6 months

Half a year. It doesn't seem possible for my time with him to be so far away on the calendar. Soon we'll turn the page to a new year, leaving him behind in 2011. Part of me is ready to start a new year, hopeful that it won't be so hard as this one has been. But, the other part of me is sad to move on into a year in which he never lived. For Tim and me, 2011 was defined by Ellis. I remember pondering that during New Year's Eve last year. I thought to myself, "This is the year my baby will be born. 2011 will always be important to us." I had no idea that it would also be the year my baby would die.

6 months later I still struggle with the idea that all of this was unfair. I see God's blessings and grace and know that those too are unfair, but the unfairness of losing Ellis does not sit well in my heart. I don't always feel this way, but it would be dishonest to say that I never felt this way. I'm working on it. I'm learning to trust that His way is truly good and that the plans I concoct for myself are not promised and may not even be good. It's a difficult road to navigate when what you desire seems to be a good thing. Seeing Ellis healed here on Earth, didn't seem like a bad idea. And yet, God in his infinite goodness chose to do otherwise.

I spoke with another grieving mother on Christmas Eve and she shared wonderful insight and words of love with me. She reminded me that we have a choice when we suffer and that licking our wounds, dwelling in the dark, is not going to bring about healing. The little baby born in the manger should cause those of us who suffer to celebrate more than the rest this Christmas. I have to admit, my heart did not feel very celebratory over the weekend, but knowing that my baby boy is rejoicing in Heaven this holiday season reminds me that I should be rejoicing with him. He sees it from a different perspective than I do, but we celebrate the birth of the same Savior. And without that Savior, there would be no reason to rejoice.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, as well.

With love,
Rebecca

a Savior born

Advent.  Expectant waiting.

Christmas. The birth of a long expected Messiah-- a gift of mercy and grace.

This year I approach Advent and Christmas with a different heart, one that feels a bit battle worn. Nothing feels quite the same anymore, even Christmas.  I love this time of year and I want to enjoy it like I have in years past. But, I don’t know if that’s possible. I think it will always feel different, even when this time of intense grieving is over. I view the world and most experiences through a different lens now. I know it won’t always be so hard, but as with many other things, this time of year is now more complicated.

This year I’m not just waiting for the Christ child to be born. I’m waiting for His redemptive work to bring healing, restoration, and peace. I’m waiting for His mighty hand to shift frustrating circumstances. I’m waiting for the day when the pain of this life will be behind us and the joy of eternity with Him will be in front of us. I’ve never been so thankful for that little baby born in a stable. The day He was born was the beginning of a wonderful story. It brought powerful meaning to my own story and to my baby boy’s story.

When we think about Christmas, our hearts become warm and we romanticize the events of Christ’s coming. Yet this year, I’m struck by the idea that His coming to Earth as a baby , the years that followed, the anticipation of giving up His life for the sake of ours, and His actual death on the cross were evidence of His surrender to the will of God for the sake of our redemption. We think about Christmas and we imagine the wonder of God becoming man, coming to Earth as a baby, the Savior born! And yes, it is a story filled with goodness and joy, but it is also a story of great sacrifice…for Jesus, His heavenly Father, and His earthly parents.  They each gave something that was not easy to give.

Jesus—He gave up His heavenly home, forsaking His equality with God

God the Father – He gave His only Son to live as a human and eventually die an unfair death

Joseph & Mary – they gave up a normal life, one that fit their plan, and a clean reputation

The first Christmas was most definitely filled with grace, wonder, and beauty, but I also believe it was messy and hard.  I’m thankful that God in his infinite goodness chose to send his Son for us. What love, what grace, what sacrifice. It’s the giving up of so much that makes it beautiful. I suppose that’s why we love Christmas so much…an immeasurable gift was given. Something we simply did not deserve and suddenly it was ours. This Christmas the pain of loss is real in my own heart, but I hope that is going to allow me to better understand the sacrifices so integral to this story.

I hope and pray that the wonder of this season fills your home with joy, peace, and love. It’s the prayer I’m praying for our home as well. Merry Christmas, friends.

With love,

Rebecca

Luke 1:46b-47

My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.

Abundance

The holidays are tricky for those who grieve. The sense of loss refreshes in our minds. During a time when the focus is on time spent with family, you can't help but realize family photos will feel incomplete and not every stocking needs to be filled. But as we step closer to Thanksgiving, I'm working hard to remember that which I am thankful for. There's quite a bit, really. Tim and I are truly blessed people.

Family. Home. Church. Marriage. Friends. Income. Freedom. Faith. And above all, we are saved by grace.

Today, I'm remembering to say, "Thank you" to the Giver. He gives abundantly.