happy birthday, deeann!

I remember when I met you the very first time at our church. . . and found out we were neighbors! You had just had your third child and I was a little newlywed who didn't know a single person in town. I had no idea then how much our friendship would grow, or how much you would shape my life, (or how much sweet tea I would end up consuming).





I watched you be an incredible mom to {in turn} incredibly happy children.





I watched you love your man.





I watched you find joy in the ministry that your home has become.





I watched you balance community, children, husband, and ministry with grace and enthusiasm and boundless energy.





I admired you - looked up to you - yep, I copied you. {Sweet tea? Yum, it's so good. How do you make that? Ohhhhhhh. Life has never been the same}





I'm not sure at what point we became friends.





But we did.





And wow, am I thankful.





Not sure how to put into words how thankful I am.



(I know, I know, I'm off the charts emotional this summer. Can't help it.)



How do you describe the kind of friend who



a) jumps up and down when you tell her that you're pregnant (#1)



b) dies laughing when she finds out your husband's reaction to #2 {he ran around the block to relieve stress. And he's not a runner.}



c) suggests you get a pregnancy test for #3. (not kidding. Actual conversation: "I just feel so rotten. I just can't get better. I hope I don't have cancer." Deeann: "I think you should go get a pregnancy test.") Annnnnnd, you were right.



How do I describe the kind of friend you can call while you're bawling and say - " my marriage is really stinking right now" and she's there in twenty minutes, sitting on your couch and crying with you? Can't really describe it, but you've been that friend.



How do I describe the kind of friend who visits your babies in the hospital, strings balloons around your front porch, brings you dinner, and then throws you surprise baby showers? Umm. . . you again.



Countless movie nights.



Tons of carpooling.



Answering 10,000 baby questions about Jacob.



Answering 8,000 baby questions about Cambria.



Listening to endless questions without trying to answer as I miss our little Gabe.



Coffee breaks.



Sunday dinners.



Buying the swimsuit I needed for me - when I couldn't make it to Younkers, or Penney's, or wherever - with my credit card - and then enjoying Famous Dave's at my expense. (ha ha - never going to let you live that one down.)



Painting our houses together.



Driving Daniel's stick shift truck for me so I could pick up my Salvation Army finds.



Watching our children grow up.



Helping me navigate the murky waters of toddlerhood. {Biting. Bedwetting. Bad Attitudes}



Bible studies.



Visiting shut ins.



Teaching me how to practically bless the lives of those around me.



You've taught me so, so much about being a woman. About being a mom. About making a home. About being a wife.



So many things I've learned from you.



You were there for me at the darkest hour of my life; you knelt on the floor in front of me as I held our little man and pressed your forehead against mine and cried out in anguish with me. You didn't run from my pain - you ran to it, and I needed you so bad.



I hope you know how many people are blessed by your life.



especially me.



Love you, Deeann.



You are a forever kind of friend.

shutting the world out. . .

. . . and remembering seven years ago. . .

choosing to spend our lives together. . .

and I'd do it all over again. . .

Happy Anniversary, babe. . . love you love you love you love you.

MFD Picnic - 2010

Strangely reminiscent of last year's union picnic, Cambria's modeling a cute bow. . . actually another self - haircut rescue. Can we all say deja vu?

{Lesson: Keep all scissors out of reach.}

I don't know why, but I was really scared to go to this event. I shouldn't have been. . . it was great and the kids and I even stayed after Daniel headed back to Station #2.

I think just seeing everybody all in one place reminds me of Gabe's funeral, and seeing the guys who were there that morning always makes my heart twist.

I'm not sure that will ever change for me. I see them now and flash back to standing in the street and being oddly aware of their horrified faces;

see them driving away in the ambulance with my husband and my son;

see the world go by again through those engine windows. . .

see them pacing in that trauma room with my husband, hanging onto him

feel them holding on to us

with their arms around our children

weeping with us

never leaving us alone

coming to our house on duty like a solemn rescue mission

to love us and make sure we had enough food and paperware to last til next year

Flowers

and flowers

and flowers. . .


That was all within two hours.


When people say the fire service is a family - it's true.


We love you guys!

Don't be fooled

Look at those gorgeous brown eyes.

That angelic face.

Cool chalkboard bookshelf & globe. (shamelessly copied out of Better Homes & Gardens)

Just think of snuggling up next to your little people with a mug of Starbucks and teaching them in the peace {*eye-rolling*} of your own home.

Dontcha just wanna homeschool?


{*more eye-rolling*}


Our first week of Kindergarten has been a challenge, not gonna lie.

It will get better. {please}

Teaching your kids at home is NOT for the faint of heart.

Trust me, I have tons of experience. My first homeschooled child is on his 3rd day of Kindergarten.

the darkness doesn't hide from Him

Did I even read the Bible before?

Or does it just seem completely different now?

Some stuff is piercing; crushing. I don't understand. I haven't studied. But it's hard to know. . . is this a broken promise?

. . .those who seek the Lord shall not lack any good thing. . .

God?

Gabe was a good thing . . . .

More tears to swallow yesterday morning hearing those promises out of Psalm 34. . .

Later.

Someday.

Light?

Understanding?

Comprehension?

Maybe only eternity will answer the cries of my heart.

I know enough about God to know that He is the definition of Love. Love doesn't break promises. So. . . I just don't understand His hand right now, I guess.

But look at this.

Wrapping my heart around this.

Clinging. Knowing. Living this.

If I say

surely the darkness shall cover me

even the night

shall be light all around me

. . .the darkness does not hide from Thee

. . .the darkness and the light

are both alike to Thee

from Psalm 139:11,12

He isn't hiding from our darkness.

He knows how dark it is.

He is with me in the dark.

And I love Him for that.

Hey Buddy. . .

I miss you on Sunday mornings.



{I miss you on Monday and Tuesday and Wednesdy mornings, too.}



I wish you and I were up together setting out yogurts for the kids.



Wish you were lookin' like a little hunk in your penny loafers and khakis.



I looked in your nursery cubby-hole at church this week for the first time. . . I think I thought maybe I'd find something of yours. But you aren't here, so there wasn't anything left. No little stray outfits or pacifiers.



You get to worship Jesus on Sunday mornings and be with Him. But you aren't with me and that's so hard for me, little man.



Lots of dripping tears for you this week.



I love you, Gabe.



Love,



Mommy

this hand is bitterness

.

This hand is bitterness -- we want to taste it

let the hatred numb our sorrow

The wise hand opens slowly

to lilies of the valley -- and tomorrow.

from Natalie Grant's amazing {Held}

I never understood the concept of hatred drowning out sorrow. . .

never had any reason to contemplate that.

When you grow up in an incredible family

marry a gorgeous guy

live in a beautiful home

have friends you don't deserve

receive the gift of three perfect children. . .

. . .that kind of existence doesn't negate the obvious stresses of life, but it also doesn't lend itself to. . .

bitter tears

crushing pain

confusion in relationships

broken hearts

anger at people who don't understand

bewildering loneliness

frightening loss of reason and balance

I am struggling with forgiveness tonight. . .

It's oh so much easier to let hatred numb the sorrow.

Irrational anger at ones who don't understand. But how could they?

Frustration with carefree people. Carefree. What does that feel like again?

Fury directed at stuff that doesn't matter. Let's fixate on how annoying it is that Cambria threw sand in the pool and clogged the pool filter. If I can stay annoyed, maybe I won't feel the pulsating grief.

Not angry with God.

How could I be angry at the Giver of Gabe's life?

I have cried out to the silent heavens, standing by his little grave, God. . . . whhhhhhhhyyyyyyyy?

And those stories you hear of people who are so incredibly submissive to the will of God in the face of unspeakable tragedy?

Yeah, not us.

There was a lot of ER hallway wall pounding from Daniel -- God, no, no, no, no, God! A lot of screaming no, no, no, no, God from me {in pillows, in the car with the windows rolled up, into his little fire hat}.

I've told God that it's too hard.

I've told Him that I don't want to do this.

But I am not shaking my fist at my Heavenly Father.

People, on the other hand. . .

I need so much grace for relationships right now.

I am so weak.

My flesh is so strong.

It is so tempting to nurse bitterness.

To be slow to forgive.

To allow wounds to fester instead of heal.

To close my heart to anyone who is less than superhuman. Our friends & amazing family - yes, you guys - you are superhuman. {everyone can't be superhuman? what?}

Yuck.

God - can You drown out the bitterness. . .

the anger

the hatred

the wounds that seem too deep to heal?

You can heal.

You are way strong enough to fix our broken hearts.

You can supply the oil of forgiveness.

My cup is so empty, Lord.

There isn't anything in my heart left to give. . .

. . . but You are the Giver of Life.

You are also the Giver of Eternal Life.

I love You for that tonight - the promise of eternity with You.

pizza margherita

Daniel is in the middle of 72 hours right now. . .

No fun to eat pizza by yourself, but something tells me this is pretty girl-y pizza. Not sure a guy would be a fan of fresh mozzarella pearls.

Oh yum. . . so, so good!

handful of Rhodes bread dough

large tomato

fresh basil

fresh mozzarella pearls

fresh ground salt & pepper

Pat dough into circle, layer with sliced tomato, cheese, and spices. Bake for 15 minutes at 385.

Dude.

Cambria, watching me squeeze key limes {for Loren's Key Lime Bread} and very impressed with the process:

"Du-u-u-de." [I think this is a frequent line of her daddy's.]

Jacob: [a little distracted, very condescending & adult - sounding]

"Cambria, really we don't say dude, you could say that's very interesting, or you could say i really like that, or wow but don't say dude, okay?"

Cambria:

"Oh, man."

Jacob: [relieved]

"That's much better."

With a brother like that, who needs parents?



In other news, I did this for a birthday party at my house last night - isn't it pretty?! I didn't want to take it down, but the storm last night blew the queen anne's lace all over the front yard, so. . . oh well.

Hope

I know that people are praying their hearts out for us. . .

but you guys must have all been praying in unison today.



Today - marks ten weeks without our little man.



Today is also the first day that I have not felt. . . destroyed.

Tomorrow may (probably will) be dark and crushing again, but today, God lifted the horrible pressure of grief from my heart, and I know it is because of the power of prayer, and people.

You guys are giving new meaning to the Body of Christ.

Ruth told me tonight that she has been praying that God will lessen the agony of the flashbacks. I feel that goosebumps are in order here, because, today, He has.

Tammy brought gifts today- beautiful books, for me, for the kids. . . listening, caring, praying.

Pam asked if I wanted peppers from her garden. . . well, sure, and when you bring your fresh picked peppers over, I will proceed to dump on you for an hour while you patiently sit on my couch and love me by listening.

So much hope, today.

Friends, lifting us up. People, giving of their hearts.

I am humbled and amazed by this kind of love.

{snapshots from today}

{pool time}
{displayed some book faves in a new way}

{actually cooked- it was easy, yes, but I actually enjoyed it}

{changed the roman shades in the kitchen & dining room windows}

{and I'm loving the new look}

beautiful ending

email to my friend Phoebe. . .

Today - I just have to share this with someone - was the incredible realization of God's Hand in a song I picked for Gabe's birth playlist. It's called Beautiful Ending, by one of my favorite girl-bands :-) and I just liked the melody and feel of the song, also that my pregnancy was ending (YAY!) and the ending of the pregnancy would be beautiful, I thought. (It was!) Yet now, the words to this song have incredible meaning next to Gabe's short little life - So tell me / What is our ending / Will it be beautiful / Will my life / find me by Your side / Your love is beautiful / At the end of it all I wanna be in Your arms.

Looking back, it seems like the weirdest song in the universe to choose to welcome a baby into the world, but I can hear that beautiful music reverberating through that delivery room as we brought that little guy into our family to love for such a short time - and it WAS beautiful. And the end - it was beautiful, too, and as peaceful, I think, as death can be. And he is in the arms of Jesus.

How can I not see the beautiful ending?

the difference between 15 and 17 is HUGE

Um-

I just earned the Lamest Big Sister Award for 2010.

New text from my not so little brother.

Hey, Hayley- I was reading your blog and thought I would let you know that I'm turning 17 on Friday. ;)

So. . . I thought about going back and changing "15 year old brother" to "16 year old brother" but then that seemed a little lazy. I think that large of a mistake deserves it's own correction.

teeth grinding (I told you I'm becoming a social misfit)

And I'm not apologizing to him on my blog, because , see, we do real relationships in my family, remember, so I'll be apologizing in person on Friday, doing some penance, and searching for a really nice peace offering.

not type a. . .

I spent some time today searching for blogs and resources on infant loss and SIDS. . .

Lots and lots of sites for miscarriage/stillbirth. . .

. . .not too many for making your coffee / taking a shower / going upstairs and finding your baby in Heaven.

I want to know how other parents deal with the shock. I feel like I am still reeling.

I know that some think we are getting over it or going on; I don't think they realize that we are still trying to wrap our minds around the fact that Gabe even died.

I wrote a friend the other day . . .we are so lame right now. Thank you for inviting us. . .we do want to get together and we love you guys. We so don't know how to be. We feel like we went from type-a happy people to social misfits. We want to spend time with you- if you can stand to be around us!

I tried to express this to Marlys the other night as she rescued me from another social event, allowing me to escape to the refuge of their home.

I'm so sorry that I'm such a sponge!

What would we do without the people who have let us be sponges, absorbing their strength and love and care and faith?

We wouldn't be able to cope.

Not that I would say I'm coping well - what does that mean, anyway?

I am not coping. I am being carried by a strength greater than my own.

no more tears

Happy Birthday, Mom.

My family - we don't really have a tight blogging / facebook / texting circle.

We like techie stuff. . . as evidenced by the dialog below between my 15-year-old brother and myself:

TEXTS FROM 7/21:

Dad got a blackberry it is sweet :]

Me- via text: My my my- and to think when i lived at home we still had a rotary phone- the times how they do change. :-)

Immediate reply: Dad got a blackberry it is cool!

Me: Um. . . yes, you just mentioned that. Lol- must be the big news!

So we obviously appreciate technology and how it can connect people, but we're more into the real relationship thing, like actually driving insane amounts of miles and really being together.

Which is why this birthday post is really not to my mom, because it will probably be a week before she reads it. This is really more just to tell you, the world out there, how much I love her and how glad I am that God gave her to me.

So here are a few reasons I love my mom.

She loves making the ordinary special. This would mean. . .

pancakes decorated like snowmen

using the burnt "V" in the yard from our waterslide as the catalyst for "V"ictory Day Camp (just us kids, but boy was it fun)

letting me eat green grapes {in a little plastic bowl} in the dark coat closet with a flashlight (oh, the simple pleasures that a four year old delights in)

"pajama runs" (this involved going to the car wash, usually, and then ice cream)

She values the role of a stay-at-home mom.

She loves God.

She reads His Word faithfully.

She pours her life out for others.

She opens the doors of her home to literally hundreds of people each year.

She shows love to those that don't have anyone to love them - yeah, society's rejects.

She loves Orange Cappuccino.

She will drop anything and come immediately if one of us needs her.

She is an amazing grandma. . .

I love her.

Just wanted you all to know that.