He is Mighty to Save

        We serve a Mighty, Powerful God. He can make the blind see, tell the lame to get up and walk and they do, he can raise the dead, he even breathed life into dirt to make man. He is a Miracle Maker. This makes me in complete awe of Him..... but it also makes me mad at Him. Where is my miracle? Ask and you shall receive...... I asked and I was left heartbroken and betrayed. Does He not love me? Am I not worthy of a yes when I ask? Where is this loving and compassionate God that I'm always reading about? That can't be love. Taking my baby and leaving me there with a giant gaping hole in my heart and in my life.... that can't be Love. 

        But it is. It is a love that I could never comprehend it is so great and never ending. God has a plan for Hank's life, and mine, and Nathan's that is greater than I could ever imagine. I may never understand why this had to be the plan, and I may always have moments when I am mad at Him for it, but He will keep loving me. He loves me so much He sent His only son to die for me. Jesus is mighty to save! Even me who questions Him, gets angry at Him....disappoints Him day after day. He still loves me even when I don't love Him.
        He is mighty to save... He bled and died so that I could live Life Everlasting.

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.  Romans 6:23

3 Months Gone

It's been 3 months since I last held Hank in my arms. No words for today.... just a sad heart.

3 Months

          

           

           Three months ago today, my first child was born. And in just two short days, it will make three months that he's been in heaven. It is still so surreal. I never in a million years thought that I would bury a child. I am reminded of one of my favorite songs from when I was in high school by Soul Union. It's called "Why I Smile" and talks about how Jesus came to earth, he traded his crown of glory for a crown of thorns and was crucified. Then it says, "You see that death did not hold him. Death where's thy stain? The devil tried to dethrone him, but he's risen as King!"

           That is how I feel.... that there is a big stain left on my life. And, just like a stained shirt, my life will never look the same way again. But there's the problem. I don't want anyone to look at my life and see a stained up old t-shirt. Yes it has character, and it may even get comfortable, but it keeps you from seeing the shirt as it should be. I want to some day look back on my life and say, "Death, Where's my stain?" I want to look back and see the beauty God has created from the ashes. I want my life to look more like an old patchwork quilt. Stitched together with the utmost care and love by my Creator, soft and warn from love in some areas, an held together with tough threads of determination in others, and plum worn out from use. I want to use the heck out of my life. I am not promised tomorrow and I have a lot of living, a lot of giving, and a lot of praising left to do. How will I ever let the light of God shine through me, if I allow myself to become all stained up by this awful thing called death?

Psalm 139:14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Your works are wonderful!
I know that....... well I'm trying to. 
 

Marathoning for Miracles

Keepin' it real...

        In the words of the Pioneer Woman.... I'm keeping it real today.
        It is easy, when your writing a blog to "edit" your life and make it look pretty. It would be so much easier to just write about the ways God is working on me, through my son's passing away. You may mistakenly think I was strong if that was all you read. But....it wouldn't be the truth. It is far from the truth. Sometimes in the grief there is hope. Sometimes in the grief there is joy. Sometimes in the grief there is healing. But sometimes the grief is just UGLY.
          When it is ugly, no one can say the right thing. You think no one could possibly understand. The only things you can seem to remember are the bad. The terrifying words of the doctors, the site of my baby boy being resuscitated, the anger, the fact that my sister was not allowed to see him until he was laying there dying. Thoughts of what I will never do with him consume me. My heart feels black. My body feels burdened. And my soul feels betrayed. 
           That is the UGLY grief that I feel like I am constantly trying to beat back with a stick. My stick is big though, and some day I will succeed in beating down that UGLY grief.  My stick looks a lot like a promise.... This promise: 

Isaiah 61:3 -to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. 

Awaiting my crown of beauty.......

I am in love with these feet!

Hank had such big feet for his tiny little body. Ugh, I could look at those feet all day. I sent this picture to his Auntie and she texted me and said, "I am in Love with that wrinkled foot!" Me too. I wish we were looking at the real thing and not just a picture.

Oh, yes... there is Joy!

Part of me thought that I would never feel it again. Not after my husband and I lowered Hank's casket into the dry, hard earth. Joy. I thought it was gone.....forever. But, a couple of weeks ago, on a Wednesday night at 7:00...... I found it. I returned for the first time to our Wednesday night children's ministry, and only expected to feel the pain. I had spend many many days thinking about the day that I would bring Hank to that very place I love. I was almost dreading going back. And then it happened..... I walked through those doors and saw the smiling faces of all of those kids I love so much, and I felt their hugs, and I heard their stories about their days, and ate supper with them I watched them sing songs to our Amazing God. And I watched the women from our church who work all day, then get off and come to prepare a meal for those kids. And they stand on their tired feet and serve us all with great big smiles and kind, kind words. Not thinking of satisfying their own hunger, they assure that all of our stomachs are nourished to prepare our souls to be too. And then, they scrub pans and sweep floors, and wipe tables. That is service. And that is love. Then we go to our classes and I listen to what the kids have to say about their faith, and I'm blown away at the perspectives they give, and the depth of some of their knowledge, and the desperate need for knowledge in others. And I listen as we gather together again to share, some of them so eager to share what they've learned that night. And then we join hands and I look into each one of their eyes as we sing, "I love you with the love of the Lord." And there it was, the joy I thought I'd never feel again. Reminding me yet again that God is good... all the time!


Deuteronomy 4:9  “Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children’s children—