STILL ON HIATUS, BUT...

During this break from blogging, as I have been filling my personal journals, it seems most of my entries end with, "I am waiting, Lord.  I am waiting," or something similar.  I have been in a long, hard season where I feel as though I am being called to wait.  Because of this, a recent reading from Spurgeon resonnated deeply with my heart; I felt inclined to share it here:

Waiting may seem like an easy thing, but it’s a posture of heart most people cannot learn without years of refining.

Being in motion is much easier for God’s people than being still.

Even the most willing spirit, anxiously desiring to serve the Lord, may not know the direction of his leading, which can be so perplexing. What are the faithful to do? Shall we rush forward in presumption?  Do we lose heart or cower in fear? No, we must simply wait!

However, we must wait in prayer. Call upon God. Express your innermost thoughts to him; tell him your difficulties while calling upon his promises. When faced with a dilemma, humble yourself, with a surrendered heart, and wait upon the Lord.

Furthermore, it is important to know our limitations while boldly seeking guidance for God’s will.  We must wait in faith with an unstaggering confidence in the Lord; for unfaithful, untrusting waiting is an insult to God.  Be certain that if he keeps you waiting even until the last minute, that he will come, and it will be at the right time.

Wait with stillness and patience, not dissenting because of your affliction, but blessing and praising God in it. Never gripe about his plan, as the children of Israel did; do not wish for the past, but accept your life as it stands.  Embrace your circumstances, without stubbornness, committing your situation into the hands of your covenant God. 

Cry out to him saying, "Lord, not my will, but yours be done. I don’t know what to do; I am experiencing the limits of myself, but I will wait until you calm the floodwaters, and drive back our enemies, inviting me to proceed. I will wait, even if you delay for a long while.  My heart is fixed upon you alone, O God.  My spirit waits for you with full conviction that you will ever be my joy and my salvation, my refuge and my strong tower. Amen.”

I am waiting, Lord.  I am waiting.

Dear Readers…

Many of you have engaged my blog now for over three years, others of you have stumbled upon my journey more recently…whether long-time readers or new, and whether known to me or not, your desire to engage the depths of my heart has been a true gift. 

But now I must confess, somewhere along this path I feel as though I lost my grip on what originally compelled me to write—what was once simply my raw, honest thoughts made public, at times became an effort to please my readers and was periodically driven by pressure to keep people engaged.  I began to care too much about what others think when I write.

I am acutely aware of my need to get back to the raw, honest journaling that originally brought life to my soul.  And the best way I know how to do that is to remove those temptations to “please” and get back to simple, private writing for personal growth and expression. 

For quite some time I have been contemplating a blog-writing sabbatical, but recent circumstances have confirmed to me that now is the time to take a break.

So I am planning an indefinite blogging hiatus; I don’t know if it will be weeks or months but I am going to take time to refocus my writing.  At some point I expect I will begin blogging again, though I know not the form or function, but for now I am putting things on hold.

Though I am confident I am making the right decision, it carries great weight for me and I am saddened by the possibility of losing connection to you, my readers, but more than anything I pray I might be able to see God move and work anew, hoping to have a renewed sense of purpose when I return.  

During my blogging pause, I will make a more conscious effort to update people on any significant happenings in our lives through Levasheff Updates and I will continue to share our Joys of Jessie.

If you want to be informed when I resume my personal blog, you can request email notifications by clicking “Connect with Us” on the left-side toolbar and then clicking “Subscribe.”

Most of all, I want to underscore how valuable your support as a reader has been to me, and in many ways has upheld me on this incredibly difficult path I’ve been walking.  As I ask God to speak deeply to my heart during this time, my prayer is that he will do the same for each of you.

With much love and gratitude,
Christina

This song has really been speaking to my heart.

Last Wednesday Drake and I were offered an opportunity with great, but uncertain potential—we felt strongly inclined to pursue it, yet it has led us down a road of risk.  We have risked a huge amount of time (10-12 hours for several days**), energy, and resources, all of which we have had a limited supply, along with an emotional investment that can’t be overstated.

And now we’re waiting.  We’re waiting to see if our risk leads to great reward or enormous disappointment.

We all know that without taking risks in life, there is little to be gained.  But right now I am sitting with the very real possibility of disappointment…and I am not handling that prospect very well.

In one sense I look at the intense disappointment of God choosing not to heal Judson and every other disappointment pales in comparison.  But on the other hand, every subsequent disappointment after experiencing the death of my boy feels like it compounds my pain exponentially.

And so, here I sit—struggling in the waiting for fear that there is disappointment and discouragement on the other side.

**It is for this reason that I was unable to post my Thankful Thursday last week or do any other blog writing.  My Thankful Thursday this week would simply relfect my gratitude for this opportunity (despite my fears about the result).

While visiting the memorial park where Jud is buried, a mother (whom I met before) was kneeling by her 31-year-old son’s gravesite.  She was wailing and howling as she rocked herself back and forth, holding an object close to her chest.  To keep from disturbing her, I remained in my car.  But my window was down and her raw, heart-wrenching cries reverberated through my vehicle, tearing at my heart.

Yet, as I watched and listened to this sacred, private moment, tears flowing down my cheek, I found myself oddly comforted by the familiarity of her sounds.

I realized it was the first time I have ever heard, in person, the passionate cries of a broken mother coming from a voice other than my own.  These were the same sounds that periodically fill the closet of our home, my place of refuge for my most intense emoting.  And it was as though the brokenness of my heart was finding expression and solidarity in her guttural, visceral lament.

As I silently partook in her grief, my soul was strangely soothed by the commonality of our experience.

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Eyes that See & Judson's Legacy Update 

• TONIGHT (7/1 at 6 pm PST) and TOMORROW (7/2 at 3 pm PST) you can catch a live internet stream of my full-hour interview with Egypt McKee on Life Unplugged TV. 
  Click here to watch at those times!

1.  A timely tax return.

2.  A new windshield for our car.

3.  Fun at Pump it Up.

4.  Clean teeth from the dentist.

5.  Sweet conversation and coffee with my friend, Kathleen.

6.  Restful time in Ventura with Jessie and my parents.

7.  The sale of Drake’s car for the amount we had hoped.

8.  The recent investment and commitment of family and friends who believe in Judson’s Legacy.

I am fascinated by my own longings to memorialize everything that is somehow connected to our journey with Judson.

Almost two years ago, after we left a wedding, Drake and I discovered that the windshield on our car had somehow been cracked from top to bottom while we were inside the church celebrating the newly married couple.  But we hadn’t had the means to replace it until this week (thanks to a generous gift from loved ones). 

Yet strangely, when the time came to remove the old windshield, I wanted to keep it.  I wanted to memorialize it.  I wanted to preserve it…

This windshield was significant in my journey of faith during Judson’s suffering—it reminded me of my little man and God’s faithfulness during his suffering; it is the windshield that displayed the word “trust” scrawled into the steam (see below) and I had never washed the word away.

But as I talked about my struggle with family, they kindly noted, “This seems like one thing where you just need to let go!”

And they are right.  But letting go is so hard.  When we have already had to let go of SO much, the little things become far more significant.  Ultimately, I’m just desperate to hold Jud, to keep him close...but I can’t.  So instead, I’ve discovered that I hold tightly to anything that might somehow help me feel like he is near—even a car windshield.

After writing and posting about the Butterfly Circus, I checked my email and discovered a sweet gift from my friend, Rebekah.

For Judson's half birthday she had his name memorialized in the sand of an Australian beach through the ogranization To Write Their Names In the Sand, that is dedicated to honoring children who have lost their lives.  What Rebekah did not expect was that the woman also included a picture of a beautiful butterfly drawn into the sand with Judson's name above.  It is a creative, special, and sweet gift, again beautifully signifiying my hope represented in the butterfly.

Anyone who has followed my journey for a period of time knows that since losing Judson, the butterfly has become a sacred symbol of hope in my life.  Each intimate and unexpected encounter I’ve experienced with a floating silhouette gracefully paints the picture of magnificent new life, particularly Judson’s new life.

But what I had yet to recognize, until this weekend, is how the butterfly can also radiantly represent the regeneration of my own soul through suffering.

Never did I imagine when attending the film festival premiering Judson’s Eyes that I would end up viewing one of the most powerful, compelling, and beautiful films I have ever seen, poignantly speaking hope directly into the depths of my own struggle—symbolized with the butterfly.

And it felt as though the story of the Butterfly Circus seemed to brilliantly illustrate the beauty from ashes displayed in Judson’s Eyes. 

Dear Judson,

I so often wonder whether you see me now, whether you see how you remain part of our daily lives and conversation, whether you see all the amazing ways you continue to touch people’s hearts, or the little things we do to honor you. 

Today was especially one of those days.  I was shopping, blending, mixing, and baking, all for the purpose of celebrating the blessing of your life in honor of your half birthday…and I was left to wonder what you see, what you hear, what you now know.

Did you see me looking for just the right toy that I thought you might like?  Did you see me blending the bananas and sifting the whole wheat flour, wanting to give you a healthy treat just as I always did before?  Did you see me choosing the absolutely best cupcake from the batch to meticulously frost with extra icing for you? Did you hear Jessie ask if she could wear her "Jud Bud" shirt?  Did you see me cooking one of your favorite meals?  Did you see me set a place for you at the table?  Did you hear Jessie ask to eat the cupcakes outside so that you could hear us?   Did you see my tears—do you see my tears now?

How transparent is the veil between us from your point of view, Juddy?

Because sometimes I feel like I can practically reach out and touch you, feel you, smell you, and hear you.  But most of the time, I feel as though you are a thousand miles away and the curtain between us is especially think, dense, and opaque.

Are you near, Judson?  Do you actually watch over us, as so many say?  Are you peering into our lives and feeling our love?  Do you hear the words I speak and write to you?

Our relationship is full of mysteries to me, but I pray my undying, ever-growing love for you is never a mystery.

Today, I especially celebrate you and the 5 ½ years you have been a fundamental part of my life!  Happy Half Birthday, my little man!  I miss you SO much!!!!!

With My Whole Heart,
Mommy

Since the documentary has been on my mind all week, this Thankful Thursday reflects my gratitude for all the things surrounding the documentary.

1.   I am still in awe that Sun and Angela Kim read our story in a magazine (winter of 2008/2009) and through the prompting of the Spirit of God felt lead to initiate a documentary about Judson.  Wow!

2.  I could not express enough gratitude to Peter Chung, the filmmaker who gave his whole heart and soul to this project!  What an honor it is to have such a talented director share our story!!

3.  Talent 1 Media is an incredible organization that has been so supportive of our family and it was a gift to have Judson’s Eyes premiere at this film festival.

4.  We had so many friends and family come out for the event and even some unexpected guests that blew us away by their presence.  I am so grateful for the many loving and supportive people in our lives!

5.  It is an amazing blessing to have heard some of the stories of how the documentary and Judson affected people’s hearts who were present on Saturday.  I am so grateful and amazed by the ways God continues to work through the life of our son!

 6.  And the greatest gift to me was that after premiering the movie at 3 pm on Saturday, the festival administrators felt compelled to show the documentary again at 9 pm to a very full theatre!  They did not do this with any other film or project but it was clear God was stirring their hearts to share Jud’s story with more people.

Thank you, Lord, for giving us the amazing gift of seeing the manner in which you can take something that is so awful and use it to bring life.  Amen!

I have stared at a blank page every night this week, wanting to express our experience with the documentary, but words have been inadequate to describe all that has been stirred in my soul.  The experience on Saturday has been a constant on my mind and attached to a multiplicity of emotions that have been ever-flowing since.

When Peter, the Director of the film, first set foot in our home about a year and a half ago to interview us about the potential project, I had no idea how much this unknown, Korean man with long hair (he has since cut his hair) would become a dear part of our family and beloved brother.

Everything we have done to date in sharing Judson’s story, including the book, have been our own thoughts, feelings, and experience, not necessarily filtered through the lens of another.  So to hand our story over to someone who began as a “stranger” felt incredibly risky—the sharing of our journey would suddenly be subject to the interpretation of another.  Hence, when we first started this project, I could never have imagined how much we would grow to trust Peter and have complete confidence in the outcome.

Peter dove into our lives, into our joys and into our deep pain.  He chose to immerse himself in our experiences, often sitting on the other side of the camera with hot tears pouring down his cheeks.  He felt it all with us, not detached, but as a loving friend wanting to engage the depths of our souls.  And it was as though he was holding our precious Judson with utmost care, compassion, and tenderness.

Furthermore, Peter bathed the project in prayer, spoke of his filmmaking as an act of worship, and wanted only to use his talents to honor God.  Thus, the process of making the film became unquestionably glorious to God and beautiful to us.

In turn, the film was glorious and beautiful!

It was surreal to sit in a Los Angeles theatre and see our story play-out on the big screen before us.  Judson’s Eyes was so incredibly well-done and we were overwhelmed by the honor of being subjects of Peter’s work.  But more than anything, I was in awe of what God is doing to bring redemption through our pain.

I am challenged once again to humbly submit to all God may want to do with our lives and story!

For various reasons, I expect it will be several months before we are able to make the film available on Judson’s website but I certainly look forward to sharing it in the future…

I found myself on my knees this afternoon, calling out, “I need help, Lord.  I need help,” over and over again as my eyes swelled with tears.  The heaviness of life suddenly felt like it was going to crush me, leaving me struggling to find my next breath.

“Please help me, Lord!”  I exclaimed in the solitude of my bedroom.

On the floor in a heap, I noticed my phone on my nightstand and suddenly felt inclined to read Charles Spurgeon’s Morning by Morning (an application on my android):

“I need help, Lord.  I need help!”

1.  The opportunity we have been given to attend the Krabbe symposium in July this year.  It will be Drake’s first time attending and I look forward to experiencing it together as a family.

2.  A fun family trip to Disneyland and the gift of having Drake with us.

3.  Health insurance.

4.  Watching Drake as a dad and the way he loves BOTH his kids so well!

5.  Auntie Rachel and her love for Jessie-Girl.  She took Jess on a date this week and spoiled her with accessories for her hair and more.

6.  The way Jessie touches my heart by wanting to release every balloon she receives to her brother.

7.  The fun of a spontaneous ski ball tournament as Drake and I were walking by Chuck E. Cheese.

8.  Having lunch with my little girl at the local nature center and putting our toes in the waterfall.

9.  Seeing the beauty of metamorphosis in action…

Today, June 13^th, marks three years since I took Judson to our local medical center with concerns for his health; the words from the doctor still ring in my ears, “This is likely very serious.  We need to do an emergency MRI.”

And from that moment our lives were to be horrifically changed forever…because of Krabbe disease.

I hate Krabbe disease.  I hate it with every ounce of my being.  I hate what it did to my little boy.  I hate what it does to other children.*  I hate how it slowly sucks every bit of bodily life out of a child while all who love them are tormented as they must powerlessly watch.   And I hate how it leads to a bottomless well of pain.

As I see it, Krabbe disease is right out of the pit of hell; it is so evil, wretched, heinous, wicked, and dreadful.   It intimately reminds me that the enemy prowls around like a roaring lion seeking to devour and destroy (1 Peter 5:8) and he would delight in seeing Krabbe disease demolish families, faith, and hope.

But in actuality, experiencing the evil of Krabbe disease has caused me to hold more tightly to the One who is good, to the God who loves and cares for me.  Although it has been three years since that horribly fateful day, and my life has since been lived in a sea of pain, I am reminded that this suffering is but for a little while (though it doesn't usually feel like it) and some day, the God of all grace will call me into eternal glory, just as he did my Judson, and the Lord himself will restore me (1 Peter 5:10).  But until that glorious moment, I am resolved to hate what is evil and cling to what is good .

Thus, I hate Krabbe disease, but I cling to God!

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Eyes that See & Judson's Legacy Update 

• This Saturday, June 19th, at 3 pm is the premiere of "Judson's Eyes," a 15-minute documentary about our little boy, directed by Peter Chung.  The Talent One Media Film Festival at the Japanese American Cultural & Community Center in Los Angeles is open to everyone with a suggested donation of $10 that will benefit efforts to end human trafficking.  If you live in the area, please consider joining us for this cool event!
• We are extending an Eyes that See opportunity to just my faithful blog readers.  For the next 2 weeks you can purchase a personalized signed copy on Judson's website for just $12 ($3 s/h USA).  On the PayPal page, click "Add Special Instructions to Merchant."  Type BLOGREADER and give instructions as to whom you'd like the book to be personalized.  We are grateful for your support as a reader of my blog! 
• Did you know Eyes that See is available internationally?  You can find the book at Amazon UK or Infibeam.

*This post is dedicated to all the families I know who have lost children and grandchildren to Krabbe disease.  This evening I think especially of Melissa Boice who lost her beautiful son, Kenji, to late-onset Krabbe disease on June 13, 2008 -- two years ago today.