Sunday, December 15, 2019

Callie's 5th Birthday

It's so hard to believe that Callie would be 5 years old.  Missing a 5 year old girl in our home is something I think of every single day.  Sometimes it's just a fleeting thought, and others is a deep pain that takes my breath away like it happened yesterday.  I remember walking into grief share just a month after Callie died desperate to learn more about grief and be with others who felt such deep pain like I did.  As we shared our stories, the Lord gave us another family there who had lost their young daughter, except it had happened 2 years prior.  When they shared,  I naively was surprised that they were in grief share after 2 years had passed.  Though I knew this pain I would carry the rest of my life, I foolishly thought in 2 years things would be so much better.  I wondered why would they need grief share after 2 years?  I really can't believe I thought that now.  

Looking back, now 3.5 year in, I would say the short term was easier than I expected it to be, and the long term is harder than I expected.  That first year was SO hard and I've never cried so much in my life, but God's Grace was so near and I was surrounded by loving, caring and thoughtful people.  Now after 3.5 years, the tears are not as often, but the deep pain and the heartache of missing her is still so strong and always will be.  It's starting to really settle in that there is not a day to come that I won't be a little sad.  Even joyful times and celebrations are tinged with a little sadness.  I think the challenge is not to stop the grief, but to choose joy in the midst.  Does time really heal all things?  I think not.  It dims things, becoming more like a low hum in the background of life.  It pushes the worst bits to the back for a season, but there are some things I'm certain time on this earth can't heal.  


Here is the truth:  I'm sad and I think that's okay.   It's ok that I'm terribly sad and completely heartbroken that I won't be with my daughter to celebrate her 5th birthday.  That I miss out on throwing her any girly birthday party.  It's okay to feel sad that my 2 younger boys will never know their sister.  It's ok that I feel sad that I'm reminded daily of the 4.5 age gap in Cooper and Nolan. I feel sad when people call me a boy mom when they don't know.  I'm sad that I do not get to raise my daughter and watch her grow up.  But, being sad is not the same thing as despair.  There is one critical difference: Hope.  I have hope in the Lord and I trust He is good even when the worst has happened.  Because I know a day is coming when "everything sad will come untrue." It's not about being rid of it, it's about living a full life of joy no matter our circumstances in the little time we have here on this earth.  


I want to trust that God will be found in the hidden, unseen places and the fruit would be so sweet--especially when costly. 


To my sweet Callie girl....Happy 5th Birthday!  It is a true joy being your mom.  I love you dearly and so wish I could have 1 more day with you. I wish I could get a peek at what you would look like today.  I pray always that many people will know Jesus more through your life and death.  You have made such an impact with just 18 months here on earth.  I so wish I could throw you a cute girly birthday party with your friends.  We miss you so much but I know you are having the best birthday ever in heaven.  I made a promise to you the week after you went to heaven that I would not waste this pain that I feel. That your death is not meaningless.  I know I have failed many times, but I do hope that I have made you proud.  This has been so costly, I don't want it to be wasted.  I love you baby girl, Happy Birthday!










Sunday, September 23, 2018

A Few Thoughts

It's been awhile since I've posted as I have a  few posts that are half written.  Sometimes it's hard to write all my thoughts out.  I wonder if people will think I'm just stuck in my grief?  Or that I'm just fishing for sympathy?  Or that I'm STILL writing about my daughter's death?  It's hard to navigate but here I go with some thoughts over the past few months.

The first big milestone was Callie's 2 year heaven day.  I still sometimes can't believe that we have been living without her for 2 years. I have been reflecting a lot about the the past 2 years and how our lives have changed so much.  We label everything in our lives as before Callie died or after she died.  I sometimes can't believe I thought life was hard before Callie died.  Of course there were hard things being parents of 2 under 3 but nothing like the aching sadness we live with daily.  The anger that can spark of not having answers.  The hurt of friends who seemed to disappear or never mentioned our loss.  The deep ache of seeing my friends with their daughters when I don't have mine.  The triggers of driving in the car and having flashbacks of that night.  The confusion of why did this happen to us?  The frustration of wondering if really any good is coming from this like I once thought.  Even though we live these feelings sometimes weekly, sometimes daily, I know one thing now that 2 years have passed....it does get easier in some ways.

I think the hardest part for me after hitting the 2 year mark is the sadness I feel that it will become easier.  That sounds absolutely crazy, as of course I'm glad I don't feel that excruciating shocking pain I felt the 1st year.  There is something about time moving on that is sad to me.  The more we move on with our lives, the less people we are around who knew her.  The more time has gone by, the less people talk about her.  Now that it is somewhat easier than before, I cry less about her.  As I know that's not something I should feel guilty about, it makes me sad.  People who have lost a child, say that their biggest fear is their child will be forgotten.  And now I see myself facing this fear.  And though I know close family and friends would never forget her, as a mom I do feel bad for moving on with our lives.  It's just a natural feeling that life does move on as time goes on.

Another big milestone is that Nolan turned 18 months old.  Usually turning 18 months is a fun milestone, but for us it brings so much sadness.  Though I know Callie  would now be 3.5 years old, it's hard not to picture her as 18 months old. I remember looking at my calendar so long ago to see when Nolan would be 18 months.  It comes with dread, guilt, fear, and grief.  I vividly remember Callie at 18 months old.  I remember what she was like and her demeanor.  It's so hard to not compare Nolan and Callie and how different they are.  It's hard not to play the 'what if' game in my head.  I really wish we could just skip this month and Nolan would be 19 months old.  It's hard to even say that he's 18 months old when people ask me how old he is.  It's honestly a very strange feeling that I believe I'll be feeling all month reflecting on Callie's last weeks with us.

Lastly, we found out we are expecting another baby boy.  I am truly thankful for the gift of a new baby and I have no doubt that we will love and adore this baby boy.  I know this sweet boy will be the perfect addition to my family, and exactly what our family needs, but with adding another boy, it has caused me to grieve Callie much more than I was before.  It has nothing to do with having another boy, it's just something that is so hard to explain that I didn't want to share because I'm afraid of it being misunderstood.  All that to say, the past few months have set me back pretty badly in my grief journey though these circumstances.

Grief really is an up and down path that is unpredictable.  I have felt more distant and even hurt by the Lord than I did even during that first year.  It's been a hard few months, and I know the Lord is doing something, I truly believe it even when I don't feel it.  It's just been a hard grief journey.  Thankfully going to a grief counselor regularly has been helpful for me to process through this grief that is so hard to explain.  I know God is good, I know he has not forgotten me, I know that He is doing something,  I know this is not our home.






Friday, February 2, 2018

Faith Proven Genuine

I've heard time and time again people tell me that they couldn't go through the loss of a child. That they aren't strong enough.  That it's their worst nightmare and that they wouldn't be able to live on.  Besides the fact that these comments aren't helpful at all, I'm left with only 1 response.  I'm only "strong" because the Lord has given me strength to endure.  He has given us grace upon grace to live through something a lot of people will never experience.  There is no grace for your imagination.  When you imagine losing a child, you don't have  God's grace to walk you through it until it actually happens.  But being in the midst of it, I can say He has given us so much grace to endure the impossible.  I am not some chosen super strong spiritual person and that's why I'm able to go on.  I'm an everyday mom who loved her daughter immensely and is relying on the Lord every single day.  Some days are much better than others, but God has provided for our every need.

One of the biggest encouragements that I have seen from my own life over the past year is the testing and proving of my faith as genuine.  Only God-given faith could sustain me through such grief and heartache, so I know it's the real thing. And I can also see how efficient His grace is-He has been able to sustain us through incredible pain and loss.  He has given us hope in the midst of great discouragement.  The fire still burns, but it does not consume.  The pain is so real, and the hurt of not seeing my baby girl everyday is deep, but I am still able to say It is Well.  And that is truly only by the Grace of God. By God's Grace, my own path is paved with promises of a glorious future beyond what I can see.  Even more, my Savior is with me, guiding me and offering eternal treasures along the way.

Sometimes I think it can sound arrogant to say that my faith has been strong to endure such a deep loss and still trust in God. But at the same time, I know that is one of the purposes of Callie's death.  It's to shout it out and for people to know that God is still good even through the deepest pain.  He is trustworthy when I'm at my lowest point.  If you know me, you know I am very real of the pain and heartache of losing Callie and how much I miss her.  I will not sugarcoat how awful it is for your child to die out of no where.  I'm not going to brush it off as this is just God's will and I'll be okay. Because it really SUCKS that I don't get to see Callie grow up.  And I use that term because I don't even know how else to describe it.  It's awful to watch everyone else around me raise their daughters while I'm missing mine terribly.  But in the midst of it all, I know God is still good.  I know he has deep purpose for our suffering.  I hope to continue to be real of the pain and heartache I feel, but to also grieve with such hope.  How we suffer does matter and I want to share it with others.  Our faith is on display for others to see.  I ask myself, what unique opportunities of gospel witness is he entrusting me with in the midst of the hurt and pain?  When the Bible says to count it all joy when we face trials, part of the joy we have is finding out our faith works.  There is joy in discovering our faith is genuine and it's the real deal.

When I am tempted to question God's goodness for allowing such pain in our lives, I have to remind myself that suffering is part of living in a fallen world, and as believers, while we are not spared from it, we are being purified and sanctified through it.  Although we may never understand God's reasons for allowing pain to afflict us, we can be certain that, in Christ, our suffering is not pointless but is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory.

1 Peter 1:6-7
In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith--more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire--may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.


Sunday, December 17, 2017

Happy 3rd Birthday Callie

My Dearest Callie,

Happy 3rd Birthday baby girl!  What a celebration you are having right now in heaven.  I picture you dancing and twirling at the feet of Jesus.  What a sweet picture that is.  Today we will celebrate you.  We celebrate the life God wonderfully created.  We celebrate the 18 amazing months we had you in this world.  We celebrate the wonderful opportunity it was to be your mom, dad, and brother.  We celebrate that you are with Jesus and we celebrate that as believers, we will see you again.  Your life is worth celebrating.  Your life had such purpose.  Your life will always have purpose.  I pray that your short life continues to have an eternal impact around those around us.  Your life and death is meaningful and we will continue to celebrate you.




Though we have such faith in our Sovereign God and his perfect plan, our heart ache for our loss of you.  And it's okay that our hearts ache.  Grieving doesn't mean we aren't trusting the Lord. We grieve because of our deep love for you.  We grieve but with hope knowing and trusting the Lord.  And so today we will celebrate your life, but we will also grieve our loss.  I am so sad you are not here with us to celebrate your 3rd birthday.  I'm sad I can't throw a real party for you and your little friends.  I am sad that I don't know what type of party you would have wanted to have.  I don't know what your favorite things are anymore. I don't know your favorite show or your favorite toy.  I don't know what your voice would sound like now. What would your personality be like now?  I'm sure you would still be independent and easy going, but I wonder what other personality traits have changed? And maybe worst of all, I don't know what you would look like now.  Your hair was so pretty, I wonder how long it wold be now?  You had the chubbiest cheeks that were just thinning out a little and I wonder what those cheeks would look like now.  I'm guessing your beautiful eyes would still be the prettiest hazel color.  I know I"m your Mama, but you were absolutely beautiful and my heart aches not being able to watch you grow up.





I'm thankful to be your Momma.  You brought SO much joy to our family.  You and Cooper had the best brother/sister relationship I have ever seen.  We miss you everyday.  I wish you were with us on every family event we do.  There is a part of us missing and always will be.  I wish we didn't have to spend Christmas without you.  I wish we could have seen you be a big sister.  You would have adored baby Nolan and would have been so cute to see as a big sister.





 On my worst day, life really doesn't seem fair sometimes.  Everyone else around me gets to watch their daughters grow up and have all their kids with them, while I don't.  But on my best day, I know and believe that God is doing something beyond what we could ever imagine with your life and death.  He is good and He has been so near to us.  I have to trust the Lord than most people do.  Trust in something I can't see now nor will see in my lifetime.  Trust Him with something so tender and precious to me.  Trust Him that He is doing something, that He is working, He is moving, and there is great purpose in not having you with us.  Trust that JOY is coming, we will be reunited again!  This life is so short compared to eternity and the joy that awaits us.  I wish you were here with us to celebrate your 3rd birthday, but today I say, "You give and You take away, blessed be your name." Thy will be done...




Happy 3rd birthday to my beautiful angel Callie Grace.  There is no other word that makes me smile more than to hear your name.  We celebrate you today and your life.  We love you, we miss you, and you are not forgotten.  I hope we make you proud.

With Love,
Your Momma







Tuesday, September 12, 2017

What is God Teaching You?

I read an article on The Gospel Coalition a month ago that really ministered to me. The article was titled, "When Christian Comfort Hurts More than it Helps." I thought it was going to be another article about what not to say to people who are grieving or something similar to that. But it was different and it really hit home for me.

The article was written by a woman who lost her husband. While one of her friends was over at her house and saw her cry, she asked, "What is God teaching you through all this?" Her response: "I shook my head, what was the right answer? Was she looking for something specific? Some glaring flaw I couldn't see until now? Would any object lesson soothe my ache? The Lord promises to draw near to the brokenhearted and resume those crushed in sprit (Ps 34:18). I needed compassion not a spiritual assessment."

I realized that no on has flat out asked me this, but many people have told me how much I will grow and learn through my daughter's loss. I know it's true, I will know the Lord in a deeper way now. But because of the immense pain of Callie's loss and the dire need to honor her life, I am constantly putting pressure on myself to figure out what God is teaching me. If I don't know, I feel more guilt. After a year, shouldn't I know exactly what God is teaching me and what he is doing through this tragedy? Shouldn't I not be as sad anymore? Shouldn't I be a more joyful person as that is what will honor God? Shouldn't church be a joy and not a burden to attend now? Shouldn't I be "over" my fear of meeting new people? Why is it still hard after a year? These thoughts cross my mind all the time, and I'm thankful for the freedom this post says.  Something as simple as God has been so kind to us and faithful during this year is enough.

I feel freedom now to not have this deep spiritual answer to the question I ask myself all the time. What is God doing through this? I don't know what He's doing. This quote from the article is so good: "But is God shouting some spiritual insight or is he a gentle Father calling us to himself? Russ Ramsey writes:

"Because the Lord often withholds explanations for our pain, we must not look at suffering as though it is some diving gimmick designed to teach us some important life lesson. That would make too little of the reality. God's people do not walk through suffering toward the moral of the story. Rather, we walk toward the eternal presence of the Maker and Lover of our souls."

Often in the crucible of pain come no answers. The only answer I have sometimes is that God’s sufficient power is made perfect in our weakness (2 Cor. 12:9). So the pressure is off. There is not a single answer to the question of what the Lord is doing through Callie's death. Some days in the midst of my pain all I can say is that I trust the Lord through this. That His Grace is sufficient. I trust He is doing something that I don't see. I trust that He is teaching me and growing me when I can't see it.  Because honestly I don't see it right now. When I feel far from the Lord, I can trust that He is near.



Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Happy Heaven Day Callie Grace

My Dearest Callie,

Happy Heaven Day!  Today marks one year of being with Jesus.  One year of no pain, no sickness, no sadness or fear.  One year of JOY all day, every day.  What an incredible thought!  A year ago was the absolute worst day of our lives.  Our lives were turned upside down, one minute you were with us and the next you were with Jesus.  It's still sometimes hard to wrap my mind around that.  We really miss you so much.  I didn't realize how much joy you brought into our family until after you were gone.  Sometimes I feel bad or sad for not being able to protect you like a mother is supposed to protect their child, but then I have to remind myself of the sovereignty of God and his perfect plan.  You were supposed to be with Jesus after only 18 months here on earth.  I don't know why, but July 4, 2016 was not just a random day, but a date that God knew before you were even born.  Your days were numbered and that brings me comfort.

I think about you all the time.  I'm always picturing what you would be doing and what you would be like.  The more time that passes away, the harder it is to picture you at what would be your current age.   I'm sad that I don't have the opportunity to watch you grow up.  To go to Kindergarten, to make friends, graduate from high school or get married.  I don't get to take you to see a girl movie or get pedicures or dress shopping.  I don't get to see how your little personality develops over the next few years.  I know God will restore the years that we have lost together.  We long for heaven now more than ever.  We are more aware that this is not our home.  Death does not have the final word. Maybe we will get the chance to raise you in heaven.  There is so much we don't know about heaven,  one thing we do know, it will be better than we ever thought or imagined and we will be with you again!

Your 18 months of life has touched many people.  You had such great purpose, even if I can't see it.  Today I think of heaven more than any other day of the year.  Today I grieve greatly for our loss, but rejoice in your gain.  Today I'm reminded of God's loving kindness and faithfulness in the midst of deep despair.  You are free baby girl.  You are free...

Love always and forever,
Your Mommy

Friday, June 16, 2017

Grieving While Everyone Celebrates

Grief is such a confusing and tricky thing.  What makes grief even more tricky is that is looks completely different for each person.  Justin and I grieve very differently.  I like to talk about Callie, post about her, and share while he processes things internally and doesn't like to talk about it as much.  Neither are wrong or bad but both need a balance.

One specific thing that makes our grief feel differently than most people's is that Callie died on a holiday.  A very specific holiday that falls on a specific day each year (unlike Thanksgiving and Easter that changes dates).  And to be honest, it really makes me mad that it had to happen on a holiday.  A holiday that you can't escape.  A holiday where everyone around you celebrates.  A holiday where you can hear parades and fireworks to be reminded that people are celebrating and having fun while we are grieving.

I remember after Callie died, it was hard to understand why not everyone's life didn't stop like ours did.  When I received that first text that had nothing to do with Callie.  When I saw the first post on a group page I was in that had nothing to do with Callie.  It really hurt.  You mean, other people aren't thinking about this 24/7? And even though that sounds completely crazy because of course we are the ones most affected by this. Of course not everyone is feeling like we do.  We had to learn fast that after a couple of weeks, the reality is everyone HAS to move on.  Everyone goes back to their normal ways of life while ours does not.

As so here we are just a few weeks away from the anniversary of Callie's death.  We have so many flashbacks of that day.  For me, flashbacks of getting the first phone call, flashbacks of the doctor telling us she wasn't going to make it, flashbacks of seeing Callie there in the hospital, praying out loud for God to save her, flashbacks of them trying to resuscitate her lifeless body, flashbacks of the doctor officially pronouncing her death, flashbacks of watching my husband holding her body sobbing uncontrollably, flashbacks of the staff workers placing their hands on me, and flashbacks of holding her in my arms, not wanting to let her go.

Walking into a store and seeing 4th of July decorations makes me cringe and feel sick inside.  Seeing anything that has to do with the 4th of July is simply painful.  I want to shout out, "do you not understand how horrible this day is?"  But of course they don't, they don't even know me or our story.  I wish we could just skip this day all together, but we can't escape it.  I know there is such purpose for the exact day that she died, even if I don't understand it.  Before she was even born, the Lord knew the day of her death.  This is not meaningless.  The very last picture I took of her with her 4th of July outfit has meaning.  I don't know it now, but I trust the Lord with this.

As I had mentioned before we are in the process of building a house.  Justin was ready to move right after Callie died, but I was more hesitant.  We finally found a floor plan we loved in a great location and decided to build a house.  We wanted it to be completed before Nolan was born but it wasn't going to happen.  Now in the Lord's sovereignty, our new house will be finished the week before Callie's Heaven day.  We will be moving that 4th of July weekend so we will be very busy and will be in our new house on the 4th.  I am SO thankful we will be out of our house as the thought of being here on that day was too difficult.  God's timing is always so perfect and I'm thankful for extra time being amongst our neighbors who knew and cared for Callie.  It really seems like the perfect time for us to move.

Maybe one day we will be able to do all the 4th of July things that we used to do.  Just as I mentioned in a previous post, life is a little less sweet now.  4th of July, Thanksgiving, Christmas, family vacations, etc are just less sweet without our Callie.  We miss her so so much, and sometimes the pain is so deep it feels like it happened yesterday.  It's really hard to believe it's been a year.  Just a few days ago Cooper was crying so hard and when I asked what was wrong he said he missed Callie and he missed playing with her.  So heartbreaking!  It hits us all at different moments.  But I do know this, Callie is free.  Just as everyone in the country is celebrating the freedom we have in America, we will celebrate Callie's heaven day, the freedom she has in Christ.  As a friend reminded me today, when we hear fireworks going off, we will think of the celebration Callie is experiencing everyday being with Jesus, dancing at his feet.  Callie experienced true freedom in Christ that day.  Instead of the fireworks bringing so much grief, I hope that it will be a reminder of Callie's freedom and the hope we have in Christ.  See you soon baby girl!

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free...."  Galatians 5:1