{All these years later ...}

Someone recently said, “You would think all these years later, it wouldn’t be so bad.” That’s true, until it’s not. Like today. This is the day Hailey died.

I will not likely forget that morning.  The moment is seared into my memory. Several of us were piled in a small room sleeping on the floor.  The hospital staff had graciously offered the space, and it was an improvement on the uncomfortable, unforgiving chairs and sofa in the waiting room. It was a tight squeeze, but I appreciated having people I loved dearly within arm’s reach. The door cracked open, and the light from the hallway cut through the room. It was so bright. It seemed intrusive. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, thinking that whoever had just opened the door might go away if I just pretend to be asleep. They didn’t go away.

The next thing I knew, I was standing in the cold hallway being told to scrub up. Things hadn’t gone well for Hailey during the night, and now I needed to go see her.

She was two days post-heart surgery. I couldn’t hold her. In fact, it seemed impossible to get to her at all through the jungle of wires and monitors. But I found her tiny hand. Her little body had been so traumatized by the surgery. She was swollen, and her skin was a strange shade of pasty white. I held her hand, stroked the bottoms of her tiny feet, and kissed the top of her head a hundred times, tears streaming down my face. I was so tired, and this was the moment it seemed to sink all the way in that she actually might not come home with me. She didn’t open her eyes that morning, but I stood with her for as long as I could before the monitors screamed and the nurses hurried me out of the room. She only lived a few more hours. And when the doctor delivered the news, I was utterly devastated.

All these years later…

I know it’s ok not to be ok. I also know I belong to a God who makes it His business to heal the broken-hearted and bind up wounds, even those that pierce us to the core. You know, the ones we think we won’t survive. Yeah, He sure does. He does a masterful job mending the things that are broken. God is so good at being God.

I know that you don’t get over these things. They mark you forever.  I also know that you can learn how to carry grief forward in a way that honors where you’ve been without keeping you from where God intends for you to go. You don’t have to get stuck. But, you also have to want to get well. I wallowed for a while, allowing resentment and bitterness to set in. But, I realize now that I’ve come to know and understand the redeeming power of God’s love in a way I might not have otherwise known BECAUSE this is part of my story. I’ve seen His goodness and faithfulness over and over again. I know He means it when He says He’s always with us, even in the valley of the shadow of death.

I know refusing to acknowledge pain and grief only leads to more pain and grief. If we have the courage to be honest with ourselves, our people, and God, then we can move through the pain and come out on the other side better for having suffered it. God can’t fully address things we refuse to acknowledge. And He cannot redeem the things we refuse to put in His hands. When standing in the middle of impossible situations, look up. Lock eyes with Jesus and let Him at your heart.

I know God weaves the strands of our lives together to make something good and beautiful. He uses all things — every moment, every tragedy, every tear, every failure, every success. God's lavish, extravagant love and power redeem and restore broken things; all things work together for good and His purpose because He loves us. That’s His promise. When you belong to Him, nothing is wasted and beyond His reach.

I know that one day He will wipe every tear from our eyes, and there will be no more pain, no more sickness, and no more death. And I know in the meantime, He holds us in the palm of His very strong hand. He is full of grace and patient, and kind beyond measure.

Be encouraged today, friends. He loves you so. If you let Him at your heart and invite Him into the broken places, into your disappointment, He will show just how much He loves you. And, it will absolutely blow your mind. There is no pain or brokenness worth holding on to compared to the treasure that He is. I had to open my hands and let go of all my stuff to grab hold of Him. There is nothing that matters more than knowing Him and loving Him. Deeply. Wholeheartedly. Unapologetically.

Because Jesus changes everything. He’s done that for me and can do it for you, too.

{Full Circle}

Sure, it's been a lot of years. He was born and died before he was a year old. And, Saturday would have been his birthday. Emotions run wild on a day like this. There's sadness mixed with happiness; and then, gratitude mixed with wonder at the unfailing love of a Savior who picked up the pieces and put them all back together. Yeah, there's that. It's not uncommon for me on these kinds of days to seek solitude and quiet. My introverted self demands it.  But this day was way too full.

Instead of solitude and quiet, I stood on a platform in a crowded room full of people I didn't know. I was there with a team of pretty awesome musicians - most of whom I also didn't know - leading worship. On his birthday. That might not seem like a big deal, but the significance wasn't lost on me, though very few people in the room knew my story. God, however, knows my story, and He whispered to my heart that day to remind me.  Sometimes, I need those reminders. You, too? In this very sweet moment, God was drawing a giant circle around that season of my life and reminding me that there was a purpose in it. This was it. He was using me to declare His goodness and unfailing love. See, the truth of who He is is and what He has done can be applied to any and every situation. Mine. Yours. His goodness breaks through darkness and brings with it a glimmer of hope, because He is hope. He. Is. Hope. Here's the thing: I would never understand the depths of His love the way that I do without having lived through those moments. He lifted me out of a pit so that I could do the very thing I was doing that day. I was telling His story! The story of a love so great that He gave everything. The story of a God so good that nothing compares to Him. Nothing. What better way to honor Tyler's memory than by standing and declaring the greatness of God? What better proof of the faithfulness and unfailing love of God than to stand and sing of His incomparable goodness? I just can't even. . .

May I encourage you today, sweet friends? God is good. His goodness will penetrate the darkness even in the most difficult moments. And eventually, those most difficult, dark moments in your life will become more about His goodness than about your pain. You will find yourself standing in a spot where you expect pain and instead, you find peace. Or, you expect sadness and instead, you find gratitude and joy. I promise. He loves you so.

{Five Minute Friday | Free Write}

It's Five Minute Friday. That means unplanned, unedited, straight-from-the-heart-to-the-paper writing. Yep, you just write whatever comes out based on a word you're given. If you have five minutes, you should give it a try!  Find out how here. 

Today is a Free Write. We get to choose our own prompt, but the same rules apply.

Ready? Go. 

Space. S P A C E. There, that's better. 

I'm learning to create space in my life. Somewhere along the way, I learned that things lose their meaning and I lose my effectiveness when my life is overcrowded. The important things and people are overlooked while the unimportant things scream for our attention and time. Those unimportant things win far too often. Any one else? 

Creating space means figuring out when to say 'yes' or no' and who to say 'yes' or 'no' to. It means being willing to walk away from some thing or someone or some place when it's time. It's about boundaries, both establishing them and respecting them. Not everything or everyone gets to claim space in my heart and mind. Read that again, because it's a game changer. I am so grateful that this is true. 

Here are a few reasons I am reclaiming S P A C E in my life. 

1. Space creates room to breathe. You know, time to stop and re-set. Breathe in. Breathe out. Pause. Having that room to breathe goes a long way toward my sanity. Which, by the way, most days is questionable!

2. Space creates room for give-and-take. I'm learning to see what's right in front of me and I am learning to find the value in those unplanned, unexpected moments. I'm not saying I throw my calendar or schedule out the window. But, there are days when I recognize that I need to adjust. So, I do. And, it's ok. Nothing is ruined, wasted, or otherwise lost. Sometimes in the space of unplanned, unexpected moments are the most beautiful God-moments. And sometimes, in the space of unplanned, unexpected moments we make the BEST memories. I'll take that.  

3. Space creates room for creativity. When my life is overcrowded, it's safe to say my heart and mind are also overcrowded. When that happens, God-given creativity lies dormant and buried. That's never what I want. I need that creativity for those days when parenting requires a creative solution or when a shoestring budget threatens to ruin Christmas. 

4. Space creates room for rest. Exhaustion is not meant to be a constant state of existence. We aren't wired to sustain break-neck speed as we scurry through our days, head down. But that's what we do. Busy has become a badge of honor that we proudly wear. It makes us feel important. It makes us feel needed. But, when we live life exhausted nothing we touch gets our very best. Everything suffers even if just the tiniest bit. Sometimes, we leave a trail of a hot mess behind us. Here's the thing. My ability to rest is tied to my ability to trust that God really IS in control. So go on, take a rest. 

My life is far from perfect. My house is a mess. My kids are a mess. We have $1.43 in our checking account. We don't always get it right. But, making space for the things I'm talking about means that when life shines that blasted spot light on all my imperfections, it's ok. You know why? Because there's space for that too. 

STOP.