Dead Heading Roses

I love roses. All kinds of flowers really but especially roses. They come in all colors and shapes and sizes. With different thorns and patterns as well. 

Yesterday I was dead heading the roses at our house and also trying to process an emotional day of final things. It's a year of change and I knew there would be many lasts as my kids graduate and move forward and yesterday marked the last pass and review and awards ceremony. The last of eight years of memories watching one or both of my kids in a uniform. It made me a lot sad and afraid. 

Hanging on to the yesterdays and the todays is so much easier than anticipating the tomorrows. The unknowns are frightening. Getting up at four in the morning and riding a bus full of anxious and excited AFJROTC teenagers was fun and I learned a lot about my kids and how they grew in their courage and friendships. These groups were like family and it's hard to imagine no more of those times. 

But as I was snipping the full bloomed and dead rosebuds off our bushes I was reminded of something. In order for the new buds to have life and food to grow, the dead and grown flowers have to be removed. Just like we have to let go of the old in order to embrace the new. Just like God has to chip off the ugly parts of our nature in order to paint and fill us with the beauty of His Spirit. Nothing that is alive and growing and healthy can remain the same. 

My kids and I are on the brink of new adventures. My daughter as she tackles the big girl world of jobs and bills and a second degree. My son as he heads to college to find what he loves and what God has planned. And me as I leave the comfort of the known to marry an amazing man in a community and job that are as of now very unknown. In order to be more like Christ we have to throw off the old and reach for the new. 

It's frightening and exciting and I know that with God all things are possible and whatever plan He has is far better than any I have. So I'm sure there are more tears to shed but they are mixed with great joy for tomorrow. I'm just trusting in the one who knows because He sees tomorrow already. 

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us,” Hebrews 12:1 NIV

No Heartbeat

Probably the two hardest words I've ever heard. Nine months pregnant with no unusual difficulties with the pregnancy and then to hear the words "no heartbeat". At the time we didn't know if we were expecting a boy or a girl and in a matter of just a few minutes our world shifted. We went from joy and expectation to loss and uncertainty. That was nineteen years ago. 

Just a little over a year after that I was told those words again. This time with a pregnancy barely in the process. A baby that was expected to fill the gap suddenly was an uncertainty. A weekend of prayer and pain and crying out for miracles. And then there he was. A tiny heartbeat waiting to be born. 

Fear can rob the joy. As we drew closer to the due date for David the loss of Sarah brought fear for what might happen. We waited for this miracle that couldn't be found at three months to be delivered before the forty weeks with excitement and hope and a shadow of fear. 

There has been lots of change since that time but one thing never has changed. My God is faithful. He has walked with me in the valleys and on the mountains. But it's been the valleys that have built the strongest faith. I can honestly say I wouldn't choose to ever experience the bad stuff again but I also have to say that those broken times are the best. They gave me appreciation for the moments. 

I just read something the other day that says we remember the moments not the days. I could tell you story after story of moments in my life where God showed up big. Moments where joy was overwhelming and grief rocked me to the core and I wouldn't change any of those moments. Don't ask me about dates or days or even to remember names of long past friends.  For some reason my mind doesn't hold those as well. But the moments. The ones that were a reflection and intentionally marked by God. Those I can remember. 

As I look around at my kids and my family and so many people who have touched my life I know that the words "no heartbeat" are a lie. The heartbeats live on. My Sarah's heart beats with my Jeaus and in me and my kids and all of those moments that continue to be a part of us. 

My God is a big God and He gets bigger through each beat of my heart. 

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” Psalm 91:1 NIV

When the Littles get Big

Ecclesiastes 3:1-15 is a great reminder of time. Each season of our lives is just that - a season. A passing moment. And together the seasons make up our lives. Some seasons are harder to manage than others. 

I've lived in a variety of places and the changing of seasons I've experienced each have beautiful parts and ugly parts. For instance - winter in the mountains is beautiful when the white snow coats all around you making it look like a postcard. But not so pretty the very next day when that same snow is dirty and brown and has to be shoveled and leads to mud. Just as spring in the south puts forth amazing flowers and bluebird nests that bring joy for the moment until the heat of summer or showers and humidity make you forget the beauty. 

Just as nature has good and bad so do the seasons of our lives. And as I get older the seasons seem to go much faster. 

When my kids were little time seemed slower. I looked forward to and couldn't imagine the exciting things rhey were learning to do and say and the fun activities that would be available as they got older. Along the way there were good seasons and bad. 

I knew last year when school started back that this season of change would speed up like a runaway locomotive going downhill as soon as we got past Christmas. Today I am on the less than a month side of having two graduates and a less than three months from marrying and moving to a whole new chapter. The days are rocketing by and this weekend it picked up speed. 

Taking senior pictures with my oldest and printing pictures for invitations with my youngest and nailing down more wedding details made the moments so bittersweet. As excited as I am for all that I know they will accomplish the fear of change can overwhelm me. 

So today I'm clinging to this verse and many others. “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Ephesians 2:10 NIV. 

My littles aren't little anymore and as fearful as I may be about tomorrow I can rest in knowing that the God who created the world prepared already the good works He wants us all to do. 

When Normal Isn't Normal

Psalm 139:14-15(ESV)

¹⁴ I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
    my soul knows it very well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
    intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

 

It's hard to believe that this guy is about to graduate and go to college.  As the third baby he came after a loss.  His sister was expecting a baby sibling just as we were expecting a new baby.  When we didn't get to keep the baby sister we had to deal with the loss.  But then we got the boy.  The dude.  The monster I call him.  I don't know if you have ever lost something and then gotten a replacement or a new one of whatever you lost but when you lose something and it's replaced you tend to treasure the replacement in a different way.  You don't necessarily love it more than the original but you have a deeper appreciation for it.

 

When it comes to losing a baby and then having another one that appreciation is even deeper than you could imagine.  You value that life and you may tend to be overprotective and hover more or whatever parenting style you  have may be more.  Just more.  This is what happened with my dude.  Not only me but his sister tended to be much more protective and appreciative of the addition.  I think that's why my children have a special connection that draws them together. 

 

Once he came along he was so easy.  Normal - easy baby - easy attitude and a happy baby.  We learned early though that he kind of danced to a different drummer.  He had trouble shifting gears or changing tasks and could be resolutely focused and yet easily distracted.  Simple tasks took much longer to complete and could result in frustration and tears.  It wasn't until he started to school that we realized there was a bit more to it than just normal boy stuff.  Then we hesitated to label and medicate because well no one wants to recognize that your child isn't what the world would call "normal".  In the second grade my smart, compassionate boy was labeled as ADD.  Not hyper but Attention Deficit.  As a mom I thought I got this.  I thought okay we just take some medicine and move on.  I loved school and I didn't want him to be frustrated and not like school so we took care of the problem.

 

Then we faced other issues - health issues that nearly cost his life.  It was determined that he had a kidney that wasn't working properly and so we took out the bad kidney and moved on thinking all was back to normal.  But normal in the world of ADD is not the normal that I understand.  For him normal is very different.  Then we got the scoliosis diagnosis and normal shifted again.  It's taken me almost eighteen years to figure out normal for my David.  He is so amazing. 

 

Recently I have watched him face some things that after 12 years of school you would think we would have already handled but because he is extremely smart we haven't.  He is actually struggling in a class to the point that we are concerned with his passing.  As we've talked and processed it's been enlightening to get a glimpse of what goes on behind his eyes.  His brain doesn't work like mine.  What I consider normal and what he considers normal do not equal the same thing.  When he doesn't take his medicine he says his brain is like a million things running in a million directions and he has trouble focusing on one thing at a time.  You can especially tell this when he is talking.  Conversations run from one topic to another very quickly and can go in circles and with great detail.  When he is on his meds he says its like all the things are still there running in a million directions just at a slower pace.  That is evident again when you talk to him or he has to do written work.  He can stay on task better but it takes longer to put the thoughts together.  That needless to say has created crazy time when it comes to homework and testing and especially writing essays. 

 

We're truly been blessed and not really had to struggle too much through school.  Don't get me wrong there have been tears and bad grades and lots of crazy times but overall he will graduate with great scores and move on to college with a mind ready for more and I'm terrified.  I'm not afraid of the classes and what he will accomplish but I'm afraid of not being there.  When you do all you can for your kids and protect them and then realize that you still haven't faced it all you just want to protect them.  To keep them safe from the "normal" world out there that can't quite understand the normal that is your child.  I want to just be there.  To hold his hand or prod him or just be sure he doesn't get hurt.  And yet - I know that's not possible.  Because he has to move on and do it for himself.  He is way stronger than I am. 

 

Just the other day he told me a couple of things that revealed to me even more about how wise he is.  He said mom I'm glad I have ADD.  I wouldn't want to be "normal".  I'm used to my brain and I couldn't imagine it different.  It would be boring.  The cool thing about his normal is his amazing eye for art and detail.  He is so gifted and it brings a dimension to life that I might would have missed without him.  The other thing he told me was that he doesn't like to watch the news because bad stuff sometimes physically makes his heart hurt.  The compassion he has is amazing. 

 

As difficult as losing something is sometimes in that loss we get to be blessed even more.  God knew I needed this kid in my life.  To test and teach and build in me an acceptance that normal is not always what I think it should be.  Normal is relative to each person.  There really is nothing normal.  If we expect normal we will be disappointed.  Normal is just a word.  It really doesn't mean anything.  So just sit back and let God work His plan.  That - what God does in and through you - that's the only normal there is.