Aubrey, 1 month old

I think the first month as a new parent ends up looking different for everyone.  And more than not it looks different than that new parent could have imagined. Lets just say that there was (and maybe still is) a little PTSD from Aubrey's Birth experience.  I was not mentally prepared for the recovery portion of birth.  Not only did I have the regular cesarean incision to heal from but mine was extra long as they had to open me up more.  I also labored naturally for almost the whole thing, so think day two after a really hard workout. I felt like I was hit by a bus and I was afraid my incision would bust open at anytime.  The hardest thing about the recovery was feeling inadequate to take care of Aubrey because I was also having to take care of myself and heal.

One of the best things that we did was having it just be Brian, Aubrey, and I the first week.  I know most like to have all the people at the hospital but I knew that it would be good to have time with just the three of us. I just didn't know how valuable it would be with breastfeeding and my very slow recovery the first week. The first week of Aubrey's life had a nice slow pace to it snuggled on the couch.

A few things that I want to remember about the first month:

1. I slept with my glasses on for two weeks straight. 

Aubrey's bed was right next to our bed and every time that she moved or made a noise I would wake up and look over at her.  Sleeping with my glasses on allowed me to just open my eyes and see her and close them and go right back to sleep.

2. Night #4 Aubrey ate from 11pm-7am. At about 1am I gave in and accepted that she wasn't going to sleep anytime soon and this is just what we would be doing all night.  So Brian helped Aubrey and I get set up in the recliner (the only place that I felt safe enough to doze off) and we settled in for a long night.

3. Aubrey peed on Brian more times than I can count and usually at night when he went to change her.  Brian would get up and change Aubrey before bringing her to me to feed.  They say you have to watch out for baby boys peeing but trust me little girls can pee across the room. 

4. PP Anxiety and hormones are no joke. The first 2-3 weeks no matter if everything was fine I would sit holding Aubrey looking for things to worry about.

5.  I am sure it was my hormones normalizing a bit but having my dad and step-mom and then my older sister come was invaluable. It was great for them to help with the transition as Brian went back to work. It also just helped with making things feel like they would be ok.  Again hormones. 

6. At one month old Aubrey was following our voices and smiling.

(left) 4 weeks, (right) 1 week

10.5lbs

First morning at home - someone did not like to be swaddled

Follow up appt 3 days old

Pap and Grandma came to visit for a week when she was 12 days old

Aunt Ashlyn came to visit when Aubrey was 3weeks old

One of my all time favorite pictures.  So snugly

Easter: First Church Service

1 week old bath and 3 weeks old

First bath!

Aubrey's Birth Story, Part 2

Be sure to check out Aubrey's Birth Story, Part 1 if you haven't yet!

From 7-9am I continued to labor.  Contractions now even closer and more intense.  I began to squat hoping to allow gravity to help Aubrey drop lower. They also had me try the peanut ball to open up my pelvis more.  I was not a fan of it.  I needed to move through each contraction.  Around 9am as they were having me roll from one side to the other I felt my water break.  I remember being super concerned and not 100% sure what was happening. "Um guys, some thing is happening.(pause) I think my water is breaking. (pause) Yes, definitely my water."

The Dr came back and checked me.  This is where things began to change.  I was actually just at an 8 and my bag of waters had been bulging before making it seem like I was further along than I had been.  I continued to labor for the next couple hours. I started to get the feeling of bearing down and needing to push. The contractions were now 2 minutes long and just about 30 seconds apart.  No real breaks.

When they went to check me again, Aubrey was not presenting correctly (eye/eyebrow coming first) and my left side of my cervix was not dilating and it was inflamed.   They placed internal monitors to watch Aubrey closer (her heart rate was not stable) and to check the strength of my contractions to be sure they would be able to push Aubrey out when the time came. At this point we chose to do IV meds to try and give my cervix a break and hopefully it would continue to dilate. I remember resting for the 30seconds or so between contractions. I was continuing to not progress as needed and my body was telling me to bear down so we needed to do an epidural to give more relief.  They had already given me meds to stop/slow down contractions but those had worn off. During some point of talking with the doctor and discussing how we would have to proceed she walked away and I said, "is she mad at me", as I started to cry.  She wasn't but it is funny that I was concerned with that during everything that was going on. The 30minutes of waiting for the epidural was the worst. I remember really liking the anesthesiologist, he was very nice.  One nurse had to hold my arms to steady my body that was shaking uncontrollably, as I mustered up the strength to sit still through it.  They all praised me at how well I had done not moving during contractions that were not letting up.   My response was, "Sit still or be paralyzed? That is an easy choice." Yet they still said some people don't or are unable to.

After a couple hours of fading in and our of light sleep, only waking to ask how Aubrey's heart rate was, it was determined that we had to do a c-section.  My cervix failed to progress, Aubrey was stuck in the birth canal, and her heart rate was concerning them more and more. When the Dr (whom had tried everything I asked and wanted so much to give me a natural birth because I had worked so hard) said I want to be sure to give you a healthy baby girl and a c-section was the only way to be sure of that, I knew that we needed to go ahead and do the c-section.  Brian would be in there with me until Aubrey was born and then he would go with her and Lauren would sit with me as they closed.

They wheeled me over to the surgery room and I began to cry.  The emotions/feeling of being scared of having to have a major surgery when I had never even been admitted to the hospital before this was a lot. I had done everything right throughout the pregnancy to prepare myself but in the end I needed surgery.  And of course I was apologizing for crying because I didn't mean to cry it was just a release of adrenaline and anxiety.  I was excited that I would get to meet Aubrey soon.

Since I usually don't take medicine much when I do they affect me or are stronger. So when they did IV pain meds and the epidural we didn't do the full dosage.   I could still feel my legs and the bearing down/pressure of the contractions as I rested. I had wanted to be able to feel when I pushed Aubrey out so they had to give me more meds to numb me for the surgery. Unfortunately the nice man that gave me the epidural was gone and this other lady had to help with numbing me.  I had to argue with her and convince her that yes indeed I was not yet numb and I could feel pain where they would be cutting.  Finally the dr intervened and used a little scalpel to test and sure enough I could still feel it.  They gave me lidocaine to numb the area quicker as they were needing to get Aubrey out soon. I am not sure what they gave me but I know that I felt the beginning of the surgery and I remember seeing Aubrey for the first time but it felt like a dream.  I don't remember Brian coming in nor did I ever hear him.  I remember Lauren being in there so I knew that Aubrey had to have been born and Brian was with her.

It took 45mins for Brian to be allowed in the room since it took so long for me to be numb. Then Aubrey came out not breathing right away and I started bleeding.  Unfortunately Brian had to experience the panic of his daughter not yet breathing and hearing the doctors talking about the bleeding that begun.  Once Aubrey was breathing and doing well they brought her over to me for skin to skin. Unfortunately, I just remember briefly seeing her but it still feels like a distant memory or dream. I apparently said, " I have waited for you for so long.  I love you Aubrey." but I do not remember it.   Brian left with Aubrey, as per our agreement before ever getting to the hospital.  Brian had one job once Aubrey was born, no matter what happened to me, he would be with her if I couldn't.

Because of Aubrey's positioning when they pulled her out my uterine wall tore. Begin two hour surgery with two doctors trying to find and stop the bleeding.  During this time Lauren was with me and I would go in between being awake and asleep.  When awake I would begin asking Lauren the same serious of questions over and over again. "Aubrey is here?"and "Is she okay?". Then me rambling about how I think I got to see her but couldn't remember Brian and that everything feels like a dream. It was the biggest blessing to have Lauren there.  They would have just knocked me out or left me there and not have anyone to answer my questions.   Thankfully they were able to stop the bleeding but I was still closely monitored for the next 12hours as they anticipated I might need a blood transfusion at any moment. And thankfully I was healthy and came in with lots of iron in my system (for a pregnant lady) that my body was able to bounce back after the blood lose.

It took me a while to come out of the medicine and be coherent.  I don't even remember Aubrey's first latch but I was "awake" and responsive for it. That first night was a blur and the weeks of recovery just looked different than I imagined, both emotionally and physically.  It was a lot to recover from natural birth (minus the pushing) and the c-section. BUT we are so very thankful for our healthy (but bruised) little nugget.

Aubrey was born at 4:51pm on March 16, 2017 8lbs 3oz and 20in long.

Day 2

Aubrey's going home picture

Aubrey's Birth Story, Part 1

I have really wanted to take time to blog about Aubrey's birth for a number of reasons:

1. So that I can remember it.
2. So I can process, reflect, and own it
3. And maybe heal a little bit

Oh the anticipation! When I go to reflect on Aubrey's birth, usually in the middle of night during a feeding or while I am bouncing her trying to get my tired girl to sleep, I feel excitement. We had been waiting and waiting and had made it to 40 weeks.

That was the hardest part for me not knowing the day or time that she would make her arrival. I was supposed to work through Thursday March 16th unless Aubrey made her arrival sooner.  Our due date was Tuesday March 14th and I thought I would be able to make it two more days.  However as the last week of work crept up, my belly continued to grow, and my ankles began to swell. My due date became my last day. Close enough.

I spent Wednesday March 15th at home sleeping in and relaxing instead of being at work.  I walked to the store in town to get something to bring to the Wednesday potluck at FUMC Hico.  I remember that it was HOT and I stopped to chat with some folks along the way.  Once at the potluck and sitting eating dinner about 6pm I had to pull up my contraction app and start tracking contractions.  They were not painful but they were continuing to come and were slowly getting closer.  I motioned to my phone in my lap and Brian immediately got excited! I headed home a little giddy after dinner but didn't really think that I was in labor or that the contractions would continue as they had started other times but soon faded.  Brian came home a little after me.  We spent the next few hours continuing to monitor my contractions.  I started thinking labor was starting because my system had started clearing out all day, contractions were continuing 4-7mins apart, and I was losing my mucus plug.  We would have a random long period of time between contraction about once an hour that would make me second guess myself.  We called our Doula, Lauren, around 7pm to let her know that labor may be starting and she told us to keep her updated. Look for more intense not necessarily how frequent as mine were already pretty close together. Over the next two hours contractions held strong and steady anywhere between 5-8mins but began intensifying around 8:30pm.  They were now leaving me uncomfortable as I laid on the couch trying to rest.  We called Lauren to update her around 9:45pm that this was indeed labor and it was slowly intensifying.  We would plan to call her when we were ready to leave for the hospital and have her join us after we got settled or earlier if needed.  Brian and I decided to go and try and rest about 11:00pm. We only lasted about an hour in bed, with contractions coming about every 10mins and becoming more intense and some catching me off guard not allowing me to lay down through them.  I needed to start breathing through them. I am trying to remember how to describe a contraction.  The braxton hicks that I felt at 28 weeks was like my belly was a balloon slowly filling up with air and tightening before releasing. Much of the first few hours of labor felt the same but the contractions at this point would start in my back and radiate what felt like heat wrapping themselves around my belly. I heard that you could feel contractions coming on and then they would peek and slowly fall or fade.  Mine would come at what felt like full force and then fall away.

At about midnight I decided it wasn't worth me laying in bed because I was not able to rest comfortably.  At 12:30am my contractions went from about 10 mins apart to 3-6mins apart continuing to be intense and I started having to focus on them/stop what I was doing to make it through them. I suggested that Brian get a shower and load the card so that it would be ready. The frequency of  contractions was hard to judge if we should go to the hospital or not since it was a good 20mins away and I didn't want to be in transition in the car.  At this point I grabbed a towel to lay under the birthing ball which I was using to roll my hips around through the contractions just in case my water might break. From 1-1:30 Brian and I would have the following conversation as I would get a contraction, "oh here is another one....(pause)...I think we need to go soon, this is getting stronger....". Contraction would end. "I am fine now.  We don't need to go.  I feel like it should be worse than this if we go in." Its humerus reflecting back because a little part of me couldn't really believe that I was in labor or that we were talking about going to the hospital. I think I was in denial still that what we had anticipated for so long was actually happening. From 1:15-1:30 contractions were now 2-3 mins apart and with each contraction I would say we should go in but once it ended say never mind.  At this point the app on my phone was also telling us to head to the hospital.  Brian was standing at the door with the car loaded ready to go telling me that we had to go.  I made some toast with pb and went to the bathroom between contractions always making sure to get back to the birthing ball before one of the contractions hit. We finally were on our way at 1:40am.  I called Lauren and told her we were headed in and that we would let her know when we got admitted and when we needed her to head to the hospital.  The car ride was not as bad as I imagined and I was so very thankful the construction that was on the road from Hico to Stephenville was not happening overnight so it didn't cause any delays for us.

I know that for some getting to the hospital can stall out labor but for me it was the safety blanket.  Yes I wanted a natural labor so that it would give Aubrey and I the best start to breastfeeding and healthy new life/recovery for me. However in case something happened I appreciated being at a hospital that could help us if there was an emergency. We made it to the empty ER at 2am and I immediately had to pee.  We started the check in process with the ER and it seemed like it took forever even with per-registering.  It was so uncomfortable to sit in the car but equally uncomfortable to stand at the desk.  All I wanted was a birthing ball and the ability to roll my hips around to ease the pressure. I stood bent over the desk trying to breathe through the contractions that were still 2-3mins apart.  I started a text to Lauren our Doula as they wheeled me back to labor and delivery. It said "We are here going back. Can you please come. They are getting worse." I didn't send it until we reached the triage room. I remember thinking that I needed someone else to help guide me through them because they were becoming too much.  Each one was fine but it was the having to try and do things like check in and wheel back to the room and get in hospital gown etc that was hard to deal with while going through each one.  And they were not leaving me with much time between them to even think. I went pee (again) and had Brian send the text that I had typed out.

The nurse came in to check and determine if we would be admitted. I would place my fists under each hip bone on my back and rock my body back and forth through the contractions while laying in the bed to be checked. It was the only thing that would relieve some of the pressure and pain. I was at a 5.5 and had been a 3 the day before at my weekly dr appt. where they had done a membrane strip. Contractions were continuous and the dr on call had us admitted.  We moved to our labor room at about 3am where they began to get me hooked up and IV in.  It took several nurses before they were able to get one in. It would not be the last of the many stabbings throughout our two day stay at the hospital that would leave both of my arms bruised for weeks. Lauren arrived shortly after we were in our room and I just remember asking to get out of bed and that I needed to be able to do something and be in a different position.  Once we finally got the okay to get up and everything was set monitoring Aubrey and I. I tried to sit on a birthing ball.  OMG! all I remember is that it was worse than laying in the bed. We then elevated the bed and had me on my knees leaning over the back.  I had nitrous gas at that point to help take the edge off.  However unless I took a breath in right before the contraction peek hit I wouldn't be able to feel much relief and again it was hard to tell when a contraction was coming because they seemed to just abruptly begin with the heat on my back wrapping around my front.  I had Lauren and Brian taking turns alternating between pushing my hips together or rubbing with fists against my hip bones.  Contractions (which looking back was a little bit of back labor) continued to intensify and kept coming 1-2mins apart. At about 5am they checked me and I was a 7.  I felt a little defeated because how was it that I had been doing this for a few hours and not been further along.

During the contractions I would sway back and forth on my knees leaning against the bed with Lauren or Brian adding some kind of counter pressure.  I found myself being abrupt and demanding on how they needed to do it for each one. I may have managed to elbow Brian in the head several times on accident as I reached my hand back to guide theirs on where to push to give some relief. Between 5am and 7am through my contractions I would say "guys please help me" and "I need help". looking back Brian and I laugh, but I couldn't communicate what I needed nor did I really know.  I just needed relief. I remember during this thinking about some of my friends who I knew gave birth naturally and tried to draw strength from not just that so many women before me had done this, but that people I knew and love did and I was capable.  I did occasionally think, "why do people do it naturally. why did I want to do this again?" Then I remembered Aubrey and that this was temporary.

At 7am the Dr on call came back in to check me.  At this point she said I was a 10.  My response was "OH THANK GOD." And I began to cry. I needed to be a 10 in that moment.  My water had not yet broken and they gave me the option of allowing it to break on its own (so that my contractions would naturally bring down Aubrey more) or having them break it which would just increase contractions and pain (but Aubrey would still need to drop lower before I could push). I decided to wait for my water to break on its own....

Happy Thanksgiving!

This Thanksgiving Brian and I are so very thankful for the health of our little girl Aubrey Katherine.  We are so excited to meet her in 110 days (or there about).  With every kick and jab I feel, I am so grateful for the opportunity to know what it is like to carry and grow a tiny human (as Brian likes to say). 

A Season of Grace

The side of me that is greatly influenced by the culture that I live in is nervous to speak it out loud. However, the one that knows the Lord as father also cannot help but see his grace in this season of our lives.


So instead of being afraid to jinx myself I will claim this season of grace. The last five years have been a season of heartache and grief and I really feel like in the midst of that God has seen our faithfulness and is proving himself faithful once more by overwhelming us with his grace.  Not that I did not see God's presence in each heartbreak and grief but it was just enough for that moment.


The Lord's provision and goodness is all around us. Brian finishing school, being commissioned, and placed are all things that we have had to put our heads down and trudge through to get to where we are now. Both of us moved with jobs.  We always hoped that Brian would of course have a job when we moved but for me to have a job too was overwhelming provision.


And by far the greatest mark of grace in our life right now is that we are expecting a baby in March of 2017.  No words can express the joy and excitement nor can they speak of the gratefulness of our hearts.  We know so many that have had trouble conceiving or have lost their sweet little's and we do not take this blessing for granted.  What a blessing to not have had to stress over trying to conceive.  This grace is huge in that we have waited patiently (or impatiently) for Brian to finish school, to be good stewards of our money, and continue to work towards being debt free. God continues to meet us by providing both of us jobs and me specifically with a job that started right away with amazing health insurance right when we would need it most.  As I sit back and watch all of the pieces fall into place I can only give the honor and glory to the one who has sustained us through it all. 

Oh yeah...WE moved!

It has been a crazy last four months with birthdays, graduation, packing and saying goodbye to those dear to us in Kentucky and making the move to Texas at the end of June.


Brian had received word in April that he would be placed at Hico First United Methodist Church in Hico, Texas.  We were overjoyed to know where we would be going at the end of June.  We packed up and headed out on June 26th.  I didn't finish up at my job until the 24th so packing and moving were very busy.  We took a two day detour to Branson celebrating Brian and I meeting there 8 years ago.  We then picked up some items in storage in Austin and finally moved in on July 1st.  Brian preached his first sermon on July 3rd and I started at Tarleton State University in Stephenville (20miles away) on July 5th. 


So grateful for a job upon moving but I could have really used a week to get a little more settled.  I have had to give up control of how much gets done and on a certain timeline. We finally just started painting this last weekend.


We have loved Hico so far and are enjoying getting to know the people there.  Still listening and seeing where I might get plugged in.   We are excited to see what God does during our time here. And we may really REALLY be hoping and praying that we are here for 2 or 3 years. I am over this moving process at this point...

Excuse me...

I talked with my best friend from college a couple weeks ago and when we started the conversation my answer to her "what's new?" question was "not much".  Yet as we continued the conversation I began to remember everything that had been happening in the past couple of month and somehow time had just slipped by.


I am realizing that I am needing to spend more time reflecting, but as I continue to try and lean into the now of our quickly fading time in Kentucky, I am having a hard time of making space.


Excuse me while I:


 Lean into my grief. And by lean into I mean become a blubbering mess. So please if you think "its been a year, pull it together lady" keep it to yourself. I have realized I found a mode of living that copes and moves on. All the while I am brokenhearted. You know the verse in the bible that says "he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted". Well I never considered myself brokenhearted. Just someone who has experienced loss. So whenever I heard the promise of coming to bind up the brokenhearted it was always referring to those other people. Not me. Yet that is what I am. Not that my brokenness defines me but I have to admit where I am at.


 Accept my brokenness. One morning recently as I got ready for work a little weepily and was reflecting on how much I wish that I was not broken. I realized what an ironic thing to wish as we are all broken and need of Jesus.  In some ways I know that my losses are helping me realize in a new way my need for a savior and how much more this world is in need of one as well.


 Figure out how to believe and live into the idea that at any one given moment people are generally doing the best that they can.  Brene Brown if you did not know is a fantastic researcher and author. In her book Rising Strong she talks about coming to that realization.  I am still learning to accept this. If I do then I have to grieve the fact that some people may never be who I need them to be.


 Start transitioning out of life in KY.  This means leaning in when you want to disengage.  This means living in the tension of what is and what is not yet.  Do I have a count down for how many more days of actual days at work? Yes, yes I do.  Do I realize how lucky I am to work where I work. Yes, yes I do.  One of my best friends works with me and I have a great friend as a boss who really is the best boss.  I am not sure how anyone will live up to him.  FYI, while I do mean "transitioning" I also mean freaking out.


Celebrate that Brian was recommended to be commissioned, has a placement (details to come soon) and he graduates in a little over a month. We have worked for four long hard years. And yes I proudly say we, Brian will be the first to admit that it took both of us.  Its been real but we are ready to put "school" in the rearview mirror until we find ourselves sending off a little one to Kindergarten.

Sometimes your world is falling apart

Sometimes your world is falling apart.
That is a fact. 
And its ok.


I want to like the song by Casting Crowns, "Just Be Held" and for the most part I do...But I have not been able get over one line. 


Just Be Held by Casting Crowns
Hold it all together
Everybody needs you strong
But life hits you out of nowhere
And barely leaves you holding on


And when youre tired of fighting
Chained by your control
Theres freedom in surrender
Lay it down and let it go


So when youre on your knees and answers seem so far away
Youre not alone, stop holding on and just be held
Your worlds not falling apart, its falling into place
Im on the throne, stop holding on and just be held
Just be held, just be held


If your eyes are on the storm
Youll wonder if I love you still
But if your eyes are on the cross
Youll know I always have and I always will


And not a tear is wasted
In time, youll understand
Im painting beauty with the ashes
Your life is in My hands


Lift your hands, lift your eyes
In the storm is where youll find Me
And where you are, Ill hold your heart
Ill hold your heart
Come to Me, find your rest
In the arms of the God who wont let go


You see sometimes I get the feeling that Christians are afraid to say that there is chaos and that maybe the world is falling apart or a specific area of your life is falling apart because that might diminish who God is.  Any time we live in fear we are getting it wrong.  And if we really think acknowledging the hard in life and the chaos changes how big God is and who he is in the midst of the chaos we are getting it wrong. And in no way can we actually be coming alongside someone if we minimalize what they are going through.


Casting Crowns gets the next line right when the lyrics read "Im on the throne, stop holding on and just be held".  So in the middle of our world falling apart remember that no matter what is happening that the Lord is still on the throne and he is still in control.  And even more he is inviting us to be held by him and surrender.  Surrender to the only one who truly can love us.   And the only one who can truly give healing and life.  But for now, in the hard, just sit and be held.

1 year - AJ

I will be honest, yesterday was hard. And I was not able to really put into words what I was feeling or really reflect on the last year as I would have liked.


Yesterday marked one year since AJ was shot and killed. I will always have that night engraved in my mind.  Once again, a sudden loss for my family and one without much closure as there is still an ongoing investigation.


The end of January will mark five years since mom died.  After she died I couldn't think of anything so traumatic happening anytime soon.  Nor did I expect it to.  Yes, there is a healthy level of fear that whenever you get a phone call from a loved one that it could be the thing that stops you in your tracks. But if I am honest the shock of my mom's passing will never compare to my baby brothers at the age of 16.  Nothing prepares you for that call nor the year(s) that follow.


Not a day goes by that I do not think of AJ or miss him.  Every time I saw a group of teenagers or really even one skateboarding, riding their bikes, or walking around I would think about how that should be him.  Knowing friends that have siblings around AJ's age has also made it hard this year. There is always a little extra jab of pain that comes out of nowhere when I am interacting with them.


Leading up to the Christmas holiday and break I found myself excited for a break and for home but anxious as the last two times I went home were not for good things.  As always it was wonderful seeing family even as my heart longed for Lauren to be there. Yet, coming home and walking the same days that led up to that night again left me restless and sad.


And if I am really honest numb because my grief is still so real. 


I kept busy at home and colored.  Found my way to a friends house and got to play with her almost 6 month old daughter.


I tried to sit down and process to not let the day slip by without dealing with my emotions.  However, the words didn't come and I continued to push the sadness away.


Thankfully a good friend of ours, Matt, was Jesus to me yesterday and unknowingly led me to facing my emotions.  Matt brought over dinner, dessert, and a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  I managed to keep it together until him and Carter left but I sat in my house overwhelmed with love that I could not run from my emotions anymore. I was able to spend time with Brian and friends to end the day.  Overall it was okay and what I needed but it was consuming.


So much has happened over the last year.  In spite of the brokenness it has also been a year marked by grace, love, and hope. Not in this world or broken people but in the Lord who is present in the midst of all of the mess.


This second year will not be any easier than last as AJ would have been 18 and graduating High School. But it will be a year of new and exciting things I am sure.  It will be a year of healing, growth, and forgiveness.


And I will continue to choose to wait on the Lord for answers and trust his hand and his timing.

Who I am

I didn't realize until recently, but somewhere along the way I lost a little bit of who I was.  It didn't happen all at once, even if I can pinpoint events that started the process, it was a slow process that I couldn't even name. 

About half way through this year I woke up one day and realized I no longer knew what I wanted to do with my life. After about a week of wrestling and coming to a place where all I could say for certain is that I knew I wanted to still be a mother and apart from that one thing it's all up in the air and I'm ok with that. 

Then about three weeks ago one day I looked in the mirror as I was getting ready for work and I saw me. I hadn't realized that I had been missing. But for those few minutes as I brushed my teeth the reflection in the mirror was me. 

If in that one moment I saw myself again it means that I must have been missing. All the other days the face that had been staring back at me wasn't quit me. This stuck with me over the next few weeks as the Lord slowly starting speaking into my life and revealing his truth. 

Last Wednesday at chapel I listened to the speaker as always and was excited to sing the last song as we took communion. It had been one I heard before and liked. We had even sung it at church Sunday. But in that chapel and in that moment and space the words of the following song came alive and I couldn't just sing the words I sang them, I meant them, and they were sung over me. 

God used that moment to remind me of who I am through "Good Good Father" by Chris Tomlin.

Oh, I've heard a thousand stories
Of what they think You're like
But I've heard the tender whisper
Of love in the dead of night

I was reminded of and reflected on Gods faithfulness.

And You tell me that You're pleased
And that I'm never alone

I was reminded that even in the craziness of life and grief and how messy a process it is, the Lord is pleased with me. What a needed reminder for the overachiever perfectionistic doer.

You're a good good Father
It's who You are, it's who You are, it's who You are
Focused my thoughts on who I have known and know God to be even when the answers that I want don't come. His character never changes.

And I'm loved by You
It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am
Reminded of the greatness of the Lord's love for me.

Oh, and I've seen many searching
For answers far and wide
But I know we're all searching
For answers only You provide
‘Cause You know just what we need
Before we say a word
Thanking the Lord for the way he meets me in my needs before I even know what I need.

You're a good good Father
It's who You are, it's who You are, it's who You are
And I'm loved by You
It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am
I am simply loved by God.  I am not my brokenness. It does not get to define me.

Cause You are perfect in all of Your ways
You are perfect in all of Your ways
You are perfect in all of Your ways to us

You are perfect in all of Your ways
Oh, You are perfect in all of Your ways
You are perfect in all of Your ways to us
An additional reminder of the Lord's character.

Oh, it's love so undeniable
I, I can hardly speak
Peace so unexplainable
I, I can hardly think
As You call me deeper still
As You call me deeper still
As You call me deeper still
Into love, love, love


Right now the Lord is asking me to lay down my brokenness and stop hiding behind it and allowing it to define me.  It does not lessen the hurt nor does it speed up the grieving process but it does allow me to be grounded in who I am. And it allows me to respond to the Lord's invitation to continue to grow and know him deeper in the love that he so graciously gives.

Life

I have been quiet for a few weeks as August and the beginning of September flew by.


My step-dad, Alan Hoover, tragically took his life on August 4, 2015 after a struggle with mental illness, grief/depression, and drugs.  Suicide is something that is hard to understand and process.  My relationship with my step-dad was different for a number of reasons but not matter the differences that we had, it is sad that someone can be so broken that they believe that death is the only way out.  Sad doesn't do it justice but I am at a loss for words to describe it.


It is hard to now watch my little sister, Lauren, work through and live with her nuclear family all being deceased before her 22nd birthday. Although she has three half sisters and many other family members and friends surrounding her, her idea of family and home has completely been shattered.


And that makes me angry. 


It was hard enough to loose AJ after finally feeling like we were getting back onto solid ground after mom's passing.  But this loss comes so quickly after AJ's death for which we still do not have answers or closure and have not even begun to dig into the grief that plagues us.

Then about three weeks ago, as Brian and I celebrating the ending to a busy summer term which included 4 of 12 weeks spent apart due to traveling that Brian had for work, church, and licensing school, I sprained my ankle jumping on a trampoline. And if you know me, when I do something I do it well even when its the first time I have ever done it.

I will be honest, I cried for over an hour that day. Not because of the pain (even though it hurt), I cried because it was one more thing. One more thing on a pile of things I have not been able to even deal with yet.


One of the things that brings me joy in this world is jumping on a trampoline.  For the first 2mins that we were jumping before I got hurt Brian said that my face showed pure joy.


Its not about the trampoline.  Its about in the one moment that I took to enjoy and let go of the stuff that has consumed this year I got hurt.  It was of course perfect timing as four days later I would be traveling to Asbury's Memphis location for work to do NSO and 10days later I would attempt to explore Chicago on a vacation that Brian and I had been planning for a year.


I sucked it up and made it through Memphis and Chicago (and even enjoyed them) but sometime between the two trips as I was limping around Asbury's campus, I had a thought, this outer limp that people can see is actually the outer expression of my inner brokenness and pain that people cannot see.


Praying that I can be gentle with myself as both my heart and ankle continue to heal (even if it is slower than I would prefer). And praying for protection over my family as we reorient ourselves to life and that those near to us would continue to surround us with support and love as each of us need.

 

 

 

Reality

Reality.

Reality is defined as "the world or the state of things as they actually exist, opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them".

Reality is hard to swallow.

Reality is its been 6 months since AJ died.

Reality is that the investigation of his murder has not come to a close.

Reality is I am still neck deep in grief.

Reality is life is super hard.

Reality is coming to terms with how broken I am.

Reality is admitting I am not fine.

Reality is what a friend of mine once wrote:

And this is life, it smacks you in the face, it blesses you in countless ways, it confuses you to the point where you forget who you are and where you're going. 

This is my reality.

I am trying to remember who I am and where I am going.

To love is to risk

One of the hardest things for me to wrap my mind around is the call to love others.  Not because this is hard for me to do but because to love is to risk.

We are commanded to love God and to love others.

To love God is easier than loving others, as he is perfect and worthy of love. To surrender our lives to God is love.   And yet to surrender is to risk.  In my staff group we are working our way through the book Surrender to Love: Discovering the Heart of Christian Spirituality.  It is through love that we are able and should surrender.

But to love is to risk.

Its crazy to think about how much we are capable of loving.  So many times in my life I have said my heart is all over the country.  Wherever a family member or friend lives there my heart is.  I think if that is true, then I have loved well.  And yet in loving well it will inevitably be that my heart is broken with loss and grief at some point in my life.

I was blessed with the opportunity to go to California about a month ago to surprise my older sister (and in the process see one of my younger sisters who lives in Arizona). Family love, sibling love, and more specifically sister love is so important to me.  Its easy to love and forgive within a family unit, it is usually the safest place.

Three days later, my best friend from college came to visit for a long weekend. This August marks 9 years since I first met Lynda.  5.5 of those years we have not lived in the same state but have been blessed to visit each other and continue our friendship.

Just last week my other younger sister stopped through for a night on her way to a wedding. And at the end of September Brian and I will go to visit her in Florida for a weekend.

And yet the pain from loving AJ so much and then losing him can never be replaced with or by my love for others.  And as much as my heart was full with love and shared time with those I love over the last few weeks, the portion of my heart that will always be my little brother's is missing still.

Love is hard.  And to truly love is to risk greatly.  But love does not disappoint even if the world disappoints.  No matter the heartache from old friends of mine with whom I have grown a part or from the loss of a loved one or friend, love is worth it.  I pray that I would continue to love  more deeply now.

Love those that God has placed before you.  And may you find great joy in knowing your heart is all over the country and possibly the world. Don't let your hearts become hardened and bitter. Go and love. And when necessary grieve, because to love is to risk.
 
"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief and unspeakable love." -Washington Irving

Justice and Grace

Someone in my staff group asked me a couple weeks ago about how I am doing and where I am in my grief?  How do I process getting an update from the detective?  Do I want to know who did it?  Do I believe in the death penalty? Will I be better once they find out who did it and justice (whatever that looks like) is served?

Sometimes it is hard to put into words what I am feeling and where I am.  I don't usually do well when we get an update or if I have spoken with the detective.  Its usually good to get more information but I get all shaky, cold, and overwhelmed.  It feels like an out of body experience.  For example the other night when I got an update I was sewing but no longer wanted to sew or do anything but sleep or eat.  And realistically after an update sleep is not the thing that comes easy as my mind is twisting around trying to find a place to land.

Over the last few months, for me it has always been about what happened that night not about who specifically pulled the trigger.  If they think it is one of 3 or 4 guys it does not change anything to know the face or name behind the murderer.  However, I think there will be a sense of relief and weight that will lift once all is said and done and someone is charged and prosecuted.

In some ways finding out will make me face all of my feelings, doubts, and questions.  No more hiding behind waiting for more answers and the investigation.  Whatever is at the end will be what it is and it will not change the fact that AJ is gone.  It will not make it easier but it will make me trudge through it.  I want to move through it and I know that it is right, however I am not looking forward to it.  My hope is that when I do have to move through the mess, God's grace and love will meet me in the middle of it and hold my broken heart.

If you know me I am a J on the Myers Briggs scale.   100% a J on the scale. Brian sometimes (in my opinion) and in a joking manner mistaken my "judging" with actual judgment and justice and fairness.  Because as much of a J (judging) preference I am equally known to stand up for injustice.  Fairness is important to me.  We grew up not being able to use the following phrase, "that's not fair".  Maybe its because "life isn't fair" (a phrase I was told often), either way I did not like not being able to express when I thought something was not right.  Not that I, as a child was capable of really knowing what was fair or not.

But in reality, life isn't fair. God's perfect love for mankind through Jesus Christ shows us exactly that when he extends his grace to us instead of his judgment.   We are all offered life instead of death.  For the here and now, not just for eternity. My hope for the person who pulled the trigger that night is that he would one day choose life that is extended to each of us.  I know that the brokenness in the world is the cause and that it was not God's will that AJ died as he did.  Sometimes its hard to hear comments within the Christian circle that contain broken theology to try and explain suffering and loss such as what has been experienced with loosing AJ.  Just as this was not God's will and perfect plan for AJ, it is not God's desire that the person behind the gun live life apart from knowing him and choosing life.

My prayer is that justice, laced with God's perfect grace, would find the young man behind the gun.

The new normal

I am realizing more and more that there is a hole in my future.  One without my mom and now one without a brother.  It took me longer to realize the holes that mom had left but that is also because I shut down for a bit as I learned to function in the new normal. 

I hate that phrase.  The new normal.  This is not normal or right and I refuse to settle for the normal that I am being forced into.  The normal without my little brother.  Life will never be "normal". I am not even sure what that word means.

With what would have been AJ's 17th Birthday, 4 month's since AJ's death, and Mother's Day all wrapped up into one week, last week was hard.

About a month ago, I told two ladies about my brother who do not really know me and did not know about his passing. I chose the word homicide to describe what had happened rather than "murder".  For some reason homicide feels like a nicer or softer version compared to murders rough edges. And yet homicide means murder. And that is exactly what happened.  Maybe you would suggest just saying that I am grieving the recent loss of my brother.  However,  it does not do what  my family and I are having to walk through justice.

Since then I have been coming to the realization that just as we transitioned into a new state and life 1.5years after mom died we will again find ourselves transitioning 1.5 years after AJ died once Brian graduates in May 2016.

So what do I say to people when they ask how many siblings do you have?  I have for the past 17 years answered that question with 4 sisters and 2 brothers and never blinked an eye.  I still have the same amount, but just as people still ask random questions about my mom (assuming she is still alive) they will ask about my brother and I will have to explain what happened.  Conversation downer.  Its real but it is not always the most fun to have to explain to new people that you meet.  And yet, at the same time that is all you want others to know about you.  I remember struggling with wanting to be known when we moved to KY and to really be known would have been to know my mom had died and I was still working through it.  I am sure the same will be true about AJ and our next big transition.

That's my new normal.

This semester I have committed to making space for me throughout the week to worship with others outside of Sunday Church or even my weekly small group.  I have found it is helpful to be around others worshipping as well as giving myself more intentional opportunities to hear the Lord speak to me and my broken heart.  It is an effort to counteract my self preserving coping skill of checking out. What this has looked like for me is attending Wednesday Chapel at Asbury as well as going to the once a month woman's communion evening get together.

Over the semester many times I have found myself walked into Chapel, putting my things down in the pew, and pausing to take a deep breath and let all the little things of life that I am carrying fall off me.  Some of these things include the daily grind of work and my to do list. And instead, I have time and space to lean into the other areas of my life. Likewise woman's communion has been a safe place for me to cry if I need and to process and work through the hard of life.

This week's woman's communion, like so many in the past, did not leave me without tears in my eyes.  This weeks included dinner, so we feasted and talked with others around the table. And then some woman shared their stories with us.  After we heard stories the speaker for the evening had different symbolic items, sea shells, roses, chocolate, etc. that you were instructed to take if what she said was true of you and then we would pray for that group of people that went forward and received the item. One 'grouping" of people were for woman that had lost a child, had concern for a child, grieving for a child, or something along those lines.  Not necessarily your child but a child.

As the speaker was describing this group my lovely friend Kim put her hand on my back.  I do not know why she did but I know that it was an encouragement. In some ways she was giving me permission to get up and get a rose  if I wanted.  I needed permission because I know that I am not a mom and yet that same ache is true for AJ.  Kim's permission and acknowledgement was comforting and validating even though I did not get up to get a rose. 

You see, I could barely get through the description of the "group" of woman without bawling.  If I would have stood up and walked over to take a rose I am sure I would have made a scene. So I sat and held it until about half way through the prayer. When I could no longer hold onto my grief.  Both Kim and Marcie cried with me and loved me in that moment.  One of the woman in my Staff group from work came and gave me a flower after the prayer as she had known I could not get one myself.  And in some ways I did not feel I deserved a flower.

Lately it seems my grief is bubbling to the surface and in society it is not acceptable to just burst out into tears and yet, woman's communion marked the third time in less than a week that this was true of me. I guess, as they say, such is life.

I am thankful for these moments that others can show me God's grace and love when I am unable to extend it to myself.

Just A Memory

The question of whether or not I did enough or was there enough for AJ continues to come up and I battle with myself knowing it is a part of the grief process and that I cannot be so hard on myself.  And yet, those desires and dreams that I had for AJ and the time, love, and hope that I wish I had a chance to extend to AJ in greater depth, can no longer take place.

Just the week before AJ's death we were all in Arizona for the 2nd half of Christmas break.  I am very thankful for that week hanging out with my family.  There are several great memories from that week but one that sticks out in my head is when Brian and I went with AJ to the mall to spend his Christmas money.

He had his eye on new clothes and shoes.  He as ever teenager does, knows exactly the kind of clothes they want and where to get them.   AJ bought a pair of pants and a t-shirt and then we headed off to other stores to look for a specific kind of shoe he wanted. He only had so much Christmas money left so we searched a few different places before we found some that he wanted and I decided that I wanted to help him pay for them.

You know the natural teenage boy response of indifference or entitlement? Neither of those were a part of his attitude or demeanor that day. Instead in all sincerity he double checked that I was sure and didn't mind covering the cost of the rest of the shoe. His face in that moment as he asked me is engraved in my mind.

So much of my heart for AJ has always been to meet every need he had if I could.  I show people love through meeting their needs.    I am so grateful that I said yes when I felt that tug to meet that need and to extend grace and love to AJ in that tangible way.

I cannot even imagine not having that clear recent memory and experience with him.  I know that I showed him love in that moment but more importantly I know that he knew he was loved by me.

The upward battle

This week I am weary from the upward battle I am fighting in so many areas of my life. I have been feeing the affects of this walk up this hill for a while but this week I have needed a break.

From grief, injustice (in general in life because my personality values that so much), relationships (both good and not so good or forced), work frustrations, to even the simplest of things that should cause me joy like gardening, nothing is happening without a fight.  Not that I expect everything to be great, its hard when you are in the middle of something so consuming and so important like grief to understand or juggle the other crap of life with a good attitude. I shouldn't have to work at getting a tiller to borrow.  I shouldn't have to feel forced to relate to people in a certain way but should be able to connect with people naturally. Relationships with people should be out of caring for one another not governed by expectations.

I managed to make it to Thursday.  I say make it because that is how it feels.  I am making it.  And so most of the time I feel like checking out.  My intentionality in the way that I love and serve others has
been work, instead of something that naturally flows out of who I am during this season.  I know it is why I take it more personally when what I can give (in all of the areas of my life) is not enough or if the effort that it takes for me to be present in other areas of my life is not acknowledged but taken advantage of.

I think its that point in the grief process that people have moved on while your still stuck right where you were 3 months ago when your world changed forever. People still ask how you are, but they ask in the simplest form of that phrase not out of really wondering if you are doing okay with the loss that you are inevitably still working through.

God sees me in my grief.  He really sees me. And when I want to give up he reminds me that I am not alone.  And for my not so healthy coping skill of checking out, he shows me love through someone tangible.

God's grace and love today is my wonderful friend and co-worker who gave me a hug.  Not that I communicated I needed a hug but because she felt the heavy heart I have been caring with me.
 She let me cry without expecting an explanation. And when I described the upward battle she responded with, "I will sit with you on this hill".  She will sit on the rock that's on the path up this hill mountain  that I am climbing and she will love me even in my ugliness and sadness.  She is allowing me to sit in my sadness and not have any expectations to keep going or give her anything.

 And for this, I am ever so grateful and thankful. Because like everyone else in the world, I am a mess.  Its just at this point in my life my mess feels like its seeping out of every crack of my life.  And its ugly.  Its disappointing. Its hard. And yet I am loved.

Worthy of Trust

A quote from the book The Hardest Peace:

God’s purposes in present grief may not be fully known in a week, in a year, or even in this lifetime. Indeed, some of God’s purposes will not even be known when believers die and go to be with the Lord. Some will only be discovered at the day of final judgement when the Lord reveals the secrets of all hearts and commends with special honour those who trusted him in hardship even though they could not see the reason for it: they trusted him simply because he was their God and they knew him to be worthy of trust. It is in times when the reason for hardship cannot be seen that trust in God alone seems to be most pure and precious in his sight. Such faith he will not forget, but will store up as a jewel of great value and beauty to be displayed and delighted in on the day of judgment.

 Wayne Grudem, The First Epistle of Peter

Dreams Die

It's weird how much of a tendency we have at wanting to hurry through the pain. Sometimes we put up the walls and or try and skip right over the mess. You can close the door but every time you open it and look out to see if the pain has gone it will always be there. The only way is through it. Pain is not fun. Vulnerability is not the easiest.

When my mom died I put a wall up and moved on only to find that I had put a wall so big around my heart that I wasn't being vulnerable with anyone in my life not even God.

 

This time around, in an effort to keep moving through pain and not hurrying through it I have been writing and sharing more of my heart than I have in a while. I do not want  all of the hard work that I did in 2014 to be forgotten and I do not want to return to that state of living.

And yet, its been weeks of processing before I could sit and finish this post.  Its real and its hard.  And typing it, reading it, and saying it out loud is even tougher. I did not know what to title this post and I am not sure I even like the title.

One main theme that I am realizing and still trying to put my head around is that dreams die. 

 

The night AJ died, some of my dreams and desires and things that I was excited for died with him. I know that I have shared a little or with some, losing AJ triggered a sibling loss but also a maternal loss. I know that I do not have kids and cannot really understand, but I know that AJ being 10years younger and with my mom dying when he was only 12, the maternal loss is there. 

 

Just last year about this time we were having discussions on if AJ should come and live with Brian and I. And I had kind of made up my mind that if the opportunity/discussion came came up again, I would not hesitate. I wanted more for AJ. And I wanted to try and give him all that I could. He had a rough go at it since mom died and I wanted my chance at helping, because I loved him. Not because I had all of the answers or even could imagine all of the hard that would have come if AJ had come to live with us.  But I loved him and out of that love I would have given anything to aid him. Brian and I never got that chance to welcome him into our home.  That has been and is still one of the hardest things that both Brian and I are walking through. 

 

But as we were talking about the possibility, I as many of you do too, dream up what could be. I dreamed up what life could have been like. Now please know, while I dreamed, I knew it wouldn't be easy and it would  change my relationship with AJ. But I dreamed that he could come and live here. We could sit on the couch and read together. Something we both enjoy. We could work in the garden together, make dinner together, and we would even teach him how to drive.  Maybe run track at the high school and I would go watch him run. He could mow lawns here or work somewhere in our small town. We could play softball at the field right by our house or ride bikes around town.  He could go with me to watch Sully and Harmon on Sunday nights. 

 

The possibilities of shared time together were endless.  You see that was what I would have given him, time.  AJ needed time, love, and an invitation into healing.  That's all I had to give but I knew that if I was present that it would be okay no matter what obstacles would inevitably come up.

Even when he didn't come and move here and I had come to peace with that, I still dreamed for him.  I dreamed of him graduating high school, going into the military, and then to college.  I dreamed and prayed for the same dreams that he had wanted for his life. 

But dreams die.  And three months ago, Monday, these dreams died.