14 Things I Wish I'd Known Five Years Ago

Today marks five years since Hannah drew her last earthly breath and stepped into the arms of Jesus.

I have to be honest and say that my immediate reaction at that moment was relief that she was no longer suffering from cancer.  But that relief was quickly swallowed up by grief ... overwhelming, nearly debilitating sorrow at the loss of my precious daughter.

In those raw early days of grief, I remember looking at other people who had lost children several years previously and wondering how on earth those people had made it.  I could not fathom making it through five weeks, much less five years.

And yet, here I am.

It still doesn't seem possible.

I am not the same person I was 1,826 days ago, nor will I ever be that person again.  And that's not all bad ... in fact, that's probably a really good thing.

God has done a lot of work in my life over the last five years ... work that needed to be done.  And, oh my, He's got a lot more to do.  But, if you'll bear with me, I'd like to share a few of the things I've learned over the last five years ... Things I wish I'd known from the beginning.

1.  The loss of a child is indescribably difficult.  It impacts every fiber of your being, and shakes you to your very core.  There are times (even now) when it seems unsurvivable.  BUT ... but ... it does, it really does, get better.  There are those who will tell you that it never gets better.  Do not believe them.  However, we must earnestly desire to get better, and actively take steps to make that happen.  We are not given a choice about having grief, but we do have a choice in how we grieve.

2.  Much of the battle on this journey is spiritual.  Actually, "much" may be the wrong word ... "all" is probably closer to the truth.  At the time when we are the most vulnerable, Satan is absolutely relentless.  He bashes us in the head again and again with "if onlys" and "what ifs".  He fills our minds with memories of horrific sights, sounds, and smells.  He causes us to question God's goodness and mercy.  For me, the best way to fight this battle is to recognize it for what it is ... spiritual warfare.  Whenever I get really down, it is always because I've allowed Satan to get a foothold in my mind.

3.  This is not a competition.  In those early days, I spent a lot of time wondering which was "worse" ... losing a child suddenly and not being able to say good-bye, or having the opportunity to say good-bye but being forced to watch your child suffer in horrific ways.  I wondered if it was "easier" if the child you lost was an infant, or maybe it was "easier" if he or she was an adult when they went to Heaven.  I wondered how my grief stacked against with that of others.  I've learned that it does not matter.  After talking to hundreds of bereaved parents over the past five years, I've found that even though our losses are all different, our pain is the same.  The loss of a child is heartrending, no matter the child's age or the circumstances of his or her death.

4.  There is no time limit on grief.  I used to be so ignorant.  I actually used to think people "got over" the death of a loved one within a couple of months ... a year at the very most.  I now know that one does not "get over" the death of a child ... they just learn how to live without them.  I will be "over" the loss of my child when I put my arms around her neck in Heaven.

5.  Pain is not wasted in God's economy.  God can take our pain and bring good from it.  I've learned that one of the best ways to ease my pain is to stop focusing inward and begin looking for ways to serve Him and others.  It could be something "big", like starting a ministry or a foundation in your child's memory ... or it could be something "smaller."  One sweet mom I know watches the obituaries for parents who lose children close to her son's age when he died, and writes them encouraging notes.  Believe me, this is not a "small" thing to those who receive these gifts of love from her.

6.  There is a difference between happiness and joy.  Happiness is dependent upon circumstances, and since the day Hannah was diagnosed with cancer just over six years ago, my circumstances have not been what I have wanted them to be.  Absolutely everything I do is tinged with sorrow to some degree, whether it's just going to work each day, celebrating a family birthday, or planning my younger daughter's wedding.  Hannah is not here, and that means there is sadness in my heart all the time.  But, I can still have joy in my life, because that is not dependent upon my circumstances.  Joy is unassailable, because it comes from my relationship with God.  Joy is that deep-down, rugged knowledge that God will one day make all things right, even a 17-year-old girl dying of cancer.

7.  I don't have to be strong all the time ... In fact, my greatest strength lies in weakness.  I am not strong enough to do this on my own.  I must allow myself to be weak and lean fully on Him.  That is the only way to walk this road.  2 Corinthians 2:9 -- "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."  As my dear friend Donna says, God tells us, "I want you to be strong, but you don't have to be stronger than me."

8.  C. S. Lewis once said, "No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear."  In the early days of my grief, I felt very cavalier.  The thing I had feared most in life had happened ... What else was there to be afraid of?  As time has passed, I've begun to experience more fear.  I've met parents who have lost two, three, even four children.  If it happened to me once, why couldn't it happen again?  This fear could easily become paralyzing, even debilitating.  But, I've learned that I must give that fear to God, and put my loved ones in His hand.  I want to love having them more than I fear losing them.

9.  I have to remember that I am living in the temporary.  This world that seems so real to us now will dissolve in a moment someday.  I love these lines from the last book in the Narnia series, "The Last Battle" by C. S. Lewis,  "‘There was a real railway accident,’ said Aslan softly. ‘Your father and mother and all of you are – as you used to call it in the Shadowlands – dead. The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is over: this is the morning.’"  When this life in the Shadowlands (but a dream) is over, the holidays will truly begin!

10.  I also have to remember this ... My future with my daughter is going to be so much greater than my past with her.  What an amazing thought.

11.  I cannot put a question mark where God has put a period.  God put a period at the end of Hannah's earthly life on February 26, 2009.  I can question His wisdom in that all I want to (and believe me, I have) but the period is still there.  I cannot change that; and I don't believe He wants me to waste the life He has given me in arguing with Him.  The period has not yet been placed at the end of my earthly life, and there are so much better things I can be doing with my energy and my time.  God still has work for me to do here.

12.  Everyone says stupid things to people who have lost children ... even other people who have lost children (I know I've said dumb things myself)!  I can choose to replay the hurtful things people have said over and over in my mind -- along with the snarky comebacks I wish I'd hit them with -- or I can choose to extend grace to those folks and move forward.  There is only one perfect Comforter ... the rest of us fall far short.

13.  God is sovereign.  God knew the number of Hannah's days before she was born (Psalm 139:16).  There is not a thing we could have done to extend her life by even a single day.  It does no good to question whether we should have gone to a different hospital or tried a different treatment.  She lived exactly the number of days God had ordained for her.

14.  Finally, I've learned that a short life is not an incomplete life.  I've talked to parents whose child never took a breath outside of the womb whose lives have been changed for eternity by that brief life.  Hannah's life may have been short, but it was definitely not incomplete.  In the early months following her death, we heard quite often from people whose lives had been touched by hers ... even a number of salvations directly due to her testimony.  As time has gone on, we've heard those kinds of reports less and less.  But may I share something with you?  A little less than a month ago, out of the blue, we received an email from an old high school friend of my husband's.  Brad had not heard from this friend in years; in fact, we did not even know he had followed Hannah's story.  Here's what he wrote in his email:

Brad,

Just a quick note to tell you what a blessing your journey has been to me, my patients and students that rotate through my facility. I made copies of every email you sent out over the years of Hannah's battle and kept them in a bound folder. [The emails he's referring to are available on this blog. Look in the right hand column and click on "Hannah's Story in Emails."]

Each night as the emails came I would read them to my daughter and son and we as a family would pray for Hannah and your family. I will never forget the day in Feb that I sat down and shared the email that Hannah had lost her battle with this disease. We all cried because of your transparency allowed us to be vested in your journey.

Even today I make all our nursing, x-ray, and oncology students to read the collection of emails at the start of their clinical rotation and it helps remind them we are not treating diseases...we are treating beautiful people like Hannah.

 My continued prayers for you guys. God bless and thank you for allowing others to see the beauty that continues to be Hannah's legacy. 

Ah ... to know that my daughter is remembered, and that her life is still having an impact on others ... there is no greater gift that can be given to a parent who's lost a child.


Five years.  It's a long time.  But it's five years closer to Home ... and that's just fine with me.  Even so, come Lord Jesus.

Tell About It Tuesday -- A Unique Opportunity for Bereaved Dads

While We're Waiting offers three types of retreats for bereaved parents ... a weekend-long retreat for singles/couples, one day mini-retreats for Moms, and weekend-long retreats just for Dads.  

Since WWW began in early 2011, we've hosted six parents' weekends and 14 (I think) mini-retreats for Moms ... but only three weekends for Dads.  We've found that Dads are just a little bit more hesitant to commit to something like this.  I don't know ... maybe they think it's going to be a "spill your guts" kind of thing all weekend long.  No man wants to do that ... and I don't think too many women do either.  

No, when the guys get together, they spend time doing guy stuff ... riding four wheelers, fishing, grilling steaks, etc.  Sure, they talk about their kids and their experiences along the road of grief, and for many of them, this is something they've really never had an opportunity to do with another man, especially a man who actually understands.

Our Dads' weekends are usually held at my husband's family's farm in a very rural area of Yell County, Arkansas.  The guys stay in an older farmhouse with several bedrooms, where they have the run of hundreds of acres of fields and forest land.  They always have a great time, but the accommodations, while nice, are nothing fancy.  You can click here and here to read about the last two Dads' weekends which were held there.  

Here's where the unique opportunity part comes in.  While We're Waiting has been offered the use of the Spring Valley Anglers Rod & Gun Club Lodge for one of our Dads' weekends in March.  This facility is located in Siloam Springs, Arkansas.  This place is amazing ... click here to take a look at their website.  We are so excited to have the opportunity to host an event for Dads here.  And with the location in northwest Arkansas, it's more easily accessible to more people.  It's even close to an airport, in case anyone would need to fly in for the weekend.

The weekend is scheduled for March 14-16, 2014.  The guys never have a set starting time on Friday evening, because everyone gets off work at different times, but they will gather Friday evening, and will wrap up the weekend on Sunday morning.  Guys, if you've thought about coming to a Dads' weekend in the past, but just haven't done it ... here's your chance.  And ladies, if your husband needs to come to something like this ... use your feminine wiles to get him there.  I can promise that every Dad who comes will be glad he did.  

There's no cost for the weekend.  Of course, we always accept donations if anyone would like to give something to support the ministry, but it is not necessary.  To register, just click on the "Register for a While We're Waiting" tab above.  Spots are limited, so don't delay.  It's going to be a great weekend.  I leave you with what one of our dads said after the last Dads' weekend ...

 "I want to thank you for this weekend.  I know so much more will come to me as I process these moments over the next couple of weeks, months, and years to come.  But, these are the immediate take-aways that I will leave with today:  1) I'm not alone in this walk, 2) the opportunity to bring my son alive in the open discussions and just saying his name aloud again, and 3) ways to move forward in my life but, more importantly, my faith. Thanks again and God bless you."

Thoughtful Thursday -- Don't Be a Knothead

The blog has been quiet for awhile, hasn't it?  To be perfectly honest, I've just been kind of "dry" lately.  I'm not really sure why.  Maybe because I've been very, very busy lately.  (I thought life was going to slow down when Bethany went to college ... I'm still waiting for that to happen.)  Maybe because I've found myself consumed by all of the sorrow I've been seeing on Facebook lately.  There are just too many children (and adults) with cancer.  

Last night was our While We're Waiting support group meeting, and I needed a devotional to share.  Like I said, I've been dry lately, and I just didn't know what to share with the group.  So yesterday morning, I sat down at the computer, and God finally brought to my mind what I needed to share ... and as always, it's something I myself needed to hear.

We spent the evening talking about "ruminating."

There are basically two kinds of ruminating.  I've got a visual aid to illustrate one of the meanings ... 

Meet Knothead.

Knothead is a resident of the petting zoo at Family Farm, where we hold our While We're Waiting Retreats for Bereaved Parents.  He spends his days lying around and ruminating ... which the dictionary says means "to bring up and chew again what has already been chewed and swallowed."  Pretty disgusting, right?

But there's another kind of ruminating ... something that I find myself doing a lot.

According to Wikipedia, rumination is defined as "the compulsively focused attention on the symptoms of one's distress, and on its possible causes and consequences, as opposed to its solutions.  Rumination is similar to worry, except rumination focuses on bad feelings and experiences from the past, whereas worry is concerned with potential bad events in the future.

Maybe you’re like me , and you find yourself reliving the last moments of your child’s life over and over.  Or maybe you weren’t with him or her when she died, and you find yourself going through the circumstances that led to the death again and again, trying to somehow create a different outcome.  Maybe you’ve been beating yourself up over the “If only’s”. 

Basically, it’s not that different from what Knothead spends his day doing.  You’re heaving that stuff back up and chewing it again and again.  Gross, but true.

Your relationship with your spouse and surviving children has been affected, your performance at work or at home is not what it should be, and your relationship with God is really suffering.  You can’t sleep, because every time you close your eyes, the rumination begins again. Or for me, it's often when I'm driving alone in the car.

Satan loves it when we ruminate.  It keeps us frozen where we are.  It keeps us from moving forward in our lives and serving God effectively.

So how do we stop ruminating?

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just flip a switch and shut it off?  Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way.

It takes time, and it takes supernatural healing from God.  It takes an honest and earnest desire to move forward in our lives.  We must pray and read God’s word, even when we don’t feel like it.  We must ask Him to replace our ruminations on those awful thoughts with the truth of His Word. 

Philippians 4:6-8 says, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things.” 

Easier said than done, certainly, but so important.  I believe that God will honor even our most feeble efforts to obey His Word, and give us His peace over time. 

Then we’ll be ready to move forward in His service while we’re waiting to be reunited with our children one day. 

So what's the bottom line?

Don't be a Knothead.  :-)

Ten on the Tenth -- New Year's Resolutions for Bereaved Parents

I've never really been much of a New Year's resolution person.  No particular reason ... I'm just not.

But for 2014, I'm thinking about making some.  The fact that it's already the tenth day of the year should indicate the fact that I've really spent some time thinking about these things.  And I believe that these are resolutions that all those of us who have children in Heaven might want to consider adopting as our own.

In just over a month from now, Hannah will have been in Heaven for five years.  It doesn't seem possible, but it's true.  And God has been faithful to gently carry our family through many painful days and months since that time.  These have been the most difficult five years of my life, but He has used them to teach me things that I don't think I could have learned any other way.

So, in light of that, I present ten New Year's Resolutions for Bereaved Parents:

1.  I resolve to ... Look forward to the future and not spend time agonizing over the "If Onlys".  These things are in the past, they cannot be changed, and it is a waste of my time and energy to be consumed by them.  These thoughts draw me away from doing the things God wants me to be doing today.  And I believe that it dishonors both my child and my Lord when I remain stuck in the past and refuse to move forward.

2.  I resolve to ... Extend grace to those who inadvertently add to my pain by making well-meaning, but inappropriate comments.  And I refuse to replay those hurtful words over and over in my mind, thinking about all the things I could have, should have said, that would have put them in their place.  I will remember that I, too, have said unintentionally hurtful things in my own clumsy attempts to comfort others.

3.  I resolve to ... Extend grace to those who avoid me, or who are clearly uncomfortable talking to me about my child.  They're just afraid.  They don't want to add to my pain, so it's easier just to steer clear of me.  I will remember that I have been that person, too.

4.  I resolve to ... Help others understand what I need from them.  If I need to talk about my child, I'll explain to them that it helps me to talk about her, even if it does make me cry.  If I need to be alone for awhile, I'll ask them to respect my solitude.  If I just don't have the energy for chit-chat and smiles, I'll explain to them why.  If I need to celebrate holidays in a different way, I'll discuss it with them ahead of time.  If I don't know what I need (which happens a lot!), I'll even tell them that.

 5.   I resolve to ... Be patient with myself.  Grief takes time ... much more time than I ever realized before.  I will give myself all the time I need, and not try to rush it (even though others may try to rush me along).  I will be gentle and kind to myself and the fellow grievers in my household.

6.  I resolve to ... Find some joy in every day.  There's a difference between happiness and joy.  Happiness is dependent upon circumstances, and happiness can be pretty scarce sometimes.  But joy is God-given, and it is possible to still have joy even in the worst of circumstances.  And it doesn't have to come from big things.  It can be found in little things ... dew on a spiderweb, the sight of your favorite pet greeting you at your doorway, the sparkle of sunshine on the water, the feeling of pulling on a pair of new warm socks on a cold day.  I resolve to look for and appreciate those things.

7.  I resolve to ... Be grateful for the 17 1/2 years I had with Hannah.  I would rather have had her and lost her than to never have had her in my life at all.  And when I consider the fact that I haven't really "lost" her, but in fact, I will spend eternity with her ... the gratitude just overflows.

8.  I resolve to ... Recognize and rebuff the attacks of Satan.  He knows that I'm vulnerable right now, and he would like nothing more than to destroy my witness and to tear my family apart.  He wants me to believe his lies -- that I'm somehow responsible for my child's death; that God is punishing me for some sin; that if only I had had more faith or if I had prayed more, my child would still be here today.  I refuse to allow Satan to have a foothold in my life.

9.  I resolve to ... Depend upon what I know to be true about God, and not on what my feelings are telling me.  So much of the time, my feelings and emotions are completely out of control and unpredictable.  I can laugh and cry and be angry and happy all at the same time.  I can be fine one minute, and sobbing the next.  And I may not even know what triggered the meltdown.  My feelings will lie to me (See #8), but God's Word always tells me the truth.  To keep this resolution, I must spend time with Him, and be intentional in prayer and Bible study.

10.  I resolve to ... Remember that I can do none of these things on my own.  I have no power within myself to keep even one of these resolutions.  It helps to talk to other moms and dads who understand what it's like to miss your child so desperately.  It's great to know that I'm not alone in this thing ..
. that I'm not the only one who struggles with these things.  But even more than having the support of other bereaved parents, it is critical that I lean on my Heavenly Father for strength.  Because it is only in Him that I can find the strength to keep these resolutions.

"And He has said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.' Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong."  II Corinthians 12: 9-11 (NASB)

A Future Greater Than the Past

I remember how I felt that first New Year's Days after Hannah went to Heaven.

To be perfectly honest ... it was awful.

While part of me was relieved to slam the door on 2009, and all the pain and grief it contained, the thought of living through an entire 365 days without Hannah was mind-boggling.  I could not imagine how I was going to survive even that first day of January, much less a whole year.  And as I considered the fact that that year would be followed by another year, and then another, and another ... It was almost more than I could handle.

In fact, it was more than I could handle alone.  It's only been by God's help that I've survived 2010, 2011, 2012, and now 2013. And it is only through His strength that I can look forward with joyful anticipation to 2014.

A few days ago, I posted an excerpt from a devotional by Max Lucado on our While We're Waiting Facebook page.  This post was far and away the most "liked" comment we've ever had on that page.  Here is part of what I posted ...

In May of 2008, Steven Curtis Chapman and his wife, Mary Beth lost their five-year-old daughter in an automobile accident.  They were deluged by messages of kindness.  One in particular gave Steven strength.   It was from a pastor friend who’d lost his son in an auto accident. “Remember, your future with your daughter will be greater than your past with her.”

For me, personally, that may be the single most comforting thing I've read in the past five years.  What a great reminder of what I (and what all of us who know Jesus Christ as our Savior) have to look forward to!

And in the meantime, while we're waiting for that future, it helps to remember the words of Lamentations 3:22-23 ...  "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness."

His compassion will not fail us ... We will not be consumed ... His mercies are new every morning ... and His faithfulness is great.

Thoughtful Thursday -- A Christmas Contrast

Christmas 2008 was a really difficult Christmas for us.  Three months prior, our daughter Hannah's cancer had returned with a vengeance, with multiple tumors on her brainstem and up and down her spine.  Her oncologist had told us, with tears in his eyes, that she had less than a five percent chance of survival, but we were still in the battle, going into the clinic for platelet infusions both the day before and the day after Christmas.

Hannah was a good sport about it all, never complaining about a thing ... and she really seemed to be feeling pretty good that Christmas.  We could see the signs, though, subtle at first, and then accelerating rapidly, that she would be leaving us soon.

That Christmas was so surreal.  She was here with us, yet we knew (without a miraculous intervention from God) that she would be leaving us soon.  And we knew that Christmas would never been the same.  Yet, for our girls' sake, we had to carry on as if everything was just fine.  The only word I can think of to describe that day is agonizing.  There was such a feeling of hopelessness pervading the entire day.

Fast forward five years to Christmas 2013.  Instead of my two girls helping me decorate the tree, these two did the job all by themselves this year.  Notice the JOY all over our tree (and all over their faces)!

This Christmas, too, had a touch of the surreal to it.  Because this year, we knew that Bethany would be leaving us soon.  Ah, but it's different ... In just under five months, her dad will be walking her down an aisle, and she'll be saying her vows and changing her name.  And once again, our family Christmas will never be the same.  

But this time, there was no hopelessness, no despair, no dread of what was to come.  Instead there was excitement and joyful anticipation of the future.  

And when I really stop and think about it ... should the two Christmases really have been so different? Yes ... one is clearly very painful, and one is not.  And yet ... No.  

Both Hannah and Bethany had/have much to look forward to.  Bethany has a wedding and marriage to look forward to, and all that goes along with that.  But Hannah ... she had Heaven to look forward to! And a godly marriage, as wonderful as that is, pales in comparison to Heaven.

And the cool thing about all of this is that (because of God's gift at Christmas) one day our family will be reunited in Heaven at the marriage supper of the Lamb. Thank God, there will be no empty chairs around our family table that day.  And that will be better than any Christmas dinner we can imagine!

"Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out, 'Hallelujah!  For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns.  Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure' -- for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.  And the angel said to me, 'Write this:  Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.' And he said to me, 'These are the true words of God.'"  Revelation 19:6-9

Monday Mourning -- It's Not MY Birthday Anyway

When I was a little girl, Christmas was my absolute favorite holiday.  We would always travel from our home in northern Wisconsin to visit my relatives in Illinois, and I would have the best time playing with all my cousins.  Of course, the best part of Christmas was when we got to open our presents ... I was always so excited to get a bunch of new toys to play with! 

Except for that one Christmas ... when I was sorely disappointed.  I had asked for a Fisher Price farm set.  You remember the one ... it had a silo, a hay loft, a fence, all these neat little animals ... and best of all, it made a mooing sound when you opened and closed the barn doors!  I'm sure I got some really awesome gifts that year, but the only thing I can remember is that this farm set was not one of them.

And to make it worse, my cousin did get one!  And this particular cousin actually lived on a farm, and she even had horses!  I mean, how unfair was that??  I was soooooo disappointed, and I let everyone know.  I'm pretty sure I received a hearty lecture about my lack of gratitude ... and deservedly so.

This past weekend we celebrated Christmas with the Sullivan family in Van Buren.  Yesterday morning we went to church with them, and enjoyed a great sermon from my in-laws' pastor.  He opened his message by sharing an illustration which really caught my attention.

It seems there was a little boy attending a church Christmas party.  Each child who came to the party stood in line to receive a present, and this little guy was at the very end of the line.  He patiently awaited his turn, but just as he got to the front of the line, they ran out of presents.  The pastor felt terrible about this and apologized profusely, but the little boy smilingly said, "That's okay.  It's not MY birthday anyway."

It's not MY birthday anyway.

Wow, did I need that reminder.  

When I'm feeling second-rate because my house is not Pinterest perfect ... It's not MY birthday anyway.

When I'm frustrated because I haven't had the time or energy to get my Christmas cards done ... It's not MY birthday anyway.

When I'm aggravated by the rudeness of the crowds in the stores ... It's not MY birthday anyway.

When I'm disappointed and sad that our family Christmas is not what it once was ... It's not MY birthday anyway.

When everyone else seems to have what I want so desperately for myself ... It's not MY birthday anyway.

And most of all, when I want to kick and scream and rant about how unfair it is that Hannah is not here to celebrate with us ... (Sigh) ... It's not MY birthday anyway.

No, it's not MY birthday ... it's HIS.  

Because it is HIS birthday, all of these things that are so hard, painful, sad, disappointing, frustrating, aggravating, and unfair today will one day be redeemed.  

Because it is HIS birthday, Hannah is more alive today than she has ever been.

And because it is HIS birthday, I will see my girl again, and not just see her again, but spend eternity with her.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved."  John 3:16-17

Thoughtful Thursday -- Birthday Reflections

Birthdays sure are different than they used to be.

Even just a few years back, I could go through an entire birthday without anyone even knowing it was my birthday.  Oh sure, my mom and dad knew, and my husband and kids knew ... but that was about it.  And I was fine with that.  I could go to work or church or wherever, and as far as anyone else was concerned, it was just another day.

With the way technology keeps us all connected now ... those days are over.

The birthday messages actually started on Facebook yesterday.  My brother, who lives in Indonesia where my birthday arrives 13 hours earlier than it does here, posted a Happy Birthday message on my wall, and the flood of greetings began.  Nothing makes you feel loved like 180+ people wishing you a happy birthday online.

Over the past few days, I've received a handful of birthday cards from family members and sweet friends, and I was greeted with a couple of e-cards from my nieces in Indonesia this morning.  Today, my phone was continually sending me text message alerts.  Really made my day.

And then there were the greetings some not-so-expected sources ... my dentist's office, the American Red Cross, Stage Department Stores, the University of Arkansas Alumni Association, the Arkansas Blood Institute, and even the Arkansas Speech-Language Hearing Association.  Sure makes a girl feel special.

I remember my first couple of birthdays after Hannah went to Heaven.  Honestly, every "Happy Birthday" wish at that time felt like a sucker punch to the gut. How could anybody expect me to have a happy birthday (or Mother's Day, or Easter, or New Year, or Christmas) when my child was gone?!  What were these people thinking ... ordering me to have a happy birthday?  Didn't they know that was impossible?  That I would probably never have a truly happy birthday again?  It really made me want to karate chop somebody in the neck, to borrow one of Bethany's favorite sayings.

I'm so glad that feeling hasn't lasted.  That was a miserable way to be.  Over time, God has brought healing.  I no longer spend my birthdays mourning what I've lost ... instead, I find myself in awe of what I've gained:

• A deeper faith than I've ever had before
• An appreciation for the "little things" in life (which are actually the big things)
• An eternal perspective
• A God-given compassion for hurting people
• A fresh excitement about the future
• A new group of life-long friends (all of whom have children in Heaven)
• A grown daughter who makes me very proud
• A soon to be son-in-law who we are thrilled to welcome into the family
• The privilege of being a part of the While We're Waiting ministry

Am I still sad that Hannah is not here to share this day with me?  Of course.  There will always be a sadness in my heart ... at least until the day I see her again.  But that doesn't mean that I can't also have joy.  In fact, I think it's amazing that God created us with the capacity for both great sadness and great joy ... and we can even experience both at the same time.  Only He could do that, and I'm so glad He did.  

So tonight, I'm five birthdays closer to seeing Hannah again than I was when she left.  And that's the best birthday gift of the day.

Ten on the Tenth -- Five Things that Don't Comfort, and Five Things that Do

One part of the While We're Waiting ministry is a Facebook page which is dedicated to discussions about issues that bereaved parents deal with on a day-to-day basis.  It is a truly vibrant group of moms and dads, all of whom have children in Heaven, and all of whom are seeking to live well while they're waiting to be reunited with them one day.  It's a closed group, limited to just parents who have lost children, along with a very few others who are close friends of the While We're Waiting ministry, so it's a safe place to discuss things that others may not understand.

This past weekend, one of the moms on the page, Kimberly Hughes, whose son Drew went to Heaven this past July, posted a list that drew a number of comments from those on the page.  It appears that her list resonates with most, if not all of us, who have children in Heaven.  So, with her permission, I'm presenting her list to you as this month's Ten on the Tenth ...

Top 5 Things People Say That DON'T Comfort me:

5. "Everything happens for a reason"

4. "I know how you feel, I lost my grandmother, etc" Unless you have lost a child, you really don't know how I feel and that's a good thing- be thankful.

3. "At least you have two other sons"

2. "You are so strong. If I lost my child, I'd..." and you can fill in the rest. It makes me feel like you are implying your love for your child is stronger than mine. There is nobody anywhere in the world who loves their children MORE than I love mine- just FYI.

1. By far the worst one for me is "I've lost a child, too, and believe me it never gets better. People will say it does, but it doesn't." This I think is the worst. I think it implies I shouldn't have hope and it is a LIE. I AM better than I was when I couldn't breathe, didn't want to get out of bed and was completely numb and there IS hope for joy in my life again.

Top 5 Things People Say That DO Comfort Me

5. Any wonderful memories of Drew Hughes, especially stories of when he made others laugh or smile. That was his gift and I want his memory to be shared and kept alive.

4. "I think about and pray for you and your family often."

3. Lots of scripture including Corinthians 13:4-8, Psalm 34:18 and Isaiah 41:10

2. "God loves you and He is good. Trust that He will carry you through this."

1. "Drew is safe and secure and you will see and be with him again one day."


I think Kimberly hit the nail right on the head with her list, and I appreciate her willingness to let me share it with you.  I've posted similar types of lists before, but I think she has a unique perspective, especially since she is still in the early months of her grief journey.

As you think of families you know who have lost children during this Christmas season, please take a moment and lift them up before the Heavenly Father.  No matter how long it's been since someone's child went to Heaven, it's still a really tough time of the year.  Memories of Christmases past, gifts un-bought, watching intact families merrily enjoying the season, an empty chair at the Christmas dinner table ... the presence of that child's absence is enormous, and can be overwhelming.  The best gift you can give them is to let them know that you do remember their child, and that you are praying for them.  They will appreciate that more than they can ever say.

Tell About It Tuesday -- "Giving Tuesday"

So, we've survived Black Friday (no, I didn't take part in the madness!), Small Business Saturday, and Cyber Monday (which I enthusiastically participated in) and now it's time for Giving Tuesday.

I don't know who came up with this "Giving Tuesday" idea, but I kind of like it.  It's the perfect opportunity to update you about the While We're Waiting ministry and tell you how you can help support it.

If you're new to the blog, you're probably not familiar with While We're Waiting.  WWW is a nonprofit ministry to bereaved parents, co-founded by my husband and me and our good friends, Larry and Janice Brown.  My husband and I lost our 17-year-old daughter, Hannah, to cancer in February of 2009, and the Browns lost their 34-year-old son, Adam, in action in Afghanistan in March of 2010.

Early on in our grief journey, we found that nothing was more helpful to us in the healing process than spending time with other Christian couples who had lost children.  One Sunday after church, we had lunch with the Browns, and we discovered that we had a similar desire to help bring families who had lost children together.  Three hours later, we left that booth in Cotija's Mexican Restaurant with a God-given dream of a ministry in which we would host retreats for bereaved parents.  By the time we left the restaurant that day, we already had a location planned, dates picked out, and a name for this fledgling ministry.

Since that day in late 2010 ...

...We've hosted six weekend-long retreats for parents

...We've hosted three weekend-long retreats for Dads

...We've hosted eleven one-day mini-retreats for Moms

At these retreats we've ...

...Shared our children's stories

...Prayed for each other

...Eaten delicious food

...Cuddled baby bunnies, ridden a redneck carousel, flown down Slide Mountain, and zip lined across a pond

...Cried together and laughed together

...And encouraged one another to live well while we're waiting to be reunited with our kids in Heaven one day.

We've met parents from ...

...Texas, Mississippi, Louisiana, Kansas, Missouri, Tennessee, Illinois, Florida, and Arkansas

We've seen broken hearts begin to mend and a number of lives changed forever.  And this is not due to anything we've done.  God's presence has been so evident at each one of these events, and His hand is clearly on this ministry.

And we've expanded our outreach...

...We have a vibrant, growing community of bereaved, but believing, parents participating on our Facebook page ("While We're Waiting -- Support for Bereaved Parents")

...We have a monthly While We're Waiting faith-based support group meeting, which has been a great blessing to so many

...We have sent 58 Hope Packages to newly-bereaved parents just in the year 2013

And, most exciting of all, we are in the very early stages of a building project.  We believe God is leading us to build a facility which will be dedicated just to the While We're Waiting ministry.  This will be a lodge-style building on 50 acres, which will contain 8-10 private bedrooms with baths for retreat attendees to use.

Our desire is to create a warm, welcoming, safe place ... a refuge ... for parents who have lost children to come "home" to.  

I've never been any good at fundraising.  When my kids used to have to do fundraisers for school, we'd hit up the grandparents, and then I'd buy whatever else they had to sell myself.  I couldn't stand to ask people to spend their hard-earned money for wrapping paper, or popcorn, or whatever other little trinkets they were selling.

I'm still pretty uncomfortable with the whole fundraising idea.  But especially as we undertake this building project, funds will be needed.  We do not charge for any of our events or for sending out the Hope Packages, although we do receive a love offering at our events.  We never want cost to be a prohibitive factor for anyone who would like to attend one of our retreats or receive a Hope Package.

Do not donate to While We're Waiting if it would cause you to give less to your local church, which is where I feel our first responsibility lies in our giving.  And we wouldn't want you to give less to any other ministry or missionary that you may already be supporting.  But if God has blessed you, and you have an abundance this year and would like to donate some of it to a worthy cause, we'd be grateful if you'd consider WWW.

So, if you'd like to participate in "Giving Tuesday" -- please consider making a tax-deductible donation to While We're Waiting.  You can do so by going to the While We're Waiting website and clicking on the "To Donate" tab.  If you prefer not to do online giving, you can send a check made out to While We're Waiting to this address:

While We're Waiting
c/o Jill Sullivan
307 Canon Lane
Malvern, Arkansas 72104

You can be assured that we will be good stewards, and that every penny you give will go directly to the ministry.  Thank you so much!

Monday Mourning -- Thankful for Salvation

As a school-based speech pathologist, I spend a lot of time walking students to and from my classroom.  At regular intervals throughout the day, I show up at various teachers' doors and say, "Time for my group!"  The kids jump up and join me in the hallway, all of them excitedly jabbering about some story they want to tell me.

One Thursday morning a couple of weeks ago, I called for my usual group of four kids from one of the second grade classrooms.  As soon as one of the little girls stepped out into the hallway, she excitedly told me, "Mrs. Sullivan ... I got saved last night!"  She said it so quickly, I really didn't catch what she said, so I asked her to repeat herself.  Her blue eyes literally glowed as she told me again, "I got saved last night!"  Oh, what a thrill!  I gave her a big hug and told her how proud I was of her for making such an important decision.  I loved how excited she was to tell me.  It was obvious that she'd been waiting for me to show up at the door just so she could share her good news.

The next week, I was walking that same group back to their classroom after our session and we passed one of the teacher's aides in the hallway ... someone that this little girl doesn't see every day.  She immediately stopped and called out the aide's name and said, "Guess what ... I got saved!"  That teacher also gave her a big hug and told her how happy she was for her.  This was clearly a big deal to her. I was impressed .... and a little ashamed.  This little girl was telling everybody she knew about what had happened in her life.  She was a far better witness for Christ than I usually am.

The following week, she told me that she had gotten baptized, and she asked me if I had been baptized.  When I told her I had, she grabbed my arm and hugged it, saying, "Now we're sisters in Christ."  My heart absolutely melted.  What joy this little girl had!

As I thought about this little girl, and what I believe is a true salvation experience for her, my heart was so happy.  This child does not come from a good home situation.  In fact, she told me something earlier this school year that caused me to go visit with the school counselor about her.  She is only in second grade.  I have no idea what she might encounter in the years ahead, but I suspect her life won't be easy.

But here's the thing.  Because she has Jesus in her heart, this little girl can face whatever lies ahead.  No matter what her future holds, she won't go through it alone.  I pray that she continues to hold fast to her faith as the years go by.

This little girl reminded me of another little girl who was saved and baptized about fourteen years ago.  And because of the decision she made at that time, she was able to face a diagnosis of terminal cancer at the age of sixteen.  She never got angry, she never asked why, and she never lost her faith as she engaged in a year-long battle for her life.  And because of that decision to follow Christ, she stepped into Heaven when that battle ended.  And because I made the same decision when I was a little girl, I will see her again one day.

And that is why, in this week of Thanksgiving, I am thankful for salvation.

Ten on the Tenth -- Observations from the Empty Nest

Whoops!  It's the 11th, isn't it?  Oh well, yesterday I was too busy with my little "chick" who was home for the weekend to post anyway.

I can't seem to go anywhere these days without someone asking me how we are doing with our empty nest.  So, here are a few observations I've made in the first three months of having an empty nest ...

1.  I only do laundry once, maybe twice, a week.  When Bethany was home, our washing machine was running pretty much every day because of all of her sweaty, smelly practice clothes and uniforms.

2.  Two people make a lot less trash than three people.  How can one person make such a difference?

3.  I do a lot less cooking when it's just the two of us at home.  In fact, I rarely turn on the oven.  Sandwiches, cereal, soup, carry-out pizza, and meals out meet our needs for sustenance.

4.  I do far less grocery shopping (see #3).

5.  I rarely run the dishwasher (see #3).

6.  I clean the house ... and it stays clean!  Especially Bethany's bathroom.  And her bedroom.  I kind of like that.

7.  I'm no longer running from sporting event to sporting event.  Most nights, I come home from work and I shut the garage door behind my car.  I can put on my pajama pants and relax at home for the evening.  Ahhhhh, bliss!

8.  Maybe because I'm no longer attending sporting events in person, I find myself much more interested in watching sports on TV.  And maybe because that's something Brad and I can enjoy doing together.  Speaking of which, we actually have time to enjoy doing things together again, just the two of us.  I like that, too.

9.  It is so much fun to sit back and watch Bethany grow into a responsible, mature young woman.  She's working hard and it's paying off in the form of excellent grades.  She is learning how to manage her time and how to discipline herself to study even when she'd rather do something else.  It's also wonderful to see her begin to appreciate her mom and dad a little more.  When I get texts from her thanking us for raising her the way we did and talking about how much she loves and misses us ... Well, it doesn't get much better than that!

10.  I'm beginning to see Bethany as an individual, someone separate and distinct from me, with her own unique gifts and talents and her own life to live.  Of course, intellectually, I've always known that, but my heart is starting to accept that as well.  And I can only rejoice in that!  I'm also beginning to see Brad and I as a couple again ... no longer as "just" our children's parents.  And that can only be a good thing.

Do I miss Bethany?  Of course I do.  Our house is so quiet without her here.  This past Halloweeen was the first time in 22 years that we haven't had a child at home for that occasion.  And this upcoming Christmas will be the last time we'll have a child at home on Christmas morning ... by next Christmas Bethany will be married.  Life is changing for the Sullivan family.

One thing, though, that makes it kind of fun to miss Bethany is the joyful anticipation of seeing her again.  She does not come home very often ... about once a month up to this point.  So it's a real treat when she does.  I get all excited and run to the grocery store to get the ingredients for her favorite foods and come home and cook them up.  She brings home a pile of dirty laundry and messes up that clean bedroom and bathroom.  We stay up late watching wedding shows on TV and talking about college life.  And before I know it, it's Sunday afternoon and she's hitting the road for "home", and our home is quiet and still once again.  And there's no sadness, because she's doing what she's supposed to be doing ... growing up and becoming the woman God wants her to be.

But the "missing" we have for Bethany is altogether different from the "missing" in our hearts for Hannah.  When Hannah left for Heaven, we experienced many of the things I listed above.  We had less laundry.  Her bed stayed made and her room stayed clean.  I no longer bought as many groceries as I used to.  But there was no joy to be found in these things, only emptiness and heartbreak.

There is one similarity, though, and that is the joyful anticipation of seeing her again.  Granted, it will probably be longer than a month before I see her again (although, if God wills, it could be much sooner).  Four and a half years ago, she hit the road for "home", and our nest became partially empty way before I ever thought it would.  But, just like Bethany, she is doing what she's supposed to be doing ... sitting around the throne, worshipping her Lord and Savior.

And though my nest may be empty, my heart is full ... because both of my girls are happy, and I will see them both again ... sooner or later.

Tell About It Tuesday -- While We're Waiting Weekend Recap

Wow.  It happened again.  We had an absolutely wonderful weekend with some amazing parents ... all of whom have children in Heaven.  These folks came from all over the country, and we were honored that they chose to come to Arkansas and share their precious children with us.  God blessed us with perfect fall weather ... crisp, cold mornings and bright blue afternoon skies without a cloud in sight.  Family Farm is beautiful in the fall, and everyone quickly made themselves at home.

We kicked off the weekend with a delicious meal together on Friday evening, and then began the process of sharing our children's stories.  There's nothing like sharing your child's story with other moms and dads who truly understand and who sincerely want to hear about your child.  

As the time grew late, we all headed to bed, waking up bright and early on Saturday morning for a good Southern-style breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausage, and biscuits and gravy.

After breakfast, it was back to sharing our stories for awhile, then we headed out to feed the animals.  We paused for a few moments on the front steps of the Lodge to put on the Armor of God (Family Farm style!), and then made our way to the barnyard.  "Daddy May" introduced us to all the animals by name, and then we got to visit with them ... up close and personal!

A few brave folks went for a ride on the "Redneck Carousel" ...

The Mays (who own Family Farm) shared their son's story at Salvation Station ...

We went back inside for a few more stories and a lunch from Chick-Fil-A.  Then it was back outside for some more outdoor activities.  

Slide Mountain ...

Islands ...

the Balance Log ...

a hay ride (which unfortunately was cut short by a flat tire) ...

and, of course, the zip line ...

We checked out the new Family Farm teepee ...

And enjoyed an incredible 5-course gourmet meal prepared and served by our very own professional chef ...

We spent the evening discussing issues that we all deal with as parents with children in Heaven ... things like how we handle birthdays, how we answer the dreaded question, "How many children do you have?", how we deal with the clumsy things well-meaning people often say to us, and how men and women grieve differently, along with a number of other topics.   

Our weekend wrapped up on Sunday morning with a devotional about how we can live well while we're waiting to be reunited with our children in Heaven one day followed by a time of praise and worship.  This is always the most moving time for me, as this group of people who has lost so much lift their voices in praise to their Savior.  Words cannot describe it.

Let me close with the words of a couple of our parents ...

Molly's mom said, "The most wonderful, caring people you will ever meet.  They will show you how living well while we wait is our act of obedience to Jesus and our way to honor our child in Heaven."

Melody's mom said, "This was such a blessing.  Thank you for helping us as we walk through our grief journey."

If you have a child in Heaven, we'd love to see you at our next While We're Waiting Weekend, which is scheduled for April 4-6, 2014.  Just click on the "Register for a While We're Waiting Event" tab above and sign up.  Our retreats fill up quickly, so don't wait!

Thoughtful Thursday -- Elusive JOY

Joy can be elusive, can't it?

Anyone who knows me well (or who has read this blog for awhile) knows that our family has kind of adopted the word JOY as our "word."  Hannah's middle name was Joy, and it's a sweet reminder of her.  It also represents our firm belief that the joy of the Lord is our strength (Nehemiah 8:10) and is a reminder of the great joy our daughter is now experiencing in Heaven.  Hannah's former bedroom is now wall-to-wall JOY stuff, and has become one of my favorite places to be.

But sometimes in daily life, joy is hard to hold onto.

Birthday cakes with no one to blow out the candles, anticipation of the holiday season, and an empty chair at the table day after day and year after year ... these things can really put a dent in my joy ... like a dent the size of the Grand Canyon!

Some days this is what my joy looks like ...

And some days it's a little more like this ... (This may be my favorite picture of all time.)

But then, I get a note in the mail like the one I received on Hannah's birthday this week (you can tell that this is someone who knows my love for the word "JOY") ...

... And some of that joy comes back.

Joy can come from the smallest things ... like a note on a difficult day, a hug from an understanding friend, or even a beautiful sunset.  In fact, I believe that one of the best things we can do when we're hurting is to ...

Easier said than done, I know.  When we've suffered a great loss, it's hard to imagine that we'll ever find joy again.  But little by little, if we train ourselves to look for and name those little things that bring even the faintest glimmer of joy to our hearts ... gradually, bit by bit, inch by inch ... God faithfully begins to restore our joy.  

Is it hypocritical to try to conjure up joy in our hearts when we're just really not feeling it?  Take a look at this quote from the book "Kingdom of Love" by Hannah Hurnard.

"What about praising even when the disappointment feels very real? Does that mean we're faking it and fooling ourselves?  No. It means we're being obedient.  It is never hypocrisy to act as we earnestly desire to feel, even though the feeling may be very contrary at the time. Feelings follow action."

I really like that.  

And here's what I'm going to leave you with on this Thoughtful Thursday.  I've been thinking lately about this verse in the sixth chapter of Ecclesiastes (v. 20). 

"For he will not dwell unduly on the days of his life, because God keeps him busy with the joy of his heart." (NKJV)

I could spend a lot of time dwelling unduly on the days of my life ... and when I do that, it seems like that's when I lose my joy.  I'd much rather let God keep me busy with the joy of my heart.  And you know how it is when you're busy and your heart is full of joy ... time goes by fast.  And hey, that sounds pretty good to me!

Tell About It Tuesday -- Five Birthdays in Heaven

Five?

How is it possible that Hannah has spent five birthdays in Heaven now?  It seems like just yesterday that we celebrated her 17th birthday together.

How is it possible that Hannah has only spent five birthdays in Heaven now?  It seems like forever since we celebrated her 17th birthday together.

As always, the days leading up to Hannah's birthday this year were harder than the actual day has been.  Friday was tough. I came home from work and baked Hannah's favorite birthday cake -- Mississippi Mud.  Baking a birthday cake for someone who's not going to be there is ... miserable, depressing, sickening.  As odd as it sounds, though, I think it would feel worse not to make a cake.  It's just something I've gotta do.

Saturday afternoon, we headed up to Briggsville to meet our daughter Bethany and her fiance' Brad, and to visit Hannah's grave.  Bethany and Brad were on fall break this weekend, but they had to attend a wedding in Fayetteville, so they didn't get in until late that night ... actually, it was about 1:00 that morning, but I stayed up to get a hug from my girl.  After all, it had been a month since I'd seen her last!

Sunday morning we got up and headed to the cemetery.  If you know me well (or you've read my blog for a long time), you know that I get no comfort from visiting Hannah's grave.  It's just a really hard place for me to be ... there's just too much reality there.  I do hope that some day that will be different, but for now, that's just the way it is.  For now, I do well to go twice a year (on her birthday and on her Heaven day).

We spent the rest of Sunday just relaxing and watching football and movies with Bethany and her Brad.  So nice.  And then I was off yesterday, so we were able to spend most of the day together, eating lunch out and doing a little shopping.  Of course, I had to share them with Brad's family too, so I grudgingly let them go spend some time with his folks last night.  ;-)

Today I headed back to work, but stopped by basketball practice afterwards to see Bethany work out with her former team.  So glad she was able to do that with them today ... she really enjoyed it!  She was able to scrimmage with them, but then was able to kick back and watch while they did line drills and conditioning exercises ... She especially liked that part!  Then she came home, took a shower, packed up her stuff, and hit the road back to Fayetteville.  Having her home really helped make the weekend brighter.

This is the first year I've actually worked on Hannah's birthday since she went to Heaven.  This morning, I purposely did not post anything about Hannah's birthday on Facebook, because I really didn't want my co-workers to know about it.  I wasn't sure if I could hold it together if anyone said anything to me about her birthday, and I was probably right.  Thankfully, no one seemed to know, except one sweet person who emailed me.  I still felt "different" all day ... as if everyone who saw me could surely tell just by looking at me that today was Hannah's birthday.  Sounds strange, even as I write it, but I really did feel that way.

What a blessing it was to get home and see that many people had already recognized that it was her birthday and written sweet comments and posts.  I then posted a status about her birthday, and have been watching the comments roll in while I've written this blog post.  To say that I'm overwhelmed by the prayers offered up on behalf of our family and the kind remembrances of my Hannah Joy is a completely inadequate statement.  I am completely blown away, and I am so grateful.  Our family has been so blessed to have such wonderful people in our lives.

So, five years.  Hannah would be 22 years old today.  She would no longer be a girl, but a woman.  She would be a senior in college.  Would would her major be?  Would she be engaged, married?  What would her career plans be ... or would she be planning to be a stay-at-home mom to my grandchildren?  How would she be impacting the world for Christ?

Oh, wait.  I know the answer to that last one.  And I have to believe her impact for Christ is far greater now than it ever would have been if she were here celebrating her 22nd birthday with us.  Does that make me miss her any less?  No.  If I had the option of bringing her back, would I do it?  Yes.  I suppose it's a good thing God doesn't give us that option.  Because His plan is greater than mine, and He knows what is best.  And for that, I can only be grateful.

But oh, how I miss my girl ...

Monday Mourning -- Praising in Prison

"...they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace before the rulers.  And when they had brought them to the magistrates, they said, 'These men are Jews, and they are disturbing our city.  They advocate customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to accept or practice.' The crowd joined in attacking them, and the magistrates tore the garments off them and gave orders to beat them with rods.  And when they had inflicted many blows upon them, they threw them into prison, ordering the jailer to keep the safely.  Having received this order, he put them into the inner prison and fastened their feet in the stocks.  About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them ..."  Acts 16:19b-25

Paul and Silas were in a rough spot.

They really hadn't done anything wrong.  They were serving God, witnessing to people, casting out evil spirits ... Sounds to me like they were doing everything right.  And what was their reward?

They were dragged before the authorities, falsely accused, stripped naked, beaten with rods, thrown into prison, and fastened in stocks.  Some reward.

And yet, what did they do, there in the darkness of prison?  They prayed and sang hymns to God.

Reading this passage the other day, I was reminded of how we always close our While We're Waiting Weekends for Parents.  On Sunday morning, before we all head our separate ways, we spend about 30 minutes having a time of praise and worship.  This is always a very moving time for me, because I know the immense cost of these parents' praise.  These are folks who were just going along through their lives and were blindsided by unthinkable tragedy. They've been stripped of everything, beaten, and thrown into a "prison" of pain and heartache.  And yet they lift their voices in praise.  It's a beautiful thing.

But there's more.  Look at the very end of verse 25 ... " and the prisoners were listening to them."  When those of us who have suffered great loss lift our voices in praise, people take notice.  We have an opportunity to share our faith ... in a way that most folks don't ... simply because of the fact that we've suffered.  Like Paul and Silas, we just have to be prepared for these opportunities, whatever our circumstances.

"...Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have..."  I Peter 3:15

Ten on the Tenth -- Surprises for Hannah

Hannah's birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks, which always has a tendency to put me in a bit of a melancholy mood.  She would be 22 years old on the 22nd of this month ... her "golden birthday", as we used to call it when we were kids.  And what's more striking than that to me is that this will be the fifth birthday she is spending in Heaven.  How is it possible that that much time has passed since we celebrated her 17th birthday here on earth?  And honestly, it was hard to "celebrate" her 17th birthday, because we knew that, without a miracle, it would be the last one we would enjoy with her here.

I've been thinking lately about things that have happened since Hannah's last earthly birthday ... things she would be surprised by if she knew about them.  And who knows ... maybe she does!  So, here are ten things that I think would really surprise my girl ...

1.  Probably her biggest surprise would be finding out that her "baby" sister, Bethany, is engaged ... and to one of her old friends and classmates.  I can just see her smiling and shaking her head about that.  She'd be thrilled.

2.  She'd also be surprised that that same baby sister won a state championship in both high jump and softball her senior year.  As her biggest fan, Hannah would be very proud of her!

3.  She'd be shocked to know that her dad has a new job ... as Director of Curriculum and Instruction at Fountain Lake Schools.  She'd be proud of him, too!

4.  She would be surprised (and excited) to find out that she has a new cousin on the way!!  Yes, her Aunt Sarah and Uncle Byron are going to break from Sullivan tradition, and have a third baby.  Maybe, after eight girls, we'll finally get our boy.  Now that would be a surprise to all of us!

5.  She would be surprised (and dismayed) by the current state of our government.

6.  She would be surprised by the prevalence of technology today.  The first generation iPhone had only been out about a year when she turned 17, and the iPad was still a figment of Steve Jobs's imagination.

7.  She would be surprised by all the mutations American Idol has gone through, the fact that there is no more John & Kate Plus Eight, and the popularity of Duck Dynasty (which she would love, by the way)!

8.  She would be surprised that so many people have heard about her and her story.  She was never one to seek the spotlight, and she would be shocked (but pleased) to know that the story of her faith in the face of cancer had touched so many lives.

9.  She would be surprised by the ministry of While We're Waiting, and that the cornerstone of that ministry is the retreats we host for bereaved parents.  She, more than probably anyone else, knows that I've never been a "retreat person" ... as a natural introvert, I've never enjoyed big get-togethers, especially with a bunch of people I've never met!  But that leads into #10 ...

10.  She would be surprised to see how God has changed her mom, dad, and sister over the last five years.  How our perspective has changed from the temporary to the eternal, and how our priorities have been completely and totally altered.  How we've come to understand what the Bible means by "The peace that passes understanding", and how God has used the prayers of others to carry us on the days that we couldn't walk on our own.  And how we spend each day looking forward to the day we'll see her again ... but in the meantime, how God continues to help us live well while we're waiting.