Submit to the One

On the 5th heavenly birthday of our son James, God gave me the most precious gift. I took our dog, Sammy, for one of our walks this morning. I was listening to the podcast, The Joyful Mourning, of letters written by other mom’s who have experienced pregnancy loss. I was in and out of tears listening and relating to their stories, when I saw a blue jay and a cardinal flying together from one tree to another. I thought for a minute about these two birds being together and thought it was interesting and hadn’t noticed that ever before. So, I stopped and looked up the symbolism of each bird and even came across symbolism of the two being together. This is what I discovered.

A blue jay represents good things like hope, truth, protection, and family. They also may be a reminder to check in with your loved ones. A cardinal symbolizes that God has sent an angel to look over you or that there are angels near. Cardinals have been a blessing to me many times. I then found that when you see a blue jay and a cardinal together it symbolizes confidence, wisdom, and knowledge. It is also often seen as a sign that you are where you need to be.

I went from tears of mourning right into a moment of pure joy and gratitude. For one, the Lord saw me and met me on my walk. He gave me the gift of seeing these two birds, what each of them symbolize, and even further affirmed what God has called me to right now.

God called me into ministry summer of 2022, a story I will share at another time. But I bring that up to say that God called me to be the coordinator for YoungLives in Baltimore City, a pregnant and parenting adolescents’ ministry. I have the privilege of getting to know and spend time with moms who have chosen to have their babies at a young age and the challenges this may bring to their lives. If you had asked me if this is what I thought God would have for me after losing Hope and James, I may have laughed at you, simply because of my heartache surrounding pregnant women and babies after our second mid-term loss.

However now, almost two years into having this role, it has been God’s way of showing me what beauty from ashes really looks and feels like. This is how God had it for me to honor the lives of our heavenly babies and I couldn’t be more passionate and excited that this is where he has me. So, for me to have this encounter on James’ heavenly birthday and for the symbolism of a blue jay and cardinal flying together to mean that I am exactly where I am supposed to be is the kindness of the Lord, affirming my role in ministry and the way that this is honoring my heavenly babies.

I love that the Lord has grown me in confidence, wisdom, and knowledge, another symbol of the two birds being together, along the path of grief. The ongoing learning of holding the tension of joy and sorrow in my own heart to allowing me to do this with others has deeply shaped me. I will forever hold this moment in time as a precious gift.

We started our day celebrating James as a family. All by herself, Elly got 5 gold candles, stuck them into her croissant and said we have to sing to James today. She said we had to use the gold candles because it reminded her of Heaven. I am grateful for her tender heart to want to do that. We all miss our little guy, but boy, are we all connected in a special way because of him.

“Being a mother means sending part of your heart out to the world and sometimes, sadly, sending part up to heaven…We may not mother our children in heaven the same way as we do in person, but our hearts can’t tell the difference.” This is a direct quote of a mom whose letter I listened to today. As my family mourns the loss of our heavenly babies, Hope and James, we also mourn all the babies who have gone too soon.

I went on a hike this morning with Sammy, our cockapoo. My desire was to listen to a podcast and get exercise. The podcast was excellent and the exercise felt great. But, I was met in an unexpected way that left me driving away from the park in tears.

Sammy and I started our hike going uphill. We reached the top and made a turn into an open sky. Flying overhead was an eagle (I think. It may have been a hawk, but beautiful nonetheless). Another time we saw an eagle at Cromwell was at Hope’s service, eight years ago. My brother, John, spotted two eagles flying over us as we sang, prayed, and cried over the loss of our precious girl. So, immediately, I was thinking about her and thanking God for the gift of remembering her and celebrating all of the ways Hope’s story has changed me.

Sammy and I continued on our hike. I was enjoying the scenery and the encouragement of Sissy Goff (Raising Boys and Girls podcast). We reached the spot where we had Hope’s service and I paused to reflect for a few minutes and took a picture with Sammy.

We started down the hill and a beautiful bright red cardinal flew right in front of me and landed on the tree branch. I stopped in my tracks. It was a direct gift from God to see him this morning. As I drove home from the park, I was struck with the reality of Jesus meeting me today, reminding me that he sees me, he knows me, and he cares for me. I love when things like this happen in nature. I love experiencing God in such a tangible way when I least expect it. I love that He knew what I needed and provided it even if that wasn’t my intention or plan at all.

I have heard before that red cardinals are one of the most common spiritual signs that people receive from Heaven. I’m thankful for God bringing Heaven to earth for me today. I am forever grateful for His tenderness toward me and the gift it is to know that Hope and James are with me in my heart until we meet again.

Elly was bonked by a microphone in Josh’s hand on stage at a mentor breakfast in front of 70 people. Josh was leading a game called name that tune, when he went to do a dance move, not realizing that Elly had gotten behind him and he threw his arm back and hit her right above her eye. Sweet Elly tried so hard to hold it together (it was already brave of Elly to be on stage at all). I ran up and grabbed her, took her to the bathroom and realized she needed stitches.

I was overcome with emotion. I was sad that Elly was hurt and would need to go through this and I was sad for Josh because I knew he felt terrible. I was also just overwhelmed with the day ahead as a result of Elly being hurt. I wanted to burst into tears right along with Elly, who really only cried for a bit. Josh, in his emotion and sadness that he hurt her, kept apologizing to Elly.

In the car on the way to Urgent Care, Elly said multiple times in her emotional voice, “mommy, it wasn’t daddy’s fault, it was the microphone.” She said this many times throughout the day. She wanted Josh to feel forgiven and not so sad. We made it to the first urgent care and they sent us along saying we needed to go to a pediatric urgent care or the ER.

With a friend’s advice, we went to the pediatric urgent care. We had to wait for it to open and wait some more to actually get the stitches. I was truly so grateful for how Elly handled it all. The doctor came in to put the stitches in and it was brutal to watch. Josh and I both wished we could’ve taken the pain for her. She did it though, got a popsicle and was good to go!

On the drive home, Elly asked, “mommy, does God cry with us?” I responded by saying that yes, he does! He does cry with us and he knows our every tear. I said that when we hurt, he hurts because he loves us so much. It was a parenting moment for me of understanding God more fully as my Father – all in Elly’s curiosity – seeing that in the same way that Josh and I both would’ve taken on her pain, God wants to do this for us as our Heavenly Father on a daily basis- he wants to take the pain for us because he doesn’t want to see us hurting. It’s hard for Him to see his children in pain, the same way it is hard for us to see our own kids in pain. And then, it makes me think about how God already did this by sending His Son, Jesus, to die for us, so that we could live in a broken world but with HOPE, knowing that we have a Heavenly Father who loves us so deeply.

After our conversation, Elly asked to listen to Goodness of God – and if you’ve been here for some time you know that this song was and is a significant song for me in my healing process. So grateful that she asked to listen to it because it reminded me to remember God’s goodness in hard and painful situations.

I needed to cry all day, couldn’t get myself out of a funk of emotion, being the feeler that I am, holding all of the feels for everyone inside. As I reflect, God was teaching me a whole lot through my Elly girl.

My mother in love sent me this text, “LOVE covers over a multitude of sins. She feels, she knows, she sees how much she is loved and it makes everything bearable and gives the ability to cope. Plus she is a tough little cookie! It will be a sweet memory of how much she is loved.” I loved her message because it is so true! And it is what God wants us (me) to know and feel when we are hurting, that we are so loved and he will provide for us!

I can’t believe May 2020 is the last time that I posted. I have opened to a blank screen many times but it wasn’t the right time. It feels like now is the right time. It is Hope’s heavenly birthday today, so that seems fitting.

We celebrated Hope’s life this morning as a family. Elly always asks how old Hope and James are and today Hope would be 7. We prayed, we read our favorite book about Heaven, and we honored her life. We miss her everyday. We wonder what she would be like, what she would be into, and what her heart would be drawn toward. Elly drew her the heart picture below and wanted to know what her favorite color was so that she could use that color. She went with every shade of pink.

We all still love the visual of Hope and James riding on a giraffe together in Heaven. This book has brought the hope of Heaven to us and for that we are so grateful.

Happy birthday to our sweet girl. We will be with you one day!

I am grateful for my two gifts here on this Earth to love, care for, and have adventures with each day. I am grateful that I get to be their Mom. I am also grateful for my two gifts in Heaven.

On the morning of April 30th, when we celebrated James’ life, I spent time writing in my journal. I wrote about how I pictured James climbing trees and riding on a giraffe, with his sister, Hope, by his side. As we sat on the couch as a family later that morning, we worshipped and praised God for our two heavenly babies. I told the girls how I had written in my journal that I am picturing James and Hope riding on a giraffe and we all giggled thinking about it.

That night, we read a book that we have about Heaven. We haven’t read it in a long time, but felt it was appropriate to read on that day. A few pages in, there was a picture of a giraffe with a little boy and a little girl riding on it. I immediately felt overwhelmed by the gift God was giving to me in that moment. We all experienced his love and compassion as we remembered being excited for James and Hope at the true adventure that riding on a giraffe would be for them. I am still undone at the Lord and his kindness in giving me such a beautiful vision of James and Hope together in Heaven. It felt like the Lord’s confirmation that he has these dear ones with him and they are whole, alive, and loving their heavenly home.

Mother’s Day was a sweet day. My family celebrated me as their mom with breakfast in bed, church, a walk in our neighborhood, and dinner outside with our parents. It was a beautiful day. I am grateful for the legacy of Mom’s I am following, especially my mom and mother in love, my aunts, and grandmothers. I also have sisters and friends who are incredible mom’s that I get to learn from and grow with on this journey.

Happy Mother’s day to all the Mom’s out there. I know each one of us has a story to tell. The joys and the sorrows, the ups and the downs, the victories and the losses. We are all learning to live in this tension each and every day. And it won’t go away until one day we, too, are riding on a giraffe in Heaven!

We live in a broken world. We have a broken story. We all are living in a broken circumstance. But, we have a savior who defeated the brokenness. A savior who turned our broken stories into hope filled stories. Thank you, Jesus, that our stories don’t stop at our brokenness, instead they lead us into the Father’s arms to be made new.

We have been made new this year. Our broken story is full of many different things, but today we celebrate and honor James Patrick Goodman. Our hearts certainly break that you aren’t here with us, yet we celebrate that you are fully whole and new. We love you and await the day we are united with you. Thank you, James, for teaching us a whole lot this year, and for reminding us every day to be grateful and to keep looking up.

Last week, our pastor taught about the Valley of Baka in Psalm 84. The Valley of Baka is also known as the Valley of Weeping. Psalm 84 reads…

How lovely is your dwelling place,
    Lord Almighty!
My soul yearns, even faints,
    for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh cry out
    for the living God.
Even the sparrow has found a home,
    and the swallow a nest for herself,
    where she may have her young-
a place near your altar,
    Lord Almighty, my King and my God.
Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
    they are ever praising you.

Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
    whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.
As they pass through the Valley of Baka,
    they make it a place of springs;
    the autumn rains also cover it with pools.
They go from strength to strength,
    till each appears before God in Zion.

Today, I celebrate that the Lord Almighty is our dwelling place, that we have spent a year seeking His strength, and that we spent time in the Valley of Weeping. Gratefully, we didn’t stay there because it isn’t meant to be forever, instead a temporary part of our journey. We have walked through a year of intentional healing and it has been a valley, yet, we are experiencing the springs! We have seen our pain used for good, mostly in our own hearts and lives. We have learned to go from strength to strength. We have gotten to know God in a richer and fuller way. Our prayer is to dwell in God’s house, seek His strength, and fix our minds on Jesus Christ today and always.

A gift from my sister that we will treasure.

For the first two weeks of social distancing, staying home, it all felt so surreal. What is happening? What are we doing? The unknowns and fears of it all swirling around in my head. Again, facing a time that is completely out of my control. A new season of grief. And this time it is with my community, our country, the world. Somehow, the not being in it alone and it not just being my grief, makes it a little better. We are all in this together. All of us have our own thoughts, fears, concerns, and situations or opportunities we are grieving. We all have someone or multiple people we are concerned about more than others due to their health, job, age or all of the above.

I have heard people say that maybe God is allowing this time to bring the family unit back together, to connect friends and family through zoom calls, to show all of us how to slow down, and to focus on what really matters. We have seen people rise up and engage one another in beautiful ways. Whether it’s neighborhoods putting rainbows and bears in windows for friends to find, musicians doing free concerts, zoo’s interacting with animals for all to see, giving of our resources to churches and organizations to support one another, or Jimmy Fallon’s at home edition. All of which, we have participated in and loved.

While simultaneously, we are all trying to wrap our heads around a virus that is sweeping over our world. A lot of people are sick and a lot of people are dying. This is serious. I know for me, I fluctuate between feeling anxious about all the things, to feeling gratitude for all the things. Amidst the tragedy, there are the gifts.

If there is something that I have learned in grieving the loss of two babies, it is that joy comes in the mourning. We will be filled with joy, more joy, after a season of loss, if we allow ourselves time to grieve and grieve appropriately. Go, give yourself time to grieve today. Grieve the loss of a life, a job, school, going to work, having a play date, hugging a friend, a trip you were supposed to take. Grieve. If your grief is a life, whether due to this virus or something else, I am praying for you. I am so sorry for your loss. Be still, enter in, and take as much time as you need.

Let us all mourn together in the same way that we are joining together to get through this season. And then the JOY will come. We will mourn our losses together and we will celebrate our joys together. I have heard that we should grieve something and celebrate something every single day. Let’s do this. Let’s give each other permission to grieve, work through it, and eventually let it go. And when I say let it go, I don’t mean we move on and forget, but instead, we move forward and choose gratitude.

And then JOY. Joy will be waiting for us.

“What does it mean to let go? It is not the same as forgetting and it is not simply “getting on with your life.” Letting go means releasing your child into the hands of God. Letting go also means releasing your grief into the hands of God. Even if our babies had lived, God would ask us to let go of them. This letting go is gradual- the first steps, kindergarten, college, marriage. When a baby dies, the letting go must happen all at once and it must be a choice of our will. Emotionally we must choose to place this matter into the arms of our Father, knowing He wants to fill our empty places with Himself.” (Threads of Hope, Pieces of Joy, Teale Fackler & Gwen Kik)

The letting go for me has been a process. The releasing into God’s hands has felt hard to do. The trusting at times almost impossible. The grief was heavy, often too heavy to even hold. However, the time came when I needed to decide that letting it go was what I needed to do. There was movement throughout this whole time for me. Some days forward and some days a step back, but always movement. For that, I am grateful. The heaviness has been lifted. The weight of it all, lessened. Why? I decided many weeks ago to release it to the Lord.

“The bitter water, the wilderness, the storm, the Cross- all are transformed to sweetness, peace, and life out of death. God wills to transform loss into gain, all shadow into radiance. I know He wants to give you beauty for ashes. He’s given me the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” (The Glory of God’s Will, Elisabeth Elliot)

There is purpose in our mourning. God transforms our ashes into beauty. He turns the heaviness into praise.

And now, 2020. It is time to turn the page. This is a new chapter in our story. A new year. A new decade. A lot to be grateful for and a lot to look forward to. I watched Louie Giglio share a message last night at the Passion 2020 Conference and I was so encouraged by it. Too much to share but his focus was on turning the page in our lives. He reminded us that there is no page of defeat that God can’t turn into victory. He concluded that the only way we can turn the page in our life is if we are turning the pages of the Book. God will show us how to turn pages if we are reading His Word. Listen to it . You will be blessed. https://live.passion.network/sessions/live (Session 5).

I saw this pillow at Target sometime after Thanksgiving and had to buy it. It felt like it fit with our season. I have chosen, more than ever, to stay home. Big things happened this fall and our lives are certainly full, but when given the choice, we chose home.

Choosing home has slowed our overall pace. And it has been so nice. The practice of it has helped me to be intentional in different ways. I have been able to be quiet, read, and journal. I have had more time and better time with Josh and my girls. I have enjoyed sitting on the couch under a blanket reading books with Elly while Daly is at school. I have enjoyed baking cookies, playing games, and pretending with the girls.

“Lingering is the completion of the experience; lingering is usually followed by awe and gratitude… I want more slow and deep in my life, and less fast and shallow. Lingering is one practice that helps me. Lingering helps me to slow down, to savor, to deeply experience.” -Lance Witt, Replenish

Slow and deep sounds wonderful. Looking ahead to a new year, I desire to continue choosing home.

This theme was confirmed for us by getting the flu on Christmas day. We are ringing in the new year at home and I am not mad about it. A whole week of confinement has been rough with illness, but somehow, at the same time, restful. My sister, Sara, and Daly went first. And then Elly a few days ago. Josh and I have been masked and washing hands incessantly, and are still OK. Praise the Lord!

We are being forced to linger this week. I hope that as we enter another year, I choose to linger more. I want more slow and deep in my life. Slowing down, savoring, and deeply experiencing sound like a beautiful goal for the new year. We are eager to say see ya later to 2019 and bring it on to 2020!

I have been reflecting on the last many months recently and have been overwhelmed with gratitude for the Lord’s hand that has been leading and directing me. On Thanksgiving day, we had dinner with dear friends and family. We were asked to write something we were grateful for on a leaf. Without any hesitation, I wrote Hope and James. When I have thought about that, I have been moved to tears. Not sad tears but thankful tears. The hard steps leading up to that point were necessary for me to write their names and feel deeply grateful.

I feel lighter. I feel like after my weekend away with Josh, I am lighter. The Lord used that weekend in a powerful way for Josh and me. We both are looking back on that time away (a little over a month ago) and we know that it was a turning point for us. A turning point to really trust God with everything. That even in our suffering, we choose Him. It was a significant time for us and one that will be marked as the most important weekends of our lives.

Now, as we are approaching Christmas, the celebration of Jesus’ birth, my heart is eager. I am eager for the Lord. I am eager to walk closely with him through all things. I am eager to learn more of who He is and how much He loves me. I am eager to share His love with my daughters and share that we can trust Him when life is good and when life is hard. I am eager because God has shown me His power and presence in tangible, holy, and beautiful ways in this season of my life.

My sister sent me this text a few days ago and it felt like it was directly from the Lord:

This morning, our pastor encouraged us to really think about what is on our Christmas list this year. He shared the story of Simeon from Luke 2:28-34. Simeon longed to see the Savior and experience His presence. He had heard of Jesus but he wanted to experience Jesus’ power, love, and fullness for himself. What am I asking for this Christmas? Do I long for the fullness that Christ is offering me? This song explains how my heart is feeling. I want to come and see what God has done. The story of amazing love. The Light of the world, given for us. I have tasted and seen God’s goodness and I am all in.

Jesus came so that those who are dead can rise. So that beauty will come from ashes. We have a story of beauty from ashes. A story where God has been present, has shown His power, and has revealed his deep love to us. We are entering the Christmas season with hope and joy. The meanings of our dear babies names. Thank you, Jesus.