Monday, May 22, 2017

It Is Well With My Soul

My Sweet Girl, 

It's been just over 7 years since I found out I was pregnant with you.  And 7 years ago this week, you & I went to a woman's retreat together with our church where I was to share my testimony under the topic of Hope, with the verse Romans 5:5 - Hope does not disappoint us....

You & I stood up there and I talked, as I usually do, for much longer than I intended about the amazing story of Redemption that God had given me when He came for me... both over 2000 years ago and when He invaded my life shortly after I had your big sister.  I shared things most don't dare about my past and the darkest depths of my heart, only so I could reveal how amazingly God's grace had changed me and covered my sin...and when I finished 45 minutes later, you couldn't have heard a pin drop over only tears falling as people either wept with me or as they were encouraged in a situation in their own life through my story... but as I sat down, there was the loudest roll of thunder out of nowhere that caused a mixture of awe and laughter.  God was SO in it.  When that session was over, I went to my group of close friends and shared with them that I was pregnant again.  The days were simple... exciting... uncomplicated... for a little while.

I don't know how much you truly know or are aware of the things that have happened since then.  I don't know how many of the times 'you show up' in my day are actually caused by you.  I tend to think it's God meeting me in that way and that He speaks my language and that maybe you get to watch and sometimes giggle as you see the joy that knowing you has brought me in the middle of the sadness that losing you has caused.  But there is just so much I don't know about you.  That's the hard part.

I wanted to write to you because if you were here and I had the things going on in my mind that I do today, I would share it with you.  I would probably tell you at the counter in the kitchen or hanging out on the couch in the living room... but I'll settle for here until I get there....

It's been a long 7 years.  I have felt more pain than I knew possible on this earth since I lost you.  I had no idea I could physically ache so bad over missing you.  Your life and death consumed me.  And I'm ok with that because in that, God changed me.  But it was often messy and I regularly felt like I failed you.  See, I had this idea that if I was honest with everyone I cared about throughout my grief journey, that I would come to the end of the 'hard part' and our relationships would have gotten stronger and I would have no hard feelings left over.  What I discovered, the very hard way, is that most people don't truly want to know how they hurt you, and so often, I caused more harm than good because I was regularly more hurt by the responses I received.  People wrote me off and then the one thing I thought would help keep the relationships I cared about, actually did the opposite.  Most of those relationships are healed now, but I absolutely hate that I hurt people in my journey with you - and that means that when people think of you, they will think of my inability to love well in the middle of it.  I'm so sorry for that Rachel.  I'm sorry to them, and to God, but I'm really sorry to you.  I set out to make your story beautiful and I got in my own way sometimes.

I did so many big things for you, fueled by my pain - I had a vision for a playground and told you when you were with me, I was going to build you one - and I did.  Over 100 people came together and helped erect that beautiful ark in memory of you and people who loved you from near and far sent money to fund it and local companies donated time and supplies and we gifted it to your church family at Grace.  They loved you so much and loved us so well through that valley.  Kids play on it all the time.  I think you know that....  I think you also know that your story got the name of Jesus on the front page of the Foster's Daily Democrat multiple times.  Your story brought people so much hope.  And not because of who you were necessarily, but because of Who Jesus was to us in our saying goodbye to you.  Truly, God has used you, Rachel.  

We held big 5K's... which required more work than I can fit into a letter and I'm amazed looking back I could even pull off since I was also pregnant for most of them... and then donated the money to other charities in your name.  As things went along, one thing led to another and more fundraising and tons more effort later, I had a 501(c)3 called Baby Rachel's Legacy, in your memory.  It was amazing - but if I'm honest, it was nothing I truly set out for or necessarily wanted.  I just wanted to be able to do things for others and in order to get donations, which people will only give if they can get a write-off, you have to be tax-exempt.... and so I was.  I suppose it only makes sense.  I do the same things for your siblings - when something gets in the way of a goal involving them, I get through it. I guess this is the part of my personality that Nana always hoped I would use for good one day... the determined little girl who always fought for what I wanted... 

So, to get to what I've been wanting to really talk to you about - over the past year or so, I've been praying about what direction I should go with your legacy.  It's a lot of pressure to have your legacy be my responsibility.  Technically, you wouldn't have one at all if I didn't share your story, my love for you, my pain in losing you, and my healing along the way.  I know God gave you to me because He knew I would do that.  And it's been humbling, amazing, overwhelming, painful and beautiful to see all the ways in which He has reached across the world and back with my vulnerability.  

Somehow though, I feel the winds changing and if there is one thing I have learned along this road with you, my precious little girl, it's that I have to bend with the wind. 

I have taken small steps - I closed your PO Box just after your last birthday in December... that was not an easy thing but I believe it was the beginning of testing out the waters of the new ocean I was about to swim in.  The one I've had my eye on for a while but have been afraid to jump into.  The truth is, most the time it was empty now.  It used to be full all the time - for years I got mail there regularly and it was SO good for my heart.  People have truly been much too good to me.  This was the first year that on your birthday, there was no mail there.  None.  And I'm okay with that too.  I had more mail in that box than I ever would have expected and it always came just when I needed it, but God knows, I don't need it anymore.  I love getting mail for you, but my heart doesn't hurt if I don't.  That healing is a gift and I'm going to open it and take it home!!  

But then somehow, after closing the PO Box, I started getting way more mail at our home - all applications for headstone assistance.  And I noticed that not only was I not able to keep up with it from a business stand point, I wasn't able to keep up with it with the energy in my heart and mind.  Constantly reading stories about how babies died was wearing me down. And so one day as I stood looking at a stack of applications that I had been procrastinating on, I heard myself say out loud "I don't want to do this anymore." and I heard God whisper to my heart "You don't have to."  And so began the process of closing our nonprofit - which I am not currently referring to as "Baby Rachel's Legacy" because I am NOT closing your legacy - I should have never named a business your 'legacy' because it isn't.  

I have been contemplating the question - What do I want Rachel's Legacy to be?  And Is the nonprofit accomplishing that?  A legacy is so much more than being a 501(c)3 and giving people money.  I have always wanted your legacy - what people think of when they remember you - to be one of what you taught me - learning to dance in the rain, to love deeper and for life to be more meaningful. To not waste time with the ones you love.  To have more love than can fit into a minute of life.  To hope in Jesus and the promise of heaven when life has more pain than one can bear.  And I love helping people - but honestly, I think my blog helps people in a way that money towards a stone - or even a care package - never could.  So that is probably time better spent, if I spend any at all, and I'm not sure if I will unless God tells me to share something.  There is already so much here and people are still reading it, even the very first posts.

I've been thinking that I'm going to start having a cookout each year to celebrate you.  We have the space now and loving my family and friends is much more my style than trying to round up support for another fundraiser!  I'm SO TIRED of that! LOL!!  I want food and fun and just conversation - normal conversation that doesn't involve dead babies.  Not that I won't talk about YOU, but YOU ARE ALIVE and that's what I want to focus on.  I don't even need to tell people we are celebrating you when we invite them - I'm thinking the people who love you most do that often all by themselves.  That's your legacy.... and you are so loved. 

Now, onto what happened to me this weekend... I went to that same woman's retreat you & I went to.  It was one of the only 2 times I've ever been in 12 years where I was not either pregnant or there with a nursing baby! (although I did have to pump for your baby sister!)  The theme was "Living Hope" this year!  I got to sit next to Jill for sessions and worship and I was able to apologize to a couple more people who I didn't love well in my pain and I just felt like God truly is bringing my life without you full circle.  Like he is truly healing depths in my heart I didn't know could be reached... and I cried.  A lot.  But I cried with a smile.  And for the first time since you left, I sang "It Is Well with My Soul" and truly meant it with everything in me that I am okay that you are not here.  I am full of joy for you that you are with the Lord and that this earth can't hold you.  You have the better part and I am so thankful for that.  

I keep thinking about the verse that God gave me the first week after your diagnosis -

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ - and that is from the book of Philippians 1:6 (the book of Joy)...

The number 7 is symbolic of completion in the Bible too.  Seems 'ironic' doesn't it, that he would lead me to this place in year 7?  After baby # 7... Eden Joy...  4 boys 3 girls... ♥ 43 ♥  God speaks my language!

I am far from complete - but you are - and I know my missing you will never end on this side of heaven.  But, I know God will meet me in any sadness I feel as a result of letting this go.  I also know that it's not you and I don't have to let you go.  You are with us everywhere because you are with Jesus and He is in us.  Nothing can separate us.  Death has no victory!

I plan to take whatever that sadness may be and pour it into your siblings, who are growing up way too fast and your Daddy who I love more than life itself.  I believe that I have truly made it through 6 long years of hard work with this thing we call grief - and now God, our Father is telling me to prepare to rest on year 7...  Rest in His promises... Rest in how valuable you are to Him and to me... Rest in His faithfulness and mercy and grace and strength... And rest in the truth that the family I have needs me more than any other person I might help through this nonprofit... Not that anything I have done in the past was bad or wrong - God was leading me then too!  And that is just the beauty of it... if you were here, you would need different things at different ages and I love that God is giving me the closest thing to that experience as possible without you here.

I have begun the paperwork and the only thing I can compare the feeling to is when we sold our last house - it's emotional handing over the keys to something you have poured your heart and soul into for so many years, but after closing at the table as the seller, you sit at another one and close as a buyer and get a new set of keys to something you love even more....  and I'm so excited to see what God does and how he weaves you into it all, which I KNOW He will do, after I turn these keys in.

Rachel Alice, I am so glad I'm your Mama.  I am so thankful for every tear, every disappointment and every ounce of pain that forced me to lean on God.  I know Him better because of you.  I remember the days I had with you like they were yesterday and I promise that my days and our home will never be absent of you.  I could never forget you and I will not stop sharing about you, saying your name, or loving you.  As a matter of fact, I talk about you so comfortably now that some people don't realize you aren't here with us.  I like it that way.  

I love you pretty girl.  You are forever my child.

Love & Hope, 
Mama

This is a song that we sang this weekend that really ministered to my heart - especially the part that says "while I'm waiting, I'm not waiting, I know heaven lives in me."   I love that.

Whether now or then
Death is not my end
I know Heaven waits for me
Though the road seems long
I'll never walk alone
And I got all I need to sing


I know You love me
I know You found me
I know You saved me
And Your grace will never fail me

And while I'm waiting
I'm not waiting
I know Heaven lives in me


Should I suffer long
This is not my home
I know Heaven waits for me

And though the night is dark
Heaven owns my heart
And I got all I need to sing


I know You love me
I know You found me
I know You saved me
And Your grace will never fail me

And while I'm waiting
I'm not waiting
I know Heaven lives in me


So I will sing like I will there
In the fearless light of glory
Where the darkness cannot find me
And Your face is all I see

Oh I will sing like a man
With no sickness in my body
Like no prison walls can hold me
I will sing like I am free

'Cause I know You love me

I know You found me
I know You saved me
And Your grace will never fail me

And while I'm waiting
I'm not waiting
I know Heaven lives in me


I know You love me
I know You found me
I know You saved me
And Your grace will never fail me

And while I'm waiting
I'm not waiting
I know Heaven lives in me


I'll sing Holy, Holy
My heart, cries Holy
As it is, in Heaven
It is in me


We'll sing Holy, Holy
The earth, cries Holy
As it is, in Heaven
So let it be





Friday, April 21, 2017

Long Saturday

So, I guess that's a record...4 months without writing.  I have sort of resorted to smaller Facebook posts to journal my continued journey without Rachel since spare time is something I have nothing of these days.  I'm okay with it, I suppose it's a natural progression of life moving on - even if some days my heart is planted back in 2010.

It's been a wild 6 weeks - Matt had to leave state for a work trip and I planned on staying home with the kids for most of it, with a visit or two in between.  And then that Monday morning he left.  And I missed him the very second he walked out the door.  We got news that there was a big storm coming that next day - 2 feet of snow expected.  Isaiah had an appointment at the cardiologist for a heart issue he's been having and while we were there, I discovered Asa had conjunctivitis, so by the time I got done with the cardiologist and the urgent care... and then the pharmacy - it was 5pm... but being who I am, I started packing and at 9:20pm, we got in the truck and headed out for the 3 hour drive to where my man was. 

We spent the next 4 weeks in a hotel room together, doing our school work and taking field trips while Matt worked and then getting to eat dinner with him before he was falling asleep sitting up after a 12.5 hour shift each day - but there was nowhere else I'd rather be than next to him. (and missing multiple big snow storms while we walked around in 60 degree weather!)

We ended up coming home a week before him and on Good Friday, he was allowed to leave a few days early because we got news that his Memere wasn't doing well.  He got home that night after 10pm and the next day, we drove 3 hours north to visit his Memere for what would turn out to be the last time we would see her here on earth.  I'm so thankful for him that we were able to make that trip.

On Good Friday, I had wanted to visit Rachel like we usually do and I just couldn't make it happen.  The kids and I went to the service at church that night and although Ezra distracted me from a lot of it, I was so thankful to be there and to have 6 of my kids here with me and to know that my 7th is safe in heaven because of that very day.  I decided we'd go visit Rachel Sunday instead.

Matt's grandparents have been married for 72 years.  They lived in the same house for most of their lives and it wasn't too long ago that his Memere ended up needing more care than his Pepere could give and was moved into a nursing home.  Pepere visited all the time of course, even trying to break her out of there at one point, which was a great story...  it wasn't too much longer and he was moved into the same home and the two of them ended up in rooms next to each other with a bathroom in the middle that they shared. 

I know nobody ever wants to live in a nursing home, but if I make it to my 90's and Matt & I can go together, it would be okay.  I've found that most everything in life is okay if I have him with me, holding my hand.  Marriage is a true gift from God and his grandparent's lifetime of love through good and bad, joy and sorrow, sickness and in health, until death separated them is something I think most of us admire and would love to know ourselves. 

Last Saturday - the day between Good Friday and Easter - we were visiting them and his Memere was not responding, although I know she knew we were there.  At one point it was just me and them in the room and his Pepere got down on his knees on that hard floor and held her hand.  He told her over and over how beautiful she was and how much he loved her.  I'm telling you, my heart was both in awe and breaking at the same time.  I cried standing there watching him just love on his bride.  So much went through my mind.... how hard it must be for him, and for their kids - how on earth you say goodbye to someone you've spent your entire life with... how painful life can be even when it's long and happy... how amazing their story is... how much I hope Matt & I get that much time together... and how fast time goes by. 

But the one thought that I just couldn't shake is that the day before we remembered Jesus' death on the cross - and the day after, we would celebrate his resurrection... the day He overcame death and conquered the grave... the hope of eternity and that heaven is REAL...  But in between those two amazing days, there was Saturday.

Back in Jesus' day, his followers were heartbroken on Saturday.  They didn't know that the next day, He would rise from the dead.  They had just watched him die and were shattered by the pain, I'm sure.  We are blessed with knowing the ending to the story, but that doesn't mean the pages between the beginning and the end won't bring us to our knees.

I remember going to visit Rachel in the funeral home on the way home from the hospital and, even though I had just had a major surgery, I dropped to my knees at the sight of her on that couch, and told her how pretty she was and how much I loved her over and over and over....

And there I stood, watching his Pepere do the same thing with his bride of 72 years and all I could do was cry and pray... 

Because Friday had come and gone and Sunday wasn't here yet...  It was still Saturday and Saturday hurts sometimes.  Even when you know that Sunday is coming. 

I leaned over to say goodbye to Memere and I whispered "When you get there, give Rachel a hug for me, ok?"  and I know that happened. And one day, when my long Saturday here on earth is over, I will do the same.