Startling realization yesterday....

In order to deliver a child into this world it takes an enormous amount of resource! To ensure the health of the mother and child, much time is given to research, teaching, help, direction and conversations with total strangers. Most even take "Lamaze" classes to help further prepare the new mother and father for what is to come and how to handle the unseen.

In the same way, to ensure health... It takes no less time, effort, resources, direction and help to support the mother and father when their child leaves this world...

For me, I have been plagued by guilt that I am not progressing in (just a fancy term for getting over) the death of my child. Yes, I know it's been over a year. Yes, I am a Christian. Yes, I know Grace is in a much better place. Yes, I do believe I will see her again. But, still, knowing all that, I am heart-broken she is not here with me anymore. My heart aches to hear her voice and see her face, kiss her brow and hear her annoyance at my overbearing motherly advice. It has been a year and three months since Grace passed and the pain in my heart is no less severe and I am not any happier about it today than I was 15 months ago! And no, I don’t see that just disappearing in the next few hours, days, weeks or months.

So, no, I realize, I am not “progressing” very well. I need help.

I open my eyes each morning… I eat my lunch…I answer phone calls and buy groceries and smile politely all while swatting at that swarm of buzzing gnats beating my soul with the same rhythmic incessant thought, “A Christain who is full of faith should not be feeling these soulish emotions. People are tired of you being such a “downer” during celebratory events and casual conversations. You should be ashamed of your deep anger, bitter doubt, mounting frustration and depressing brokenness.” Which, in turn, only makes me more angry, more frustrated and more depressed! I need help!

What I am discovering is that it is not about the efficiency or depth of faith that makes this journey of burying a child more successful or quicker or less painful. But rather, what direction I apply my faith. That is the key. It is easy to see that the new mother is not negating her faith (or in fact it really has anything to do with faith) when she seeks out help and resources to bring her newborn into this world. We call that wisdom. And that is exactly where our faith should lead us…into wise council from ones who have experienced what we are going through. It is through process, wise counsel and experienced help we deliver our child into this world and it is through process, wise counsel and experienced help that we find our way back to a healthy life when our child leaves this world.

(I speak as one who lost a child, but I believe the guilt free faith of “getting help” would be beneficial through any traumatic or devastating event in our lives.)

Joy, as defined by Webster’s Dictionary, is the “state or feeling of great happiness”, as if the only way to find joy is to top the scale of happiness. If that were the case very few of us would ever find “Joy”. Maybe in the truest sense of the word, very few of us do.

I remember shortly after my dad died Eric and I, along with our four small children, were out “joy” riding. There is something about dirt roads that sing to me. They are the sweetest lullabies that draw out the deepest of hidden memories and unfurled dreams inside of me. Something elusive makes me yearn for the courageous and reckless spirit of dirt roads. The woods, in all their mystery and fortitude, stand guard and hold their ground at the very edge of this “path” that has been purposefully and rebelliously cut through them like winding scars. And oh my! What an olfactory buffet. You can smell dirt from the newly planted fields. Or fresh water on newly cut grass. The jasmine calls in sweet fragrance as it drapes graciously over fence rows. And honeysuckle as it hangs in trumpets of honey gold from overgrown trees. The children are singing and laughing as they bounce around in the back of the slow moving truck. Eric and I are holding hands, saying little as random dogs bark and chase our tires. And I am thinking of my dad. Missing him so much I can hardly breathe. And then it hits me. This thing so slight but solid hits me out of the blue. In the depth of my sorrow and grief comes this awakening of the moment, unfolding in heaviness but quickness before my very eyes. I look at my tenderly held hand and the back seat full of our love manifested in dirt smeared, giggling faces. Out of the midst of the belly of grief blooms not pleasure or happiness but rather the whisper of an indescribable idea or reality. I sense it in its beauty and depth and am instantly confused but grateful by its presence. It can only be described as J O Y. It only came to rest like a butterfly, but as it lit, I was filled with a desire so great and so overwhelming I knew it did not come from me. The reality of it sits within me to this day, some ten years later.

Joy is different from any other emotion. So much is the difference that I would say joy is not an emotion at all and therefore cannot be associated with the “height” of an emotion. Saying that joy is the “state of great happiness” is like saying a big hill is a tiny mountain. In the description you may have been referring to scale but missed the majesty of the greater, thus reducing the true nature of the most grand to a thing that could easily be handled and explained. A mountain is seen as a creation of grandeur and glory. To use in comparison the mountain to a hill will only reduce the notion of the mountain, not elevate the reality of a hill.

To my understanding, joy and happiness are not to be pieced together, to do so will only reduce the glory of joy to merely just” a good time.”

Bitterness, pain, sorrow and grief are all emotions. And, in my reasoning, an emotion cannot overcome another emotion. Pleasure can replace pain, but as soon as pleasure is gone the pain will immediately come back. The emotion of bitterness, pain, sorrow and grief can only be overcome by joy. I have been plagued by these emotions this past year. I have felt the depth of a broken heart and have contended with the emotions that ravage the tender soul like swarms of hungry and careless locust.  I have been crying out for J O Y! But the mystery of joy is that you cannot achieve it or find it like you find pleasure, comfort and happiness. The awesomeness of joy is that it finds you. The secret of joy is to recognize it when comes to rest upon you. God said His kingdom is a place filled with righteousness, peace and joy.  Thankfully, He did not say happiness. Who would be happy to die on a cross? What kind of God would expect it? But like righteousness and peace, joy is not achieved. It is given. And it is given in the most bitter of natural circumstances. That is the goodness of God for my sake! (And for the sake of my hurt and ravaged soul.)  In a heart filled with peace and righteousness, the reality of joy comes to rest. It matters not that I am not happy, or that my soul is tormented. In fact I am finding that it is these times when I sense most clearly the touch of joy. With tears on my face, in the bitterness of heartfelt pain, my God answers me. He gives me a reality bigger than my temporary being. He gives me…  J O Y. 

     Since Grace’s death, I have really changed my mind about many things, faced a lot of difficult questions and statements and endured more emotional pain than I ever imagined I would. Some of the things I have faced are, “Grace got what she deserved. Because of sin, she deserved death.” “Because of your lack of faith, Grace never really had a chance.” “Because of what she would have done in the future…” No need to go further, you get the point. And I have given a lot of thought to such statements and observations. Certainly, I am not the only person who has heard such things upon the loss of a loved one. It’s funny how we as humans HAVE to have a reason. And when you don’t get one from God, you want to make up your own. I have been relentless to gather my own answers and have been impatient with God upon not hearing any. I can remember shortly after her death, as I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom, I was talking to God about how He really missed it. (I share this to my own shame!) And I meant it! So many people were believing and praying. Wouldn't it have been awesome for us all to see such a great miracle? “How many people could have been saved by her marvelous testimony of healing? I mean it God, You really missed it big time! I don’t like or understand any of this at all.” His response to me immediately was, “Laura, I don’t need to prove Myself to anyone.” “I don’t need to justify My actions to you or any man.” 

     Now, you reading this can’t understand how that came across to me because you didn't hear His voice and experience His touch. We know how we humans talk when we say such things like that to each other. (With the head snap and attitude.) But, it was not like that at all. The feeling was like when you watch a child stumbling with his newly found feet and the watchful father lunges, arms spread long and wide for him as he is teetering toward a nasty fall. It was the words of a loving Father, who very tenderly lifted up a child’s tear-streaked face to look into His earnest and loving eyes. What He was giving me opportunity for was, “Come up here, child.” “Let Me show you life, and death, from My perspective.” And in an instant I understood and I felt His outstretched arms toward me. His ways are not my ways. He doesn't need to defend His actions to anyone. He knows it all and sees the ultimate end. He doesn't need to justify Himself to me or anyone else. So, needless to say, I don’t have many answers to the ‘why’ of it all. But, I am grateful to say He is revealing Himself to me in ways that ease the fire in my head and the burning in my heart.      

     From the beginning I have struggled with viewing Grace’s death as a defeat and failure. She’s gone. My faith didn't work. My prayers didn't avail. SHE IS GONE! But, slowly, with His finger under my chin, my head and sight have been lifted upward, to see life, and death, from His perspective. His provocation to me is, “What was the point?”  Was the point of it all (my prayers, fasting and faith) to get Grace healed? If it was, then her death can only be seen as defeat and failure. Or was the point of our prayers and faith to see Grace strong in the middle of her storm and to see God move on her behalf and on our behalf? To see His will accomplished through our lives no matter the outcome? If that was the ultimate point, then, yes, the only thing you can see in the end is victory. 

     But I still question. "Should her death equal failure?"  “Laura, is death ever a part of My kingdom?” “No, Father, You are only about life and light.” “Laura, would you like for me to bring My Son, the One who died on the cross, into this conversation?”  And I gasp with the realization of how much He wills for me to understand, not about the ins and outs of Grace’s outcome. But, rather, He wants me to understand Him and His ways. 

     The input of a dear friend upon hearing all this from my heart was this observation. “Our destinies are not wrought for this time and dimension only, but rather, for eternity. Grace is still fulfilling her destiny!” How much of my sight and understanding is earthly bound! Death does not equal failure. Death does not mean the end. There is no way I would ever see the death of Christ as a failure!! Christ’s destiny did not begin on this earth and it did not end when He ascended into heaven! There is so much more to come! And I have so much more to learn.

Victory or Failure can only be defined from the position from which I stand. Earthly understanding will always lead me astray and cause me to live less than. And Heavenly understanding can never be gained from looking downward. Victory or failure? That really is the question isn't it? Grace finished her race victoriously. She finished her race with a heart full of strength, peace, faith and love. Her faith endured to the end. Grace’s life and her death can only be seen as victory as long as I’m looking through eyes that have been lifted upward by the love and grace of God.

The glitter has fallen
And I with it.


Sparkles of white, silver and gold,


Subdued to hues of blue, black and red,


Platitudes, latitudes and longitudes,


You are sure of where you stand, of where you stood.

But, it is not the stand nor the stance but the bow.

The bow, the bend, the break,

Broken, face down, humbled, contrite,
Melted soul poured thin but deep.

Deep is revealed down low, on callused knees,

Truth and grace gather in still places, solemn moments,


Head and soul breathe dust, wind bends the mind,
Spirit and heart inhale heaven, Fire refines the life,


Sight perfected in meek reflection, senses gained,
Strength attained in buckled knees, Wisdom summoned,

I stood…Sure, confident and steady

Blurred, dull, full of fantasy


With glittered abrasion I fell…broken, dizzy and sorrowful

Awake, sharp, full of clarity

Forehead, face, shoulder, belly, knees, toes… laid flat...kissing the ground
Sight, healing, understanding abound ….heaven touching earth.

As I remain...Bowed Down

This past August Eric and I celebrated 23 years of marriage. That, from one perspective, is a lot of time, a lot of time to learn about myself and life. It seems since Grace’s passing I have been sorting through the mental card catalogue of my life. Looking at what I have learned, examining with care each card. I am looking at what I believe and value, what is true and what are just powerless platitudes or outdated ideals.

I came across one card and I find myself unable to put it down. The card I hold in my hands is dingy, torn and the writing has faded but it has been underscored, highlighted and circled. I remember when this card was written. It was during the early stages of my marriage when life was bright and shiny and new.  In one corner of this card I can still see the faded splotches of spit-up from our newborn, Grace. The card reads, “Children do not make your life better. The life of a child only magnifies what is already there.” I remember writing this card. Only someone with a child can understand the simplicity and beauty of this truth. The same can be said of someone with money or with a spouse…”These things don’t make your life better…just different…and they prove to only magnify your strength or weakness.”

The inexperienced eyes of the young wife look longingly at the arms of the mother holding the baby. The young wife thinks to herself, “A baby will make it all better!” But the reality of experience says, “The baby only exposes what is already in the marriage.” If the marriage is strong, loving and stable, the baby will amplify that love, stability and strength. If the marriage is fraught with discontentment, tension and heartache, the baby will only expose and magnify the disgruntled and hard feelings. I re-read my card for the umpteenth time, “The life of a child does not make life better, only different. It reveals what is already there.”

It is upon examining this card, turning it over and over again in my shaking hands that I know this card is incomplete. I didn’t rewrite a new card but rather just added a much needed second truth. “The life of a child doesn’t make your life better. The death of a child doesn’t make your life worse, just different. Life or death only magnifies what is already there.” This is an old card with a familiar understanding but with a whole new depth. The first truth cannot stand if the second truth is error. Do the circumstances of my life make my life any better or any worse?? That is why I am still holding this card in my hand, turning it over and over, reading it in my sleep and in the shower. But still, neither truth is substantial if I don’t read the back of the card. What is on the back of this card is, in some form or fashion, what is on the back of all of my cards. I didn’t write the back. It is the handwriting of Jesus. His writing reads, “If you take My words and live by them then your life is complete. If you ignore My words and go your own way then your life will always lack.”  Then the truth of my life isn’t about better or worse but about being complete.

Simple, plain and extravagant! And full of Hope! Husbands, children, money, etc…these things are temporary, inconsistent and fleeting. It seems they are here one minute and gone the next. The presence of these things in my life does not make my life better any more than the absence of these things makes my life worse. He, the Christ, makes my life complete. In the end, it is not about what I have written, scratched out, added or edited on the front side of the cards of my life that really count, it is what I have done with the writing on the back.

Eric and I visit Grace’s graveside often. To explain why we go there would be futile to those who don’t understand. But then trying to understand the incompressible was the whole reason I started blogging in the first place. It seems I haven’t made much progress since the time of Grace’s tragic death and her glorious “Heavenly Homecoming”. I suppose where I am right now in this process is trying to bridge the chasm between the knowledge of my head versus the hurt of my heart.

We leave her graveside and every time I am struggling to breathe and think straight. I just keep muttering to myself, “Our child died. Our firstborn died. Our Grace died!” It remains incomprehensible. As I walk away, holding on to Eric, the pain in my heart is almost unbearable. And I shouldn’t say ‘heart’ because that is just one tiny space within your chest. That place just left of the middle of your chest. I should say, “The pain that starts in the back of my throat as I choke back hot tears, collides with a rolling acid wave of stabbing pain pulling upward from the bottom of my lungs. The two forces meet somewhere in the middle of the entirety of my chest which causes me to lose my breath”. I have to actually remind myself to breath. At that point with every beat of my heart, my deafened ears ring. All I am really aware of is the pulse of my heart ringing in my stinging and burning ears mixed with intense and consuming pain.  

Still, with the shake of my head I know that is an inept description. There is no way to really convey the depth, intensity and hollowness of the unbelievable pain and sadness that fills my being, numbs my brain and disarms my senses at the realization that “Grace is gone”.

As we drive off, with my world coming back into focus, I realize I was not prepared for this kind of pain and loss. I suppose there is no way one could prepare for it. But, still, I know I am being “unreasonable”. My head says the pain I feel is “unreasonable.” I remember holding Grace in my arms hours before she passed telling her, “Baby, if God gives you what you deserve He will give you Heaven. Don’t stay here for me or dad! Choose Heaven. Receive your reward! You have fought so hard and so well, you deserve Heaven.” My head knows Heaven is the best place for her. A place where there is no pain or tears. Grace was about to leave for college and start her own life apart from me and her dad. Our time together was coming to a drastic change. Children leave home to make their own path and go their own way. Change was coming either way. "You know Heaven is the best place for her"…..This is what my head says.

But my heart, well, my heart is another story. My heart cannot understand, accept or fathom such reasoning. My heart hurts at the loss of Grace. It implodes and bursts with searing pain at the memory of her face, the sound of her laugh, the sight of her picture or the remembrance of plans made for her future.

At the moment, I find I cannot bridge the chasm between my reasonable head that understands Grace is in a better place and my unreasonable heart that feels only her bitter absence. My head reasons that with the passing of time, (Come on Laura it’s been five months!) my heart shouldn’t hurt so badly, (Come on Laura it’s only been five months!). My head cannot comprehend my heart. My heart doesn’t listen to my head. But it hopes. My heart still hopes for the strength to bear the loss of our Grace well. My heart hopes not in the lessening of the pain of losing Grace but rather in endurance until the chasm between my head and heart is bridged.

My heart remains in hope until my head and my heart are one again.

It seems I cried the entirety of last week! It started Monday with a wonderful group of hearts that allowed me to give them a glimpse of Grace. The tears continued….on and on….Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday was no exception. A dear friend and I travelled all over our great community Thursday promoting the Day of Grace and I had the pleasure to encounter many people who talked about our dear and beloved daughter.

The tears wanted to come but I tried my best to keep them away. I so desperately wanted to hear everything these dear fellow citizens had to say about Grace’s life and her impact on them personally.  Some talked openly with me. Some walked carefully and tenderly, not wanting to rush in and cause tears. Others wiped their eyes while I wiped mine. My cup was being filled up.

It is amazing how empty you can feel one moment. When I say empty, I mean that feeling of being utterly alone, feeling small, hollow and insignificant. Teetering on the brink of despair you draw yourself up into the furthermost corner of the darkened room of your soul, willing the thickened air to cover over and erase you like a hand wipes over a chalkboard and all memory of what once was there is not only forgotten but absolutely irretrievable.  Pain and tragedy can take a person to rooms like that.

But then, with something as simple as a smile or a kind word of another person, your spirit lifts.  When I say lifts, I mean the feeling of having a hundred pound weight cut loose from the ropes wound tightly around your chest, blood and life fills that hollow cavity of your chest once again and you experience the warm glow of the beat of hope. You actually feel the gentle breeze of the wing of a smile itching at the corners of your heart and slowly your mouth. And when you realize what that person has truly given you, you feel that smile dance and float its way to your eyes. That is when you know your soul has been released from that darkened prison and given permission to breath in the sweet air of freedom and you realize you have been given the honor of being truly touched by the kindness of another person.  

You have felt their impact and you become full again…your cup becomes full again.

To me that is what this week was all about. I am acutely aware with every fiber of my being of the loss of Grace. And still the pain of losing her is at times more than I can bear.   At the end of the day Thursday, after an emotional roller-coaster ride of a week, I came upon a poem that really summed up how I was feeling. I found it as I was sitting in the City Hall of Lumber City waiting to speak with the Mayor.

I was sitting there soaking up the stillness of the room and the lovely conversation I was having with my dear friend. During the quiet moments, I was rehearsing in my heart every word said to me that day, every hug offered to me, smile given, every tear shed. And it was like two tsunamis collided within my chest, heart and thoroughly throughout my being. The violent overwhelming sense of extreme loss and grief was met with the fierce force of human kindness, love and care. My cup was filled up. It is only after experiencing the deprivation of choice that you truly understand the value of freedom.

The same is true of inexplicable loss and grief. Anyone who has experienced disheartening tragedy knows the value of the hands that bring the fragrant ointment of comfort and healing.  I sat there feeling all these emotions and that is when I read the poem that brought pointed clarity to the churned mixture of memories new and old, notions that make my heart conflict with my head, and feelings that are too deep and sharp to fully comprehend. I understood that at the end of the day, after all is said and done, when my grief is weighed against my blessing, I can honestly say, “I am drinking from the saucer because my cup has overflowed!” **

There is no doubt true healing only comes from above. To experience the love of the Father, to know His love, fills the heart to overflowing and the soul can’t help but be glad. He made us and He knows exactly what we need, spirit, soul and body. As great as our God is I have come to realize, He is not enough. I know that sounds odd. Please bear with me.  He is God, our Father, and of course He is enough. But in His extreme love for us, His thought is MORE not just “enough”!  In His wisdom and perfection, He gave us the gift and light of each other.  His design is that we would not be alone.

His commandment was that He be FIRST! Not that He would be our all in all and not need one another. 

It is easy to get caught up in our everyday lives and forget the divine purpose placed within us. By God’s design we are needful to each other. The kind word spoken or the warm smile offered is no small thing. To the person dwelling in the dark corners, what may seem trivial and small is actually a window of light and hope. Within us is a contained treasure chest of wealth we cannot understand.
 
I look into the faces of strangers who are telling me about Grace, wiping their eyes and I know they cannot understand what they are giving me. It is a treasure more precious than gold. In that moment I am humbled by their kindness. My cup overflows. The light of their words and actions has pulled me up and out and I thank them, to the best of my ability.

I thank my Heavenly Father and I know I am now drinking from my saucer because my cup has overflowed.

As I sit here now, going back over my entire week, Friday was just like Thursday. Another dear friend sent me a picture first thing Friday morning of our Trojan High School Football Team’s helmet. And there in a gold circle is the name of our Grace. The image of that golden circle with her name on it worn proudly by those players still reverberates in the depths my mind and heart. The dear friend and Coach both tell me the players are honored to wear her name. But it is I who am honored. So much love and kindness has been given to me and my family. My cup is filled up once again. Many tears run unchecked down my cheeks but these are not tears of grief but of genuine thankfulness. My cup is running over. The existence of my life has changed with the passing of our Grace. She taught me so much through her life and the ones around me have taught me so much through her death.  You have taught me the importance of kindness and the value of what our words and actions can do inside a person. Because of you I am humbled and honored to say,” I am drinking from the saucer because my cup overflows!”  **(Drinking from the Saucer Poem ~ Author Unknown)

I read a blog recently about a family pet that wandered off and broke the heart of the young daughter which in turn broke the heart of the whole family. There was one portion of the story that caught my attention and brought my still healing heart to a sudden standstill.

The pet had been missing for a few days and while the mother clutched her child close to her breast, their hearts beating as one, the little girl lets it out, “God does loves us, doesn’t He, Mama?” (When you just want God to show up and answer your prayers by Ann Voskamp)

And I sat there holding my breath and gulped. What this young girl breathed from her innermost being from the place of her utmost pain, is what I believe we all question time to time. I noticed it was a question the young girl asked, not a statement she made. Oh, the goodness and innocence of the young heart. She did not state, “God does not love us Mama!” She did not place a judgment on God but rather revealed a vital component of our fragile heart and human condition. She wondered, am I lovable? Do I matter at all to God? Does He see me and my broken heart? I certainly have pondered this very sentiment. And, I have uttered this very question, many times, after Grace left us to be with her Lord and Savior. “God, do you love me? Because at this moment I do not feel loved at all.”

I read the next few words of the blog very slowly. Sure this sensitive, deep and discerning mother had just the right words to comfort her child’s broken yet hopeful heart. And maybe give me a glimpse or spark synapses of understanding to give vision and light into the fathoms of darkness I can’t seem to navigate or comprehend.  I am glad for the happy ending of the pet’s return and the little girl’s experience of God’s love for her, her family and pet, but what about when the end can’t be deemed “happy” in human terms?  What about when the answer to our deepest question, “Does God love me?” seems to be, “No”? “No” and your pet dies, “No” and you lose your job, your health, the relationship. “No” and you lose your spouse, parent, grandchild….or daughter. “No, and you lose your faith and trust in a God you cannot see or touch. What happens when there isn’t a bow at the end of your story but only weeping, darkness and a heart shattered on the floor?

This is when knowing the answer is different than understanding the answer. Of course we know the answer is always a loud and emphatic, “YES!” “Yes, God loves me!” Those of us who have tasted of His goodness and made to be partakers of His divine nature understand who He is. He, the creator of the Heavens and Earth and everything good in it, is Love. He doesn’t just love. He IS love. Understanding, not just knowing the answer is vital if I am to make it through the seasons of “No, you will not get what you are asking but Yes, I DO STILL LOVE YOU!”

Eric and I purposed in our hearts after Grace died not to ask why. But, ‘Why’ stayed at the forefront of my brain anyway. I kept ignoring it and stepping over it like a dirty penny in a parking lot. With resilience that dirty thought kept turning up so I kept looking the other way. When I contemplated asking “why?” to God, the only thought that kept resounding in my head was the memory of sitting down at the table trying to reason with my 14 year old upon hearing, “No, you can’t have that or do that”. I know firsthand what it is like to have your heart and motives challenged and questioned. I just refused go there with God. I understand from my time of being a parent that if someone or God Himself, sat at my dining room table, and tried to give me the answer of why, it would be like listening to someone speaking in a different language or listening to words that can only be heard at a certain decibel. And I would sit there, my head cocked to the side, trying to understand the foreign language but instead only howling at the unheard and misunderstood syllables that pierced my aching ears but did nothing for my aching heart.

No child likes to hear the words, “You will understand when you are older.” But, as adults, we know there is fundamental truth to those words. Sometimes the answers to our deepest questions cannot be contained in one tiny fragment of space and time, no matter how big it seems at the time. No matter how badly we want the answer…plead for it. Not surprisingly, it is the best of answers that unfold themselves, quietly and gently, mending our hearts as we walk with the ones we trust, the One in whom we trust, the One who loves us most.

Understanding the love God has for me has helped my navigation through the dark seasons of not feeling His love for me. Even when the answer is “No” I understand it is for my good and I choose trust. I do not walk away from the conversation like a rebellious teenager to go my own way, but rather sit at the table and commune, not asking why, but simply waiting and yielding my way to His way and His timing. Knowing His love is good. Understanding His love is better and has helped to conquer the very real but temporary feelings of my fragile heart.

Walking through this season, I have come to understand looking for answers to my deepest questions is like trying to find tiny pearl beads that have scattered from a very long but broken necklace- which at times resembles my broken life. The pieces have hit the ground, bounced and disappeared. And there I am, scurrying about trying to put it back together again, hoping nothing is lost. Searching and asking, crying or angry as I look underneath furniture and lift up rugs.  Frantically scouring the dark and dusty corners as I try not to lose the tiny beads I have found and gathered.   In those mired and tiresome moments I have forgotten there are not multiple answers to my multiple questions. And I certainly will not find them looking down or around. There is but one answer. And He is not as fragile as my beaded necklace nor broken life. Neither is He as complicated. He is simple. He is beautiful. Grace died and I did not get the answer I wanted and the feeling of God’s love for me shattered to jeweled bits as my heart was crushed with the weight of losing her. Regardless of the multitude of questions I could ask, I do not go to Him for the answers, I have come to understand through His love and grace, He is “The Answer”.

Greetings to the blogging world. As you may have guessed right off the bat, I am new to the blogging world but I am in great expectation it is wonderful and gratifying frontier. 

I have posted several things on Facebook and am jumping into blogging mid stream. I do not consider myself a poetic writer nor a profound thinker. But, I am inspired. I believe…. and hope you do not have to be an inspirational writer to create an inspirational blog. In my case, I hope I can just write about a life changing experience and about an inspirational person that brought that change.

Grief: a keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.

While that may the definition according to Webster, those words remain one dimensional, sparse and elementary in comparison to truly understanding the depths, convexes and concaves of the reality of the experience of grief.

When there are no words to speak during this time, I have found I can write. My expressions through the written word fall short of my feelings. Most of the time it is like a dam filled to the brim just to overflowing and it is only seconds away from bursting, but then a twig moves and a simple stream of water leaks out. The amount of pressure changes little, the bursting is still close, but there is hope. As long as the trickle of water continues…there is hope that the dam will not burst and cause phenomenal devastation to all those around. May that small trickle of water bring life and hope to all it touches. And eventually, in time, the pressure will ease from the dam and all will be well again.

This post and the ones that follow will be in honor and memory of my 20 year old daughter, Grace Erin Smith who on May 9, 2013 at 5:30 am, passed from this world into the next.

I could continuously say thank you for days and days but never say thank you enough to cover all the goodness and kindness we have experienced from this community, our family, friends and communities beyond! Eric and I are grateful beyond measure! Thank YOU!!

And, I could boast of Grace for days on end and never say all she is! …Grace continues to struggle for life but she is fighting so well. She still exudes nothing but grace, peace and confidence in her faith and in her God. It is humbling and inspiring to watch her faith in action! She is not lying in her bed, moaning and groaning, expecting God just to hand her a miracle. She is doing her part, even to her own hurt. She continues to throw-up but tries to drink and eat what she can, although it is very little. Certainly, it is not enough to sustain life. But, knowing the pain and nausea eating or drinking will cause, she still continues to do her part with a smile on her face and over-whelming kindness in her heart. Simply amazing!

She knows the tumors continue to grow, so much that she looks like she’s a few months pregnant but she is anchored in the fact she knows she will be healed. As I talked to her yesterday and told her how much I know her Heavenly Father is proud of her, how I know He is looking at her with a smile on His face because of her faith, tears streamed down my face. She asked, “Why are you crying Mama?” That is a very good question. I am overwhelmed with the love of my daughter, how proud I am of her, how pitiful her body looks but how strong her faith is. I have talked to my Father and confessed my weakness of not understanding her pain and suffering and wanting to be frustrated. But in an instant, when I thought of Grace and the goodness and love for her Father (with never and complaint or frustration in her heart or on her lips) I had to repent and simply ask, “Father, let me see like Grace sees!” And to His nature, His goodness shone down on me and I was lifted up in praise to the One who created Grace and loves her more than Eric or I possibly could. Sometimes it’s easy to inspire the ones who do not live with you. The ones who do not see the good, bad and ugly of behind closed doors. But let me be the first one to say, from one who lives with Grace and watches her constantly, she inspires me!

I talked with Grace Monday about her fight to live and where it comes from. The last thing I want is for her to be fighting for me or Eric. But she assured me she is fighting for her life because that is what is in her heart to do. She believes she has purpose here on this Earth yet to be fulfilled. Yesterday, she caught my arm as she teetered between waking and sleep, with groggy eyes she said, “For my 21st birthday I want me and a group of my friends to go to Panama City Beach!” I told her that sounded like a fun trip, sorry I was not invited! She mentioned it again before the night was over. While Grace sees the declining condition of her natural body, (she confessed in the wee hours of the morning after several bouts of throwing up and hurting that she knew her physical body was wearing out), she continues to believe she will be healed. We continue to stand with her! Thank you all for your continued prayers and constant expectation for what is to come! We do not live by what our natural eye sees but by the proceeding Word of God! God Bless You!

(What I received yesterday- Grace’s life is not being stolen by the Enemy. Grace is being held in the palm of her Father. She placed herself in God’s hand. She has given her life to Him. She is not in the hand of the Enemy. Her life is not taken, it is given. What the Father chooses to do with her is between Him and Grace. Grace does not belong to me and Eric. We are just His stewards. She belongs to Him. Our hearts have to remain at peace with what He chooses. If He holds her close and He chooses not release her and carry her on to be with Him, we will rejoice. If He holds her close and chooses to release her back to us, we will rejoice! To God be the Glory!)

Never the less, the preceding Word of God we keep hearing is, “Live, little Girl, LIVE!”

Phenomenon: : an exceptional, unusual, or abnormal person, thing, or occurrence

I am sure you have read Grace’s post as we journeyed home from Texas last Thursday/Friday. In her post she related the doctor told her if the chemo doesn’t work and the tumors continue to grow at the present growth rate, she would have approximately 6 to 8 weeks before the tumors take her life.

Well, when Grace said she wasn’t worried that wasn’t just inspiring words on a screen…. She meant it with her whole heart. After praying about the treatment plan over the weekend, she heard God tell her, “Wait on chemo.” So, she has. She was to start chemo yesterday but instead she has asked for prayer. Our wonderful sister in the Lord, Tammy Cason, is coming by our home to lay hands on her, anoint her with oil and pray over her. Grace was excited by the results which eased her pain tremendously for hours after Tammy left.

This is not a picture of one who has given up or given in. This is the picture of a true warrior who is holding her ground. This decision to wait was not an easy decision. When she found out chemo was available and she could get back on it so soon, she was looking forward to it just to ease her pain. So, she has not taken the easy way but she has chosen God’s way, which makes it the right way.

Needless to say, she is battling hard!! She remains in constant pain and is throwing up since Sunday. But she remains resolute in her faith and is not wearied in the process. I tell her constantly she is a PHENOMENON!! Where most would be clawing with desperation for chemo in the face at what is at stake, she looked at the situation and said…”Watch this!! I’m not even going to take chemo until my Lord releases me to do so!!”

I apologize for the lengthy update, but wanted to give the whole picture. Grace has asked for prayer and she needs it. She is battling so hard but I can honestly say she is battling WELL!!

(One quick excerpt from our conversation yesterday at the doctor’s office: After telling the doctor her plans to wait. In the face of the reality of her not feeling well at all…hurting and exhausted and throwing up and feeling nauseated all the time, I asked, “Grace, is there any place in you that is afraid? Are you fearful at all?” Her response, “Fearful about what?” At that moment I knew there was no fear in her but only faith. But I said, “Fearful about this not working, fearful about your pain, fearful about dying?” She looked over at me with this incredulous look on her face and simply said, “Pshhmf, uh, no!” Like I stated earlier, PHENOMENON!! God knows I love that girl!!)

Status Update By Gracie Smith
I was suppose to get chemo yesterday… But I heard The Lord say “wait on chemo” so we talk to my doctor about it and he fully supported my decision… But please keep me in you’re prayers! I’m battling hard.. Hurting all day, throwing up anything I eat… I feel like this is the hardest battle I have encountered this whole journey… But I’m still in Faith that I’m beating this! I’m just asking for prayer. Thank you everyone that is fighting with me!