brought it out to her and said "Thanks for making me a Mama" and she was SO excited... She said "First Dunkin Donuts and now a pink carnation!"  I smiled at how closely that resembled my pregnancy with her.... it started at Dunkins and ended with a beautiful pink flower.

I saw Matt pull up after work with a long red rose and smiled.... He had stopped at the same flower shop I had gone to earlier to get me some daisies and they told him that I had already been in and that I bought Rachel and Des both flowers... so he got me a rose instead.

So this morning we all ate donuts for breakfast and tonight, all the Aube girls have pretty fresh flowers.  And of course, we celebrated with ice cream, which helped the boys to not feel left out! It's been a good day.

Matt had Asa hand it to me... he really wanted to keep it!

Dancing With My Little Seed

I was stopped at a stop light the other day when this perfectly shaped dandelion seed floated in through the passenger window and danced around me.  It was an unlikely place in the center of town for dandelion seeds to be in the air, but that thought never crossed my mind until right now....

I cupped my hand and moved it around under it, trying to catch it without affecting it's beauty.  No longer concerned with the color of the stop light in front of me, I'm not sure if I held up traffic or not.  But I couldn't ignore it.  The air coming in from both sides of the van was causing it to move back and forth.  The kids were now cheering me on in hopes I would be able to keep this little seed that I was so determined to hold.

I realized if I wanted to catch it for keeps, I'd have to slow the air flow so, without taking my eyes off of it, I reached with my left hand and rolled up my window.... and then moved to the button for the passenger window.... the second window started to go up and I knew I would have the seed safe within my hand in just a few moments....

It started to fall towards me as the breeze slowed.... it touched my hand for just a brief moment and immediately rose again and flew out the window.  I looked in the rear view to see all of the kids looking at me with unsure faces....Did Mama get to keep the seed?

I told them it got away and looked back to the traffic light.... which was green.... and carried on our route.

In those few shorts moments with this beautiful seed and my attempt at catching it, I knew it was just like my girl....  The second it touched my skin and then floated away, I knew it.   It was a picture of her... dancing around me as I tried to find a way to keep it, touching down so momentarily and floating away too soon....sure to leave flowers in places I will never be able to identify... and sadly, just not mine to keep.

I told Matt about it yesterday and as I told him about it landing for a second in my hand, Des added from the back seat... "And it made Mama giggle when it touched her."

I smiled as I remembered that I had giggled like a little girl who just had a butterfly land on her hand... But somehow I hadn't remembered that part.  But I did. I giggled.  It brought this unexplainable and unexpected little piece of joy and laughter to my heart in that moment that if I had just stared straight ahead at the light and kept going, I would have missed.  And the amazing thing about it all is that I can still remember everything about the short time there.... the bright sun, the warm breeze, the music playing, the kids watching me, the determination I had, the smile it brought, the acceptance I had as it flew right back to where it had come from.

And I know that I will probably remember that moment every time I pass that corner in the middle of town.  The place where it is legal to turn right on red, but I didn't.  I stayed still and let God have His way with my heart and this little seed He created.  Some may wonder, what's the point?  It's just a seed that will float away anyway and maybe plant a weed somewhere...  But when I see dandelions, I don't see them as weeds... I see them as unstoppable flowers that grow in the harshest conditions and add a lasting legacy of color everywhere you look, making generations of children laugh, giggle, dance and spin.... with innocence and hope.

I think of how many places, people, stories and little pieces of joy and laughter I have had along this journey with Rachel and I am carried away in a sweet breeze of thankfulness and hopeful expectation, knowing that I have been given such an amazing gift in her... and precisely because of how gentle, delicate and short my time with her was... learning the hard lesson that no matter how hard I try, sometimes God has different plans and as I every day have to again commit my daughter to His hands and trust His great and perfect plan for me - and for her.

Irreplaceable, undeniable, unexplainable, everlasting, eternal, full of hope and acceptance...peace and joy... I put my all into holding her and was blessed to do that for just a short time before she drifted away. 

But the dance, the Hope, the giggle.... their mine to keep and even though it hurts and I'm disappointed with the outcome, I will always remember that place in time.  And every time I see a little flower, I will wonder if my little seed planted it.

Purpose Given Brain

Just finished our end of the year CAT testing... we did the online version, not sure I love that - seems time was wasted scrolling up and down and fighting with the computer. But I LOVE that you get instant results...

I'm so proud and yet so humbled by how well my girl scored.  10 yrs old scoring in the 5th month of 10th grade in language?!  Based on her age, she should be at the end of 4th grade right now.  I know it's not all that uncommon with homeschoolers.... and she usually does score high, but the last couple of years have been hard with Rachel and Asa and now Baby E and I really felt like I wasn't doing well teaching her.  I honestly thought we were going to have to work through the summer to keep up with where she 'should be'.  Even in the subjects I thought she was 'behind' in, she scored above average.  We actually finished our curriculum for this year over a month ago and I moved her right into the next year's work because I felt like she should be further.  I'm such an over achiever... 

I reminded her that her brain is a gift from God that not everyone is given - and of course as I say the words, Rachel is so heavy on my heart I can't tell if my tears are from how proud I am of Des or if they are because I am so painfully aware of the magnitude of what I am saying to her. 

My deepest prayer is that she will use her brain for His purposes and never take for granted that what some have to work so hard to achieve comes easy to her.  I pray she never forgets that every thought, every idea, every bit of intellect that she possesses comes from God, wrapped in an organ that her little sister was not given...and that she can't take credit for. (neither can I)  And just as there are eternal purposes for Rachel being made perfectly without her brain, I pray that Desirae understands that her being born with one should be used for God's eternal purposes as well.  Nothing more.  Nothing less. 

Philippians 3:8

Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ

And so as I sat here looking at her scores, I wasn't prepared for the overflow of emotion that would follow.  I sat here crying and I can't even really put my finger on what about.... thankful for her brain... sad that Rachel didn't have one... relief that I haven't failed her completely (yet) ...humbled....proud....grateful to have the opportunity to have such a huge role in this part of my children's lives.... scared that the others will struggle more than she does and I won't be able to help them....guilt over doubting her... fear of missing something she needs to know....the weight of the responsibility of everything they need resting on me....am I enough?  In a world that constantly insists that children are better off with someone else, away from their homes, letting the 'professionals' take care of them because their mother couldn't possibly meet all their needs... heck, how could she fill them if she doesn't even really understand them without her teaching degree??... am I enough?   

And then I remember that God gave me this role.... and if He gave me a task to do - to raise and teach my children, which He did - He isn't going to leave me to do it alone.  And HE IS ENOUGH!  And I am just so thankful because I am completely inadequate for this job.  I stink at math, I hate doing science projects (although I love watching them, so I must be lazy too!), I am unorganized and undisciplined, and patience has never been a virtue that comes easy to me.  I have a house full of little kids and couldn't even get the room quiet for her testing - all the while feeling like I was failing her for 'denying' her the quietness of a classroom filled with 30 kids all her own age and a teacher other than me with a stop watch sending the loud kids to the office. (oh, how I wish I could send the loud kids to the office some days!!)  I have been pregnant over and over and half of the things on my heart to do for these guys never get done because I am not capable.

Matthew 6:33

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. 

And I'm just crazy enough to admit all that, although most people won't, because I know there is someone who will relate and will be encouraged to know that I don't have it all together either.  I hate when people say "I couldn't homeschool... I'm not patient enough".... oh. my. gosh.... me either!!!  But that's just it.... God is refining me in this position he gave ME - in His infinite wisdom and mercy, He is making me more like Him as my impatience is put right in my face every day.  And as that happens, HIS unbelievable patience with ME is even more clear and I am again humbled by His love.  He has a plan in this.... Good things are hard and worth sacrifice.

2 Corinthians 12:9 

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

So, I've decided, not only are we not going to do school through the summer, we are starting our break early...like today!! This child does not need summer school! I am going to use my time to get next year mapped out (for the planner in me) and lesson plans done so that when the baby gets here, I will be good to go for a while. In the meantime, I'm going to work with them on devotions, obedience and godly character... my three favorite homeschool subjects that never get attention in other schools. :) And while I'm teaching them, I am sure God will be teaching me in the same areas.

I totally didn't expect all of that to just come out.... I guess my main point is my daughter is a genius, we can't take credit for it, and summer time has begun at the Aube house!  Looking forward to a whole bunch of nothing with my kids as we love God and each other, getting to know Him and each other more and more each day because we can!  I honestly have never been more excited about my Daughter of God, Devoted Wife, and Full Time Homeschool Mama role than I am right now - and it has absolutely nothing to do with her grades....  but you know, I do believe that God used Rachel to help get me here - in more ways than one.

Our first day of summer break... kicked off with a picnic near Rachel's garden!

After the Rain - My Mother's Day Sun

My 3rd Mother's Day since she left.....  hard to believe I'm on my 3rd round of 'withouts'.

We have had nothing but sunshine for weeks and this weekend was rainy.  I woke up to pouring rain and was slightly disappointed.  Rain is never fun at the cemetery and I knew I wanted to get there.  I grabbed my daisy umbrella on the way out to church and accepted that God must have something in this rain for me - and it might not be for today.

At church, we sang the song "You dance over me, while I am unaware, You sing all around, but I never hear a sound.... Lord I'm amazed by You, Lord I'm amazed by You, Lord I'm amazed by You... how You love me."

Baby E hardly ever moves (at least that I feel) while I am up and moving around... but I could feel the dance moves going.... I smiled as I remembered how Rachel always did that - didn't matter if I was standing or not, that girl danced....especially during worship.  I was also overwhelmed with the thoughts of how amazingly God loves me - and how the dance that Rachel & I had together was not just the two of us... He was in every step.  I was brought right back to the day she was born.... no sound at all, and yet I could feel Him there and I knew she was there...and somehow when her soul left her body, I could feel it - even though not much changed about her body yet....and in that moment, I think I felt more of Him than I ever had before and ever will again.  Dancing over me... singing all around....welcoming my little girl into His arms....

During the sermon, the program from Rachel's service slipped from a few pages back in my bible... I looked at Matt and the tears just fell.  I didn't think I was fighting them back, I hadn't felt overly emotional yet, but in that moment I really wanted them to stop and they wouldn't.  I can't believe I really lost a child.  

We left and went for our Mother's Day trip to the greenhouse.  This has turned into an annual thing.  It's one of my favorite places to go and if I can go with my family and they are excited to be there... even better!! 

I began my 3rd trimester today!!  28 weeks!

If you remember, last year we 'accidentally' stumbled upon annual dahlias called "Rachel".  I just reread my post about last year's Mother's Day.... I'm glad I write because I didn't remember most of it.  You can read it HERE.  God is very good. 

I had told Matt that for my gift this year, all I wanted was to get some plants for my garden.  I knew I wanted the same "Rachel" Dahlias, but wasn't sure they'd have them again.  And Matt said he had bought me a pot that he wanted to get a house plant for.  We found the dahlias pretty easily, and I was so relieved.  Picked up 6 this year, one for each of the kids, and then picked out some flowers for Rachel's grave.  I picked out some yellow ones since yellow (ironically not pink or purple!) has always been a color that reminds me of her.  I started to second guess that maybe I wanted a more vibrant color and decided to check the names... the yellow ones were called "Sunshine".... In the cart they went! 

I couldn't believe how smoothly the trip was going - and because it wasn't sunny, it wasn't 100 degrees in there like usual, which was much more enjoyable.  We made our way into the section for house plants and stopped at the first table.  I picked up a cute little plant and looked at the name.... "Hope"  Imagine that! first one I touched!  I showed Matt and he said "That's the one!  I prayed that this day would be special for you. God is answering." and he put it in the cart.  I asked "How much is it?" and words I never hear come from my husband's mouth came out.... "I don't care how much it is, it's perfect." 

I read the back of the card to check what it required for care... it reads "Thick green rounded leaves with a trailing habit and low water requirements... this plant is a survivor."  If you read my post from last year, you will see that when I summed up my feelings on the day, I said "I survived it." 

I have survived this entire journey on one thing alone.... HOPE.  Hope in miracles, Hope in Jesus, Hope in heaven.  This plant was heaven sent, just like the Rachel Dahlias were last year.  I'm thankful for moments like these when I know that God is still present - still leading us - still caring about the details of our life after losing Rachel.  Still giving us Hope to plant... and letting us see Rachel bloom through His perfect combination of rain and sunshine.

He even potted it for me when we got home!

 

We left there and grabbed some pizza and went to Rachel's grave.  Unlike last year, I was not greeted with a bunch of gifts on her grave.  There wasn't one.  And strangely, I didn't even notice the huge contrast until I read last year's post. 

 

What I did receive when I got there was unbelievable sunshine!!  The day went from pouring to absolutely perfect, beautiful weather.  Matt cleaned up around her stone for me (he used a plastic butter knife to cut the grass!!) and the kids ran around in the field of dandelions across the way laughing and chasing each other. They are so thoughtful and truly the best gifts of my life... Des & Isaiah kept bringing me flowers and seeded dandelions - so excited to be including Rachel for me.  Isaiah would yell "Mama, I have something that will remind you of Rachel!"

There was another woman bringing Daisies to her husband and son's grave nearby and she came to tell us that her and her husband used to visit Rachel together when they visited their son and loved all the pretty things I put there for her.  She said she walked down the isle 49 years ago with daisies in her hand.  At one point I turned to look and Asa was standing next to her, smelling her flowers.  I went over to get him and talked to her again for a while and as I did, Isaiah sat at our feet clearing around her husband and son's graves with a plastic knife just like Matt did for me!  And here and there he would get involved in the conversation with things like "Did Mike love God?"  I love that kid, he is really a mini-Matt.  I love his servants heart and how he unashamedly talks to people - even complete strangers - about God.

 

We came home and worked in the garden together for a couple of hours.  And I noticed that in just the last 2 days of rain, everything in my garden has sprouted like crazy!  The weeks of sun didn't accomplish what 2 days of rain did.  The peonies are now at least 6 inches higher than they were before the rain - I've never seen anything like it.  But I don't think it's a coincidence that on Mother's Day I am reminded so clearly that pretty things need rain to grow.... but you never notice the growth while it's raining, nor do you reap the benefits.... it's after the rain that the beauty blooms and the scent lingers.  And somehow, after a few days of darkness, we all appreciate more truly the same sun that before we had taken for granted.  That's my journey with Rachel.... dancing in the rain... thanking God for everything.  Everything.  Not just the sun, or what we deem to be a 'good' day.  Because He has purposes in the rain and I've come to realize that the rain makes everything more beautiful. 

 

We ate dinner, did our family devotion time, had ice cream sundaes. I soaked my feet and then I instructed Matt on how to give me a pedicure.... and he did every detail from pushing my cuticles back (which he totally didn't understand the point of, but trust me, it's important), to scrubbing the calluses and giving me a great foot rub! It might be the best pedicure I've ever had.  My feet are very happy.

 

Throughout the entire day, the kids were so excited to celebrate Mother's Day.... they would randomly shout "Happy Mother's Day Mama!" and kept saying how it was the "best day ever".... and I think I would have to agree.  My entire family was out working to get our yard cleaned up for me.  They helped me dig and plant things just where I wanted and they were so cheerful about it.  It was such a blessing. 

 

This is the life I have always wanted.... We don't have a lot, but always enough. Things aren't always easy, but God is always faithful.  We have endured some storms.... but in those times, we have learned how to dance in the rain.  And best of all, we have gotten closer to each other and to our God as we have allowed Him to grow us through the dark rainy days.

 

The Aubes and the All Good Very Bad Day

We left at 8 am to go to an appointment for three of the kids.  I booked them together so as to only have to make one trip... and it went really well since it was right after breakfast and nobody was cranky yet. 

We weren't far from Rachel, so that also let me get there earlier which was nice.  We pulled up and at the same time I noticed, Desirae said "Hey, there is a path of dandelions leading to Rachel's grave!"  And there really was... it was like a path was cleared through all the flowers just for us to walk over to her and there was a perfect line of bright yellow right up to her stone.

The kids ran over and started yelling to me that someone had left something.  I went over to see and they scattered to run and play.  One of my favorite sounds ever is the sound of them giggling and chasing each other while I visit Rachel's grave....  I stood there looking at the stone that was left, remembering how the "It was then that I carried you" quote applied so much to both how I was blessed to carry Rachel and be carried by God at the same time.  I thought back to the rainbow of her footprints that I made and also how I put that full poem on the back of her funeral program with a picture of her cute little feet and all of a sudden it hit me....  only one set of footprints.... I never got to see her feet grow.  It's not as if I didn't know it, but the thought of never seeing her footprints grow... ever... brought me to tears.  I swear, grief is the most unpredictable thing in the world.

Thank you to whoever left this!

 

I don't often cry there, and if I do, it's not usually hard... this morning I cried - and hard.  Des heard me and came over to hug me.  Isaiah came over and asked "What is it?" with a confused look on his face.  And I have to say, it made me realize that, if my children are confused when they see me cry there, it means they don't view a cemetery as a sad or scary place.... which honestly, makes me feel pretty good as their mother - to know that they understand death, but aren't afraid of it.  That they know the soul is separate from the body and that their sister's is safe in heaven because of Jesus.  That they haven't lost their innocence through this trial.  That even though we have always been completely honest with them about it all and never sheltered them from the truth, they aren't heavy hearted or emotionally scarred.  And in fact, today I realized that they are actually so much stronger and more secure than they ever could have been without watching me walk this road honestly and openly.

 

No sooner did I have those thoughts and I turned to find Samuel with his pants dropped at the line of the woods, peeing on a tree.  I won't lie, we all started cracking up.... my kids aren't the pee outside kind of kids because we live in the city and never go camping - so I guess Matt needs to teach them how to pee outside with a little more modesty! (not that I'm saying they learned this from his example!)  Pants around your ankles, facing the road, in the open isn't it!  But boy, it was funny.  They all ran off laughing and played hide-n-seek for a few while I finished up and wiped my eyes and we left... with Sam saying "That was fun at Rachel's grave" as we drove off..... 

So, the day was going good.... but it was only 9:45.... I decided to stop at Walmart.  I've been needing to for a week and haven't had the energy so I went.  Everything was going fantastic until we got almost to the end of shopping and I realized that it was 11:15 and my prenatal appt was at 11am!  I grabbed the last Mother's Day card I needed and attempted to fly out of there - but this is where it all started.

I picked the SLOWEST cashier EVER.  Who also was really nice and relaxed.  Meaning, she wanted to talk to me about everything I was buying... how cute it was, if I wanted the hangers, and she also liked to bag VERY precisely... and roll her neck a lot  ??  She asked me at one point if I was ok because I looked stressed.  I told her I had forgot my appt and was running really behind... she grabbed the sponges that she was ringing through and started going thru bags ALREADY IN THE CART to find the one that had the dish soap in it because she wanted to bag them together.... I appreciate her thoroughness... but is she serious?!  Just put them in a bag lady....  so, this is when my patience started going....

Then, we get to the van and Sam smashes his head and starts screaming... I called and moved my appt... told them I could be there in 25 minutes... stopped and spent money we don't have on fast food... and was looking like I was going to be able to pull it together... until the dude 5 cars up decided to go 30 in a 45... the entire drive back to town.... 

I got to my new appt 5 minutes late - and realized.... I was supposed to drink that drink for my glucose test!  ergh....  we went in and I told them, not only was I late for my 2nd appt today, but I also forgot to be prepared for it.  I asked if I could leave the kids in the waiting room, which I never do, figuring they would be happier and more content if they could just keep playing out there.  About 5 minutes into my appt, I hear SCREAMING - and more than one person doing it....  I went to get them... Sam started yelling about how he had to poop, Asa was now sitting in poop (and did I have the diaper bag? no, I didn't) and when I brought them into the room with me, Isaiah picked up the model of a vagina and said "So, that's what an ear drum looks like!"  Nope, honey, that's a vagina...
They somehow all managed to leave there after hearing their heartbeats again on the doppler and with their own measuring tape.... and all the people in the place feeling bad for me.  My goal: get home and do naptime and sit on the couch until my eyes stopped hurting. 

I again measured 4 weeks too big and had another large weight gain so she scheduled an ultrasound for next Wed. Please pray I am smart enough to get a sitter for that! haha.... I've never worried about gaining too much weight, and actually I expect it - all my healthy babies brought along some extra weight for me - the only times I didn't gain a lot, I either miscarried, was about to - or later found a serious birth defect that left me skinny, but broken hearted... so I am not one to worry about gaining weight while pregnant, I actually find more comfort in that than the opposite....and my perpective is just much different since Rachel so I hardly care about the vain side of all of this - but I will say that I'm slightly concerned because the numbers don't make sense, I've been in a lot of pain, and I am nervous about early labor. 

Anyway, I had to run to the Post Office and I was so relieved to be almost home after my morning - now much past the baby's nap time... only to be told by a flagger that they had JUST started paving the end of my street and I couldn't go home.  She said I had to give it a half an hour.  Asa was still in poop and screaming... I now had food, including freezer stuff that I bought at Walmart that had been in the hot van for over 2 hours, still sitting there... and I pulled over and just started bawling.  I called Matt and gave him the short version of the above, except in a very pathetic pregnant mama weepy voice, with some sobbing in between.... and then pulled it together, changed the baby (without baby wipes, because why would those be in a diaper bag??) and we went to Wendy's to use the free Frosty cards my friend Michelle gave me last week!  (I knew there was a good reason I forgot them when I wanted them last week)  It was a perfect way to pass the time, everyone was happy (I put on a few more ounces!) and on the way home I appologized to the kids for forgetting my appointment and making our day stressful and Isaiah said "Mama, I hope your day gets better... I've never seen you cry over a bad day before."  I laughed and in my "don't -worry-Mama's-got-this" voice I said "Well guys, even when days are bad, God is still good...."

And now we're home... have I mentioned I love it here?  The only thing better will be when Matt walks through the door in a few minutes and I get to hear my babies all run and scream "Daddddy!!!" and wait to get the last kiss as I greet him at the door and patiently wait for him to hug all the kids first - with my big ol' belly full of baby E and my heart still full of my sweet Rachel.  I do love Fridays.....even hard ones.

A Mother's Pain

5 years ago today, I found out for the first time that being a mother could be the most painful thing in the world.  Up until that day, I never knew it could hurt like that.

But on that day, I was 8 weeks pregnant and I felt something fall from me into the toilet.... I quickly scooped it out and inspected it in a little cup and although I really in my heart of hearts felt like it was my baby still in its sac, since I had no other pain or bleeding up until that point, I convinced myself it was just a blood clot and flushed it down the toilet.

I called the doctor and they scheduled me to come in for an ultrasound a few hours later.  They said just to stay off my feet and drink water....I was probably just dehydrated.  I started to feel some cramping, but it wasn't painful like I had heard miscarriages were.

I went into that ultrasound expecting the worst, hoping for the best.  She did the scan and said nothing.  She pulled out the scope and it was covered in blood.  She still said nothing.  She had me move into a regular room and said nothing.  We waited....

The doctor came in and said "I'm sorry, there was nothing left."  I started crying and she gave me a minute and then interrupted my tears with "I see you're wearing a cross, do you have a religious group you can call for support?"

I nodded and kept crying.  Immediately I knew I had flushed my baby down the toilet.  What kind of mother does that?

I went home that day feeling like life had been stripped from me.  And it had.  I had only known for 4 weeks that I was carrying another child and already I was deeply connected.  God made us mothers that way.... I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat.... I couldn't stop crying.  It was the worst pain I had ever felt in my life.  I remember conversation after conversation as I gave our families and friends the news.... "It must have had something wrong with it".... "At least it happened now"..... "It was just a little zygote"..... "Don't worry, you can have another one"...... "This is why you should wait until 12 weeks to tell anyone".....

And then that weekend.... Mother's Day.  It was the first time I tasted joy and sorrow mingled.  Celebrating my other two children... being a mom... and grieving the loss of a child so freshly.

I had no idea that later on down the road, I would experience anything worse.  I didn't think it possible. 

2 years ago today, we had the grand opening at Rachel's Playground.  I picked the build for her playground to end that day specifically to include Baby Aube #3 - and that year, it also landed on Mother's Day, which I felt would be perfect.  I didn't think it could actually hurt.  But again, I was surprised by the places where pain can move in.  All day I had people telling me what an amazing Mother's Day it must be for me.... what an amazing gift to get on Mother's Day.... how it must remove some of the bitterness to my first Mother's Day without Rachel.

It didn't.  And couldn't.  And only someone who has never buried a child would think it could - or dare I say it... a man.  And I do not say that with ANY negative tone or sarcasm... it is just the way it is, men do not feel it the same way women do.  It's just different for them.  And many of them, even ones who have lost children have no idea the depth of the mother's pain....even if they want to.  I look at her playground and most of the time, I feel like I am looking at a huge sign that says "She is gone."  I want to feel happy.  I want to feel good.  But usually those times come when it's just me, Matt and the kids playing and I know that everyone there knows and remembers that she is gone too.  Otherwise it just tends to hurt - and I have a hard time hiding that so honestly, I hardly ever go out there after church service.  I hate to be the party pooper.

Since Rachel, I have not grieved our 3rd baby like I did before her.  At times I feel guilty about it, but just like I never knew how much it could hurt to miscarry a baby, I was not prepared for how different the pain would be after Rachel and it totally caught me off guard.  More than that, I was not prepared for how long this pain would last.... or for the fact that another baby wouldn't heal that pain at all.

But today, for some reason, my 3rd baby was heavy on my heart again.  And 'ironically' I woke up to a bunch of my tulips in bloom and the 3rd Hyacinth (I forgot I planted for Rachel in the fall) had poked thru the ground.... and then I discovered that a few of my Forget me nots had also bloomed. 

Tonight, I asked Des to pick our hymn and she picked Holy Holy Holy. Without any knowledge of today being the anniversary or that it was the song we had sang together the day before I miscarried.

I'm not sure why God has me in this place today.  I'm not sure why all these memories are flooding back and Rachel's garden seems to be shining for our other baby in heaven instead of her right now.  And I have no idea how to sum up what is on my heart or in my mind, so I guess I'll just leave you with the lyrics to a song that had me in tears as I prepared dinner tonight. 

"Who Am I"

Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart

Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are.

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours

 

Who Am I, that the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love and watch me rise again
Who Am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me

I am Yours
Whom shall I fear
Whom shall I fear
'Cause I am Yours
I am Yours

 

And here's the video if you want to listen to it....

 

In The Garden

Doesn't happen often, but Friday landed on a 3rd.... and it's May, which for some reason is always a bit tough - I think because of Mother's Day and because it was on Mother's Day that we first announced we were expecting again in 2010.  Our 4th little one was on her way.....

I had a really emotional morning on Wednesday - couldn't stop crying... so I decided to go and see if Rachel's tulips were in bloom at her grave - and they were...  But only 2 of them.  The rest just aren't coming up.  I don't get it.  The same thing is happening here - over 100 bulbs in the ground and only 18 have tulips coming up.  Some just have greenery and some just never came up at all.  It looks like the daisies might not come back... and the ones at her playground garden don't seem too happy either.  I'm trying to not get too discouraged, but it is hard since I have planted all these things with her on my heart...some while I was pregnant with her... and I can't seem to keep them alive either.

On Friday, I wanted to bring her something -  but I just couldn't get my thoughts straight enough to figure out what.  So I just went.  Her spot looks pretty right now as it is anyway.  We left and I had to stop and get gas, which left me in the wrong position to get on the highway so I took a different route towards home.  I took another 'wrong' turn and ended up outside of a hardware store in town that was selling soil outside.  My plan was to stop at Walmart on the way home so I could get some soil for my garden and work in it for Rachel's day.... so I stopped, figuring it would be easier than bringing all the kids into Walmart.  I picked out what I wanted in the parking lot and then we went in to pay. The guy noticed my tattoo....

"I love that tattoo, by the way" he said. 

"That's my little girl's hand" I said with a smile.

"Most people do footprints, I like that it is a handprint." he said.

"She died the day she was born, but she had the most amazing hands and these great little dimples across her knuckles so that's why I picked her hand instead - I really loved her hands." I responded.

And when he came out to load the back of the van, I showed him the pic I have on the back of it with her hands in the heart shape....

And then every time I thought of it for the rest of the day, I either cried or really wanted to.

The boys helped me unload the bags when we got home.  They lugged those huge bags out of the van and to the right garden beds so that I wouldn't have to lift.  They are very sweet.  Then they followed me around and helped me spread it out and pull weeds.  I love spending my days with these guys and having them work beside me and to be able to teach them what (little) I know about gardening.   Isaiah and I had a great conversation about how I relate weeds to sin and the importance of tearing it out of your heart before the roots get too deep and harder to remove....since he could feel the difference in some of them as he pulled them out, it was like a light bulb went on and he really got it.  It was a precious time with him.

I worked in the garden all afternoon.  Love that I can.  Wish there was more I could actually do for her. And even more than that... I wish I could have her working beside me in the garden.  I feel her there in a different way.  I know we are forever connected through Jesus Christ and that He meets me there in a special way.... and while I'm so grateful for that and so overwhelmed by His presence and how he reminds me she is still alive....and even MORE alive with Him.... I can't help but wish she was next to me too.  Right here.... watching each of these plants peek through the soil and eventually bloom. Having little talks and watching those cute little hands try to copy what I'm doing.  To wonder at God's creation with her.  I miss her a lot in the garden.

But I know that she is probably thinking something similar.... just waiting to show me what a garden in heaven looks like....  we won't have to weed there.... and I bet all the tulips and daisies are always in bloom.  I can't wait to be with her in the garden.

Completely Unclinched

I keep thinking I should write.... and then I don't know what to say.  I've had all sorts of things I've wanted to share, moments with God.... ups and downs....  but I rarely have the energy to do it.  And I don't mean physical energy, I mean mental and emotional energy.

I thought perhaps I was just moving into a new stage of my grief... you know, that 'easier' part I've heard so much about.... 

I thought that maybe I'm just so overwhelmed with everything going on in my life separate from Rachel (although none of it is EVER truly 'separate from her' to me, but it is to everyone else so I'll go with it) that I just don't have time to focus on her.... and maybe that's good....right?

I thought that maybe it's just me so busy being pregnant for the 7th time and raising 4 energetic children whom I also get the amazing privilege of homeschooling, and so no minute in the day is unclaimed.....

I thought maybe I'm in a horrible depression... after all, this is what 'they' say you need to look out for... not wanting to go anywhere, or do anything... not having energy or desire to do the things outside the house that you have always done.... losing interest in things that 'should be' important to you.... not talking to people about - or writing about - what's on my heart, which for an outward processor like me, is actually usually a really bad thing.....becoming content with surface conversations and unconcerned with peoples' opinions of me.....

I feel like time is flying by....like I'm letting time slip away and not achieving anything.... like I can see a new wrinkle each day in the mirror and my kids are growing in front of my eyes, and even though I am completely and totally here... in my home... in my life... with my family.... dedicated to them and God alone....in His Word more....not preoccupied for the first time in for as long as I can remember as the good over-achiever I am.....I don't answer the phone (ever, literally) and I use the computer about 1/10 of the time I used to.....I still feel like I can't slow it all down and I'm missing them grow.  (losing the last 3 years of photos when my computer crashed last night doesn't help that feeling at all!)

But mostly, I just feel confused.  And I realize as I write this and the song "I will carry you" plays in the background, bringing tears to my eyes, that it's still not easier....  I realize that this numbness doesn't need to be explained... and even if it was, it wouldn't be explained away.  Because it is what it is. 

And the truth is that for even as much as I have slowed down with the ways in which I busied myself before....  I have just gotten better at not going 'there'.... because 'there' still hurts like hell and sometimes I just don't have it in me.  Sometimes I just don't want to feel my way through it.  And sometimes.... sometimes I just still feel that unexplainable peace from God as I still still in 'it'.... knowing I am the odd man out in my little place on earth, knowing that this journey has held much more pain than just that associated with Rachel's death - the disappointment, betrayal, loss after loss....loneliness, abandonment, judgement....silence, fear, alienation.....and it's okay. It really is.

Sometimes I just wish 'they' were right and that moving into the 'stage of acceptance' (which by the way I did in September 2010 while I was still pregnant with her, but don't try to tell the grief specialist - or grief layman - that because they know too much to believe that could be possible since it's clearly out of the correct text book order) would mean that I now just lived within my 'new normal' and this just became part of who I am and the tears no longer had a reason to fall because I was finally 'accepting' the fact that I couldn't escape her death.  I finally stopped fighting it and now I would just be okay with her being gone. I finally just learned to forgive and forget.....  and I finally could call my grieving 'done' and just continue on with my life, preferably from where I left off almost 3 years ago.  And who knows, maybe that is the difference between losing a child and other losses and maybe those text book answers really do apply to other people.  Maybe it's just me or my kind....

sigh.

What the heck am I trying to say?  I don't know... see, that's my point.... I start thinking or writing and I feel like I'm making sense but I never get anywhere and I'm just not used to that.  I have no 'clincher' to this post. I like to have clinchers.  Good writers always have clinchers.  that's how I come up with my title... How do I title this if I don't have a clincher and don't even know what my point is?  And why write without a point?

But I guess it wouldn't be unlike me to be over thinking it - because the truth is that I have had this unbelievable contentment with things just the way they are - undecided, undone, unplanned...unclinched. (if that's a word?)

I went out to plant the flowers I bought for Rachel for Easter in my garden and decided to sit with a book in the sun instead.  And I didn't feel bad.  My Rachel tulips look like they have been mangled under the ground, not growing well at all, and it's not breaking my heart. (yet)  I've missed a few different weeks of visits with Rachel and I didn't feel like I let her down.  (although the thought of missing the blooms on her tulips there is weighing on me...they were close to blooming on Friday...but not bothering me enough for me to drive down there, I guess)  I have her entire nonprofit up in the air... the board members, the tasks at hand, the future plans for ministry.... and I just do nothing.

And I know some people think this is improvement... like I'm finally stepping into a better place and letting go of my need to 'do'.  I'm not convinced.  I feel like I don't know me... like this just isn't me.  None of this is anything like me, even before Rachel.  And I don't know for sure if that is even what God wants from me.  And honestly, I'm a little worried that I will awake from this numbness one day and regret my complacency and how it is undoubtedly going to do nothing more but leave me more alone in this - and make it harder to do the things I have worked so hard to do for her and for God's glory.  And yet I don't care to do anything about it.

Is that good?  Bad?  I don't know and strangely, right now, I don't care.  I'm just hoping He has a purpose in it and that even though I don't know how to conclude the wide range of emotions and thoughts I have,  that even though I feel completely unclinched, that He will never let me drift so far off the story line that He can't bring it all back around to one amazing clincher. 

So, as I let all the things I have no idea what to do about sit and slip away, I will sit in the sun with an iced coffee, a good book and my amazing children every day because I can. I will enjoy each moment I get with them here.  I will care for my home, my husband, my children with great humility and thanksgiving, believing that my sometimes thankless and most often glamorless role as the maker of this home was designed by the Maker of this Universe and is the most beautiful gift I have ever been given next to my salvation in Jesus Christ. 

And at the end of every day...whether I have cried or not... whether I have gone 'there' or not... whether I feel like I accomplished something or not... I will crawl into bed and curl up with a pretty pink and green blanket that held one of the most precious little girls to ever be and I will thank Him for her.  All of it.  The beginning, the middle, and the end... knowing that through her, He changed me.  That because of her, I am different - better.  That in Him, I am with her and she with me.  And that in the end.... well, we're gonna dance, me & her - except it won't be the end, it will be just the beginning - the first day of forever. 

Who doesn't love that kind of clincher? 

2013 Mother's Day Cards

I only made a couple designs this time around, but tried to use language that would cover more bases - and for the people who requested I make some that say "child" instead of just "baby". 

I hope to do more next year, but this was what I could muster up with my energy level.... but I think they came out really nice.  And as usual, they are even more beautiful in person.... just like my girl.

Rachel Alice Aube & Restoring Aching Arms presents.... our 2013 Mother's Day Cards - in memory of my girl and for all my beautiful friends who I have met along the painful, yet amazing, journey of baby loss. 

As mother's day approaches, I want you to know that your babies and children are not - and will never be - forgotten.  Ever.

2013 Mother's Day Cards

Page 43

Last night, before bedtime, Desirae came down with the book she was reading.  I heard Matt tell her to go back upstairs and I heard her giggle... "I need to read something to Mama." she requested.

She came out in the kitchen and gave me the background of the story...  There was a ship that was caught in a storm and just before it crashed into the rocks, the mother threw her little girl overboard, wrapped in a blanket, into a small boat to people who were trying to save them all.  Another huge wave came and destroyed the boat in front of them and everyone died except the little girl, who was now with them and they decided to keep.  She was a cute little 2 year old with "light brown hair, rosey cheeks and the bluest of blue eyes."

Des began reading me the story and was pausing to giggle as she read each line that the little girl spoke.  She just kept saying how cute she was.  Her excitement and smile alone had me smiling, but every time she giggled, I would too.  She's always had a contagious laugh.

She skipped many of the words, mostly wanting to read me the words of the little girl. The book has her words written in 'little girl language' and she was reading in a little girl voice.

I want to share part with you..... It's from "Saved at Sea" by O.F. Walton

"Oh! How she ran and jumped and played in the garden.  I never saw such a merry little thing, picking up stones, gathering daisies ("day-days" she called them), running down the path and calling me to catch her.  She was never still for an instant!

But every now and then, as I was playing with her, I looked across the sea to Ainslie Crag.  The seas had not gone down much, though the wind had ceased, and I saw the waves still clashing wildly upon the rocks.  And I thought of what lay beneath them, of the shattered ship, and of the child's mother.  "Oh! if she only knew, " I thought, as I listened to her merry laugh which made me more ready to cry than her tears had done."
 

I asked, but honestly, I already knew the answer....I sensed it in every word.... 

"Des, what page is that on?"

She looked down and her eyes got HUGE and she burst out in laughter as she said "Page 43!!"

 

Should I be surprised that there, buried in this amazing story, is a 2 year old girl playing in a garden and picking daisies.... on page 43?  At this point, no, it doesn't really surprise me - but it does leave me in awe.

And when I went to look today so that I could share this with you, I saw that, not only is it on page 43, but it's ALL that is on that page.  Every time I read it again, I cry.  I'm not trying to change the meaning out of this awesome classic story, but when I read this I honestly feel like God is speaking to me.  I feel His gentle reassurance that she is happy.  She was welcomed into her new home.  That her laugh is amazing.  That she loves daisies and plays in gardens.  That she is well taken care of. 

I feel His reminder that I'm not forgotten - that the reality of my storm, although in the distance for them and leaving them untouched, is not completely out of their view, it just doesn't hurt them. And can't.  She is safe. The wind ceasing, but the waves still crashing, and I still beneath the shattered ship seems to describe my place right now on this journey perfectly. 

And then the last part... "Oh! if she only knew."  I have often wished Rachel knew all I do for her and how I miss her.  And this line just leaves me thanking God that she is oblivious to my pain.... that maybe she does know of me there and I think maybe even remember my love for her.... but the storm, the shipwreck, the aftermath, the loss.....  She's unaware, happily jumping through a garden.... giggling.... "never sitting still for a minute, " just as I imagined her at the age of 2....

I flipped the book over to see what the back says... how did I buy this without ever noticing this plot? 

It reads:

"As the storm disappears on the horizon, the little mystery girl touches the hearts of some very lonely peeople.  Another stranger arrives on the island and Alick finds out that there is a rock that you can depend on in life, whatever the storms throw at you.  Jesus Christ will always be there - an anchor, a fortress, stronger than a lighthouse on the rocks, stronger even than death!"
 

And again, this little girl, saved from death, reminds me of my sweet Rachel.... touching hearts, bringing light to dark days, and pointing so many to Hope in Jesus.  And I am reminded that He is stronger than death!

Matt & I have been talking about the fact that there is a chance that Rachel could have only lived 42 minutes... or that if they had listened for her heart again at 44 minutes, instead of 43, they would have called it 44 minutes.  We go by 43 because that is what the doctor told us  - but are they accurate?  Who knows.... but God was in every single detail. 

I'm amazed daily at how He shows me this truth.  Things will happen, I look at the clock at just the right time, I see a flower bloom on a special day, the grass at her grave grows in the shape of a heart...another 43 shows up... a rainbow appears at unbelievable times....there have been so many things.... I could never list them all.  These little "Godwinks" as my friend Melissa calls them have been everywhere since He took my baby girl home, always bringing me both comfort and tears.  And always reminding me He is here with me since her death....

But something like this, that had to be put together over 8 years before I was even pregnant with her leaves me with this unbelievable sense of security that God has it all planned out...every part of my life...every detail.  Humbled that He cares that much for me to speak to me in this way.  Amazed at how He brings details together that we could not make happen if we tried, no matter how we planned.  I marvel at the thought of Him waiting to catch her as I sent her into His safe keeping during the most overwhelming storm I have ever experienced... the storm of death.... I am thankful for how He helped me to be so unselfish for her sake. .And once again, I am so full of Hope for that glorious day when I will see her again.  I rejoice in my sure salvation through Jesus Christ that grants me that promise true.