Can I ever be fed, and need no more food?
Can I ever sleep and need no more rest?
Can I ever feel my wife beside me as we watch
living, eternal, laughing things we were used to create,
and not want to see them again tomorrow?
~N.D. Wilson, Death by Living, p61~
If you’ve been marked by what might have been you don’t forget.
You know the day, the years.
You know when the baby would have been born…
It makes the calendar feel like a minefield,
like you’re constantly tiptoeing
over explosions of grief until one day you hit one,
shattered by what might have been.
~Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p110~
I can’t always pinpoint exactly what makes me miss my sweet babies more on some days than on others. But today is a day where I just feel their absence here tangibly. When I was lying in bed this morning, I suddenly noticed I had my hand resting on my belly: almost as if I were waiting for Fidelis to kick me. I keep looking at Evangeline’s things as I pack them away into the basement and wonder what I should do with them… and I wonder what her little sister Heritage would have looked like in each outfit, and whether she would have loved shoes and hairbows as much as her big sister does. All three of my children are infatuated with babies, and even their little babydolls (Bennett, Timmy, and Bea) ~ and when they play house together, I watch with my own arms empty, my womb closed up, my breasts dry.
This year is so far from what I thought it would be. And while most days I am able to not only function with joy & thankfulness & peace, there are the rare occasions like today where all I want to do is crumble into a ball in a dark closet and weep for the children I lost to heaven.
On most days, for me, it’s all right…
But for today, for a minute, it’s not all right.
I understand that God is sovereign,
that bodies are fragile and fallible.
I understand that grief mellows over time,
and that guarantees aren’t part of human life,
as much as we’d like them to be.
But on this day, looking out at the harsh white sky of a Chicago winter,
I’m crying just a little for what might have been.
…I’ll always know.
~Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p110~
A couple days ago, I read the account of Lazarus’ death and resurrection to my children, and Gabriel said “if Jesus had been here, would our babies not have died either?” I assured him that Jesus indeed was here, and it brought Him joy to take our children to heaven. And I reminded him of how Jesus Himself said all of these things are so that God would be glorified.
Today I miss my sweet babies acutely.
They are my little darlings, and I will always be their mommy.
So I’m thankful tomorrow will carry new mercies, and my God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Amen.
All around the world, God is giving and sustaining life to the praise of His grace.
His mercy is new every morning, and it’s always morning somewhere.
~Gloria Furman, Treasuring Christ When Your Hands are Full, p149~
…and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of God! (Matthew 19:14)
As Steven and I have raised our children, we have had the privilege, blessing, and responsibility of bringing our children to the sanctuary for worship each Lord’s Day ever since their birth. In fact, last Sunday was the first time our children ever attended Sunday school! But it was in the education hour prior to the worship service. For worship, we believe in coming together as a family; but yes, that means that Gabriel was over 6 years old before attending a Sunday school class, and Asher nearly 3. I suppose that is backward from what a lot of modern evangelical families practice! 🙂 But it is such a joy and privilege to sit together as a family each week during worship: to sing, pray, learn, read, respond, confess, pass peace, and partake of the Lord’s Supper ~ together. Our children belong to the Lord just as much as we adults do! So this week I read a little book called “Parenting in the Pew” as a refresher and reminder to myself of why it is such a joy and responsibility and privilege not to send my kids off to their own little classes while the adults worship alone. Below, here are a few little highlight snippets that really hit-home for me. May the Lord continue to bless my children, and grant grace to our family, as we come together at His feet to worship Him, seek His grace and forgiveness, revel in His mercy, eat His meal, sing with His people, pray on behalf of His people, and live as equals before our Father in heaven. I love filling a pew together. And just recently, after many months of being at different churches, we are filling a pew with my parents again. The blessing of having three generations together filling a pew is glorious, and we praise God for this kindness! It reminds me of growing up in California, filling a super long pew with my mom’s side of the family: my great-great-grandma, my great-grandpa, my grandpa & grandma, my parents, my brother & me, and occasionally my uncle’s family. All of us together. What a beautiful expression of God’s generational faithfulness, and Deuteronomy 6 coming to life in a tangible way.
May God draw my husband and me, and our children, and our children’s children, even unto a thousand generations, joyfully into His presence because He is faithful, the Alpha and the Omega, worthy of all praise, the Lamb that was slain. Amen!
[As a child], all I was taught was to “be quiet and be good.” “Be still, and know that I am God” is more biblical (Psalm 46:10). This verse begins to define the difference between “going to church” and “going to worship.” Going to worship requires a life-transformation and happens out of a new heart, not an old habit.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p18Simply telling children to “be quiet” is not the way to draw their attention to the worship that is taking place. The purpose of parenting in the pew is to train a child to worship, not to be quiet. Quietness at certain times may enhance their ability to worship, but quietness is a means to this effort, not an end.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p63If our children’s lack of quietness preoccupies us rather than their worship experience, we are simply in the pew in the presence of our kids and are probably feeling far from the presence of God.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p63Training children to worship does not always enhance our own experience of being before the Lord… The number of times children must be helped to concentrate, pay attention and enter into the worship service is almost beyond counting. The effort can be exhausting. And it can be pleasing to God.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p63It can seem paradoxical that to help a child to develop concentration and a sense of quietness for worship, parents have to talk more. If you sit close to your children, however, you can give whispered instructions and reminders rather easily and with little or no distraction to others.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p63It is not unusual for parents to express delight as their own sense of worship is enhanced through practicing parenting in the pew. The liturgy becomes less routine and more relevant. Not because the words have changed, but because we listen again to the familiar and find that God is still speaking.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p67Music is one of the easier tools for parents to use in teaching their children to worship. … Scripture memorizing, too, is made easier if done through songs.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p73Parents need help in getting the youngest of worshipers to sing praise to God through music written for adults. This can be a significant way that young children are connected to the heritage and history of the church. Worship music can also lay a foundation for understanding the truth of God that produces the theologians of the next century.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p73Children love being set free to “make a joyful noise.” … During songs or hymns, encourage very young children to sing “la, la, la” with the tune if the words are totally unknown or unpronounceable to them. Children don’t mind doing this and will quickly begin to pick up the refrain or a repeated phrase.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p73God is believable because He is real. His reality rings true with children because of His sovereignty. God’s purposes and will do not always match our expectations. It is very often in disappointment or difficulty in the lives of our children that God’s existence becomes objective and real, distinctive and powerful for them. We shouldn’t be afraid that prayer that is not answered according to our hopes will weaken or destroy or children’s faith. Children need to see that God can be trusted no matter what. This is the foundation for maturing faith.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p85Learning to pray about real things, simple or profound, prepares children to participate in the church family. The church needs to hear the prayers of children, because they often reflect the best definition of faith given in the Scripture: “Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1).
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p85Sometimes [children] will whisper questions in the pew. Giving brief answers to some questions is appropriate; others need to be answered at a later time. Either way, be sure to respond respectfully to your children. If a question needs to be answered later, ask the child to remember the question and ask it again after church.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p101Through worshiping together, my children and I have become friends before the throne of grace. As fellow sinners, we worship our Father who forgives. In worship we have learned to love God and accept His mercy. In worship we have learned to love each other and accept our failures. God must be real in our experience of faith. He must be known and encountered. We cannot be satisfied with worship that simply fulfills social and religious obligations. God must be heard. We need to teach our children what it means to touch the hem of His garment and be healed. Our children need to clamber into the loving lap of the Savior. He yearns for the companionship of children and longs to bless them.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p124…I see my sons more clearly in the pew. Sitting beside me I see the handiwork of God. In the presence of our Father, my sons have become my brothers.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p125The best kind of seeker service is one where unchurched people feel two things simultaneously: “I don’t belong here!” and “I want to belong here!” The mysterium tremendum, God’s fearful majesty, is off-putting and in-drawing at the same time. The “throne of Grace” is still a throne, not a rocking chair or floor pillow. The church is not another club to join. It is the body of Christ, the presence of the kingdom of God in the world.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p139
For further excellent encouragement on this subject, please read our friend Pastor Toby Sumpter’s exhortation here!
The future flies at us and from that dark blur we shape the past.
And the past is forever.
We are authors and we are writing every second of every day.
A child scissors a couch, and that action is forever and always.
It cannot be undone.
But now it is your turn.
What you say and what you do in response will be done forever,
never to be appealed, edited, or modified.
~N.D. Wilson, Death by Living, p164~
Living means decisions.
Living means writing your every word
and action and thought and drool spot down in forever.
It means writing your story within The Story.
It means being terrible at it.
It means failing and knowing that, somehow,
all of our messes will still contribute,
that the creative God has merely given Himself a greater challenge—
drawing glory from our clumsy botching of the past.
~N.D. Wilson, Death by Living, p166~
What I need as a mother is grace.
God’s grace, that allows me to fail and try again,
that allows me to ask for help when I don’t have the wisdom or patience that I need,
that reminds me we’re not alone in this,
and that God loves my son even more than I do.
And grace from other mothers.
I need grace and truth-telling and camaraderie from other moms.
I need us to tell the truth about how hard it is,
and I need us to help each other,
instead of hiding behind the pretense and pressure of perfection.
~ Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p114 ~
There are some moments these days, since the miscarriage,
when I feel like a failure
because my body wasn’t able to do what so many other women’s bodies can.
I see them with their kids, a year apart, one after another.
That will never be true for me and for our family.
I’ll always remember, even if we do have more children someday,
the loss we experienced last summer.
But what has healed me more than anything else
are the stories of other women who have experienced similar things.
I’ve needed grace,
and I’ve needed women who share their sorrows with me,
and allow me to share my own.
~ Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p114 ~
You are as much serving God in looking after your own children,
and training them up in God’s fear,
and minding the house,
and making your household a church for God,
as you would be if you had been called to lead an army to battle for the Lord of hosts.
~C.H. Spurgeon~
You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart.You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.
… lest you forget the Lord… It is the Lord your God you shall fear. Him you shall serve and by His name you shall swear.
Deuteronomy 6:5-9, 12, 13
As a homeschooling mama I particularly embrace teaching my children about… well… pretty much everything! But the main thing that God calls me to teach my children is Him ~ and of course, in the process of learning about Him, they will learn not only His Word but also about His people, His world, His creation, His desires. Our prayer is that our children would come to see all of life through the lens of Christianity, so that they know that nothing can be separated from God, and that they would not only know but also love that all things are connected to Him, and are for His glory and the furtherance of His Kingdom.
So as I continue in the journey of homeschooling these sweet children the Lord has entrusted to my care, I pray that Deuteronomy 6 would be a daily meditation and reality for me. It is written on the wall near our front door, and I pray that it would be inscribed upon my heart just as noticeably.
As I’ve recently been enjoying a little read by Elizabeth George, she reminds me of some easy highlights from Deuteronomy 6:7 ~
Who is to teach? Every believing parent.
Who are you to teach? Your children.
What are you to teach? God’s Word.
How are you to teach? Diligently.
When are you to teach? All day long, every day.
Where are you to teach? At home and everywhere.
It’s so basic and so complex all at the same time!
May the Lord equip me to accomplish this task set before me!
Psalm 34:11
2 Timothy 1:5
Proverbs 1:8
Proverbs 6:20
Time is an ever rolling stream.
How true. Isaac Watts, in beautiful hymnody, hit the nail on the head.
Here and here are his pertinent, poetic reminders.
I am so thankful that God is giving me grace to truly, fully enjoy my three miraculous children right now, even as I so long and pray and work toward adding to that number.
It was a year ago now that we began to seek adding to our quiver ~ really? an entire year already?! yep, it is so.
May God grant me the grace and joy to continue following where He leads with cheerful obedience, regardless of what His time limits or age gaps may be. May I have eyes to see what He sees, to believe what He knows, to embrace what He planned.
Gabriel suddenly seems more grownup all the time at 6 now. I blinked, and suddenly find myself allowing him to do big kid things: stay up later than the littles, ride his bike to Grandmama’s house by himself, play on the computers unattended at the library, go by himself in a men’s public restroom (depending on the place, mind you! small library or church, yes! public mall? probably not…).
Asher is moving completely out of the toddler stage, even though he is just 2 1/2 years old. I blinked, and suddenly he can carry conversations with anyone (mostly being understood, too), can follow directions (even if given more than one at a time), can dress/undress himself, holds a pencil/crayon correctly and can trace decently, and fully embraces his big brotherhood and dotes upon his little sister.
Evangeline, in like speed, has now moved completely from baby to nearly 17 month old toddler ~ somehow I blinked, and it suddenly happened. She never walks if she can run (don’t even mention crawling, hah), she tries hard to communicate (and doesn’t do a stellar job yet, but certainly lets you know if you didn’t catch her drift!), likes to be right in the thick of it with her big brothers, is tough and stubborn and opinionated, can identify all kinds of things (from baby doll to ball to book to belly button to blankie to shoes to outside to cow…), and is finally really catching on to routines in various venues (library, worship service, even praying before meals now finally isn’t a fight to get her to hold hands & be still).
These children are an incredible gift. Nobody could be more humbled by it or thankful for it than I am.
So as the stream continues to roll, may the Lord give me grace to jump in and splash around, body and heart and mind and soul, trusting in Him as my hope, my help, my guard, and my home. May He grant me contentment with where He has me, but never complacency; may He give me passion to keep pushing forward, but restrain me from asking for the reins. Amen.
Sometimes I feel like I’m limping ~ one foot here, one foot in heaven.
This weekend is Mother’s Day around here, and honestly there is a lot of hype, especially in the circles of moms online where I glean a lot of sweet fellowship. Personally, I could take it or leave the hype with Mother’s Day: I’m like that with most Hallmark Holidays though… I’m more of a church calendar holiday type of girl. 
That being said, at the same time: I get it.
I am a mom.
I have a mom.
I have a mother in law.
I have a grandma.
I have sisters-in-law who are moms.
I have friends who are moms, who are more like sisters than friends.
So I understand the joy and privilege and beauty of a holiday like this.
I understand that we should rejoice in the reminder of honoring and tangibly loving these women who have (and do!) sacrificed so much. It reminds me of a quote in a frame on my daughter’s bedroom wall by Anne Bradstreet:
So I love that I not only get to honor the moms in my life, but that I also get the icing-on-the-cake joy of receiving some of that special honor for Mother’s Day. Mostly, though, I love the reminders that being a mom is an incredible joy and privilege. That it can so easily and quickly be taken away in less than the blink of an eye. Not only my own experiences with the frailty of life, but also things like reading here and here brings exhortation and encouragement to my heart to keep my balance on reality. To focus on Grace. To bask in the joys.
Most of my children are singing in the choirs of heaven.
Some of my children are singing here with me.
BOTH are a joy and privilege.
So as I limp through Mother’s Day, with one foot on earth and one foot in heaven… some of my olive branches here and some of them there… I will choose to rejoice. Because it’s not about me. It’s not about what I want or what I choose or what I control. It’s about gifts and grace and glorious humility ~ from God my Father.
I will wear my necklace that has all of my babies’ names on it. I will write all my babies’ names together. I will give pictures of my living children to their grandmas and great-grandma. I will praise God for giving me the incredible and undeserved gift of being a mom to living children. I will praise God for choosing me to be a humble vessel that held babies that went straight to His presence.
I know that many of you who read my blog also have one foot on earth and one in heaven (and some of you are moms to children in heaven without yet having children here in your arms). So what will you do as you limp through Mother’s Day this year?? How will you remember the joy and the privilege of being a mommy to whatever child(ren) the Lord has seen fit to give you? How will you honor and love the mothers in your life for the sacrificial blessings they have bestowed upon you (when you’ve seen them, and especially when you’ve been blind to them)?
And in the meantime, just know this: you will be in my prayers.
I’m praying that I would reflect on the glory of this limp. I don’t know what it’s like NOT to be a mommy of children in heaven. And I want to be thankful, praising God, for the glorious ways of His perfect plan even when I don’t understand all its details. I want to see the glory of having one foot here and one foot there. I want to embrace it and love it and bless His Name for it.
If you find yourself in a position of anticipating Mother’s Day this weekend with a bittersweetness in your heart and a catch in your throat, I’ve been there. And this morning I wanted to share from my heart with you something I wrote called Two Pearls, posted at Expecting With Hope, as I recall my very first Mother’s Day six years ago… and even as I anticipate this coming Mother’s Day. These days, I look like a mom. 🙂 You’ll see me babywearing or pushing a stroller, my purse is really a diaper bag, my kids’ outfits & hairstyles are much more put together than mine are, and a glance in my car at three carseats squished side-by-side in a single row would confirm that I totally drive a mom car.
And I embrace that with so much thankfulness and joy! But when someone sees me in the grocery store parking lot with my three little miracles and smiles with a comment like, “you’ve got your hands full, mama” they really have no idea. My hands may look full, but my heart is even more full.
This Mother’s Day, I am mommy to twelve: eight singing in heaven, three running around my ankles, and one fighting for life in my womb.
This Mother’s Day, I continue on the journey of knowing what the past held and wondering what God holds for our future.
This Mother’s Day, I fully embrace the gifts the Lord has given me, both here and in heaven, and pray for His grace to joyfully accept what His sovereign hand delivers into mine.
As I wrote in my journal, “it was my very first Mother’s Day—although I did not have either of my children in my arms, I fellowshipped with one in heaven and held the other in my belly…”
So as another Mother’s Day arrives, I remember those of you who are in similar shoes—who have loved and lost and now love anew, who know what the past held and wonder what the future holds, who have Mother’s Day fears and Mother’s Day hopes, who know you are a mom (perhaps of many!) even if you have “nothing” to show for it but memorabilia like my two pink pearls. Those pearls were my reminder of what God had done. Those pearls continue to be a reminder to me of God’s faithfulness. And I still get joy out of telling my son how one of the pearls was for him and one for his big sister he will meet in heaven where we will see the most beautiful pearls imaginable (Revelation 21:21).
