At a midnight showing of the new Batman movie a cowardly murderer entered the theater, threw out canisters of tear gas, and started shooting people. At the time I am writing this, at least 12 people are dead and as many as 50 were injured. It took place in my hometown of Aurora, Colorado, at the mall I near where I grew up. I have seen a number of movies there, even a few with Heidi. That was my stomping grounds and I still know that area well. It makes me sick to think about it.
Since I moved to MN for college, there have been a number of high profile mass murders in Colorado. The first was the Chuck E Cheese killings 1993, which was closest to me since my good friend Duane worked there and left work 20 or so minutes before it happened. The following summer two teenagers were killed during a robbery at the drive in theater blocks from my house. The music pastor at my family's church and his friend were brutally murdered in a case of mistaken identity in 1998. Columbine was less than a year later and then the YWAM and New Life Church shooting a couple years back. I just keep thinking "not again" every time something happens.
I am afraid that our society is becoming more violent every day and these incidents will just keep happening. Saying "not again" will just keep happening.
There are many reasons that our society has spiraled into violence and I will not get political here. The reasons are deeper than that. Our society's moral core is compromised. There is only one solution. We need Jesus. Only calling on Him and following His commands and giving up our selfish ways will bring about change. The solution is simple but not easy.
Now I need to take a deep breath, hug my boys a whole bunch when they wake up from their naps, and pray for Aurora, Colorado.
I was cleaning out some files on our computer this afternoon and found our birth plan for when Jackson was born. Pretty funny stuff. Boy was I clear. Leave nothing to chance. I even had a code word for if and when I wanted drugs. Of course, nothing went as we expected.
I think I will save it and put it in his scrapbook. Well, I guess first I would need to buy and start a scrapbook for him and then put it in there. Perhaps a box. Yes, a box will do. :)
Well, the time has come for me to branch out and start my very own blog. One that is all about me rather then those cute little boys that always follow me around. For realz, where did they come from? And why am I so tired all the time.....?
Seriously though, I have started a new blog, one where I can focus a little more on the new direction God is guiding me in and leave a little more breathing room for Tim to write about the Broncos and the littles. :)
Don't worry, it's an amiable farewell. I will still check in from time to time, I'll just be a "guest blogger" from now on! Hard to believe we have been using this blog for so long. You would have thought we'd be more proficient now.....no such luck. I think I need a web class, but I digress.
Dad died 9 months ago and I have been experiencing a "pocket of grief" lately. To commemorate this day, I will be attending a funeral of a dear friend who was only 36 and leaves behind husband and three small sons.
I am so over this. Cancer sucks. I am ready to start actually seeing some miraculous healings. I didn't actually know Preethi very well until she received her diagnosis. At that point, I entered into prayer for her healing with all the faith I had and through that process of praying for her with a small group of faithful women, I got to know her very well.
My heart is broken. I feel numb. And I wait.
I wait for a loving, compassionate God to sort through my confusion with me one day at time. It's all I can do.
Today I am thankful for a God to can handle me when I am at my most raw. It's not pretty, but He's not scared.
Thanks for your comments on that last post, friends.
This morning, we are "bedside Baptists." Especially funny since we aren't even Baptists...
While the twins were napping, Tim took Jackson for a little walk and I was left with a quiet house - such a tremendous gift. I quick cleaned up the kitchen, folded some clothes and snuck outside for a little time with the Creator.
I find it encouraging to be reminded that "Hell works the hardest on God's saints. The most worthy souls will be tested with the most pressure and the highest heat, but heaven will not desert them." (Streams in the Desert) In case you missed that last part, heaven will not desert them. Praise be to God.
I certainly don't feel like the most worthy of souls, but I do feel tested right now. My test is hearing from God in a painful and confusing time without my "sometimes middleman." I realized that Dad was what I want to call my "sometimes middleman." It was just so easy to go to him for wisdom, advice, counsel, etc. because he seemed to always have godly counsel to give.
At times, its easier to phone a friend, or a dad in my case, than it is to seek God and wait until His answer comes. It always comes, but not necessarily in my timeline. Without our go-to guy, Tim and I have often felt like we're left without a friend to call, so to speak. The truth however, is that we are not deserted. Heaven has not deserted us and in fact, our very best resource is closer than ever.
I, without a doubt, believe that Dad had more to teach me, more to explain, more fathering to do, but God, in his infinite wisdom, allowed Dad to come home regardless of that. Apparently God considered us capable of hearing from Him without our "sometimes middleman."
So where does that leave us?
Well, it leaves me in a place of thankfulness. I am thankful that my dad taught me how to seek God before he died. He taught me how to stand in faith in the face of hopelessness. He taught me the best lesson he could, to know God and be known by God. For that I will be forever thankful.
After sharing my last post, a few of you have shared your current struggles with us and its so refreshing to know that none of us are alone! Stand strong, Beloved, and know that heaven has not deserted you. He hears your prayers and your answer, your victory, is coming!
Typically, I make an effort to keep my mouth shut if I don't have anything nice to say. I apologize in advance. For today, we'll call it complaining venting. I may live to regret this post...we'll see. Don't judge me. Well, go ahead, I can't stop you anyway.
Lately I have been feeling a bit like I've lost a taste for life. Getting together with friends falls a little flat. Tim and I haven't been on a date in months, each day drags on until bedtime and then I don't really want to do anything except veg out.
I still have goals and aspirations and there are dreams that God has given me that I want to work towards, but finding the motivation for that is hard these days. This is a year to dream and I want to dream big. God loves dreamers! Especially dreamers who are do-ers.
Maybe I need to join a twins support group. No seriously, there's one that meets in N. Mpls, probably not far from here. I might go. Next fall. I'm not procrastinating, that's the next time they meet.
I know most mothers of small children find themselves self-medicating from time to time with media, food, wine, etc. We all do. It feels good at the time to eat that whole bag of dark chocolates and watch back-to-back episodes of Mad Men. All things in moderation.
The trick of it is that self-medicating never feed the soul. And that's what I know I need in order to get my groove back. I need encounters with God if I am to survive this season. There is no amount of wine or Modern Family that can accomplish that for me.
If we were good friends and you caught me at a candid moment, I might tell you that there has never been a time in my life when I have wanted to drink, smoke and curse more. (In no particular order.) I will say that I made a vow that I will never smoke another cigarette again. I won't tell you when I made that vow. You're on a need to know basis. And maybe we're not that good of friends.
After the twins came along and Dad's illness progressed, Tim and I found a couple of wines that we really enjoy and about once a week, we enjoy them. It doesn't help me process the mountain of grief I feel over losing one of my best friends, but I still enjoy it. Drinking wine makes me feel grown-up. Silly I know, but it does. Considering that I am still astonished when I look around and realize that I am the mama to these 3 beautiful babes and that I am indeed in charge, maybe I need more wine!
We all know that sometimes it feels like life sucks you dry. And sometimes it really does suck you dry. And that sucks. And I have no answers or cliche sayings that will make it better for you or for me. But I want to share a song with you. Music is powerful and this song has really encouraged me this past month. Jackson and I listen to it over and over (and over) in the van and he calls it "our song." That kid is too cute.
This may not be the best version of it, but give it a listen and really listen to the words because it's truth she's singing about. So whether its grief, money, infertility, a crazy duplex, twins, family, illness, your job, or all of them, I pray that God would give you eyes to see His truth in the midst of your pain.
Three years ago today, Heidi, Baby Jack, and I were in Monument, Colorado learning how to be missionaries. It was an incredible training but we were haunted the entire time by the thought that the Lord did not want us to go to Senegal any longer. A few months later we had resigned from the Navigators and did not know what to do next. We had spent three years getting ready and then we did not go. It was a terribly painful time of our lives. My lowest point came on Christmas Eve of 2009. I was working at Costco, collecting shopping carts in a blinding snowstorm all day. Since then I have settled into a better job, we moved into a house that we love, and added twin boys to our family. But we still think about Senegal.
I cannot speak for Heidi but I think about Senegal all the time. We don't know why the Lord changed the plan and perhaps we never will. Enduring the death of Heidi's Dad and birthing twins in Dakar would have been tough, but I am not sure either of those things are the reason we did not go. We loved the team that we would have joined. They are three fantastic families and sometimes I ache thinking about how much I would have loved to serve with them. I still cannot bring myself to wear the Senegalese soccer jersey that I bought in Kebemer. The sadness is still too close to the surface. I know how hard life can be in Africa and there are times when I feel relief thinking about broken down trucks and 100+ degree weather and long days learning a new language, but I still feel sad. We know we made the right choice and someday I will wear my jersey again. In the meantime, I will pray for the Mashburns, Ketchums, and the Herzbergs and hope to see them on home assignment. And I will continue to think about Senegal.
A few months back, in honor of my friends Jeff and Jaime McQuaid, who have twins, I posted some thoughts on being a parent of twins. Today I will continue my thoughts in bullet points.
T-Bone (Theodore) is starting to walk on his own. He is still a little unsure of himself but is getting the hang of it. Beck is still only walking when he can hold on to objects. However, Beck crawled first and T-Bone did not crawl for several weeks after Beck started. When Beck would crawl from a room, T-Bone would be stuck there all alone and look very sad. Only with twins do you notice the little changes since they are contrasted to each other.
When the twins became mobile, life got much more difficult. The bathroom became the most challenging room in the house. They consider it to be a place of joy and wonder. We have to constantly keep the door closed or T-Bone will unravel the toilet paper or splash his little hands in the toilet. Beck likes to do those things too, but does not seem to enjoy it as much as T-Bone. The hardest part is getting both of them out of the bathroom since they can crawl so fast. So you have to grab one and carry him to the hallway and try to grab the other and get him out before the first one crawls back in. They seem to have worked out a system between them that makes it tough to get them out of the bathroom.
Meals are also a challenge. Instead of one child pitching his food on to the floor, there are two. Their seats are next to each other and if one starts throwing food, we'll take it away and give it to the other. However, the first one can often just grab the food from his brother tray and pitch that on to the floor. There is a huge mess after every meal. I will not miss that part of this stage of their lives.
They are so cute and cuddly and I know that they will not be this size for long so I try to hold them as much as possible. The problem is that once you pick one up, the other also wants up. When the one on the floor holds his little arms up to me but I can't pick him up since I am holding his brother, my heart snaps right in half. My solution to this problem is to sit on the living room floor and let them mob me. I can cuddle both at once that way. There is nothing quite like cuddling two babies at once.
Their personalities are starting to show up. At night, when we put them to bed, Beck will grab his lovey, stick his thumb in his mouth and look content while T-Bone tries to find ways out of his crib. It looks like Beck is saying "finally! Some time alone." While T-Bone is upset because stuff is going on in the rest of the house and he is missing it.
These little boys are a lot of work but we would not trade them for the world. Every day we thank God for trusting us with these precious babies.
It was 1 year ago this past weekend that we learned of the highly aggressive form of prostate cancer that my Dad had. One month, he seemed fine and then before we could turn around, he had terminal cancer and then, he was gone. It all seems like such a blur.
Lately, I have found myself pulling back dramatically from blogging/facebook/email, etc. While God is faithful with reminders of His goodness, my new motto has been: if you have nothing positive to say, say nothing. No one wants a "Debbie Downer" after all. And most days, I need a little boost. Actually, it was getting pretty bad when it dawned on me that perhaps I had moved into the depression phase of grief. If there was one....I wasn't sure. I did a little research and sure enough. At least my apathy, weariness, and overall grumpiness could be credited to that. Reading through the stages of grief proved very affirming to me. Both Tim and I have felt a shift as we are settling into the "new normal" without Dad and I found comfort in knowing that we aren't alone in what we are feeling in this process.
We have finally started to reconnect with the outside world on a regular basis these past two weeks and have started entertaining again. That said, I am exhausted and think I need a break already! Oh how the mighty have fallen... When we were support raising, a typical week included entertaining at least 4 nights a week. Easy-peasy. Not the case anymore. Still worth it, but more work.
I don't have much else to say, just wanted to break the silence a bit and remind everyone that we are still here, plugging away. Life is in a challenging phase for right now. We are SO thankful for these cutie-patutie boys, even if they keep us on our toes. The Lord continues to challenge us to trust Him more and in scary new ways, which I guess is a compliment, since it would seem He thinks we can handle it. One day at a time, folks, that's all we can do. And that's all He asks of us.
Please pray for our duplex and for the tenant we are evicting. Eviction is quite costly and we hate to interrupt someone's life in that way. Thanks.
Heidi and I are big on nicknames. We rarely ever call each other by name and almost never call the boys by their actual names, except sometimes in public. There are people we know who don’t like using nicknames and only call their children or spouse by their given name. If that is what they like, that’s cool, but Heidi and I roll with nicknames. Jackson is mostly called the Pookie or sometimes just Pook, but he used to be called Baby Jack, a name given by his then four year old cousin, Carver. He is also called ribcage (he hates eating dinner for some reason and is a skinny little guy) and other random names that don’t typically stick for long. Beckett and Theodore are certainly not immune to nicknames. I call Beckett Baby Beck or just Beck most of the time but he also earned the name Butterbean because he was so chubby before he started crawling. Somewhere along the line Heidi called him Pfeffernusse, which is a german cookie, and that name stuck, too. Most nicknames don’t make it outside of the family but Theodore is known now to many as T-Bone. It’s funny to me when a friend or family member calls him that. It seems to fit because he is mostly bald and stocky and seems to have a high pain tolerance. The same thing that would cause Beck to cry does not phase T-Bone. I wonder what other names we will come up for with these little boys.
I want that.
The twins are officially crawling and can stand and even walk a little holding on to objects like the couch or chairs. We are excited to see them grow but as they have become mobile our lives get a little more stressful. Baby gates have gone up around the house and we have to keep an eye on T-Bone who likes to wander into the bathroom and close the door on himself and play in the toilet. So far there have been no real injures we have to be constantly vigilant. We love our twins but they sure are a lot of work.
I was chatting with a friend the other day about some of the little stresses of life we were both experiencing. We actually both lost our dads on September 20th, just a year apart. As we cried together about missing our dads, I started to say that this season we're in is hard, but I stopped myself. For Tim and I, "this season" has seemed quite long, so my conclusion became that life is hard. It seems to get harder the older I get. I know the Christmas season can be very difficult for many people for many reasons and now I am one of them. Christmas means family and family means a reminder that Dad is gone.
So I am thankful like never before that I serve a loving Heavenly Father who sent a sacrificial Son that I might know Him. God was separated from His Son, just like I am separated from my dad. But only for a time. Just like me and my dad. And my God can handle my raw emotions this Christmas. The anger, the sadness, the frustration, the despondency, the numbness. He can handle all of it. And I believe He welcomes it when I appropriately direct it to Him so that He can heal it and bring restoration to my broken heart. I don't really feel like celebrating Christmas this year. I don't care about presents or even being with people I love. (Except of course for my amazing husband and precious boys) Sorry, just being honest. Right now, I am sad and kind of a bah-humbug. But I DO feel like celebrating Christ. I wanna sing hymn after hymn after hymn about the birth of my Jesus, because He is the reason that I know I will be joyful again.
Even though Dad should be with us, God is good.
Even though we grieve, God is good.
Even though my heart is broken, God is good.
Even though...God is good.
I saw this on a friend's blog (which her husband found on John Eldredge's blog) and wanted to share it. I needed to hear this in this season of grief.
Loving Jesus in the Pain
This has been a tough year for me. A year with a lot of suffering.
Both Stasi and I have been through a lot of physical affliction. There were accidents. Betrayals. My father died this year. On top of this, my friends have been suffering. A year with a lot of pain in it.
And there is nothing like suffering to wreak havoc in your relationship with God. The damage pain does to our relationship with Jesus is often far, far worse than the pain itself.
Every time I turned to Jesus in the midst of one episode of heartache then another, every single time I turned to him, the first thing he would say was, "Love me." At first it surprised me - aren't you supposed to say You love me? I'm the one who's hurting here. But somehow, instinctively, I knew what he meant, knew what he was after. "Love me now, in this - not for this, but in this." And those words have been a rescue.
Here's why: Pain causes us to pull away from God. At the very moment we need him most, we pull back. Our soul withdraws, like a snail into its shell. Then you not only have the heartache, you have "lost" God for awhile too. Desolation on top of suffering. Sometimes it takes months, even years to recover the relationship. Jesus was rescuing me from that cycle by telling me to love him now, right in the midst of the pain.
On a soul level, when I love God in this place, it opens my heart and soul back up to him right where I need him most, right in the center of the pain. Too often what we cry out for is understanding - "why, God?" But I've learned over the years that when you are in the midst of the suffering, you don't often get understanding, and frankly, you don't need understanding - you need God.
And so dear friends I wanted to pass this along to you, for it has been a great help to me. Love Jesus, right there, right in the midst of the pain. Just start telling him you love him, right where you are hurting. For as you do, it enables your heart to open back up to him, it enables him to come to you in this very place. And it is Jesus that we need. Desperately.
Posted by John Eldredge 11/05/2011
Good words for my weary, aching heart. I pray that I can find the strength to love Him in the midst of this season.
It has now been over a month since my father in law passed away. I still cannot believe that he is gone. It still seems like I should be able to call him to talk about theology, football, politics, or home improvement. There have been many times when I wanted to talk to him about something and the sadness hits. Amazingly, Jackson seems to understand that his Papa is gone. When we ask him where he went, Jackson says that Papa is in Heaven with Jesus and God. He really loved Don and must miss him as much as the rest of us.
The Memorial Service for Don was beautiful. Heidi, her brother, a friend of Don's, and I spoke during the ceremony. Living Word Christian Center did an incredible job of taking care of the family and keeping things running as smoothly as possible. After the service ended and family went back to Iowa and Nebraska, we had to settle into life without Don. I have never lost anyone this close to me before and there is no way to be ready for it. Heidi, her mom and her brother are doing about as well as can be expected.
I always felt that I had hit the father in law jackpot with Don. He and I got along well and since my own father lives about 1,000 miles away, Don always took it upon himself to be another father to me. His natural response to people was to father them. Never in an overbearing way, either. He had a huge servant's heart toward Heidi and Dan and they always appreciated that. He will be greatly missed and we are struggling to figure out how to live without him.
My precious father went home to Glory yesterday morning. I am completely numb, but hanging in there. Everyone seems to be doing ok all things considered. God is ministering His peace to us through this process and we trust Him completely. We prayed for healing until the very end and rejoice knowing that Dad is experiencing that now in the presence of his Redeemer.
A wake will be held Thursday evening, September 22 from 6-9 at the First Memorial Funeral Chapel, 7835 Brooklyn Blvd, Brooklyn Park, MN. The memorial service will be held at Living Word Christian Center, 9201 75th Avenue North, Brooklyn Park, MN on Friday, September 23 at 11 am, lunch following.
These days, Tim and I are mostly just trying to keep our heads above water between working on the duplex, visiting Dad as often as possible, and keeping up with the kiddos. Two words: stress FULL. God is gracious though and occasionally, we are almost successful in sneaking in an adult conversation as well! We even went on a date for the 1st time last weekend. Mom braved all 3 kids at once, at bedtime and everything! It was really nice to get away, although I think we were a little too tired to really enjoy it.
Here is what I recently posted on my dad's caring bridge site:
A Daughter's Perspective
This is Heidi, I hacked into mom's account :) I know Mom just posted, but in between diapers and mac and cheese, I have a quick moment and thought I would post a little message.
First off, special thanks to everyone who has visited my dad, left little notes in the guestbook and has been praying. Keep it up, what an encouragement you are! This type of situation can be so isolating and lonely, and we really appreciate your friendship and support. More than you can know.
This is been such a challenging season, to say the least. But in the midst of it all, we have felt God's nearness to us every step of the way. As you can imagine, it is truly heartbreaking to see my father in this state of pain and weariness. Sometimes, Tim and I feel that our hearts might just burst. But we are able to rejoice that my dad is a man of great faith, who put his trust in Jesus long ago. He has been such a profound example for us of standing in faith for more; more of what God has to offer us if we would but ask and believe.
So I want to say thanks to my mom and dad. Thank you both for being such incredible examples of faithfulness to us. You have been a mother and a father to my husband and such amazing grandparents to our boys. Some day, far from now, you will leave us a legacy of faith that will be passed down generation after generation. Until then, we will stand with you, shoulder to shoulder, in faith for God to move miraculously. It is never too late for Heaven to touch earth, so we wait in faith.
Well, the twins are crying, so I gotta jet!
Love,
Heidi
That about sums it up for now.
Here are a few pics for your viewing pleasure.
my three boys :)
Jackson and I enjoying our morning coffee and biscotti
For a couple months now, I have been hosting a small prayer gathering once a week where we pray for life and for healing for 3 people: my dad, a friend of ours, and the unborn baby of a friend's sister. When both my dad and our friend, also a mother of three small boys, were diagnosed with "terminal" stage 4 cancer and we heard of this little child with terminal Potter's Syndrome (basically, no kidneys) all in the same week, it seemed clear that I needed to do something, anything, to help. It was time to rally the troops in whatever way I could.
Given the busy stage of life we are in, I knew that about all I could commit to is hosting prayer. With one of the twins in tow, of course! I also knew that if no one came over to pray with me, I probably wasn't go to be able to truly enter into some serious intercession of my own. Sad, but true these days. So, Wednesday night it was.
The group varies a lot, often it's just 2 of us, but God always shows up in a BIG way each time and I have been deeply encouraged to continue to stand in faith for my father's healing. Having a "terminally" ill parent is very emotionally stressful, as you can imagine, and strength often escapes me. This prayer time has also been a wonderful source of encouraging and prophetic words that we can pass along to my dad, our friend and our friend's sister. Our desire is to stand with them in these battles and be strength for them when they grow weary.
Well, it gives me tremendous joy to share with you that baby boy Caleb (not his real name) has kidneys. Two perfect kidneys. No joke. There was no sign of blood vessels even going to that part of his body, no amniotic fluid was being producing, so his lungs weren't developing, etc, etc, etc. Well, now he has 2 kidneys, her womb is full of amniotic fluid, which he's breathing, and his sweet little heart is pumping blood to his aforementioned miraculously perfect kidneys. Can I get a "praise GOD?!?!?!?!?!" Wow. After an whole day with countless experts, they decided that this is an official medical miracle. Praise God. More appointments show that he won't even need surgery or medication for his lungs and heart. Wow. God is awesome!
Please share this story and please join us in praying for more miracles. God is at work. Spread the word.
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