A Time To...

Last week, I found myself smack in the middle of two very extreme realities that we mere humans have a hard time even beginning to wrap our head around.

Life and Death.
Creation and End.
Hope and Despair.
Joy and Mourning.

Experiencing all of these in less than an hour was brutally overwhelming, yet refreshingly raw.
Just real.

My uncle battled a tough fight with multiple myleoma. We all watched as he so slowly, then suddenly much more rapidly, died before our eyes over the last couple of years.

As my husband and I had an unavoidable spectator's seat in this, we were nudged to discuss big realities in our own lives, in our family dynamic, in humanity itself; we were able to mourn while living.

But even with the somewhat blessing of being prepared for this personal tragedy, we still weren't.

With a coffin in front of us, it still hit hard as I watched my aunt crying over her best friend, my teenage cousin casually conversating with his dad. Saying final goodbyes.

We weep when we see a loved one lifeless, like Jesus Himself did when he saw his friend Lazarus. They're right here with us, but not here.

We weep also when we see a baby on a screen full of life. They're not yet here with us, but so very here.


We had to schedule an ultrasound a month in advance. You know, the big one. Full bladder. Gender revealed. Hours on a table. Goo on top of goo. After going back and forth, we decided to keep the appointment. Straight from the cemetary, my husband and I drove directly to the doctor's office, with just minutes to spare.

Him in a dark suit, me a black maternity dress, pearls, mascara smeared. We entered the dark room and made small talk with the smiley technician. I lift up my layers of black and got ready for the familar. But this, though familar, never gets old.

The vivid pumping of the heartbeat, the little toes, the exaggerated squirms, the perfect lips, the nose.

"There's the baby's legs right there and it looks like..."
"A girl," I answered myself, an all-knowing veteran at this point.
My husband in shock and awe, still and again. Me with tears streaming quietly down my cheeks.

The same tears from just an hour earlier, but not. More like tears to wash away tears.

Life in the midst of death. A new creation in the midst of an end. So much hope in the midst of despair. True joy in the midst of mourning.

Really, what Christ offers us all.


At the funeral mass, my brother went to the altar and read these ancient, holy words:

"There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

 a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,     

 a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,    

 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,  

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, 

 a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,    

 a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,      

a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace."

-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

When those times above are juxtaposed so closely in life that they overlap seasons, moments really, our humanity itself can overwhelm us. 

But to have a God who is sovereign over it all is all. Everything in everything.

~~~

To donate in memory of my uncle and in honor of my cousin's future, please click below:

Joe Jr. Fund

Keep Christ

 

 
"Keep Christ in Christmas" some like to picket. But what about

keeping Him in your today, tonight, tomorrow?

Keep Christ always.

Home Sweet Home

In this season, for the first time in my life, my only job, my full-time endeavor, is being a household manager (aka: stay-at-home momma). Ironically, our family is living with Mima and Pipa at the moment, without a place to call our own. Just days before closing on a house this summer, our mortgage fell through with no chance of reapplying for at least 6 months. Our old place was packed and ready to go before it all fell through, but we put it all in a POD and now everything we own is sitting in the driveway at my in-laws. We are so grateful for being able to stay here while we sort everything out. However, I can't help but to be reminded everyday that the time I decided to be "home" completely full-time, we're without an actual home.

We've all heard the saying or have a grandma-embroidered hankie declaring "Home is where the heart is", but this phrase has rung more true to me in the last few months than ever before. Between being forbade the opportunity to own a home right now, to swallowing our pride and moving back in with our parents, to losing a great friend, to watching houses foreclose all around us, to losing a baby we'll never meet here on Earth - my idea of "home" and what that actually means has slowly been reconfigured. Our hope, our happiness, our peace, can't be found in walls or property or anything else in this world. There's so much more.

Because of this transitional period, at the last minute and with some dragging of feet, we decided it'd be best if I home-schooled Baileigh this year (more like home-preschooled). While it's only ABC's and 123's at this point in her academic career, this was never something I desired to do, or really even gave much thought. But she and I both would tell you it has been great. At our small, Christian academy in the dining room, she does all the fundamentals, but also memorizes a Bible verse and a praise song every month. Our first month here, she was confused, waiting to move to this new house she thought we had bought. So we focused on the theme of "home" in September and what the Bible says about it. Just the other day, while I was considering the rent vs. own arguments, I said to Baileigh with all seriousness, "what was that bible verse you learned a couple months ago about the house of the Lord?" " It's Psalm 23, verse 6, Mom!" she shouted from the other room. I opened up my Bible and laughed out loud when I saw she had it exactly right. And then I read it...

"Surely your goodness and love will follow me

    all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord

    forever."

I wish I could give you my big AHA moment on it, but to be honest, I'm still working on it. I hinted to it with my last post, trying to wrap my head around losing our unborn baby, and I try to teach my four-year-old the big-picture, but my troubled adult mind reminds me of all sorts of doubts and worries. How quickly I forget. But here is a prayer I wrote months ago during our transition attempting to overrule my concerns through the Word of God-


"No matter where I go, You and Your goodness, love, and blessing come with me, now and for the rest of my life. And from now until eternity, YOU ARE MY HOME and my hope. YOU are what fills my cup, and it overflows because of your love...Lord, you've taught me through this obstacle that it doesn't matter where we physically call home. What town, what state, rent vs. own, or even living with our parents. It's been humbling and eye-opening, but at the end of the day, our hope, and rest, and confidence are in You and not where we live..." 

This was a moment of clarity for me that came only after going over Psalm 23 over and over again at home-preschool. And honestly, it flees from me so easily. So I'm writing it again, reading it again, praying it again, and even sharing it now, until I can declare it daily, sincerely, whole-heartedly. My dwelling place is in the Lord, and that's good enough for me!  

Crazy Hope & Crazy Peace

To me, writing serves as personal reflection, self-teaching, and even prayer. It takes all my chaotic dancing thoughts out of my brain and lines them up for me to see. And if my thoughts can encourage or lift someone along with me, then that's just awesome.

I haven't been able to write in months, not because my mind's been empty, but simply because my husband hijacked my laptop to another state. It's been since June, but I was finally reunited with it this week. Ironically, the last few months have probably been the biggest whirlwind of emotion for me in years. So it probably saved you all a million boo-hoo blogs :)  But without a laptop on hand, I was forced to go directly to the Father without much chance of collecting and organizing my thoughts. So many of my prayers these last couple months came out only as eloquent cries of "WHY!?" 

But at the end of the day, I probably won't know that answer, maybe not at the end of the month, or even my lifetime. But regardless, we need to hope and trust in God's will. It's good and perfect! (Romans 12:2) We aren't. Even our best intentions or most beautiful hopes can not compare to His big-picture purposes. But even with His grand, incomprehensible will in mind, He still cares about our hearts and what we're asking for. Psalm 37:4 - "Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." 


But notice how that's not the other way around, it's not...when he gives you the desires of your heart, then take delight in Him, right? We are to praise Him and trust Him with delight, even in the midst of chaos, before we have an outcome. I told you writing is my way of teaching and reminding myself, so I'm right there with you, it's not easy! But He's got us in his arms and we need to find peace in that. Peace that no matter what, He's got it. But for me, it's been finding some balance between having crazy hope in what can happen and crazy peace with whatever happens. We need both...Hope & Peace - simultaneously. And in Christ's arms, we are given that always. I want to take delight in that everyday, no matter the circumstance around me and praise Him in advance for my hopes and His promised peace.

Praise the Lord; praise God our savior!  
For each day he carries us in his arms. (Psalm 68:19 NLT)