We had a great Christmas. Not at all what we had pictured a year ago, but our time with each other and with family was sweet. Now, if only I could sleep for about 3 days straight to catch up!

God continues to stretch my faith, all the while reminding me so evidently that He is faithful. He always has been, always will be. He is Emmanuel, God with us, even in our darkness.

For Christmas, my little sister gave me a wall hanging with Isaiah 42:16 on it:

“I will guide you.

I will turn darkness into light before you

and make the rough places smooth.”

I have been challenged over the past couple of days as that verse circulates my mind to believe that…really believe it. And to trust God for the seemingly impossible. He keeps reminding me that nothing is too big for Him. He continues to bring “darkness into light” and “make the rough places smooth.” Thank You, Lord!

I just ordered a glass basketball ornament with Zachary’s name written across the front…I’ll post a picture when it arrives.

We’re off to our final (Hallelujah!) Christmas celebration. :-)

By the way, I'm so thankful we serve a God Who is not limited to Christmas lights and carols...a God Who chose to give us His Son as a baby in a manger so He could empathize with us fully in our struggles. And, I'm so thankful that the manger was only the beginning of the story - that it just points us to the cross where death was conquered and the power of new life is offered!

"I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is like the working of his mighty strength, which he exerted in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every title that can be given, not only in the present age but also in the one to come." Ephesians 1:18-21

Last night Shaun and I stayed up thinking of a special way to remember our boy this Christmas. We thought of all of the dreams we had for Zachary, and one that stood out in both of our minds was the dream of watching him play basketball someday. Being raised by basketball coaches, both Shaun and I grew up as total gym rats, and now we share a love for the game. Shaun tells me often that he mourns not carrying Zachary around while he's coaching a practice...or when he looks up in the bleachers during a basketball game and sees me sitting alone, without our son.

So, tomorrow my goal is to find an basketball ornament...just a little way of incorporating our baby into our lives this Christmas.

I believe that you can only experience joy to the depth to which you have experienced pain. In some odd way, they go together. And this past week, I have experienced more peace and contentment, and even joy than I have in a long, long time.

For weeks…months…I have been trying to live in the naïve innocence I used to enjoy…a false idea that bad things only happened to other people…that all women deliver healthy babies at 9 months…that for some reason, I was exempt. I have been finding myself so frustrated by the tension of what I know is reality…that I am in no way exempt from the tragedies of life…and that longing for life to be how it was.

But this week has been a bit of a gentle shove from the Lord. It’s as if He’s saying, “Your life is different now, so live differently.”

And this week I have finally had the energy and emotional wherewithal to invest…really invest in others. I’ve had multiple opportunities to use my loss to help those struggling through this thing called grief, some of whom are just a few steps behind me on this journey, and some of whom I will never even meet.

Right now I have the privilege through a friend who works as an RN at the hospital where we delivered to help strengthen those things that were done with excellence and improve those things that could make the process for a grieving mother just a little bit more bearable.

God gave me this awesome word picture of my tears watering the desert ground for those walking just a few steps behind me in their loss.

You can only experience joy to the depth to which you experience pain. And if you choose to try to stifle the pain in life, you will find yourself trapped in a very small, limited cage of emotion. Sure, you can avoid your pain to a certain extent, but it limits your joy…life becomes so mundane.

I have a friend who says, “You can grieve good and you can grieve bad.” I know that I have “grieved good” because that joy…that joy that used to characterize my life before loss…that joy that I’ve so missed…is finally starting to bubble up in my heart on an ongoing basis once again. It doesn’t mean I don’t have bad moments…and days, but what a breath of fresh air!

My goal this week is to think of something small to honor Zachary this Christmas…something that would be meaningful to Shaun and I…

PS – Thanks for praying us through another “17^th”.

PPS – Spring is coming!

7 Months

My Zachary Boy,

How has it been so long since we've had you with us? You would be seven months old today...at such a fun stage in life. It's hard to think about all that your dad and I are missing without you here. But I can say with confidence that you are not missing anything...heaven has provided you with a fullness of life we cannot even begin to imagine. However, not a day, and rarely a moment goes by that I do not think about you and miss you terribly.

I bet Christmas in heaven is awesome! Thousands of angels singing the "Hallelujah" chorus would certainly beat Brenda White's rendition of "Christmas In The Northwest" that seems to play on every radio station right now. :-) I can't wait to celebrate together someday.

Your dad and I miss you and love you so much. Your short life continues to change, not only our lives, but the lives of so many other people, some of whom we have never even met. We love you, son, and we're so proud to be your mom and dad. What a precious gift you are to us!

Mom

In the past two weeks I have been so saddened by the brokenness of our world.

I've never seen so many men and women begging on street corners.

Violence so rampant that even police officers are being senselessly gunned down.

Unemployment or underemployment affecting one family after another.

And tragedy seemingly surrounding us on every side.

And yet there is hope.

"But in my mind's eye I can see a place

Where Your glory fills every empty space

All the cancer is gone, every mouth is fed

And there's no one left in the orphan's bed

Every lonely heart finds their one true love

And there's no more goodbye

And no more not enough

And there's...

no more enemy."

(Steven Curtis Chapman, Heaven Is The Face)

"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." Romans 5:1-5

I've noticed a few changes in my ability to function since Zachary died...they have been quite puzzling to me, especially in the past month. I kind of shrugged it all off at first because I was in "survival mode." But, now, it's been almost seven months since we said goodbye to our boy, and I'm still struggling with things I've never struggled with before.

First of all, I've always been a "people person," but lately, I get really anxious in a group of more than...oh...four people, even if I know everyone really well. Sometimes, I walk through a door into a crowded room and scope out a quiet corner (or even the bathroom) where I can escape if needed.

Second, I'm always expecting the phone to ring with bad news...it's like I'm just waiting for the next tragic thing to happen. Now, I've never been the most optimistic person (my parents could attest to that...okay, and Shaun, too), but I've always been excited about the future. Now I'm a chronic worrier...ugh.

And, third, I become irate over the most ridiculous things...the car in front of me that drives too slow, a piece of dirty laundry on the bathroom floor...really, anything these days! I've never been so agitated in my life.

So, what's a grieving mama to do? Well, they (counselors, doctors, etc) tell me that it's good, ol' PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). Super. Probably right, but that makes me feel like...a nut case.

But, I had my "issues" explained to me in a much softer light this past week...a light that made me feel a bit less like a crazy person (or, at least it wasn't an abbreviated medical term).

Life is now about strengthening those areas in which I have been changed for the better through loss and working through those areas that are dysfunctional because of it. How simple sounding is that?! I feel like that's do-able.

So, as we go into the season of one Christmas party after another, with plenty of crowds and stressors, that's what I'm determining to do - to set myself up for success by recognizing when I need to be alone and quiet and setting boundaries. Strengthen the good, work through the not-so-good.

If you're feeling a bit dysfunctional in the stage of life you're in, look at your situation honestly and make that your goal. And, be encouraged...you're certainly not the only crazy person in town! :-)