"I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE!" (#2)

Ever since I heard the news Sunday night that three teens in our area had passed away as the result of an automobile accident, I've had the same thought running through my mind:  "I don't want to be here!"  This is what I said over and over as we sat at the funeral home in 2001, planning the funeral for our little boy who was stillborn.  "I don't want to be here!"  And they don't want to be there, either.

None of the families that are having to plan funerals for their teenage sons want to be where they are right now.  None of them want to be in this situation and would give anything to have just one more hug, one more day, one more....anything.  It's a horrible thing they are going through, yet there they are - doing what no parent wants to do.

My heart aches for them.  Many hearts do, whether they know the families or not.  And those who do know them ache even worse.

Sunday morning I was out of town visiting our two college kids, along with the next oldest child.  The sermon that morning had to do with how to help the grieving. It was a wonderful lesson with many great thoughts and lessons from God's Word, but one particular point made me think:  "Helping Begins With Hearing."  We can all pray for the grieving families and that helps them tremendously, but the only way to physically help those grieving families is to hear them.  At this point in their grieving, nothing you can say to them can help them, though there are many things you can say to them that can hurt them.  They need prayers.  They need hugs.  They need a shoulder to cry on.  But they don't need your words of wisdom.  They need you to listen, if they need to talk.  HELPING BEGINS WITH HEARING.  That's a powerful statement.

"I don't want to be here!"  Hear that.  You don't have to say anything in response to that statement.  Just listen.

 “The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.” Psalm 18:2

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4

 “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18

Road Kill

Driving on the highway a few days ago, I noticed lots of road kill scattered along the way, with vultures and buzzards flying around and landing to eat their findings.  In our area, those birds are what we see eating the decaying animal flesh, but at night other carnivores come out to devour the remains.

Road kill makes me sick to see.  I can't look at it!  I just have to look away or straight ahead to keep my eyes off of the gruesome sight!  And thinking about those vultures and buzzards eating it is sickening, too! I would have put a picture of road kill on this post, but....... YUCK!!

Spiritually speaking, if you aren't growing, you're dead.  You're road kill, in a sense!  Anything that isn't growing is in the process of dying.

If you aren't changing for the better, you're not in the process of being transformed into the image of Christ.  If you can't look back at your life last year, the year before, five or ten years ago, and see that you're a better human being, then you aren't growing IN Christ.  Becoming a Christian is the first step in the process (which may have begun even before then as you learned about Him), but continuing to grow in that relationship is allowing the Holy Spirit to work within you.  That means putting away the selfish and fleshly desires you once had, exchanging them for fruits of the Spirit.  Good fruits that change us for the better, change us into being more Christ-like.

You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh[a]; rather, serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.

So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh. They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever[c] you want. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law.

The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,  gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Galatians 5:13-25

Are you growing?  Are you changing?  Or are you road kill, waiting to be devoured?  Think of Satan as being the carnivore.  If you allow him the opportunity, he will devour you.  Get moving! Get to growing!  And never, ever stop!

Brokenhearted

It's heartbreaking to hear of the tragic loss of life.  Life can change in the blink of an eye and what you had is gone.  It's a reality that many have experienced and one that no one wants to experience.

My thoughts and prayers go out to family members and friends who have lost a loved one.  God can strengthen and comfort in ways that we can't fathom, but that we cling to during times of pain and sorrow.  He is always there.  He is near.  Thank you, God.

The Chronicles of Biscuit - A Very Sad Day

The Chronicles of Biscuit:  Stories about our youngest son, Tyler, whose nickname is Biscuit.  But this time I'm telling it about him as Tyler :).

If you read my post last week about my friend, Tonya, you know that it has been a tough few days for our small town.  This morning is Tonya's funeral.  We dismissed school for the funeral, because most everyone from school will be attending the service.

Last Thursday night I got a Facebook message about Biscuit.....Tyler, our youngest son.  It was the sweetest message we could have gotten from one of his teachers about the very sad day:

Just so you know, your sweet son let the 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade classes in prayer today on the playground. It was touching and heartfelt and very much needed when we, the teachers, were at a loss of words to help comfort our students. I comment MaKenna (our niece, Tyler's cousin) for organizing the prayer circle and for Tyler leading it. I was proud to be a part of it.

I got some other messages from this teacher saying he checked on her after school and the next morning to see if she was okay, and his homeroom teacher when he took a jar of money he had collected from us that was going to be given to Tonya's family.

Tyler knew how sad his teachers and friends were at school.  He knew how sad I was, and has given me even more hugs and "I love you's" since last Thursday morning.

God knew how special little children were.  That's why He tells us to be as little children.  Sometimes we worry about how little children might handle something and want to shield them from the sad things, but just like in this sadness, the children comforted the adults.

Children are special, and yes, our Tyler (Biscuit) is special.  He's always had a tender heart and a deep thinker, but also has a special gift of connecting with others - especially adults.

On Friday, our church family fed the junior high, high school, and faculty of our school.  Tonya's children came to school that day.  They wanted to.  They needed to.  As her two oldest came through the line, I told them I loved them.  When the only daughter came through and I said that, she said, "I'm so glad you got to see her that night."  She meant the night before she died, when I had gone out to their house.  I said, "Me, too."  We smiled at each other, but my heart inside was breaking for that sweet little girl who would miss her sweet momma.

Children are a gift from God.  Let's not ever forget that.  In fact, let's strive to be more like little children ourselves. 

People were also bringing babies to Jesus for him to place his hands on them. When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them. But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Luke 18:15-17

Bad Hair Days

I remember my friend calling me many times, but a few times when she called she would say, "Lori, I read through Facebook and see all of these people complaining about their hair and other things.  They're having a bad hair day or they don't like their haircut.  These people need to quit complaining and realize their blessings!"  I would agree with her and we'd go on to something else......mostly talking about faith, the Bible, our kids, school events, and Disney World.  

And we would talk about something else.  We would talk about her cancer treatments and about her hair falling out or coming back in, or even her wigs that she frequently gave 'haircuts' :).  What a blessing having a friend who was so optimistic in her trials!  What a blessing to have a friend who proudly proclaimed to all who knew her that she still had faith in God and His promises.  

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. James 1:2-3

Yes, Tonya believed that God could heal her - even up until the moment she passed away this morning.  Her mother told me just last night that Tonya still talked about her faith.  She knew God could heal her if it was His Will.  She also knew that it might not be His Will.

Tonya was a blessing to all who knew her.  She was a wonderful wife and mother.  She leaves behind four young children in grades 3, 5, 7, and 9.  Her death has affected our whole small town and the school students and faculty.  We'll all miss her tremendously.

The last time I talked to Tonya she was heading to MD Anderson the next day.  She said then that she was thankful she had been able to help so many people who were taking cancer treatments and going through what she was. What an inspiration she was to others!!! She was to me. 

Last night I went to Tonya's house.  She was asleep, but sitting up on the couch.  Her mom and I talked, the oldest son was near her.  The other kids helped me carry in food.  The youngest boy tried to wake Tonya up to talk to me.  He would poke her on her shoulder and say, "Mama, mama, wake up!"  I told him not to worry about it, that when she woke up, to tell her I loved her and was praying for her.  It was sweet what he did a little later....still wanting her to wake up.  He rubbed her head and said "Wake up!"  It made me smile, seeing her short dark, curly hair that had grown in recently and thinking about those "bad hair day Facebook complaining" phone calls.  Oh, how I'll miss those phone calls and conversations about spiritual life! 

Tonya learned something very important during her battle with cancer. I remember when she called me and said she had cancer almost five years ago. She said then that she believed before that she was a "good" person....she believed in God and believed in Jesus, but she said that before the cancer, she hadn't fully dedicated herself to God and she believed that was why she was 'given' this trial - to proclaim the message of Him. Her faith grew stronger and stronger throughout her struggle.  In fact, she never considered it a struggle at all.

My sweet friend spent the rest of her days praising God, telling of Jesus, and encouraging others to do the same - to not believe that just being good is what God wants. She knew that God wanted her to live out her faith for others to see. Her faith never wavered, even when she began to have pain.  She read the Bible....studied the Bible....shared scriptures and inspiring messages on Facebook.  She worshipped with her church family when she felt good enough to be there and got her family to do so, as well.  She was an inspiration to all who knew her and to those who just heard about her. 

I pray that Tonya's message will not be forgotten.

When you have a bad hair day, a 'bad' day in general, or a trial come up in your life, think about my friend Tonya.  She never complained.....never felt sorry for herself.  She was always thankful for all of her blessings and was positive each and every day.  Let's all strive to be more like Tonya.  The world needs more people like her.  And after all, is a bad hair day really that bad?  No, not at all.

The last Facebook message Tonya posted herself, she ended with this message:  GOD IS GOOD.  She believed that.  So do I.  I pray that you believe that, too.

Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10

Charlie's Memorial Service

Last week I wrote a post about changes.....and how I didn't like them.  One of the anticipated changes was about my father-in-law, and how we had been told that he wasn't going to live very long.  That was true.  Charlie passed away on Thursday, June 14 - just a few days after I wrote that post.

(This photo is the grandkids and their spouses singing "There's a Stirring" during the service)

Charlie made the best cinnamon rolls and "hot" rolls (the family called them "hot" even when they were cold :) and that is what he was especially known for, but he was also known for all of his other gifts, talents and jobs - preaching, teaching math at school, butcher at the local grocery store, and Walmart greeter.  The one thing Charlie could not do is sing on tune!  In a family where everyone else could - and could do it well, this was a little un-ordinary, but as God would want it - Charlie sang anyway.  He enjoyed music with the rest of us.

(My mother-in-law with all six children.)

Life will be different now, for sure.  Charlie will be greatly missed, but we're thankful for him suffering no more.  We are thankful that he obeyed the gospel long ago and that he lived a faithful Christian life so that in his new life he is in the presence of God and Jesus.  No more cancer.  No more complications from a stroke.  No more pneumonia.  And, he can sing on tune! :)

(My mother-in-law with all six children and their spouses....except one who had to be gone.)

I couldn't believe it, but at Charlie's service, I actually had the feeling that I didn't want it to be over!  Sons, grandsons, and sons-in-law led singing, made comments, and read scriptures and it reminded me so much of the Wednesday night singing we have the day before Thanksgiving each year - I wanted it to keep going.  I don't believe I've ever thought that about a memorial service before. Thankfully, we have a recording of the service, so I can listen to it when I want to.  Precious memories, for sure!

(Grandkids & spouses, and three great-grandkids.)

I mentioned just a few things my father-in-law did, but my husband's uncle listed them all on a Facebook status.  Here it is:

Charlie, friend, soldier, husband, butcher, Sentinel Religious Bookstore-salesman, shipper, printer, manager- father, Tipton Home house parent, school teacher, preacher, Walmart greeter, friend to everyone, best hot roll baker, father, christian example and brother-in-law. Charlie is greeting everyone in Heaven today. God bless the family.

(Extended family members' picture.)

We would like to thank everyone for the food, cards, flowers, memorials, visits, and especially the prayers during Charlie's illness and his passing. Thank you so much for everything.  Continue to pray for Sharon during this time.

 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil...

Psalm 23:4 

Changes and Heart Pain

I've never been a fan of change.  In fact, I don't like change much at all.  But, as we all know, change is inevitable and we must learn to live with it - whether we like it or not.

The first "change" I ever remember not liking was at my maternal grandparents' house.  It seemed like every time I would visit them, my grandma had changed her den furniture around.  She enjoyed the change.  I didn't.  I wanted things just like they were.  I'm still that way.  It's really hard for me to change most things.  I guess it's a good for a marriage because I'm not the type of wife that is always looking to change and redo things in the house or even my wardrobe.  My husband should be thankful! :)

Yes, sometimes changes in life are tough.  Sometimes they make your heart hurt.

In the past week, there have been several changes that have been hard.  To start off, our oldest child (daughter) was selected to attend Washington Leadership Conference in Washington, D.C.  It was an FFA trip and she was dropped off eight days ago to travel by bus with hundreds of other Oklahoma FFA members, as well as members from other states.  I was so excited for her to have this great opportunity, but as I dropped her off and drove off, my heart hurt.  I cried at the thought of her going so far away, but that didn't last too long because I was really glad she was able to go.  But my mind drifted to what will be happening in the near future - she'll be a Senior in high school and in a little more than a year, she'll go away to college.  My heart will hurt again.....but again I'll be excited for her new opportunities.  I'm sure I'll have a hard time at that time, but the three boys will keep me busy with my "mom" job and we'll have different kinds of special times with our daughter.

The next heart pain came with news that my parents had sold their house and bought a house and were moving almost four hours away from me, but to where my sister and her husband and children live.  I've been in close proximity to my parents all but 18 months in my life. I left home after one year of college (where I drove to and lived at home) and got married.  My husband and I moved to southwest Kansas for a year and a half and I felt like I had gone to a foreign country!  I hadn't ever been away from my family before and I didn't like it.  He didn't either.  We both wanted to be back closer to our hometowns and soon were able to move to his hometown - where we've been ever since.  My parents moved to another town, but were then only 20 miles away instead of 30,  from our small town.  Now, after having them close for 22 and a half years, they'll be far.  We didn't get to see them a lot, anyway, and now those times may be even fewer.  It's tough.  It's a change I don't like.  It's a change that makes my heart hurt.

And lastly, but the worst change in our lives that is causing heart pain is that my father-in-law is in the last days of life on this earth.  After battling cancer for years, he was continuing treatments, but three weeks ago he had a stroke.  Due to complications from the stroke (couldn't swallow, developed pneumonia, etc.) his health began to deteriorate rapidly about a week ago.  A few days ago the doctor let us know that nothing else could be done to restore his health as far as the medical side goes.  Of course, we believe in prayer and know that God could restore my father-in-law's health, but we also realize that this does not seem to be in His plan.

When I think of these changes, I realize that many who read this will have gone through them and survived.  I know that, with God's help, I will get through it, as well.  I may not like it, but I'll get through it.  On this Gratituesday, I am grateful for God's plans and His ways.  They may not always be what I wanted or how I wanted, but they are His....and I can know that He is in control.

With my daughter, she got home today and had a wonderful trip!  We missed her so much, but are also very thankful she had a great time during this amazing opportunity.  She's growing up, and I get excited about her future.  The future (the far out future!) in regards to her and our boys will give me a son-in-law and daughters-in-law....and then grandchildren.  I get excited about that.

With my parents moving far away,  there is bright side.  When they do come to visit they'll be actually staying all night in our home.  Maybe it will actually end up being more time together, instead of short little visits or attendance at some school or sports events.  My children are excited about them staying in our home!  And, we'll get to stay in their home, too.  Most of the time, since my sister's family would stay at my parents when they came to visit, we would just visit, but then come back to our own beds so they wouldn't be crowded.

Death is a change like no other.  It can cause the most heart pain of all.  However, because of my father-in-law's faith, hope, and trust as a child of God, we know that death in the earthly body means nothing.  We know that the soul will live forever and that some day we will join him and see him again when we all get to Heaven.  There is no greater joy than knowing that your loved one will spend eternity with the Heavenly Father.  I can't imagine realizing that a loved one would be lost forever and be spending eternity in the torment of Hell.  That would be a heart pain that would be extremely hard to get over.

So, may I ask you to please pray for me and pray for my family and extended family?  I would appreciate it very much.  I'll eventually get used to the changes, and God will help comfort with the heart pain, I know.  Life will continue on and memories of what used to be with be precious.  Thank you, God, for your plans.....even when they are different from my wants.

Join us for GRATITUESDAY at Heavenly Homemakers!

Rock a Bye Baby

In late June, I became a great aunt for the very first time. It's so exciting!  Just holding little Levi and having him as a new addition to our family is such a blessing.  It's made me want to have my own children small again ...just so I could rock them and watch them sleep.  Such fun and sweet memories.  Sadly, they're growing up way too quickly.  Oh well,  I can look forward to rocking my grandchildren!

Sunday night I got to hold a little baby during our evening worship service.  Lane is one of the quads I mentioned in this post five months ago.  They live in Kansas,  but were in Tipton for a visit and everyone was so excited about them being there. Three other ladies also held babies during the lesson, plus there were a few of our own.  Hearing the babies jabbering all around the auditorium was so sweet!  (On a side note, when the four babies were brought in to the foyer in their car seats, our youngest, Tyler said, "Mom, can we buy one?".  He really wants a baby!)

Note from Lori: The following is from the archives of "Shine Like Stars".  I first posted it one year ago, on August 3, 2009.  It's about our son, Caleb, who was stillborn.  I am reposting this because it might help someone who has lost a child.

Eleven years ago, our daughter started to Kindergarten. Her P.E. teacher was expecting a baby, but about five months she went into preterm labor. The little girl was born alive, but passed away a few hours later. I thought to myself, "That would be the hardest thing to go through".

That next summer, my sister had her first child, a little boy. While we were at the hospital visiting, there was a huge family out in the waiting room. Many of the family members were crying. We found out that the full term baby they were waiting on had died. Their family member was delivering a baby that wasn't alive. I thought to myself, "That would be the hardest thing to go through."

A few years later, in the spring of 2001, a friend told me of a family with four children who lived in West Texas. One of their children was swimming in a neighborhood pool and accidentally drowned. She had heard from a friend of hers about the little boy's funeral. Those in attendance were given helium-filled balloons that were released at the end of the memorial service. My friend, who had a little brother pass away when she was little, always remembered blue carnations from his funeral. She talked about how that visual memory was still so vivid in her mind. We both talked about children and death and how that would be "the hardest thing" as a parent, but how it might help in the grieving process to make the service "personalized" in some way. I really liked the balloon idea and told her so.

At that time, we had three living children, ages 7, 5, and 3, and we were expecting the fourth child - due December 12, 2001. The same doctor had delivered the first three children, but he had "retired" from delivering at that time, so I had to change to a new one. The new doctor was nice, but not as personal. He had a more military-style demeanor that I wasn't really used to, but he seemed very thorough. At one appointment, the nurse took some blood and later mentioned that it was some kind of test for abnormalities. I had never done any of those kinds of tests before. I never wanted to because I knew I wouldn't do anything if something happened to be wrong with one of our babies. Healthy or unhealthy, disabled or not - it wouldn't matter to us. But, the test was done and I didn't realize what was being done until afterwards. I thought, "Oh, well. It won't matter. It's just a test."

We went out of town on a business trip vacation for a week, but when we arrived back home, I had a message from the doctor. They needed me to call for an appointment. I did and was told that the alpha fetal protein level was higher than normal and I needed to go in for more testing. I was transferred to a doctor who specialized in problem pregnancies and was to see her the next day.

The morning before that appointment, I sat down to pray and read the Bible. I randomly opened it to a passage. I'm not sure which book (it could have been one of four) in the Old Testament I turned to, but I know that the first thing I saw was the name, "Caleb". We weren't sure if we were having a boy or a girl, but we knew if it was a boy, the middle name would for sure be "Trent". We had been thinking of Caleb for the first name.

Joe and I went to the appointment and Dr. "L" did some tests. During that appointment, because of the longer ultrasound needed to check for problems, we went ahead found out that we were having a little boy. We were excited! Our family would be one girl, then three boys. (Our daughter cried. She was wanting a sister!) Everything seemed fine to Dr. "L", but she told us that with the AFP level being abnormal, the chances of the baby being born with some sort of defect was almost certain. We were concerned, of course, but knew everything would be okay, even if our baby had a disability. We were prayerful that everything would be okay. The next appointment was scheduled for a month later, on August 2.

On the Sunday evening of July 28, our young adult group from church had a devotional. At the end of the devotional, a special prayer was said for us, for our baby, and for his health. That was such a special time being with Christian friends and knowing they were praying about our precious little one and for God to strengthen us for what we were going to be facing in the next few months.

All summer long I had been craving BLT sandwiches. It was a strange craving to me! Different from the watermelon (#1), milk shakes/ice cream (#2), and Chinese food (#3) that were cravings the first three times! At 20 1/2 weeks, I had gained a lot more weight with this pregnancy that I had with any of the other three. I also didn't feel quite as good, but thought that was more because of the extra weight and the fact that I was older.

The week of that appointment the kids and I went to Edmond, OK, to stay with my husband's brother and our sister-in-law and their kids. I noticed that week that I hadn't felt the baby move as much and even commented about it to a friend who stopped by to visit while we were there. On the day of August 2nd, the kids and I loaded up the van. We were headed home, but stopping in Lawton for my checkup. The kids were hungry, so we stopped at Sonic for lunch. Since I had been craving BLT's for a while, I ordered one, but noticed something strange - I wasn't craving them. I just ordered it because I had been eating them lately.

We drove about an hour to the doctor's appoint. My husband met me there and my mom also came and took the kids shopping during the appointment. The nurse began to do the normal things before the doctor came in. As she tried to check the babies heartbeat, she couldn't detect it. She tried again. Still nothing. She left. They moved me to another room to do an ultrasound. Dr. "L" checked for a heartbeat and movement. Nothing. She told me she there was no heartbeat. I said, "I'm not surprised."

Just to be certain, Dr. "L" ordered an amniocentesis. It proved what she thought and what we also believed. Our little baby had died. At 20 1/2 weeks, our precious little boy was gone. And then I realized something that had been a fear of mine...something that I never thought I could ever do: I was going to have to delivery a baby that wasn't alive.

Dr. "L" wanted me to take a day or two and go home. She said I could come back when I was ready and be admitted to the hospital for the delivery. I didn't want to wait. I wanted to go to the hospital right then. As strange as it seems, it was like I had been preparing for that day - or rather GOD had been preparing me for that day - for a long time.

We called my mom and she brought the kids to us. We talked to them and told them what was going on. She took them home with her and she and my dad took care of them during that time. Our preacher and his wife came to the hospital and stayed with us the entire time. They helped us so much and it was comforting to have someone there with us during the hours we were waiting for the delivery to begin. We all cried together and at times we were even able to laugh together. When little Caleb Trent was delivered, it was very, very different than from all the other births, of course. He was stillborn on August 3, 2002. He was so tiny - only 10 ounces. He was tiny, but very perfect. In fact, he looked like our youngest son, Jacob.

The only thing that the doctor noticed was that the umbilical cord was small. In fact, at the end by his tummy, it was only about the diameter of a toothpick. She explained that there are amniotic bands, which are kind of like rubber bands. Occasionally those bands wrap around fingers, hands, arms (see this post for more about amniotic band problems concerning our nephew). Sometimes the bands sever a digit. It appeared that the amniotic band wrapped around the umbilical cord, restricting the food supply and eventually cutting it off completely.

After the delivery, the four of us had a prayer together over our son. Our friends left. I know they must have been exhausted. The hospital staff made this extremely difficult time very special for us in many ways. They gave us lots of time to hold Caleb. They filled a little sea shell with plaster Paris and made a cast with Caleb's hand prints and footprints. An organization provides a little gown for stillborn babies and he was dressed in the gown. The nurses took pictures for us and gave us the disk. I hadn't seen those pictures since that time until a few weeks ago. I was looking in a drawer for something and came across two pictures. My daughter was sitting there and I said, "Those pictures are of Caleb." She said, "I don't want to see them, Mom." Maybe someday she will, but maybe not. It's okay if she never does.

The next few hours were extremely difficult. It was hard to let him go when the man from the funeral home came. I was suppose to carry my baby out of the hospital, not someone else. The nurses couldn't understand how we were so strong while waiting for the delivery. They were expecting us to be unable to cope, I suppose. Then after delivery, they were so careful when I was moved to the post-partum room. They didn't want us to hear the bells ring when a baby was born. They didn't want us to hear babies crying. But, we wanted to and we told them so! We wanted to know that babies were being born alive and healthy! It didn't cause us pain. It gave us hope!

The first place we went after we left the hospital was Walmart. I don't remember why, but I did want to buy a little tiny baby doll. I wanted it to show our children about how small Caleb was. I thought it would help them understand just how tiny and fragile he was. Purchasing that doll was extremely hard. Being in Walmart itself was hard.

The next difficult thing was going to the funeral home. The man who helped us with the planning also went to church with us, so it was difficult for him, too. I remember saying to him, "I can't believe I am sitting here doing what I'm doing." After that, I busied myself with planning the service. I've mentioned in a previous post how I've thought about my own funeral. This service, as short as it was, was very planned. It helped me to plan it - that's just my personality. I felt like I was doing something for my child as his mother. It was something I needed to do for me.

Caleb Trent's memorial service was held on Monday, August 6. We had a grave-side service followed by a family meal, which provided by our church family. The cemetery plot we chose had a mimosa tree across from it, which provided shade on that morning. Our children were given helium-filled balloons, which were released at the end of the service.

During that time, God proved to me (even more) that His promises are true. He showed me that I could get through something that I feared before, something that I thought I could never be able to go through. But, I was only able to go through what I did because of the strength He gave me.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble. Psalm 46:1

In March of 2002, we found out we were expecting again. The baby was due in December, just as Caleb had been. It was a perfect pregnancy without complications. Tyler James (a.k.a. Biscuit) was born on December 5th, 2002, healthy and perfect.

We all look forward to seeing Caleb Trent again some day in Heaven, but for now we know he is healthy and happy and whole. God's plan for Caleb was different than what I had planned. But, God is in control and I'm not. And, unlike before, I don't ever think about what I "could never handle" or what would be the "hardest thing to go through". God is able to give me the strength that I could never have on my own and for that, I'm extremely grateful.

Join us for Gratituesday at  Heavenly Homemakers!

Happy Holidays?

When I was a Freshman in High School, my great-grandpa passed away in December.  The next year my great uncle was killed in a car accident, also in December.  Believe it or not, the next December, another tragedy affected our family.  My great aunt and uncle on the other side of the family were both killed when hit by a semi truck.  Understandably so, the next year, I dreaded December.  I wasn't sure what would happen after three years of tragedies.  Thankfully, nothing happened that next year.

Last Friday, as I was cleaning up from the elementary Christmas party, I was visiting with the school nurse about their Christmas plans.  She was so excited about her family getting to stay home Christmas Day.  All extended family plans were later on that evening or on other days.  She talked about how usually they were not able to stay home on Christmas because of family obligations.  She was also looking forward to the two week break and relaxing with her family.

The next day I learned that the school nurse's mother had passed away that morning.  I was so sad to hear the news and it breaks my heart that she and her family will be facing grief during this time of year.  Death of a loved one is hard at any time, but around the holidays it seemed like that grief is compounded even more.

Today after worship services I thought about the prayer list of so many who were sick, awaiting surgery, or who had lost loved ones.  During this happy and joyous time of year - time of celebration - don't forget those who are hurting or maybe grieving.  Don't forget those who may be lonely.

The happiest time of year for some may possibly be the worst time of year for others.  However, we can reach out to those who are hurting by extending a helping hand and a caring heart.  By showing Christ's love to others we are letting our lights shine.  Just another way to "Shine Like Stars."

May our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and word.

2 Thessalonians 2:16-17

The Loss of a Child

Eleven years ago, our daughter started to Kindergarten. Her P.E. teacher was expecting a baby, but about five months she went into preterm labor. The little girl was born alive, but passed away a few hours later. I thought to myself, "That would be the hardest thing to go through".


That next summer, my sister had her first child, a little boy. While we were at the hospital visiting, there was a huge family out in the waiting room. Many of the family members were crying. We found out that the full term baby they were waiting on had died. Their family member was delivering a baby that wasn't alive. I thought to myself, "That would be the hardest thing to go through."

A few years later, in the spring of 2001, a friend told me of a family with four children who lived in West Texas. One of their children was swimming in a neighborhood pool and accidentally drowned. She had heard from a friend of hers about the little boy's funeral. Those in attendance were given helium-filled balloons that were released at the end of the memorial service. My friend, who had a little brother pass away when she was little, always remembered blue carnations from his funeral. She talked about how that visual memory was still so vivid in her mind. We both talked about children and death and how that would be "the hardest thing" as a parent, but how it might help in the grieving process to make the service "personalized" in some way. I really liked the balloon idea and told her so.

At that time, we had three living children, ages 7, 5, and 3, and we were expecting the fourth child - due December 12, 2001. The same doctor had delivered the first three children, but he had "retired" from delivering at that time, so I had to change to a new one. The new doctor was nice, but not as personal. He had a more military-style demeanor that I wasn't really used to, but he seemed very thorough. At one appointment, the nurse took some blood and later mentioned that it was some kind of test for abnormalities. I had never done any of those kinds of tests before. I never wanted to because I knew I wouldn't do anything if something happened to be wrong with one of our babies. Healthy or unhealthy, disabled or not - it wouldn't matter to us. But, the test was done and I didn't realize what was being done until afterwards. I thought, "Oh, well. It won't matter. It's just a test."

We went out of town on a business trip vacation for a week, but when we arrived back home, I had a message from the doctor. They needed me to call for an appointment. I did and was told that the alpha fetal protein level was higher than normal and I needed to go in for more testing. I was transferred to a doctor who specialized in problem pregnancies and was to see her the next day.

The morning before that appointment, I sat down to pray and read the Bible. I randomly opened it to a passage. I'm not sure which book (it could have been one of four) in the Old Testament I turned to, but I know that the first thing I saw was the name, "Caleb". We weren't sure if we were having a boy or a girl, but we knew if it was a boy, the middle name would for sure be "Trent". We had been thinking of Caleb for the first name.

Joe and I went to the appointment and Dr. "L" did some tests. During that appointment, because of the longer ultrasound needed to check for problems, we went ahead found out that we were having a little boy. We were excited! Our family would be one girl, then three boys. (Our daughter cried. She was wanting a sister!) Everything seemed fine to Dr. "L", but she told us that with the AFP level being abnormal, the chances of the baby being born with some sort of defect was almost certain. We were concerned, of course, but knew everything would be okay, even if our baby had a disability. We were prayerful that everything would be okay. The next appointment was scheduled for a month later, on August 2.

On the Sunday evening of July 28, our young adult group from church had a devotional. At the end of the devotional, a special prayer was said for us, for our baby, and for his health. That was such a special time being with Christian friends and knowing they were praying about our precious little one and for God to strengthen us for what we were going to be facing in the next few months.

All summer long I had been craving BLT sandwiches. It was a strange craving to me! Different from the watermelon (#1), milk shakes/ice cream (#2), and Chinese food (#3) that were cravings the first three times! At 20 1/2 weeks, I had gained a lot more weight with this pregnancy that I had with any of the other three. I also didn't feel quite as good, but thought that was more because of the extra weight and the fact that I was older.

The week of that appointment the kids and I went to Edmond, OK, to stay with my husband's brother and our sister-in-law and their kids. I noticed that week that I hadn't felt the baby move as much and even commented about it to a friend who stopped by to visit while we were there. On the day of August 2nd, the kids and I loaded up the van. We were headed home, but stopping in Lawton for my checkup. The kids were hungry, so we stopped at Sonic for lunch. Since I had been craving BLT's for a while, I ordered one, but noticed something strange - I wasn't craving them. I just ordered it because I had been eating them lately.

We drove about an hour to the doctor's appoint. My husband met me there and my mom also came and took the kids shopping during the appointment. The nurse began to do the normal things before the doctor came in. As she tried to check the babies heartbeat, she couldn't detect it. She tried again. Still nothing. She left. They moved me to another room to do an ultrasound. Dr. "L" checked for a heartbeat and movement. Nothing. She told me she there was no heartbeat. I said, "I'm not surprised."

Just to be certain, Dr. "L" ordered an amniocentesis. It proved what she thought and what we also believed. Our little baby had died. At 20 1/2 weeks, our precious little boy was gone. And then I realized something that had been a fear of mine...something that I never thought I could ever do: I was going to have to delivery a baby that wasn't alive.

Dr. "L" wanted me to take a day or two and go home. She said I could come back when I was ready and be admitted to the hospital for the delivery. I didn't want to wait. I wanted to go to the hospital right then. As strange as it seems, it was like I had been preparing for that day - or rather GOD had been preparing me for that day - for a long time.

We called my mom and she brought the kids to us. We talked to them and told them what was going on. She took them home with her and she and my dad took care of them during that time. Our preacher and his wife came to the hospital and stayed with us the entire time. They helped us so much and it was comforting to have someone there with us during the hours we were waiting for the delivery to begin. We all cried together and at times we were even able to laugh together. When little Caleb Trent was delivered, it was very, very different than from all the other births, of course. He was stillborn on August 3, 2002. He was so tiny - only 10 ounces. He was tiny, but very perfect. In fact, he looked like our youngest son, Jacob.

The only thing that the doctor noticed was that the umbilical cord was small. In fact, at the end by his tummy, it was only about the diameter of a toothpick. She explained that there are amniotic bands, which are kind of like rubber bands. Occasionally those bands wrap around fingers, hands, arms (see this post for more about amniotic band problems concerning our nephew). Sometimes the bands sever a digit. It appeared that the amniotic band wrapped around the umbilical cord, restricting the food supply and eventually cutting it off completely.

After the delivery, the four of us had a prayer together over our son. Our friends left. I know they must have been exhausted. The hospital staff made this extremely difficult time very special for us in many ways. They gave us lots of time to hold Caleb. They filled a little sea shell with plaster Paris and made a cast with Caleb's hand prints and footprints. An organization provides a little gown for stillborn babies and he was dressed in the gown. The nurses took pictures for us and gave us the disk. I hadn't seen those pictures since that time until a few weeks ago. I was looking in a drawer for something and came across two pictures. My daughter was sitting there and I said, "Those pictures are of Caleb." She said, "I don't want to see them, Mom." Maybe someday she will, but maybe not. It's okay if she never does.

The next few hours were extremely difficult. It was hard to let him go when the man from the funeral home came. I was suppose to carry my baby out of the hospital, not someone else. The nurses couldn't understand how we were so strong while waiting for the delivery. They were expecting us to be unable to cope, I suppose. Then after delivery, they were so careful when I was moved to the post-partum room. They didn't want us to hear the bells ring when a baby was born. They didn't want us to hear babies crying. But, we wanted to and we told them so! We wanted to know that babies were being born alive and healthy! It didn't cause us pain. It gave us hope!

The first place we went after we left the hospital was Walmart. I don't remember why, but I did want to buy a little tiny baby doll. I wanted it to show our children about how small Caleb was. I thought it would help them understand just how tiny and fragile he was. Purchasing that doll was extremely hard. Being in Walmart itself was hard.

The next difficult thing was going to the funeral home. The man who helped us with the planning also went to church with us, so it was difficult for him, too. I remember saying to him, "I can't believe I am sitting here doing what I'm doing." After that, I busied myself with planning the service. I've mentioned in a previous post how I've thought about my own funeral. This service, as short as it was, was very planned. It helped me to plan it - that's just my personality. I felt like I was doing something for my child as his mother. It was something I needed to do for me.

Caleb Trent's memorial service was held on Monday, August 6. We had a grave-side service followed by a family meal, which provided by our church family. The cemetery plot we chose had a mimosa tree across from it, which provided shade on that morning. Our children were given helium-filled balloons, which were released at the end of the service.

During that time, God proved to me (even more) that His promises are true. He showed me that I could get through something that I feared before, something that I thought I could never be able to go through. But, I was only able to go through what I did because of the strength He gave me.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble. Psalm 46:1

In March of 2002, we found out we were expecting again. The baby was due in December, just as Caleb had been. It was a perfect pregnancy without complications. Tyler James (a.k.a. Biscuit) was born on December 5th, 2002, healthy and perfect.

We all look forward to seeing Caleb Trent again some day in Heaven, but for now we know he is healthy and happy and whole. God's plan for Caleb was different than what I had planned. But, God is in control and I'm not. And, unlike before, I don't ever think about what I "could never handle" or what would be the "hardest thing to go through". God is able to give me the strength that I could never have on my own and for that, I'm extremely grateful.

Join us for Gratituesday at Heavenly Homemakers!

Planning Your Funeral

A sweet Christian lady passed away this week. Wilma was 85 and recently had a stroke. We've known Wilma for about 13 years. She worships at the congregation where my parents do in Altus.

I just heard something really neat about Wilma's funeral preparations. She wanted to be buried in a gown and robe (it's pink). And, she only wanted a single rose on top of the casket. These two simple requests are not fancy. They are not elaborate. Elaborate wouldn't be Wilma's style at all. Isn't that a sweet request?

It may sound strange to some of you, but I "plan" my funeral. I'll be thinking about it and realize, "Hey! You won't be there!". Oh, yeah! Now, when I say "plan", I mean like the songs, the color of the casket, NOT THE DAY!! (However, God's in control of that, and when he calls - I'll be there!) Sometimes I'll tell my husband I want a certain song at my funeral and he always says that I will out-live him so I need to tell someone else! Maybe someday I'll write it all out like I did my wedding plans years ago (ha! ha!).

Often I joke about having a "theme" at my funeral - like a party. I'm a party-planner at heart and I decorate for lots of things. I have a shed full of totes with luau decor, cowboy decor, safari decor, garden decor, rubber ducky, and more. LOTS OF DECORATION STUFF! I remember telling my ladies Bible class that I wanted a theme at my funeral. One lady jokingly said that if it was winter I could have a cowboy theme and if in the summer, it could be a luau! No. I'd better not! No theme.

You know? Wilma's request is so simple and sweet. She knew what all Christians know and realize. It doesn't matter what we wear at our funeral. It doesn't matter what color the casket is or what flowers are on top. It doesn't matter who attends our funeral. (Of course, it matters to the family and that is a very important part of the grieving process...going through those steps.) The only thing that really and truly matters is if your heart belongs to Jesus. It only matters if you are a child of God. It only matters where you will be spending eternity. In Heaven with God and Jesus - that's where I want to be. How about you?