Time in a Bottle

I love October so much that I'm posting twice this month. Ha, ha--no really, its for my own sanity. I desperately need time to reflect. And just sitting down doesn't work well for me. So I'm going to write about how I should not be so busy and slow down a bit...kind of ironic, isn't it?

Turning 35 has made me realize how fast the time has gone by. I don't mind that I'm only five years away from the big one, however, it feels like being 20 was only yesterday. I think about how different my life was then. Quite carefree, and for the most part, completely naive to the world around me. And yet, there are parts of my life that were already too grown up, even at that age.

Sometimes children have to grow up too fast. Their circumstances command them to take charge and survive whatever it is that may be robbing them of just being a kid. As a young adult, I did not understand the whys or the hows of what came to be, in my own life. But now that I'm a parent, there is a sharper perspective from where it once appeared blurry. Like the children, the parents are also trying to survive. And hopefully, there is a support system in place to help them through the 'life stuff'.

My mom has been gone for just over 3 years now. Celebrating another birthday, without her, was easier than I thought it might be. I thought about where she was at, when she turned 35. And it gives me joy to know that she was happy, beginning a new life for herself--and in some ways, for her children, too. I'd like to think that she knows that I'm happy, as well. To see all that has changed since she was here--and maybe God did grant her request for a 'news feed' of sorts. Wouldn't that be the coolest thing? To have social network up there, keeping tabs on earth-bound loved ones. But then I hear that Heaven is so grand--a place where time stands still. So it may be such that when I arrive and see my mom, it will seem as if no time at all has passed, for her.

I wish I could put time in a bottle. Not to save it up, or spend it later. What I want to put in that bottle are the memories of my kids when they were little. They still are kinda little, but I'm painfully aware of how fast it all has gone by. This kindergarten chapter, this going to school every day now...it has hit me that the time I have with them gets shorter, each year. My daughter will go to preschool, next year. The comments I hear the most, about that milestone, is all the extra time I will have. And that is something--time to do all the stuff that is hard to do when they are at home.

Lately, I've been convicted of how more often than not, I will find things to do other than play with my kids. It makes me sad, partly because my mind is always thinking of the next thing I have to do...and all the while, the days go by, the months, the years..."cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man and the moon..." Just like that old song, I'll wish that I would have said 'no' to the list, and got on the floor with them, instead.

My dad has a unique propensity for remaining somewhat child-like, even at his grandfatherly age. I have many memories of bike rides, going to the parks, wrestling on the stinky floor(yes, there was 'gas' involved), playing softball, board games and cards. Those happy times are good filters against the unpleasant circumstance of life. I think that somewhere in there, I'm a lot like him. I need to remind myself of what it means 'to play'.

Kids are so creative. I love that about them. Cardboard boxes are turned into doghouses for stuffed animals--complete with an attached doggie door, made out of a paper bag. Scotch tape is a commodity used for securing all kinds of things to the back of little tractors. The grill tongs are barracudas that eat squeaky bath-toy fishies. Spoons are dog bones, pillows and bean bags are rocks for the plastic snakes to hide under. Yarn and name-tag holders have now become dog leashes. Oh, another favorite: those metal holders for steeping loose tea? They are sharks that enjoy eating coins. The barbies go to parties--riding my little pony's and giant stuffed cats--as their coaches and carriages. Cinderella has gone lots of places, at our house! And then there is all the nature stuff on the kitchen island: tree bark, rocks, pine cones, and the glass jars with the 'bug of the day' catch. The fridge is covered in artwork...

Note to self: play with your kids today. The to-do list can wait 15 minutes...or maybe half an hour. We can't bottle up time for later, but the memories we choose to make will always be with us.

Our Captive Audience

We've returned from our end of summer trek out west: ten days away, 3,712 miles logged, 8 states crossed...loads of laundry later, it still feels like I've been home only a few days. With school starting, 30 hours after pulling into our driveway, I feel caught up in a whirlwind of fall activities--kind of like those dust storms we saw rolling across the interstate as we made our way home. Now that its October, the frenzy of activity hasn't stopped. Just shifted--now we're into harvest season. I'm enjoying this warm weather and the deepening of fall colors in our area.

Back to our adventure. Was it long enough? Nope. Did the time go by fast. Yep. Was it worth the effort? Absolutely. I can't tell you how good it was to leave our house in good hands, so we could put our hands on the wheel and see new places. Taking two small children on such a journey seemed daunting. I wondered, as the days lead up to our departure, was I crazy for wanting to do this now? Maybe we should wait a few more years.

I'm glad that we didn't wait. Our life as we know it has a lot of inertia at the change of seasons. We miss seeing each other when the long hours at work--and in our fields--take us away from just being together. When that happens, subtle changes in behavior become noticeable--not only in our kids, but with us a well. We all get a little cranky, you know? And we had our cranky moments on the road. Mostly on the long night drives, trying to get our hotel in that next town, only to do more driving the next day.


I lost track of the number of times Adrian asked, "Can we climb that mountain? How 'bout that one, over there?" Poor little guy. I had to tell him no, every time, because our schedule didn't allow for long hikes...and those cliffs were asking for trouble with our adventurous kids. But we did have our stops: Mount Rushmore, Yellowstone, and some great rest areas for grilling out at lunch time. It was fun to do that and hang out together. At one stop, we heard a strange clicking sound...apparantly, they have clicking grasshoppers out west. The kids were having a great time catching them. I discovered that one of Samantha's love languages is touch. She didn't quite meet her daily 'touch quota' while we traveled. She constantly asked, "Mom, can you hold me?" I kept telling her 'no', as I reached back my arm to hold onto her leg...sorry honey, gotta keep those confining seatbelts on...don't you wish we could travel like we did, as kids? It wasn't as safe, but it sure was more comfortable! My favorite place was the Grand Prismatic Spring, in Yellowstone. We stopped at dusk, just as the sun was setting. The steam from the geysers was rolling upwards, catching the rays as the sun went down. I've never seen anything more beautiful than those pools of water, teeming with microbes that somehow survive those hot temps. Those microscopic critters are what give the water its amazing hues of orange and turquoise. Adrian and I had a great time, tromping along the boardwalk--resisting the urge to run and reach over the boundary lines. The pictures were quite good, coming from an ordinary point and shoot camera. Soon they will be canvased on the wall in my house: a visual reminder of a place that made me feel so alive.

We had a great time visiting my aunt, uncle, and cousins--in their home state of Oregon. We saw many different landscapes: desert-like trails along the gorge, the falls at Multnomah with so much greenery and moss, to the Japanese Gardens in Portland. I loved every part of it and was glad they took us around to some of their favorite places. The kids liked the Bonneville Fish Hatchery the best. They got to feed Rainbow Trout--schools of them! It was fun to watch. There were also Salmon and some enormous Sturgeon kept there--one of them was like 8 feet long--wow.

I didn't buy much for souvenirs. Just took lots of pictures of mountains and the changes in scenery along the way. The kids picked out toys from the Fish hatchery--a plastic snake and a stuffed-fish(I guess it isn't really a 'stuffed animal' is it?). But there was one thing that I did buy. Something that will be forever treasured and personal: a canvased painting from my aunt. She is quite the artist, with over 30 years experience in her field. It was fun to see her artwork displayed on the walls of her house. When my eyes locked on "Sky Blue", I knew it had to make its way back to Minnesota...and hang on my wall. The colors, the water, the rocks--yep, that resonates somewhere deep inside me. Probably has something to do with an important family vacation we took. I was about five when we went up to Thunder Bay, way up by Canada. I remember skipping along the rocky shore, jumping over the water--I just wanted to keep on going...my poor, pregnant mother, chasing me down--probably certain that I would slip and fall into the frigid water below. I can't help myself: got my dad's spirit of adventure, and it is alive and well. Both my kids have it too: it was hard to contain them on our trip. There was no path they wouldn't get off of and try to explore! So when I saw my aunt's painting...I just knew it would come home with me. Mary and Dale were kind enough to ship it out so it wouldn't get damaged in our jam-packed van on the way home. Every time I look at it, I think of her--and how happy I am to have inherited adventure and appreciation for beauty: from both sides of my family.

Another aspect of our trip that was great: windshield time with Troy. We talk the most when we drive together. The joke is that I can never sleep when he drives because he won't let me. It never fails: I close my eyes and he's saying, "Hey, look at that." Or, he starts engaging in deeper conversation. Here's the interesting flip side of that: so when I talk to him--like at home, on the couch--he falls asleep. Go figure! This has been the situation for 15 years. Maybe its genetic...or maybe I am that boring(LOL). In reality, there is little time left at the end of the day, just to share. But when behind the wheel, its a different story. I get to hear what's going on with Troy. We talk about our hopes, dreams, frustrations. I wouldn't trade cheap airfare for the time we got on the road that week. It was priceless.

Here's to travel: maybe you've got some gravel in it, maybe its on the paved road. The Spirit of Adventure is out there(yes, we watched 'UP' on the way back). Can't wait to do it again and get away from what is too often a hectic, over-scheduled life. I'm glad for our little jaunts, too--like up to the cabin for a weekend. It's a lot of work to prepare for, but its always worth the trip. Lately, my "travel" has consisted of driving a new kindergartener to school, back and forth, each day. We take the paved road in, and the dirt road home--looking for combines, in the fields along the way. And in between, my brave little man is slowly telling me about his day. My little girl is also happy to have some 'mom-time', all to herself, as we run errands together in the morning. I know the day will come when they both will grow up and fly away. I'm learning to treasure our daily travels together in this busy season of life. For it is also priceless.

Casting a Line

It was morning, and as I opened my eyes, turning over, I remembered why I had worked so hard to get ready for this weekend. We were finally 'up north' as we like to call it in Minnesota. The sun was streaming in through the windows in the camper. The kids were starting to stir on the pull out couch below. You would think I had unloaded my burdens on the way up here, but in reality, they were still very much upon my shoulders.

We arrived on a Thursday evening. Our extended family trickling in with vehicles of many sizes: cars, vans, SUVS...our brother-in-law took the cake with his truck, camper, and boat--all in tow. Quite an entourage, and he manages it well on the road! The kids were running around in circles with their cousins, flash lights whirling about. It was all fun and games until our daughter was smacked flat on her back, in the dark, with a bump on her head. She was no longer a 'happy camper'...but she got over it--Arnica gel to the rescue! These things happen in the excitement of getting away.

While driving up, I got a call about a produce order that I had tried to pick up before we left. Long story short, there was a miscommunication between me and the contact site. So here I was, on vacation, and stuck with 30 lbs of perishable food, waiting to be picked up in a humid outdoor storage shed. I called everyone I could think of that might want to drive the 30 minutes and pick up my order. It wasn't looking good. I was envisioning the possibility of paying $80 for something that I wouldn't get to enjoy. Not cool.

My husband Troy, a lover of fishing, was itching to get out on the lake. Only problem was the gas line to the boat motor was shot. So he had to make a trip into town and get that fixed. When he got back, he was ready to go. However, no one else seemed to be in any hurry, so his patience was starting to wear a bit thin. The kids and I decided to join him, although I could sense this may not be a peaceful time together. It's hard to enjoy fishing when you have to keep a curious little girl from leaning too far over the side of the boat. It's hard to relax when you're trying to explain to an eager little guy how to cast a line, and yet not hook his sisters' eye out, in the process. Question after question, the frustration was mounting. It seemed like all we were catching was a lot of hot air as we sat in that metal boat, under the noonday sun.

Adrian had told us, before we left, that he was going to catch a big northern while we were up here. I sincerely hoped that he would, but you never know how hungry the fish might be on any given day. As we sat in the boat, I had a moment of silence in my heart, praying that he would catch that fish. It sure would make our time together more enjoyable. The boat motor started to sputter, and suddenly the oars we brought along seemed way more important than the net we had forgotten at the dock. "Oh no, please God...don't let us get stranded out in the middle of this lake!" We started drifting towards the cattails and cabbage weeds...this was not looking good at all.

We dropped anchor and decided to stay where we were. It was time to cast our line and see what came back to us. We waited awhile...and then casted, again and again. It was getting warm. The bag of necessities was worth running back up the long stairs for. Out came the snack bars and flavored water. Yep, we might be here for awhile. There sat Adrian, with his dad behind him. Both sets of hands on the pole, casting and reeling. It was a beautiful moment for the both of them. I got the camera out and started filming, not yet knowing what would be on the end of that line.

And then it happened. Adrian's pole was no longer straight and light on the fingers. It was now bending under the weight of something really big! Took awhile, but the two of them managed to reel in that northern pike. Now how to get it in the boat, since we had no net. It was a struggle, but we got that thrashing lake shark into the boat and eventually, unhooked and restrung in the water, towing behind us as we made our way back to shore. Thankfully, the motor had enough umpf to get us home...it completely gave out when we got back: bad water pump.

Our son was the proud angler of a 27", 4lb northern! As we pulled into the dock, we yelled out, "Adrian caught a fish!" Soon, everyone came running down the steps, with cameras in hand. My normally photo-shy kid was happy to oblige his relatives by smiling and holding up his fish that was over half his height in length. We quickly forgot about our momentary trials out on that boat and celebrated with a 5-yr olds' fulfilled dream.

Getting back to that Friday morning...when I had opened my eyes, the first words to pop into my head were these: "Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you." I Peter 5: 6-7

I felt some of my burden lighten up as I pondered these words. I didn't know at that time what we would catch, but I felt better than I did while traveling up here. God did provide for us in many ways this weekend. He brought to my mind a certain friend who was able to pick up my produce order. That was huge for me. Now I could enjoy our weekend.

Sometimes we work so hard just to 'get away' from our reality. It's ironic how stressed out I can become, just preparing to leave my hectic life. But the flip side of that is in those quiet moments, in the beauty of creation, I seem to hear God's voice more clearly: "Just cast me your burdens, and I'll send something back to you that you can handle." And in the form of a fighting fish, it brought a lot joy--and a good meal, too!

A Beautiful Occurence

You've maybe heard the rhetorical cliche': has it ever occurred to you that nothing occurs to God? Last night, the kids and I were outside, enjoying the end to a rather perfect day. I was working in my landscape when it hit me: this has been a good day. Took me to the end of it to realize how peaceful and content I had felt...a feeling I haven't experience in weeks, I must say.

Our summer has been quite busy. My husband has had an interesting season at his job and in farming--among other projects--making the time that we have with him seem so short. We have missed him. Adrian said,"I want Daddy home. I miss him." So we dialed him on the phone and were both surprised at how chatty he was(normally, my son refuses any phone conversations!). Samantha also had her turn, and in her usual display of charm--talked to her Daddy, smiling all the while, until he was wrapped even tighter around her little finger.

It was one of those moments you don't want to forget. Even though Troy was gone last night, we felt like we were blessed beyond understanding. I enjoyed riding bikes with the kids on the dirt road, bordered by trees and wide open spaces. The air was fresh, the wind blowing the grasses in breeze. We didn't want to go inside. But even the longer days unfold into bedtime routines, albeit much later. Kids were tucked in and then the house needed some serious attention. Troy walked through the door, earlier than expected, so we did have some time before the day came to a close. These are the moments that we live for...the moments that we often miss because we're too busy.

Not many days before, my attitude looked somewhat different. Thoughts of running away from noisy children, piles of laundry, and a sink that never seems to stay empty was quite attractive. Years ago, when working a full-time job, my nightmares consisted of angry customers and plants--chasing me down...now I wake up with little people lying on the floor, a near miss under my foot...or, staring me in the face, asking me for juice. Who needs an alarm clock?

Thank you God, for the people in my life who do grant me a break from time to time. They are like angels to me! Thank you God, for reminding me that true contentment comes from knowing You. Thank you God, for the gift of life and learning to live it out more fully. To enjoy what You have given us and to not strive for more than is enough for me. Thank you that nothing occurs to You and that you make all things beautiful(my heart, continually), in its time.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end. I know that nothing is better for them than to rejoice, and to do good in their lives, and also that every man should eat and drink and enjoy the good of all his labor--it is the gift of God." Ecclesiastes 3:11-13

(Thank you, Pastor Derrick Skoglund, for this reminder and for sharing this text on July 10th, 2011.)

Powerful Words

It's been a busy month. I was thinking about how long it has been since I posted. And now, here it is the last day of June. Don't think I can squeak out anything too profound on short notice. But I do like to post once a month, so I'm going to share something cool that happened to me today. Before I do, bear with me as I set the stage...

Family from my mom's side came to visit us last week. They have now gone home, as of yesterday. This afternoon, I was putting bedding away, rolling up deflated air mattresses, and keeping our washer humming, with swirls of clothing from my kid's empty drawers. It was a great time together. Good conversations, reconnecting and getting to know each better, now that all of us are grown-ups(LOL).

I was kind of sad to see it come to an end. Bittersweet, you know? The kids have commented that they miss playing with their big cousins--I'm sure they are more fun than their mother, who is with them all the time! My favorite time was meal times: my aunt is a rocking chef who has incredible recipes. Everyone is together, eating, hanging out. Much more inviting than an empty house can be, at times. Ok(segue): back to the story...


During the quiet of nap time, with westerly drapes drawn, I started to pick up piles of music that came in tow with my mom's piano. It was great to have family that were willing to help load up the gigantic instrument, as well as drive it the six hours up here, and then unload it into my living room. I wasn't much help, but I watched as the guys lifted and unwrapped it, like a special gift.

I have fond memories of my mom's piano, hearing a song and then figuring out the chords, playing it awhile later. So much fun. I was honored to have it given to me when she died. Now seemed like the right time to get it up here to it's new home. Although I didn't hear my mom play much, when she was alive, she was very talented--not only in classical playing but in singing as well.

In the midst of her illness, I recall her telling me, over the phone, that she had written some lyrics that might possibly be set to music at some point in time. I don't remember reading the words or even knowing the name of the song. And then today, as I was picking up music books, a folded sheet of white paper slipped out onto the floor. It was simply white printer paper, with words on it. I opened it up and at first glance, thought it was a song I might have copied off to learn the chords.

Looking again, I realized the names: there was my mom's, and the composer. This was it, the song she had written, back in 2006. Wow. I'd like to share it the lyrics with you. Someday, maybe I'll be able to attach the actual song onto my FB page--but I still have slow Internet, so not today.

Savior, Redeemer and King
Christa Bender and Sean Keith


My precious Savior, Redeemer and King

I bow before You and gratefully sing

You're my Protector, Sustainer of life

Each breath You give me affirms Your great might


You are my refuge, of whom shall I fear

Though darkness surrounds, me, I know You are near

The cross before me in powerful love

It's comfort flows through me, content from above


I will stand strong regardless of night

You will guide me by Your perfect light

I will hold fast no matter what comes

Savior, Redeemer and King


My Precious Savior, Redeemer and King

I come before You with praises I sing

Oh how I love You, I praise and adore

Your name is all glorious forevermore!

Copyright 2006 Sean Keith/DeepEcho Music/SESAC

Food for Thought

It's May, but you wouldn't know it by the chilly temps and weird weather patterns. Who ordered 35 degrees, the other day? The clouds, hovering over us, have blocked out much needed sunlight and disrupted our steady reliance on children's public television--my kids have become a broken record: "Mommy, the TV is scratching, again!" That's what we call it when the DVD's start pixelating on the big screen. Yes, we've had some better days, but who's complaining?

Then there is my least favorite time of the day: meal times. I have run out of ideas on what my children might refuse to eat, on any given day. Both are very different in their tastes and dislikes, making it hard to come up with choices that work for everyone. I refuse to be a short order cook, however. So this morning, I covered up my daughter's rejected peanut butter sandwich and orange slices, with a big bowl--vowing that she would have to eat it later, if she was, indeed, hungry. And sure enough, a few hours later, she reluctantly ate her sandwich--and then devoured two whole pears, cut in slices.

Yesterday, there was discussion on the color of water bottles and flatware. My son wanted the blue cup with the hammerhead sharks, swirling about. My daughter agreed to switch, since her brother had the orange cup: her favorite color. But then she took it a step further: "Mommy, I want the green fork. See, it matches the stripes on my shirt!" Oh bother...not only do we have to find the perfect food, but we also have to color-coordinate our utensils and dinnerware with our outfits! I hate to admit it, but I understand why McDonald's is just easier than arguing with them.

We are so ready for warm weather and a change of pace. I'm coming off the heels of a cyclical depression, from grief stuff. So glad that I decided to see someone about that, this time around. It has been good for me, and will continue to provide clarity to my situation. In the mean time, I just keep going with my routine, not allowing myself to wallow in the emotions of it all, for too long. I take the time I need, and then keep going. Some days, just crossing errands off my list is all I can do to feel like I accomplished something good, you know?

Aside from that, I keep dreaming. I know there are bigger things out there for me. It's a struggle to sort out the difference between enjoying the life you have from knowing that God has more in store for you. I suppose it depends on how you react to where you're at. Do I covet another person's success or complain about where I'm at? And then there's the fact that a depressed person will have a hard time enjoying much of anything, especially activities that normally do bring joy. This, no doubt, comes out of the grieving process(for me).

I love being a mom to my kids. I'm so thankful that I've had the opportunity to be here, with them, for the majority of their days, thus far. I like cooking. I don't like cooking, for them(LOL).I love writing. I do it for the pure pleasure that it brings, and because I need to do it, to feel alive. I love music. It is the avenue that lead me to God, and it is what I offer back up, to Him, in leading worship. I love the outdoors. I enjoy the creation that is all around us and marvel at the wonders of God's handiwork. I like that I can use plant material, through designs, to make a person's outdoor space, a beautiful one.

These are some of the things I love. I have to remind myself, because sometimes I forget. I'm learning how to love people better(aren't we all). How to better show love to my husband, my family. When I think of the blessings in my life, I don't have much to complain about. I'm thankful for the support I've received to carry me through this sadness. Isn't it amazing that we can always love better when we've spent some time with God? We love Him by taking that time--and then we, in turn, have the energy to love each other well. It's the kind of circulation I want in my life, keeping me from becoming indifferent and stagnant.

At night, when we pray with our kids, the one thing that we ask God for(above all else)is that our kids will love God and follow hard after Him. That they will give Him their hearts and lead a life that would be honoring to Him. We know that if they do this, everything else will fall into place--not a life of perfection or one that is free from trouble, but a life that is "in place".

I can learn something from the very prayers I cover my children with: if I love God, everything else will fall into place. I will hear his voice, discern his will, and have the courage to take some risks, discovering what the next chapter holds in this short life.

I guess maybe I need to trust Him more, like a child trusts their parents to take care of them. Even if kids don't like what is set before them, if they're hungry enough, they will eat--sooner or later. And when we've eaten all "the good stuff" that we're supposed to, there is always dessert: my personal favorite, being dark chocolate.

Reflections

As I'm sitting here, writing, it has occurred to me that its been about a year since I began this blog journey. I want to thank all of you who have supported me along the way. Thank you for taking the time to read some very real thoughts, regarding losses in my life. Thank you for your kind words and encouragement. It means a lot to me!

Going forward, I want to shift my focus toward more present day circumstances, and also toward the future. Our past is what it is. I feel that I've done the best that I could to present that in a way that would be honoring, and not overtly negative or 'a downer'. But now its time to move ahead. For those who are new to my story, here is a quick recap of where I've been and where I am now:

Last spring brought me through a season of depression that began in April, lasting until the end of June. I didn't see it coming. It started out with physical manifestations of anxiety: tightness in the chest, the feeling that something big was coming...but what it was, I didn't know, at the time. I began to realize the time of year that it was and the important dates that were coming: my son's birthday, Mother's Day, my daughter's birthday, then mom's anniversary. It began to make sense. I wasn't developing asthma,(which is how it felt most of the time), I was grieving, again.

Long story short, there was nothing seriously wrong with me, in medical terms. My body was trying to process these emotions out. It's rather strange when this happens without being consciously aware of it. These symptoms were present, and I wasn't thinking much about anything stressful, let alone my mom and her passing. But our minds and bodies are connected in such a way that everything works together. If I wasn't yet ready to deal with it mentally, I guess my body would find another way to get rid of the sadness.

When I look back on all that has happened, I am so glad that I was on 'emotional Novocaine' at the time. I'm trying to get my head around the scenario: my mom is diagnosed with cancer, shortly before I carried my son. She is still recovering, when he is born. Then it appears that she will make it, when he is about 5 months old...only to have a relapse and more cancer, 1 month later. She goes through intense treatments, radiation therapy, her body trying desperately to hold up under the pressures. Meanwhile, life continues to go on. I eventually carry my daughter, only to find out days before her delivery that my mom is terminally ill. There was nothing more, short of a miracle, that could be done. She meets our second child, and then passes away when my daughter was 4 weeks old, my son age two. What a whirlwind it was, and has been.

There was no way, physically speaking, that I could grieve what had happened until recently. My deliveries were both C-sections, my kids 2 years apart. You can imagine how much I needed my mom to be there for me...how much I had wanted her to be more connected to me, years before this season of parenthood began. Not that I didn't have support elsewhere, with amazing family and friends, but there is something about a mother and daughter that is special. I was so looking forward to redeeming that time, for us, with my own children coming into the world. But it was not meant to be. I may not know, until eternity, the answer to the question: why? But I trust the sovereignty of God in matters like these. I want to know God better, not run away further. So I choose to live, no matter how hard it can be at times.

I started this blog as a means to process out my emotions, my thoughts about what I was going through. It has served me well in that regard. The beauty of having this outlet is the transparency it lends to the lives of other people, who may very well find themselves in a similar situation. It is my hope that the pain our lives bring may not be wasted, but recycled into something beautiful...and useful.

Today, I am in another season of grief. I have experienced the physical affects, once again, although they are somewhat different this time around. I cry easily when watching sad movies--yes, even kids' movies! I've had 'heart flutters', tightness in the chest, and the general malaise that is associated with feeling depressed: kind of like you're walking around in fog, not able to think clearly or enjoy life.

It is not much fun. But what is different this time is I'm doing something about it. I've decided to start therapy(*applause*). I had my first session this week and to my surprise, I cried a lot. I guess that's what you do when you go to a session! No, but seriously, I'm glad to be moving in this direction. I'm keeping an open mind to the options I have for getting better. My goal is to have happy memories of my mom, and be present as the best mom I can be...the best woman that God has created me to be. I need to do that for my family, and for myself. I don't want to miss out on living life to its fullest. A friend once said, 'Choose to be better, not bitter.' So true.

Again, thank you, readers and listeners! May you live each day, reflecting the love that has been given to you. Mom, if you are listening, I love you and look forward to seeing you again someday.