It Can't Rain All the Time

That's what I have to keep telling myself, at least. Despite all the extremely difficult days my family's been through lately, I have to remember that sooner or later, the sun has to peek out from among the clouds.

Sometimes a ray of sun takes on the form of a good conversation with a cherished friend, or a bottle of wine and a funny card brought over by that same friend. (Thanks again, Tina.)

Other times it comes in the form of an outpouring of generosity from friends and church family who, despite how dumb your woes seem to be in the grand scheme of things, come rushing to your aid. If it wasn't for them, our church website, family website, and a massive amount of data (some super-critical, some not so much) would be lost.

Building websites from scratch is a royal pain (to hear my husband tell it), but from the looks of things, Dean's going to be able to salvage most of the Roots website data from the failed hard drives. A few things may have to be re-done, but nowhere near what he was thinking before. And now with new hard drives and soon-to-be-refurbished drives in place, we'll have backups of the backups of the backups!

A lovely patch of sun came out yesterday in the form of time spent with my cousin, Ryan and other family members. We haven't hung out much at all, outside of hospital vigils and a depressing funeral service. He wanted to make me a margarita, which I declined. So of course, Dean made me one anyway, but it was just too bitter. So Ryan made me another one, this time adding Sprite or something to it (???). Anyway it tasted like a soda pop! I'm not sure how he did it exactly, but it was good. Until he added another shot of lime something-or-other. Then it was back to semi-gross. Oh well. I drank half of it. The rest of the evening passed by in a happy blur. However, despite what the pic to the right shows, we did not drink the Everclear. It was purely thrown in for silliness.

Anyway, as I'm trying to say in a not-so-eloquent manner, my family is trying to put the pieces back together and keep moving one foot in front of the other. However, my mom, Aunt Bobbi, Aunt Melinda and cousins are still in need of constant prayer support and encouragement. Please keep them in your minds and hearts. Their sadness and grief far exceed my own.

My son turned 11 years old on the 5th. That was also a nice, sparkly ray of sunshine. We had a very simple family party--cake, little gifts. He'll have his actual party-party this weekend. (Tons of wild 'n crazy boys coming..yikes!)

I can't believe how old they're getting. Sierra will be 14 next month (gag, choke) which hurts just to put into print, much less accept as reality. But speaking of all this--growing older, etc--I find it so interesting how time stops for no one. Whenever I'm in the midst of grieving the loss of someone I love, I think that the whole world should just stop and take notice. Why must the world and all the inhabitants thereof not just take a moment and stop what they're doing and grieve right along with me? How can snappy TV commercials be allowed to air? How can people go around smiling and having a good time?

It just seems to me that the world's perpetual motion is almost like a slap in the face. Mocking you and making you feel even worse.

But then, almost inperceptively, that constant flow of time becomes a sort of aid in itself. It doesn't take the pain away, but it does provide something else to focus on. At least for a moment. The sadness tends to envelope everything you do for a very long time (even the rest of your life), but for just a moment, the world has a way of shifting your thoughts and focus off your pain.

Well, that's my philosophic moment for the day!

I guess I should get back to work and focus on what needs to be done. My routine's nowhere near "on track" these days, but I'm trying to get it back. I did a short workout this morning, which is one of the many things I've been avoiding lately. (And my rear end's growing swath is a testament to that fact.)

Even though it's pouring down rain right now (literally), I've got my list on the table next to me, and plan to check off every single one of my tasks. I'm determined to have a productive day and make the choice to be happy.

The Hourglass

The Hourglass has returned.

Locking itself into position, the Hourglass begins pouring out its unrelenting stream of cold, harsh sand over our heads. We've been under the Hourglass before. We can't let it do its work again...

Angrily, we beat our fists against the sides of our prison. "Let us out!" But it's no use. We're trapped. Powerless. Unable to escape.

Wild with panic, we climb on top of one another in a desperate attempt to stop the sand's flow. "Whose hands are large enough to cover the hole?" One after the other, we slam our palms over the opening. "Let me try! I can do this!" But each attempt is a rueful failure. The sand stops for no one. "There must be something we can do! There must be something we haven't tried!"

A large crowd of friends gathers on the outside. They line up and begin pushing against the ominous enclosure with all their might. "Don't worry! We will turn it over!" they shout confidently. But their combined strength is no match for the Hourglass...it's much too heavy. Its walls far too thick.

They stand back, defeated....Expressions of sympathy cloaking their faces. "So sorry..." they whisper. "So very, very sorry..."

Cruel, heavy granules continue to blanket us, layer upon layer. The sand's wretched grasp is suffocating... impenetrable. "No, no, no!" Our rising fear pulsates against the glass in time to our heartbeat...It won't be much longer now. We've danced this dance too many times before.

After the last grain of sand falls, the Hourglass grants our freedom. It releases us in a painful explosion of grief, anguish, and sorrow...our hearts just as shattered as the glass itself. Waves of anger wash over us. Anger against the Hourglass...anger against ourselves. "I should've done something more...should've done something more..." The mantra pounds itself deep into our minds.

Bruised, bloodied and sore, we help each other up off the ground just as we have many times before.

Seeking solace in the arms of solitude, we walk away from the tragic scene weeping softly."It's over. It's over..."

That is, until the day a new Hourglass arrives, entombing us once again...

Happy Birthday, Ethan!

This is one of his "smaller" baby pictures. He was 20 lbs by the time he was 3.5 months old.

For at least a year, this is was how he'd go to sleep at night.

We'd put him to sleep but he'd always crawl out of bed, dragging his things with him--a cup of water, book, blankie, pillow--and crash at the edge of the hallway.

He would stay there until we went to bed a few hours later.

Then like clockwork, he'd creep up into our bed in the middle of the night.

He did not like sleeping without us.

"Bob the Builder! Can we fix it?" Man, he LOVED that show!

My "heavenly" 3 year old son.

With the cupcakes he made (with a little help from Mom) for his 4th birthday.

With big sister, Sierra up in a tree.

Six years old with 2nd cousin, Titan. He still adores Star Wars!

The Pirate Birthday--7 years old. "Yo ho, yo ho! A pirate's life for me!"

My beautiful son,

May the LORD bless you and keep you safe; physically, spiritually, emotionally, mentally.

May you grow to love Him more with each passing day, and eagerly seek His face.

May your heart remain soft, and your spirit teachable.

May you be blessed in everything you do, both now and always.

May you always hold fast to your convictions, and never sway under pressure.

May you be a bold and dazzling light to your generation, leading thousands to the LORD.

I love you, Sunshine. Happy birthday...

One Year Today

A year ago today, everything in my life changed.

Not one of the 365 days that have gone by have I not thought about baby Caleb. Not a single day has passed where I didn't think about what I could've done differently. Not a day passes that I don't miss him.

I realize there's no going back. No way of turning back the clock. But oh, how I wish I could do just that.

And while my memories still hurt, I know in time they will heal.

Through all of this, God has shown me tremendous mercy and grace.

He has allowed what happened for some yet-unknown purpose. I don't know why He chose me to be a part of it. I honestly wish He hadn't. But I have to admit, that I'm just now finally getting a taste of the peace that has evaded me for so long. Peace that only comes from acceptance, and a willingness to move forward--through the pain.

I miss you, Boo-Boo.

So Lord, if you happen to read this, please give Caleb a little hug and kiss for me. Oh, and sing Itsy Bitsy Spider, too. That was his favorite. And watch out when you take the diaper off. He seemed to smile widest when he was peeing in the open breeze. :o)

When God Closes a Door, He Opens a Window...

And my window keeps opening a little more each day.

I've been offered an amazing opportunity today. One that would change my life in a profound and beautiful way.

I won't go into detail yet, except to say that this is something that I've been wanting to do my whole life.

If this opportunity should prove to be right for both me and my family, I'll fill you in after I accept it. I have a lot to pray about first.

But until then, please join me in prayer as I consider the option, and seek wisdom to follow the right path.

The Sunshine Behind the Clouds

I've had some somewhat-good news, and some even-better news today.

Things are starting to look up around here, and I thank the Lord for His goodness, mercy, grace and provision.

At times it feels as though I can't possibly take anything more, but despite it all He's there, holding my hand. Telling me to keep looking up toward Him, not down at my problems. I have to remind myself of that constantly.

And although nothing is yet final, I'm able to at least catch a tiny glimpse the sun as it begins to peek out from behind the black cloud that has cast it's shadow over me for so long.

Please keep on praying for me; for all of us.

Feeling Adrift

Seems like every time I turn around, some new calamity has befallen upon the heads of my family members, or upon my precious friends. I don't know what's going on, aside from the Governor of Hades having a field day.

Shake-ups within our congregation have left us all scratching our heads. Rattled friendships have left me feeling numb. Increasing pain and health problems for family members give me much to consider. Planning for our upcoming vacation makes me feel apprehensive. Hearing pain within the voice of a friend splinters my heart. Fearing what may be coming around the next corner plagues my thoughts.

I'm walking through a new chapter in my life. One that's completely new and utterly frightening. But no matter how I got here-- no matter how painful the journey, I'm blessed to have been forced to this place where I must live each hour by faith alone.

And I'm finding that the more I seek His face, the closer I come to finding it.

And in the end, maybe that's what it's all about.