We had a day of filming for the documentary last weekend and as I sat down to have my intimate thoughts about Judson recorded, I was stunned by the waterfall of tears that abruptly sprung from my eyes before even opening my mouth to speak.  A dam ruptured.

Sadly, it seems over time, for various reasons, some of my outlets for expressing grief have become clogged, slowly creating blockades that permit access to certain feelings.  So when permission was given to open the blocked gateways to my heartache, the emotions forcefully cascaded from the easily obstructed portals. 

I was reminded how vital it is to have regular channels for expressing my ever-present sorrow.  And although I was bashful about gushing in that context, allowing my deep well of heartache to newly spill open felt healthy and refreshing.

1.  How do I even begin to express gratitude for the woman who bore me and would do anything for me?  My mom had her birthday this week and there are no words that adequately articulate my thankfulness for her.  When life has been filled with severe ups and downs she has been a constant in friendship, support, sacrifice, and love.  She weeps with me, laughs with me, and listens to me.  I cannot imagine life without her!

2.  When we were approached to have a short-feature documentary produced about Judson, I never imagined that we would be so profoundly touched by the director of the film.  Peter, an incredibly gifted filmmaker, has absolutely immersed himself in our story, spending hours with each person who has been intimately involved in our journey, watching every bit of footage I have of Judson (hours upon hours of video), reading everything I have written, but most of all, deeply feeling the pain with us.  He has given so much of himself to this project and I am tremendously grateful for him.

3.  I get such joy from watching Jessie play with her grandparents and am thankful for the time we had with them this week.

4.  I spent over an hour today lying on a bench off a local hiking path, listening to the wind, breathing the fresh, crisp air after the rain, and staring at the crystal blue sky.  I am grateful for the opportunity provided by my father-on-law to spend substantial time in solitude on Thursday afternoons.

5.  There is a public farm just a mile from our home that is a free source of fun, fascination, and learning.  As an animal lover, I found myself smiling ear-to-ear with gratitude this week as a calf licked my hands, a 2-day-old goat nursed from its mama, and a piglet squealed.  I marveled at God’s diverse and creative design reflected in the livestock on the farm and am thankful that Jessie has a similar love for animals!

6.  Every week now, I have been discovering flowers at Judson’s gravesite.  My heart melts that someone is taking the time to regularly acknowledge Jud in this way. 

7.  It was a blessing to gather together with my brother and his family to celebrate my mom’s birthday this week and I am thankful that Jessie has such neat cousins.

I was sitting on Judson’s bench this weekend as Jessie played on the nearby playground equipment.  While in a trance, caught in memories of Jud running and jumping on the little bridge directly in front of me, a father came and also sat down on the bench.  He struck up small talk with me, unknowingly disrupting my musing over Jud Bud.  As we chatted, a little boy suddenly came bounding over – a bright toe-head in a Lightning McQueen hat—and proceeded to give his dad, the man seated next to me, a high five and then went back to running around in the dirt.

“How old is your son?” I inquired, imagining my Juddy running up to slap-me-some-skin too.

“He’s five,” the man responded, full of well-warranted fatherly pride.

“Wow,” I replied under my breath with a deep sigh, taken back by his son’s similarity in age to Judson.

As the dad continued talking, my mind was all tied up in my little man as I tried to listen.  Part of me felt compelled to tell this dad about my beloved boy who had a mutual love for Lightning McQueen with an age that paralleled his son…but I chose to keep my silence.

Meanwhile, as we sat together on my Juddy’s bench, the heel of his shoe covering part of the memorial plaque cemented in the ground, I couldn’t help but consider how he had absolutely no idea that the woman sitting next to him is the mother of the little boy whose name is embossed in bronze under his foot.  This man was completely unaware that he and his boy were forcefully colliding with the sorrow in my heart.

Subsequently, I started to wonder what invisible pains might be in his heart.  Perhaps, unbeknownst to me, I was triggering his brokenness.  And maybe not him, but possibly someone else I had interacted with that day – the person I passed on my walk in the morning, or the grocer at our local market, or the man sitting at the adjacent table in Starbucks.  Did they have unseen anguish?  Did I inadvertently joggle their undetected pains?

It is odd how we can brush up against people every day, with stories just as real and significant as our own, yet never know what might be behind their sweet smile, distant stare, deep sigh, or nervous laugh.  It is a reminder to never forget that every pair of eyes reflects a unique journey of trials and triumph, inherently valuable, whether known or not.

I want to see outside myself to the stranger beside me.

Awhile back I was invited to write an article for Christian Women Online magazine about God’s grace through Judson’s suffering and death, and asked specifically to describe the manner in which God has carried us through our circumstances.  Occasionally, I check to see if there are any new comments posted to the article.

The other day I noted a new comment but was a bit taken back by the content…

“Sucks to be you!” it read.

The remark lingered in my mind.  Interestingly, it wasn’t the clearly callous and heartless nature of the response that caused me to pause, it was the substance of what was being communicated; the author was overtly expressing contempt for my life.

A comment such as this can tempt me into self-pity, buying the lies that my life indeed “sucks,” enticing me to scorn my suffering.

Truth be told, most of us want a life that would be desirable to others; we want experiences that are attractive and might even elicit yearning and envy from people.  We expect to feel validated if somehow others find our journey to be alluring.  Living in this world we are bombarded with tweaked messages that assign skewed value to various life experiences and it is easy to digest these lies.

Since losing Judson, I have been faced with a life that others might consider unappealing or even loathsome.  On one level it stings, but on a much deeper level I find myself overcome with the hope that the Lord, in fact, honors that which the world deems unattractive.  He blesses the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst, the persecuted, and more (Matthew 5) – those who are rejected by the world are cherished by God.  He esteems that which is disregarded.  He values what is despised.  He adores what is mocked.

So where the world may look at my experience and say, “Sucks to be you!” I want to lean into my Father who declares, “Beloved are you!”

1.  We have received some special words of encouragement from various people this week that have been a gift to help us keep plugging away even in our moments of significant discouragement.  So thankful for the supportive words from others!

2. Jessie hit another milestone this week, turning 3 ½.  How do I even describe the overflowing gratitude I feel in my heart for the Ladybug in our lives?!  My life is flooded with blessing and joy because of Jessie and I cherish every moment I am given with her.

3.  I marvel at the heart of my husband and am so proud of the gifts he has been given.  I was thankful for the opportunity to see Drake preach at our church on Sunday.  The last couple times he has preached at different churches and I wasn’t able to be there and it is a gift to see him in action – passionate, reflective, insightful, and solid!  You can click here to hear his message from Sunday.

4.  It was an honor to promote Judson’s book on the radio program Talk from the Heart with Rich Buhler on Tuesday and I am especially grateful for the manner in which he so skillfully and compassionately engaged our story while asking great, pertinent questions.  I am also very thankful to our friend Karise who pursued getting us on his show (you can click here to hear a recorded version of the show).

5.  I am grateful to have friends with very specific gifts who are willing to share them to help others.  This week I was specifically thankful for our friend, Eric, who is extremely tech savvy and helped us with some media needs.

6.  My nephew, Cameron, turned 13 this week.  I am so proud of him and thankful to be his aunt.  He is such a mature, bright, thoughtful, sensitive, talented, and very handsome young man...now a teenager!

7.  We were touched to have someone from our church, that we don’t really even know, leave a couple princess books on our porch for our little lady after hearing Drake mention in his sermon that Jess likes being a princess.  We are blown away and incredibly grateful for such thoughtfulness!

8.  My friends Sarah, Kelly, and I started a dinner/coffee club this week and the three of us will be meeting together regularly to intentionally share life.  I am extremely grateful for the two of them!

I am one of the millions of people who have found Facebook to be a great place to connect with old friends and keep in touch with people.  Though not part of my regular Facebook routine, I periodically take the time to read through the recent status updates posted by my friends. 

For those who are unfamiliar, status updates are a means by which people can post a brief message about absolutely anything, able to be quickly read by their network of trusted friends: updates are often recent activities, random thoughts, current gripes, favorite quotes, humor, etc.

As I was reading through the status updates of my Facebook friends the other day, I was struck by the diversity of personal experience all occurring within a three hour time period –strangely, this slice of life proved to be an accurate glimpse into the assortment of emotions constantly coexisting throughout the world.  Here is a sampling of status updates from my friends last Friday morning:

• Friend 1:  Please pray.  Our little Casey is having surgery to put tubes in her ears.


• Friend 2:  57 days and counting 'til our wedding...


• Friend 3:  My first teaching assignment today--exciting and scary.


• Friend 4:  Last day of vacation on the Hawaiian islands!


• Friend 5:  I feel queasy. Blah.


• Friend 6:  Happy 5th birthday to our precious granddaughter "Princess Leah."


• Friend 7:  Lazy Friday morning...in our pj's coloring, doing puppets shows, drinking coffee, making muffins.


• Friend 8:  Patti has developed pneumonia, is still on a respirator, heart 20-25% functioning.  Situation is "iffy."


• Friend 9:  Made it out the door with all four kids for the first time by myself today!


• Friend 10:  My hubby has the awesome task of buying us a new HDTV.


• Friend 11:  When climbing life's hills, be sure to pause every now and then and look back to see how far you've come.  It can help push you further on.


• Friend 12:  Stuck on the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland.


• Friend 13:  Please God....don’t take Gabriel too! [Her first son died of an unknown leukodystrophy and her other son is afflicted with the same disease and currently in ICU fighting for his life.]

It is so jarring to read about one friend who is desperately crying out to God to spare the life of her child meanwhile another is excited to get a new TV.  While one person is having fun on vacation, starting a new job, celebrating a birthday, or preparing for marriage, another person is feeling under the weather, holding the hand of their child about to have surgery, or actually fearing for the life of a loved one.  It is bizarre to consider how at any given moment there are friends in my life who are facing the deepest of affliction, and at the same time others are overjoyed by their circumstances.

Life is strange.

Each person is on such a distinct journey, full of ups and downs.  And while my heart aches deeply for one friend, it rejoices with another, all the while also feeling my own emotions fluctuate each day over the circumstances in my life.

But as I have stated in previous blogs, I am discovering that to live wholly and love well seems to necessitate engaging it all, the joy and pain, along with everything in between, often even at the same time.

Half birthdays were deemed worthy of celebration in our home when Judson was born on Christmas Eve.  Faced with trying to determine how to best celebrate Jud’s life while making it unique from our Christmas celebrations, we started the half birthday plan.  And when Jessie was born, to be equally charitable, we decided to do a small shout-out to her on her half birthdays as well.  And so our plan was set in place.

When Judson died, the need to celebrate Jessie’s half birthday for the sake of equality became unnecessary.

But we are continuing the tradition anyway…

Yesterday was Jessie’s half birthday.  And, of course, she enthusiastically embraced her special day.  It brought great joy to my heart as I watched our little lady delight in her cupcake with 3 ½ candles, and the small gift we gave her.  But especially sweet to me was the feeling that we were honoring Judson too; for it is because of Jud that we took special time to honor Jessie’s life yesterday.

Over the years, I look forward to sharing with Jessie how her half birthday celebrations are one of the many sweet gifts that have come from her brother’s life.

Recently, I have been struck by the many moments when Drake and I have been in a situation where we are amongst other people and suddenly something occurs that causes our eyes to lock on one another in understanding and solidarity, even if we are across the room from each other.  It is as if everything else in our surroundings fades away and without a word between us, we have an idea what the other is thinking or feeling in that moment.  While those around us are oblivious, we share a look that speaks volumes, without a need for words.

These shared looks are a sweet gift and remind me that I am truly connected to someone else.  Drake knows me well enough (or I know him well enough) to recognize what the other might be thinking or feeling in a circumstance when everyone else seems to keep moving -- unaffected. 

And Drake is not the only one…these shared looks occur in any real relationship where there is a level of intimacy able to perceive the heart of another.   I have noted that my heart and soul are also intertwined enough with some of my family and friends to share looks of awareness when the rest of the world seems unaware.

Shared looks remind me that I am not alone.

1.  This week, I am most struck by God’s hand on our lives, grateful that even when our story is not the path we would have ever chosen, he is clearly involved and moving in ways we could never orchestrate ourselves (see Exciting News for more).

2.  Last Friday we shared a meal with our friends, the Robecks, who prepared amazing homemade Mexican food, along with some Valentine’s fun.  It was wonderful!  But more than anything, we are grateful for the love, support, and compassion they have shown our family.  Truly a blessing!

3.  I am grateful for friends who lets us crash their pad for community TV viewing (24 and Survivor).  Thanks Carpenters and Bobars!

4.  Drake had the day off on Monday and I loved the time the three of us spent together at Balboa Island – playing in the sand and water while hunting for crabs (in February!).  I caught myself trying to breathe deeply of the joy.

5.  I am incredibly grateful for my sister-in-law, Danielle.  As we chatted on the phone a couple times this week, I found myself overflowing with gratitude for her authenticity, her insight, her passion, and her love.  I was especially brought to tears over her love for Judson, her nephew.  She is a gem and I am blessed that Drake has such a cool sister!

6.  Spent some time yesterday at the local Nature Center and watched Jessie and her friend Isaac play in a spot where I remember Judson frolicking about.  My heart swelled with gratitude for my many sweet memories with Jud and that I am being given the gift to make more sweet memories with my Jessie-Girl.

7.  I am thankful that Drake has the opportunity to preach at our home church this Sunday.

8.  As I have watched my black eye slowly heal this last week, I am so grateful for the way God made our bodies to mend.  Amazing!

There is a technique in filmmaking whereby a highly busy street scene is sped up in fast motion, but there is one person in real time amidst the hurried landscape. 

I am that person.

Somehow, since losing Judson, I feel like I am in a time-warp, everything surrounding me moving at a rapidly different pace.  It is a strange sensation, like being in slow motion.  While society seems to be in a constant state of activity, bustling around me, I am simply waiting, feeling, hoping, reflecting, but moving ever so slowly in relation to my environment. 

My world stopped completely one day...and my pace has yet to catch up with the rest of the world around me.

As I was preparing dinner tonight I grabbed some bowls for salad, laid them out on the counter, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a bag of baby greens.  When I turned around to start making the salad and caught a glimpse of the counter, my heart sank.

“Oh man!” I mournfully exclaimed.

Drake moved swiftly into the kitchen, “What happened?”

“Four bowls!” I sorrowfully replied pointing at the Corning Ware situated before me.  “I pulled out four bowls.”

I stared at the two big bowls and two little bowls – they seemed like a perfect set.

Gripped by sadness, I placed both hands on the counter, hung my head, and inhaled deeply, all the while wondering How did I end up with four bowls?  Knowing what was necessary, I slowly picked up one of the little bowls, walked across the kitchen, and opened the cupboard, tears pooling in my eyes.

“Oh how I wish you were here eating with us, Juddy,” I whispered as I placed the little bowl back on the shelf.

With my yearning heart I stared at the three bowls that remained – definitely an incomplete set.

On Monday morning Jessie and I were having fun wrestling in the living room; she would repeatedly jump on me and then squirm out of my arms.  However, at one point I grabbed her to pull her back into my embrace and the crown of her head nailed me below my eye.  She was fine, but I felt an immediate knot swell under my eye socket.  It wasn’t discolored, just puffy.

However, when I woke Wednesday morning and looked in the mirror, I had an all-out shiner.  Generally speaking, a black-eye is not much of a boost for feeling presentable amongst people.   But I found it all the more ironic that in a couple hours I was going to be teaching Bible Study for the women at our church.

So as I stepped on stage with my shiner in all its glory, it could not have been more apropos that I had entitled my study Imperfect People: Graciously Part of God’s Perfect Plan (Genesis 25-27).  My physical imperfection proved to be a relevant outward symbol for all the blemishes and flaws in my soul.

Isn’t it amazing that God allows us to be part of his plan despite our shortcomings, weaknesses, stains, and limitations?!

Grace.

1.   As I sit in solitude on a lifeguard station at our local beach, it being the middle of winter with the sun shining on my face, I am so grateful to live in such a beautiful area where I am only a couple miles from the ocean, mesmerized by the beauty of God’s creation.

2.  I was struck this week how Jessie, in particular, has been lovingly “adopted” in our church community and is regularly showered with kindness.  Yesterday, it was “Mrs. Toberty” who gave her a cloth flower for Valentine’s day that she has since been toting everywhere while wearing the pink boots that “Mrs. Turney” gave her.  My heart swells with gratitude when I consider the numerous ways people at our church continue to reach out in thoughtfulness toward our Jessie-Girl.

3.  I received a hand-written letter of encouragement this week that was such a sweet reminder of how much Drake and I have been loved and supported on this journey.  I am so grateful for the numerous people who continue to uphold us in ways we never even see or know!

4.  Drake is a trooper.  I am incredibly thankful for his willingness to spend three evenings with just Jessie this week so I could have time to prepare to teach Bible Study yesterday.  His support means so much to me!

5.  We closed out our vacation in Palm Springs on Thursday and Friday of last week with the company of Sarah and Dean.  It is a gift to have friends with whom we can share vacation, laughter, tears, and honest conversation about the joys and trials of life.  I am incredibly thankful for the constancy of friendship with the Bobars.

Driving home from Palm Springs after being gone for the week, I was filled with great anticipation and excitement over the impending reunion with my little “Buggy B” – incredibly anxious to see her! 

Unfortunately, the car trip that should have taken only about 2 ½ hours turned into more than a 4 hour drive because of traffic and rain.  So by the time we finally reached our exit and pulled off the freeway, I was hootin’ and hollarin’ in the car with enthusiasm at the thought of soon holding my sweet lady.

Then my thoughts immediately shifted to Judson.  Struck by my eagerness to be reunited with Jessie after only 6 days, I imagined how it would pale in comparison to the reunion with my Buddy Boo after a lifetime.  Oh, the thought of holding my sweet man.

As a gesture to connect, I gently placed my left hand over Jud's name engraved on my wrist and whispered under my breath, “Someday soon, Juddy.  Someday soon.”

Eagerly I wait.

We have been in Palm Springs for the week, giving me so many reasons to be grateful…

1.  I am incredibly thankful to my parents who offered us their timeshare and are watching Jessie (and Howie) all week.  It is because of their gift of time, resources, and love that Drake and I have been able to enjoy some much needed rest and relaxation.

2.  The room where we are staying has a view of the mountains that includes snow-capped peaks bordering the desert.  It is absolutely stunning!  I am in awe of God’s creation and filled with gratitude for the way it draws me into worship of the Maker of Heaven and Earth.

3.  I am grateful for the laughter, tears, and even the moments of frustration that Drake and I have been able to share this week.

4.  As Drake and I were hiking through the Indian Canyon trails today and we passed a woman with a cane hobbling along on the arm of another hoping to see the beauty of the oasis,  I was reminded just how much the ability to walk is a gift.  I am grateful to be able to walk, run, hike, skip, and climb.

Drake and I are currently in Palm Springs.  I didn’t realize until we were driving here and memories suddenly came flooding back to me that the last time I visited the desert was with my Jud Bud.  Judson was 13 months old; he and I (Drake had to work) had driven out to spend a little time with my parents while they were vacationing in the dessert.

I vividly recall that it was during our visit to the palms that Judson truly started walking for the first time.  He had been taking steps for several weeks prior, but it was during our stay that he stepped out on his own, walking briskly with pride and enthusiasm.

The pivotal moment came as we were meandering into the grocery store…Judson suddenly and bravely let go of my hand, confidently taking steps on his own, grinning from ear to ear at his accomplishment.  As a new mom, I watched with awe and wonder, matching his pride and enthusiasm.   My heart was full of joy!  In that moment, my little guy discovered upright mobility and there was no turning back.  All over Palm Springs I have memories of my precious boy waddling like Frankenstein into my outstretched arms.

This morning I decided to pull up pictures from our visit to the desert to further engage those memories.  I was taken back to discover that it was exactly four years ago today, February 2, 2006, here in the desert, that my Juddy started walking.  And little did I know, 17 months later, after becoming paralyzed, my beloved boy would once again bravely take his first steps…into the arms of Jesus.

In many ways, since losing Judson, I have been paralyzed too, very slowly discovering what it means to walk again.  I am reminded this week, here in the desert where Judson started walking, that even if I am uncoordinated and awkward in my steps, that I too, need to be brave, keeping my eyes on the outstretched arms lovingly cheering me on, waiting to one day embrace me.   And as I step out in faith, my ability to walk again will grow.

For various reasons, I have been going to sleep feeling sad the last several nights.

Having run out of tissue beside my place of slumber, yesterday morning I went under the cabinet and grabbed a new box, placing it on the night stand next to my side of the bed.

Last night when I laid my head on the pillow, once again, tears were flowing.  I rolled over to grab a tissue and saw these words…

It startled me out of my sorrow.  Staring at me on a tissue box, of all things, was the truth that even though my tears tend to flow in solitary moments, I am never alone in my brokenness.  God has promised, “I’m there when you’re sad.”

Strangely, I found true comfort for my aching heart by reaching for a tissue.

1.  I have been feeling a little sick the last two days and it reminds me how thankful I am for health – not just health from sniffles, sneezes, and coughs, but I am incredibly grateful not to have any chronic ailments or physical disabilities that affect my day-to-day living.  I have been given a HUGE gift in being healthy!

2.  The other day Jessie wasn’t sleeping during her nap so I randomly decided to climb in bed with her and we snuggled for over an hour.  She showered me with thousands of kisses (which is uncommon for my little lady from whom I usually have to “steal” my kisses).  I laid there in bed with tears in my eyes as I marveled at the gift I was holding in my arms -- so grateful for the unplanned opportunity to connect with my Jessie-Girl!

3.  Our clothes dryer broke a couple weeks ago and my parents graciously offered to give us their washer and dryer (and purchased a new set).  They even drove 2 hours (both directions) to deliver it to us in their truck on Saturday.  The generosity of my folks truly met a need for us and it has been wonderful to no longer have piles of laundry in our home.  We are also very grateful to the Robecks who gave up time on Saturday to help us move the washer and dryer into our home!

4.  I was honored to speak with a Women’s Fellowship on Sunday evening and grateful for the encouragement from the ladies and especially the passion some had to further share Judson’s story.

5.  Auntie Rachel spoiled our Jess last night when they went out on a “date” together.  I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the role Rachel has intentionally and sacrificially played in Jessie’s life ever since Judson got sick.  She holds a very special place in Jessie’s life (and ours) modeling a young woman seeking to honor God with her heart and choices…what a blessing to us as parents to have someone like that seeking relationship with our little girl!

6.  I am very grateful to my friend Anne who was willing, at the last-minute, to let Jessie come and hang out in her home  with her and her son Isaac on Tuesday so that I could finish my preparations to teach at our church on Wednesday.

7.  I was pulled over in my car today because the tags on our vehicle were not up-to-date.  Unfortunately, I had not printed our most recent insurance cards either so my insurance cards were expired.  I was extremely grateful when the police officer allowed me to show him an electronic copy of our up-to-date insurance records on my phone and even though a hard copy is legally required and he did not give me a ticket for lacking proof of insurance.  I am thankful for his graciousness and  that I have a phone that gives me access to that kind of information at my fingertips!

8.  When I drove up to Judson’s gravesite this afternoon, I was really touched to discover that someone had left beautiful red roses for our boy.  My heart swelled with thankfulness to whomever it was that expressed love for our Juddy in this manner!

Time keeps rushing forward
While you’re getting left behind.
With each rapidly passing moment
I’m involuntarily thrust ahead.

You stand still behind me.
Frozen.
I move farther from you.
Resistant.

But I’m constantly looking back,
Outstretched hand
Crying for you to be near.
Aching.

Instead
You are getting farther and farther away.
Harder to see.
More obscured by the distance.

The expanse between us grows,
And familiarity diminishes.
My years with you
Becoming a mirage.

You stand still behind me.
Frozen.
I move farther from you.
Resistant.

Then I look forward.

On the horizon
You are waiting.
Outstretched hand
Patient for me to come near.
Secure.

I want to run ahead.

Instead
I must wait.
But you are getting closer and closer.

As the expanse between us shrinks,
Hope grows.
Eternity with you
One day a reality.

You stand still before me.
Alive.
I move closer to you.
Eager.

I just sent Jud’s crib away with a woman named Heather and a little baby girl named Avery Jane growing in her womb.  I became so emotional as she shut the door on her car…she has no idea what that crib means to me; she is driving off with a little piece of my boy.

More letting go…

1.  As the rain pours down in our area this week, I have found myself full of gratitude for the roof over our heads.  Over the last four years I have become acquainted with a kind, local woman who lives without a home and uses the bathroom at our park as her own; I have thought of her many times this week as I have been sitting in our warm townhouse watching the downpour.  I am incredibly grateful to have never been without shelter!

2.  Grateful to have insurance which allowed me to visit the dentist this week.

3.  Blessed that Jessie is developing some sweet friendships and was especially grateful for little Emma this week.  Emma is just 3 months older than Jess and the daughter of my friend, Kelly, that I grew up with.  I enjoyed taking the two girls out this week and watching them play, chat, and have fun together!

4.  I am grateful that Drake had the day off on Monday in honor of MLK and that the three of us had the chance to spend the morning together laughing, playing, going to the pet store, watching Jess run around at the indoor playground in the mall, and enjoying the rainfall at the coffee shop together.

5.  I am honored, encouraged and thankful to have received an invitation to be interviewed on the radio program Talk from the Heart with Rich Buhler toward the end of February.

My heart joins the multitudes in brokenness over the cataclysmic devastation from the earthquake in Haiti.

As I sat in our home two nights ago looking at pictures of Haitians in agony, bodies of loved ones lining the streets, piles of rubble, and severe injuries still untreated, I could hardly breathe.  To taste even for a moment the suffering that instantaneously overtook this already impoverished nation leaves me shuddering in pain, feeling completely powerless, frantically grasping for some way to help, and crying out to God for mercy.

God, why would you allow this?

I am torn apart, struggling to understand how God can redeem this kind of catastrophic suffering, how he can possibly take this evil of epic proportions and use it for good?

...Then I read stories of Haitians singing hymns to God in the town square, crying out to the Lord in praise and worship with surrendered hearts.  I see people all over the world uniting in compassion to meet the needs of a desperate nation.  I see Americans entrenched in a culture of entitlement newly grateful for all they have.  I see hardened hearts calling upon God in prayer.   I see creativity, gifts and talents being used to make a difference.  I see small glimpses of good. 

More than anything, I am convicted that there needs to be praise on my lips, compassion in my heart, increased gratitude for all I have.  May it cause me to fall on my knees in submissive prayer and challenge me to use my gifts to make a difference. 

My finite mind cannot begin to comprehend this tragedy, Father, please show me what I can do!

1. Being the week of our anniversary, the greatest thing that stands out to me this week is gratitude for my hubby.  I am incredibly grateful for our 14 years of marriage and blessed to have had Drake in my life for 17 years now.  As he said in my anniversary card yesterday, “We may never have an explanation of why life has been as challenging for us as it has been, but we trust in One whose love is bigger and deeper than any darkness that we’ve walked through and fall to our knees in gratitude for the blessing of our life together and the Grace that has upheld us.”  I am thankful to be tied to such a faithful, honorable, and genuinely kind-hearted man!

2. As Jessie was riding her bike to Starbucks this week, I was acutely aware of all the wonderful and unexpected gifts people have given Jessie and so incredibly touched by the love and care people have shown for her.

3. Grateful for my friend, Kelly, that I have known since Jr. High.  We got together on Friday and I was reminded what a gift it is to have a friend living nearby that I have known much of my life.  Because I do not live in the area where I grew up, few of my local relationships have the history of long-term friendship.  But I have a lot of history with Kelly (who lives less than 10 miles away): we played youth basketball together, went to church together in high school, double-dated for the prom, she was a candle-lighter in my wedding, we worked together at Biola, she and her husband Craig spoke at Jud’s memorial service, and it is a gift that we continue to share life together.  Our relationship has gone through different seasons but I have found this most recent season to be the richest thus far.

4. Grateful for the conversation I had Saturday night with my friend, Laura, and her honest seeking.  I was challenged and sharpened by our time together,  feeling solidarity in our questions, while also being able to laugh together.

5. It is a very little thing, but I am grateful that my ice tea refills at Starbucks are now free!

6. Grateful for my new friend, Cristina, and the chance to sip tea together on Monday.  I am humbled by the manner in which she is constantly thinking of ways she can use her gifts and talents to share Judson’s story.   Her support is a HUGE gift!

7. Grateful to the anonymous person in our church who offered us a generous, thoughtful gift yesterday.

8. Grateful for the loving, compassionate hug I received from a stranger yesterday.

Thank you, Lord, for all these blessings and more!

*Amy, thank you for continually blessing us with your amazing talents.  Your videos always touch our hearts!

As I experience more with age, I have become acutely aware that life is a constant yielding of hopes and expectations, some big and some small, but this journey is often not what we planned.

Drake and I celebrate 14 years of marriage on Wednesday…and as I reflect on our years together, I almost have to chuckle at how different our life is from what we envisioned it to be. 

I remember sitting on a curb in the parking lot outside my residence hall in college, months before our wedding, discussing with Drake what we imagined for our married life at this stage of the journey: owners of a modest home, four kids who would now be between the ages of 5-12, Drake would be long done with his PhD and teaching at a local Christian college, so on and so forth.

Our life hardly resembles those dreams.

Disappointments, hardships, and challenges edge into life, pushing out or completely squelching many hopes and aspirations.

Our friend who just discovered the baby developing in her womb has Down Syndrome.  Yield.
Our friend who finds herself in a marriage with an alcoholic.   Yield.
Our friends who lost their house because they couldn’t afford it.  Yield.
Our friends whose mom was just sent home to die of cancer.  Yield.
Our friends who are infertile.  Yield.
Our friends who have been without work for months.  Yield.
Our friend who remains single with a longing to be married.  Yield.

Life is a constant yielding of hopes and expectations.

But strangely, in my own life, I have actually discovered that it is through the yielding that I have found God.  The disappointments, hardships, and challenges have grown the space for God to work and move in my heart.

I continue to hope and dream, knowing there is more to be surrendered in my future, but I invite God to work in the yielding and trust that he will do so.

I have never been a very anxious person.  I remember many years ago a friend who works in health care mentioned that most people are either prone to anxiety or depression.  Of course some struggle with both and some neither, but most tend one direction or the other.  Whether or not her statement is accurate, her assertion resonated with my own life; I have long been prone to depression, my heart easily apt to get discouraged, but have had little propensity toward fear or worry.

Depression continues to lurk at my door, but recently I have found anxiety knocking loudly too.  Fears have been running rampant in my mind: fears for Jessie, anxiety about our future, worry over our finances, apprehension over Judson’s book, concerns for Drake, and the list could go on and on.  I feel freshly vulnerable and afraid…anxious like I have never experienced before.

I have had to newly engage this verse in Scripture that calls me to release all my cares to the Lord.  And as I meditate on this lofty call to let go of my fears, it is not the directive given in the first half of the verse that stands out to me, but rather, the reason provided for such.

Why am I called to cast all my anxiety on God?  Because he cares for me.  In fact, God’s love is the catalyst that enables me to fling myself into his arms, leaving every worry behind; banking on my Father’s care is foundational to being free of fear.

So what has lead to my experiences of anxiety lately?

When my heart begins to question his divine love, fears ensue.  I can release my crushing burdens far more easily when I am resting in the Lord’s complete care for me, when I am confident he is lovingly upholding me.  But when uncertainty arises, so does the worry.

Sadly, I sense recent cracks and fissures in the foundation of my trust in God’s love for me.  My unrest has stemmed from murmuring, unwelcomed voices creeping into my heart telling me that God is not concerned about me, that I have been forgotten by him.  Of course, my mind knows otherwise, but my heart is struggling to find the comfort that comes from digesting God’s love and knowing that he is intimately involved in the details of my life...that he cares deeply for me.  Past and current hurts leave me struggling to feel my Father’s care.

Oh heart of mine, do not forget God’s tender love, you need not doubt his care.  Even in the throes of hardship and moments when you feel unheard by him, let his truth and grace pour over you, remembering all he has done to uphold you in the darkness and shower you with love.   Cast your cares upon him!

A barometer is an instrument used to measure atmospheric pressure -- the pressure tendency, in turn, can forecast short term changes in the weather.  

Over and over again the Lord impresses upon my heart the power of gratitude to reshape and transform my heart.  I have come to believe that the degree to which we are grateful can serve as a barometer for our soul.  That in fact, our level of thankfulness can forecast short term changes in our outlook on life and personal circumstances.

We are called to gratitude again and again in Scripture, which I have come to embrace as God graciously inviting me into sweeter life.  A life of gratitude acknowledges that all I have is a gift, right down to my every breath, and bows before the Giver of all – correspondingly enabling contentment whatever my situation.  But sometimes, especially when my circumstances are difficult, gratitude has required discipline; it is like a muscle I need to exercise by consciously and methodically bowing my heart in thanksgiving.

I want to live with a grateful heart.

So as an exercise in gratitude I have decided to implement “Thankful Thursday” on my blog for 2010.  Each Thursday I will reflect on a couple things that stand out in the week for which I am especially thankful.  From the mundane to the extraordinary or anything in between, I want to consciously recall the blessings that fill my life.

I invite others to do the same…whether in a personal diary, on your blog, or in another venue, I bid you to join me for “Thankful Thursday” and intentionally exercise a grateful heart by writing down your reflections of gratitude each week. 

In this offering, I pray my barometer will forecast a contented life.

1. Grateful that Drake had the opportunity to preach at a church in Los Angeles on Sunday and for the gifts God has given my husband as a scholar and a teacher.

2. Especially grateful this week for my sister-in-law, Danielle, and her willingness to directly engage my difficult emotions while we sat at the park together on Sunday.

3. Grateful for Jessie’s cousin, Ella, and the role she currently plays as a surrogate “sister” for Jessie.  I loved watching them laugh together at the park!

4. After two wonderful weeks of vacation, I am particularly grateful for Drake’s willingness to go to work each day to provide for our family so that I can stay home with our Jessie-Girl.

5. Grateful to our friend Sarah J. who gave us the INCREDIBLY generous gift of Disneyland passes for our entire family this year, enabling Jessie and I to go, on Tuesday, to the Happiest Place on Earth together where she was able to enthusiastically experience the Princess Fantasy Faire for the first time.

6. Grateful that I had a three-year warranty on my laptop computer that enabled us to get it fixed free-of-charge when it completely bit the dust this week.

7. Grateful for Drake’s parents who have lovingly watched our Ladybug two different nights this week so that Drake and I have been able to get out alone together (and with friends) for some much-needed adult time.

8. Grateful for my friend and hairstylist, Deidre, who cut my hair for free today.  What an unexpected gift!!

9. Grateful for the last-minute opportunity to join my friends Kristin and Sarah B. at the People’s Choice Awards last night.  What a fun, out-of-the-ordinary experience!

Thank you, God, for all these blessings and more!

People have become accustomed to saying “Happy New Year” as an inaugural phrase to celebrate the beginning of a year, and of course this is a fitting expression, for we hope that life brings happiness in the forthcoming days…but what if it does not?

I remember reading an article at the end of 2007 written by a woman (she is now a friend) who lost her adult daughter in a car accident that same year, when we lost Judson.   She described how the adage “Happy New Year” no longer fit her life experience.  Instead she used what felt like a more fitting phrase -- “Have a Hopeful New Year!”

Fitting, indeed!  Whatever life may bring, whether joy, pain, sorrow, triumph, blessing, trials, or happiness, I want to experience genuine hope.

So, I wish for 2010 to bring much happiness, but whatever may come, may it be a year full of hope.

Have a Hopeful New Year!

As I reflect on 2009 I am incredibly grateful. 

I remember talking with some friends at the end of 2008 and mentioning how I had much to look forward to in 2009 which was a welcome gift on the heels of 2007 and 2008, wrought with suffering and sorrow.  In fact, I took the time to write out all the things I had to anticipate (which I’ve never done before) to serve as an encouragement.  And even though my heart ached throughout the year (and always will), there is something to be said about exciting, hopeful, and blessed experiences that inform the pain and even give insight into how God might choose to use our journey.

As I compiled my list of highlights there were far too many to include here, so instead, I am sharing a few of my “greatests” from 2009.  They are in no particular order. 

• Greatest Blessing…  On January 1, 2009 I signed a contract for Judson’s story to be published.  It was a very long, challenging journey to get the book to print, but it is without question the greatest blessing of the year to now hold Eyes that See in my hand.  Thank you to all who have supported this project by already purchasing a pre-release copy through Jud's website.  Judson’s Legacy has grown in ways we never imagined in 2009 and we look forward to the full-release of the book in 2010!


• Greatest Event…  July 26, 2009 was the most anticipated day of the year as our entire family had the honor of standing in support and celebration of Sarah and Dean’s life-long commitment to one another.  It was exciting to see God’s divine purposes in marriage commence with two people we love and respect so much.  Thank you, Bobars, for allowing all of us, including Judson, to be part of your special day!


• Greatest Adventure…  England!  Our first time to the eastern hemisphere was a fabulous experience as we were invited to join friends on the other side of the world to make a difference in the lives of future children.  Not to mention, Drake and I soaked up every minute in the UK, especially enjoying the sites in London and York.  It was an incredible trip and we are so thankful to Mel Moon, Nicky & Roger Howard, and the anonymous members of our church family who paid for our plane tickets.

• Greatest Opportunity…  I was honored to be given several opportunities to speak this year and publicly share Judson’s story, but it was at a church in Whittier back in February that I experienced the spirit of God especially present and moving.  I was humbled by the opportunity to articulate God’s grace and truth in my own life as he was clearly moving to touch others with that same grace and truth.  What an amazing opportunity to see God pour out his Spirit in life-changing ways!


• Greatest Insight…  It was a huge epiphany for me when I started to realize that pain is not the enemy of joy, that the fullness of earthly life actually occurs in the co-mingling of the two and that I become more whole as I learn to embrace both joy and pain, simultaneously.


• Greatest Gift…  My parents stayed on Balboa Island during the month of September this year and I am struck by what a wonderful gift it was to live in day-to-day community with them, to share life together in the regular rhythms.  Whether it was popping-in for a moment, spending the day together doing nothing, or planned outings, the nearness of their company was sweet. 

• Greatest Moment…  One day as I was standing outside our home in the summer sun, delighting in the blue-sky and gentle wind, I noticed a yellow and blue butterfly fluttering nearby.  I watched it for awhile as it danced in the sky circling the area where I stood.  I felt strangely compelled to hold out my hand as an invitation.  Lo and behold, the creature with painted-wings landed right on my finger – taking my breath away.  It was an unexpected moment that felt like a brush with the sacred.


• Greatest Encouragement…  I can think of no greater encouragement than to hear how the depths of my own sorrow have somehow yielded fruit in the life of another.  This is the amazing story of the Gospel…that out of darkness God brings light; that which is horrid can be redeemed by the Creator for good.  Thank you to all who have engaged our story and encouraged us by sharing how Jud has touched your life.


• Greatest Joy…  My heart swells with every thought of my Jessie-Girl.  To have the privilege of watching her grow is pure bliss.  Whether it be sipping tea together at Starbucks, watching her dance, listening to her sing, reading together, or simply snuggling, I cannot begin to describe the joy she brings to my life.  It was especially a gift this year to see her developing a character of compassion and sensitivity to the hurts of others.  Jessie is my greatest joy!

• Greatest Friendship…  Drake continues to be the greatest friend I could ever imagine.  He understands me.  He accepts me.  He encourages me.  He puts up with me.  He supports me.  He forgives me.  He sacrifices for me.  He feels with me.  And what stands out most this year is that he has, more than ever, given me the space to struggle with life without expectation for more from me.  Drake’s friendship offers me freedom to learn and grow, however “messy” I may be.  I love him dearly and want to grow to be that kind of friend for him too!


• Greatest Hope…  To know that this fractured existence is not the end fills my heart with true hope.  I think about heaven and living in the presence of my Savior every single day; all the beauty and glory of this life captured in eternity but unhindered by any pain, sorrow, or heartache.   Everything else pales in comparison to this hope!

God graciously upheld us in 2009 and I submit and surrender my heart for whatever He may choose to do in 2010!

Losing Judson has meant facing a lifetime of slowly letting go…letting go of hopes, dreams, expectations, and even tangible reminders of my boy.  It is now primarily a gradual surrender within the natural flow of living -- necessary and healthy, though still wrenching.  Most of the time the process is slow and occurs over time with the rhythms of life, but periodically it is abrupt and unexpected causing significant tearing of my bereaved heart.

As Jessie is getting older and her personal interests are growing and changing, we want our internal and external worlds to expand to accommodate her development.  And as grieved parents, part of that expansion for us includes letting go of more ties to Judson—ways that we have been emotionally, physically, and mentally tied to Jud through Jessie, as well as tangible bonds too.

After much thought, some discussion, and a weighing of the emotional costs, Drake and I decided it was time to re-decorate and update Jessie’s room so it more aptly reflects her personality and interests.  Mostly, it needed to be girl-ified – adding more pink, purple and other frilly things that strike our ladybug’s fancy.  In turn, this required removing Jud and Jessie’s crib that has been sitting unused in the corner for over a year, along with Judson’s vehicles  and other mementos on the wall that have not been touched since he died.  But…the upper bunk of her bed that serves as a tribute to our boy we decided to keep unaltered, dressed in a McQueen sheet and filled with precious keepsakes from Jud’s life.

So about a week ago, I got to work.  I started the process by unassembling the crib.  With each twist of the screwdriver I recalled the afternoon we had put the crib together in anticipation of Judson’s arrival and all the days of getting my boy in and out of his haven dressed with little lamb sheets; I was slowly letting go.  And I breathed deeply allowing myself to feel the sadness as I hauled each piece of the crib from the room.

Removing the crib created space for me to reposition the bunk bed on the other end of the wall.  And since Drake wasn’t home, I figured all I needed was a little elbow grease and I could push and pull the “big kid” bed across the room by myself.  With a few grunts and some brute strength, the bunks began to budge, sliding across the carpet pretty easily.   With a push here and pull there I was fairly close to getting the bed into place when I suddenly heard a loud CRUNCH that sounded like splitting wood.  I stopped immediately to assess the situation.  I touched the bed ever-so slightly and it began to sway, unstable and ready to crumble.

I called Drake immediately in a panic, hoping it was simply some loose screws that could easily be remedied, but fearing more.  He was at the Starbucks around the corner and came home immediately.  We removed the top bunk so we could safely assess the situation and quickly discovered irreparable damage.  Not only had all the bolts that secure the screws been severely stripped, the wood had dangerously splintered into two pieces at a critical joint.  The bed was unsalvageable.

I collapsed to the floor in utter anguish at the severe, abrupt, and unexpected letting go suddenly occurring.  This splintered wood was splintering my heart anew, shredding and tearing in places that were not ready to be ripped away.   No, no, no, no! I cried.  I am not ready!  It felt as though I was being forcibly shoved farther away from my son…completely unprepared for the new distance between us.  I laid on his McQueen pillow and wept bitterly.

It has been over a week and my eyes continue to pool with tears at the thought.  Like the bunk-bed, I might appear sturdy, but in reality can be easily splintered, ready to crumble.

My every breath has become integrated into a constant mixture of emotion: joy perpetually merged with the painful pangs of living with loss.  These oxymoronic emotions of joy and sorrow have fused to become the general state of my existence…rarely is one present now without the other.  Every spark of joy is coupled with the ache of my beloved’s absence from the picture, while every twinge of pain is coupled with joy and gratitude over the life that was and the legacy that remains.

I have discovered that occasions such as birthdays and Christmas seem to emphasize the bizarre blend of these seemingly divergent emotions, whereas all the richness of life and breath accentuated in times of celebration make the loss of such all the more pronounced.

I am learning to live in the mixture, allow myself to feel it all, to abide in this concoction of seemingly opposed emotions.  And in doing so, engaging the whole assortment, I am experiencing the fullness of my own life in the midst.

Family celebrating Judson's birthday at his gravesite.

My dear Jud Bud,

It is hard to believe 5 years ago today you made me a mama – the most blessed mama there ever could be.  One look into your already bright eyes and I knew, for the first time, the depths of a mother’s love.  Just moments after you entered this world, the nurses put your beautiful, just-out-of-the-womb body next to my heart – I felt your warmth, your breath, and your heart beat, amazed that you were my boy!  And then I glanced over at your daddy and saw tears of joy streaming down his face, just as they were streaming down mine.  What a glorious day December 24, 2004 proved to be! 

Turning 5 years old is quite a milestone, Judson…
It crushes me that it is a milestone you never reached.
It crushes me that it is one of many, many milestones you will never reach.

But whether on earth or in heaven, your life (and that of your sister) continues to make me one of the most blessed mamas there ever could be.  Nothing, not even death, can steal that from me.  I continue to be in awe over the precious gift given to us in you, amazed that you are my boy. 

Yet, I would give anything to look into your bright eyes today, to share with you the growing depths of my mother’s love over these five years, to have you present as we celebrate you.  Instead, I must wait.  I must wait for the day when I will again look into your big, brown, glorious eyes and the depths of my love will spill forth like water bursting from a dam.  I hope you can handle me gushing all over you!  :)

But in the waiting, there is much sorrow.  Just like the day you were born, your daddy and I still share many tears over you, but they are now colored with heartache.  Tears of sadness stream down his face, just as they do mine.  We miss you with every fiber of our beings.

Judson, your life began next to my heart, your life enveloped my heart, your life ended next to my heart…you are a part of my heart, held with every beat!

As glorious a day as December 24, 2004 proved to be, it pales in comparison to the reunion awaiting you and me.  I rejoice at the thought.

Happy 5^th Birthday, Judson!!  I celebrate you in all the fullness of joy and pain tied to my love for you.

With all my heart,
Mommy

With wonder, longing, and tears streaming down my face, I found myself looking for Judson this morning in the faces of all the children singing Christmas carols at our church.

He wasn’t there.

In January 2007 I purchased a “just because” card for Drake and wrote a long note to him as I sat on one of our local beaches, shivering in the evening mist on a cold winter night, but mesmerized by the beauty.  On the front of the card was a gorgeous snowscape with a quote that has become one of my favorites of all time…

We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand...and melting like a snowflake. --Marie Beynonray

After giving Drake the card, we put it on our kitchen window sill and a few weeks later I chose to add the quote to the signature of all my emails (mind you this was months before Judson showed any signs of disease).

It seems to have been poetic foreshadowing for our impending journey here on earth.

As I was corresponding over email with a friend from church this week, she concluded her note with these words…

Isn’t it great, in eternity, we will only sparkle and never melt… –K. H.

My heart leapt with the hope in her words and the picture of my impending journey in heaven, my true life to come.  Oh how glorious when all the melting of this broken world subsides and only beauty remains; all will sparkle brilliantly without fade!

Sometimes, with certain experiences in life it is a gift to not fully know what you are getting into until you’re actually in it.  Otherwise, you might run the other direction.

I had the opportunity to volunteer on Saturday to help with a charity event that provides clothes for impoverished children in honor of a little girl named Brittany who lost her life in 2002.  When I discovered the inspiration for the event, I didn’t hesitate to take part; I relished the opportunity to honor the memory of a young girl by assisting another little girl, afflicted by poverty, on a shopping spree throughout Walmart to purchase much-need clothes and shoes.

I joined my friends Sarah and Carla on this adventure …but I was not prepared for what followed.

Imagine my surprise when the bus load of children arrived and it was full of girls and boys (up to age 12).  Then when they called Sarah’s name to meet the child assigned to us, she came strolling back with her hand leading a young boy named David.  And, in fact, David was 4 years old, the same age Jud would be were he alive.

I paused and took a deep sigh while my mind scrambled to figure out how to engage the circumstance while a whole host of emotions had just erupted in my soul.  Lean into it, I thought to myself.

So I walked over to David, placed my hand on the small of his back, bent down and asked, “Do you like Lightning McQueen?”

“No!” he curtly replied.

His harsh reply disarmed me, and strangely felt like a knife to my heart.   “Oh!?  What do you like?”

David was quiet.  And I became quiet too.

As we proceeded to traverse the aisles of the boys section in the store, holding up various clothing items to inquire as to whether or not he was interested, it quickly became apparent that David had numerous needs that far outweighed his external need for clothing.  Things he said and did were clearly indicative of internal disturbance. 

I felt powerless and broken as I watched him do and say some very disconcerting things, while my feelings were also all tangled up with thoughts of Jud.  My mind was racing.

Meanwhile, Sarah asked David to take off his sweatshirt so he could try on a long-sleeve knit to determine his size.  As he raised his arms, lifting his camouflage fleece, I dropped my head in disbelief.  David was wearing one of Judson’s shirts – a shirt that had been prominent in Jud’s wardrobe.

What are you doing, God?  I asked myself, ready to crumble to the floor in tears.

Lean in. I heard again.

 I can’t.  I thought to myself as everything in me wanted to high-tail it out of there.

Love him.  Try to love him the way you love Jud.

I can’t.

But I tried.  I walked over to David as he was kicking and hitting some men that were trying to help him and attempted to offer some guidance.  Then I took him over to the shoe section and helped him select a new pair of sneakers.  But all the while I was struggling.  I was finding it difficult to love David.

After saying goodbye to the little guy, we were informed that his dad just died two weeks ago.  My heart sank. 

David has since been perpetually on my mind and I keep asking, What were you doing, God?

I think I hear my Heavenly Father saying…

I have as much compassion for David and other deeply broken and hard-to-love people as I do Judson, and I need you to be my hands and feet.

Oh God, please grow your compassion in me.

Thank you to everyone who posted a comment on my 500th blog.  I am always grateful whenever I discover a new comment for something I have written and it was especially fun to put so many names in a bowl for the drawing.

Drake had the privilege of drawing the names of the two recipents.  So if your name wasn't selected, you can blame him.  :)

Anna Hamp and Kristy McGuire

I appreciate the support of everyone who entered our drawing and am particularly grateful for your interest in getting a copy of Eyes that See.  Thank you for being readers of my blog!

Much of the day my eyes have been flooded with tears.  Some days are just that way; whether there are definite triggers or nothing specific at all, the emotion cannot be contained.  And today was one of those days.  All the sorrow of living without my boy was forefront in each moment, dwarfing every other thought or feeling.

It’s days like this I’m amazed I ever function at all.

Thank goodness, over time these days have been lessening in frequency.

Jessie has just started getting used to having covers on her when she sleeps, so as I was tucking her into bed tonight, making sure she was “snug as a bug in a rug,” I told her some stories of when my mama used to put me to bed when I was a little girl.   

I described how my mom would  recite verses to me and then tuck the covers really tightly around me so I could barely move, then as she was leaving the room she would say, “Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” before turning off the lights and closing the door.  But once I was alone, I would squirm around under the covers to loosen them.  I loved the security of having the covers snugly around me, but could never sleep that way.  Actually, in general, I loved the security of my childhood, the stability of my parents’ care.

As I kissed Jess goodnight this evening, turned off her light, and shut the door, I had a deep longing to be that child again, that innocent little girl who relished life with few cares or concerns.  How did I become the mama?  When did I grow up?  I thought to myself.  It feels like just yesterday that I was Jessie’s age, blowing kisses to my folks and coyly flashing the “I love you” sign to my dad with few burdens in my little world. 

Somewhere along the way, fears, frustrations, and pains started creeping in; the challenges of life began to tear at the walls of my perceived stability, eroding my security.  My parents, as wonderful as they are, could not ultimately provide the security for which I long. Neither can my hubby.  No human being can.

But I believe God wants to meet my deepest longings for security.  He wants me to be like a child in His protective care.  He wants me to trust Him and has vowed never to leave or forsake me.  God has declared that if He is my helper, I have nothing to fear (Hebrews 13:5-6).

So tonight…

And when he tucks me in, I don’t want to find myself squirming around to loosen the covers.

Playing with Jessie up in her room the other night, she stumbled upon a large, clear, unfamiliar box in her closet.  Curious, she asked if she could open in it to see what was inside.  Though I knew it would stir all sorts of emotions within me, I proceeded to let her rummage through the contents.  She found some of my old stuffed animals from childhood, a few items of particular value to Drake, some of her own baby clothes, and then multiple garments that had been worn by her brother.

She was very inquisitive about each item, especially intrigued by those that belonged to Judson.  She asked about each piece of his clothing, when he wore them, and then inquired as to whether or not they would fit her.  All of Jud’s clothes were far too small for my rapidly growing peanut but she continued rifling through with great interest.  She suddenly erupted with glee upon discovering a pair of Lightning McQueen pajama bottoms.

“Oh, can I please wear these, mommy!”

Tears began to pool in my eyes.  “Uh, I’m not sure they’ll fit you Jessie,” I responded with great hesitancy as I checked the size on the tag, remembering that these pajamas were worn by Jud during his last days.

“They’re so cool.  I really want to wear them,” she interjected, unaware of the intense feelings that were stirring inside me.

The tag said XS (3-4)…just her size.

I tried to distract her by pointing out the remaining contents of the box then subtly stuffed the pajamas under the pile of already-discovered items hoping she would quickly forget about Jud’s special flannel McQueen PJs.  Meanwhile, I took deep breaths, trying to keep it together as Jessie finished going through every article of clothing, one-by-one, gently placing them outside the box.

Upon emptying the clear plastic container, she turned around with a face of determination, clearly seeking something specific.  “Where are those McQueen…” she began to ask, but was interrupted by her own discovery while frantically fumbling through the pile. 

“Here they are!” she enthusiastically stated.  “Can I please wear them to bed?”

I hemmed and hawed trying to sort through all that was stirring in my soul at her request, when suddenly a picture of my joyous Jud passed through my thoughts, as if to indicate he would delight in seeing his sister wearing his McQueen PJs.  “That would be quite a treat, wouldn’t it sweetie,” I expressed, as I continued to process the significance.  “I think Jud would very much want to share his pajamas with you,” I conceded as tears fell from my eyes.

Jumping up and down, Jessie held the pajamas tightly to her chest expressing great enthusiasm.

Later that evening when we got her dressed for bed and she finally donned the flannel McQueen pants, she was filled with delight.  And as she rolled around in the khaki bean bag chair she declared, “I would really like to wear these when I go to heaven and see Jud.  He would really like that!”

In that moment, I realized the solidarity and love for Jud she was communicating by wearing his clothes.

I hope I never allow the weight of my own grieving heart to thwart my sweet Jessie’s expressions of care for her brother.

Dear Reader…

Amazingly, this is my 500^th post since Judson’s death…and the timing is especially apropos considering today, December 1^st, is the official release date for his book Eyes that See: Judson’s Story of Hope in Suffering (okay, you figured me out, I waited to post my 500th until today).  Eyes that See is now available exclusively on this site until April 6, 2010, at which time it will be available for purchase in bookstores everywhere.

Some of you may have been readers of my blog prior to Judson’s death and others of you may have just discovered No Artificial Colors or Flavors within the last month, but either way, I am incredibly grateful that you have been willing to walk this Journey Toward Wholeness with me.

Over the last two years I have had people ask me whether my blog is simply about my life as a grieving mother.  And although my grief has obviously been the most prominent aspect of my writing since losing Jud, my intent is much broader.  Therefore, I thought my 500^th post might be a great occasion to bring definition to the purpose of my writing.

With each blog I long to offer a vulnerable and candid glimpse into a personal journey grappling with the challenges of faith and life in a broken, painful world.  It is my desire to be real and authentic about my thoughts and feelings as I struggle to honor and trust God in my everyday experiences of life.  For this reason, much of what compels me to write are the difficult issues that stir my soul, the jagged edges, the pangs and pains of living, which are influenced by many things including being forever shaped by the death of my Judson.  Meanwhile, whether directly or indirectly, I wish for my writing to reflect the One True Hope I have found as I deal with the tensions in my soul and my observations in this world.

In many ways, these are my personal journals, made public…which has involved risk.  But it has been an intentional and calculated risk and I have felt compelled to write.  Though there may be times my thoughts are misinterpreted, misconstrued, or even criticized (which is par for the course), I have also been given a great and unexpected gift through the process – I have received tremendous love, support, encouragement, and blessing from people.  So today, I want to take the opportunity to speak directly to you, my reader, and thank you for electronically walking through this journey of life with me.

So in appreciation for your support and in honor of Judson and the release of his book, I would like to give away two copies of Eyes that See.  Simply post your name in the comments section of my blog and next Monday, Dec. 7^th, I will randomly draw the name of two people whom I will send a free copy.  I will post the names of those recipients next Tuesday.

Cannot thank you enough,
Christina

P.S.  My 500^th post seemed a fitting time to change the color of my blog.  What do you think?

P.P.S.  Please take a moment to look around storyofjudson.com as it has been newly upgraded and much new content has been added, including information about our ministry Judson’s Legacy.