The Story Behind the Names

As I sit quietly in the hospital room with Jenna and our newborn son, I am reminded of God's faithfulness and miracle-working power. Three years ago when Jenna and I were married, I never dreamed of having 3 sons by age 30; however, the Lord in His soveriegn plan knew exactly what He was doing. For that I am truly thankful.

Our first three years of marriage have been filled with pain, grief, joy and blessing. The Lord has given and taken away. First, He saw fit to take Jenna's Nana (July 07), my Granddaddy (August 07), our first child (February 08), my dad (May 08) and my mom (March 09). It is on days like today in the quietness of a hospital room that I wish they were all here to celebrate with us. I like to imagine Jenna's Nana holding Samuel, mom holding Daniel, and my dad patting me on the shoulder and saying welcome to fatherhood. I can hear the faint echos of what my dad might be saying, "Son, now you will know why I loved you the way I did."

Although I can't audible hear their voices or whispers, I am thankful to have a Heavenly Father who has been with me through the funerals and the births. Life is full of cycles. We are born, grow up, grow out, grow old, and then go the way of all men. It is a blessing to know we can escape this cycle and enjoy eternal life.

Jenna and I have three children. Our first, who we lost through miscarriage, was named Ethan Caleb. We gave him this name because Ethan was a singer and writer in the Bible. First Chronicles 15:19 says, "So the singers, Heman, Asaph, and Ethan, were appointed to sound with cymbals of brass;" We knew that our first child though never making it outside the womb was fearfully and wondefully made in the image of God. He was taken directly into the presence of the LORD. I can imagine him singing unto the Lord for His mercy and grace. Ethan wrote Psalm 89. In the first verse, he writes, "I will sing of the mercies of the LORD for ever: with my mouth will I make known thy faithfulness to all generations." God is merciful and faithful to all generations, and Ethan's life reminds us of God's graciousness.

His middle name was Caleb. As you know, Caleb and Joshua were the only two people who came out of Egypt and entered the Promised Land. Caleb had great faith, and the Lord reward Him for it. Hebrews 11:6 says, "But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him."

Our second child was going to be named Elijah Thomas. We liked this name, yet during the 8th month of Jenna's pregnancy, my mother passed away of a heart attack at 48 years of age. A few weeks afterward, the Lord began speaking to my heart about our child's name. I kept hearing Daniel. At first, I kept this to myself, because I knew Jenna liked the other name and would have thought I was crazy for wanting to change his name. We already had 3-4 things monogrammed. Yes, the expensive diaper bag was one of them.

When I began researching name meanings, I discovered that Daniel means "My God is Judge." This was so true in our case. Hebrews 9:27-28 says, "And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment: So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time without sin unto salvation." God is the Judge of all the earth and because of Adam's transgression, every person will someday die. As a young child, you never really think about it, but within two years, Nana, Grandaddy, Ethan, Dad, and Mom had met the just penalty for sin--death. I am glad to report they were all overcomers through the blood of the Lamb. They all had testimonies of saving faith in Jesus Christ. Romans 6:23 says, "For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." It also meant a lot to Jenna when she found out her grandparents were going to name their first child Daniel if it were a boy. Her Nana and Pop had two girls, so the name was never used until our Daniel was born.

Daniel's middle name is Benjamin. This is a Johnson family name. My dad's middle name was Benjamin. My granddaddy's first name was Bennie, and my great-great grandfather's first name was Benjamin. When Rachel was dying with Jacob's second son by her (Gen. 35:18), she named her son, Benoni, which means "son of my sorrow or son of my strength." Jacob named him Benjamin which means, "son of the right hand."

Daniel Benjamin is our first son we have been able to hold. Everytime I look into his face and call his name, I hope I am reminded of "My God is Judge" and "Son of my Right Hand." Within his name, I am reminded of God's grace through redemption. All men have sinned and come short of the glory of God. We all stand before a Righteous Judge without one plea, yet God sent His Son Jesus from His right hand to die for the sins of man. In Jesus, God righteousness stands, His justice is satisfied, and sinful people like Nana, Granddaddy, Ethan, Dad, and Mom can by faith be pardoned and justified in God's presence (Romans 3:26). This Jesus is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy,To the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen (Jude 1:24-25).

After Daniel was born, we were consumed with taking care of him. We actually couldn't believe we had a child. He was born 6 weeks after my mom passed away, and his presence helped heal my heart from the grief and pain of losing my parents. There were still days of grief and disappointment, but his sweet face brightened our home. The Lord used Daniel to heal Jenna's heart as well. After our first miscarriage, we never knew if we would have any children. We were both concerned and heartbroken. She took it much harder than I did, and for four months after losing Ethan, she was devastated. After researching online, she found a book called Hannah's Hope. It dealt with problems of infertility, miscarriage, and the loss of children. The book worked wonders on Jenna's heart, and it helped allow some light to poke through the dark clouds which surrounded her.

Four months after Daniel's birth, I had a sense that we might be ready for another child. I joked with Jenna as Daniel was crying about having another child. In some ways, I have learned that kidding each other about having children is not always the best. There are many who would love to have children. Those who never have any problems getting pregnant do not really understand the full blessings of having children. Some choose to not have children. Some couples graciously adopt and provide a wonderful picture of God's unconditional love.Others get pregnant easily, wait 9 months, and deliver like it is a breeze. My heart has grown more sensitive through our process of loss and birth, and I will continue to learn more as our children grow. I do want to remind you of how fragile life is. God is ultimately the Giver and Sustainer of life.

Throughout this pregnancy, we have been reminded of Hannah's hope. We could have never imagined having two living sons now. Two years ago, I wondered about the options we had in raising a family. There are many children who get neglected, are in orphan's homes, and are in need of adoption. Like Hannah, we prayed and the Lord answered. During this pregnancy, Jenna was in the hosptital 5 times (one stay lasted 7 days), on bedrest 17 days, and in a wreck which totaled our car. There were so many prayers lifted up for this child. Hannah in First Samuel 1:27 said, "For this child I prayed; and the LORD hath given me my petition which I asked of him:" God heard so many of our prayers for protection, peace, and provision. Samuel means "heard or asked of God or God's hears." We are thankful we serve a God who hears and answers prayers!

Samuel's middle name is Levi. Of course, you know this was the third child of Jacob, and we consider Samuel our third child. Levi's family was also the people God chose to be in charge of His worship. It was the Levites who were in charge of taking care of the tabernacle. Within this tribe, God chose Aaron and His family to be the priests. The Levites were not given any land when the Promised Land was divided, because God was their portion. Levi means "united or joined." Daniel and Samuel are very close in age, and we pray they both will grow up close to each other, close to us, and most importantly to God.

For those who may have wondered, these are the stories behind our son's names. Parenting is an incredbile responsibility. As a dad, it is my job to reflect the glory of our heavenly Father to our family, and the love and intimacy of Jesus Christ to my wife. May God bless you and your families as you are witnesses of His goodness and grace. Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth.Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them(Psalms 127:3-5a)!

A Humbled Dad,
Brian

My Heart Aches for You...

Oh, how I wish you were with me today. As I worried over myself with the aches and pains of pregnancy, I didn't think of you today as I should have. I didn't worry over you, and the thought of you didn't hurt me as it used to. I didn't speak your name, and now, it hurts because I didn't.

I want to say it now. I would shout it from the rooftop if I knew it would help. It doesn't. Each time I think of you, it makes me extremely proud. I am so thankful that you were mine; if only for a few short weeks, you truly were mine. I cannot be saddened when I think of you now. I am so happy for you, and there are times when I long to be with you.

It's not time yet. I have to be here. I have the great opportunity of being pregnant and being married to a man I know you would have loved. I am learning each day that God is completely in control, and having realized that, I was able to deal with you being gone.

I imagine you walking down the streets of Heaven today. You would be five months old today if the Lord would have allowed me to carry you, but it was a year ago today that we learned your heart had never beat inside my womb. I lost you one year ago today...

Oh, Ethan Caleb, how I miss you and how proud of you I am. I am sorry for each day that goes by and I don't say your sweet name. I am sorry you will never meet your brother, Elijah Thomas. I am so sorry that you aren't here with us, but I'll never forget how much better off you really are.

My heart hurts sometimes when I am asked if the child I am carrying now is our first, and my immediate reaction is, "Yes." You see, it aches because Elijah isn't our first. You are my first. You are the one I wanted to hold first. You are the one I longed for and the one my heart begged the Lord for, and yet the Lord took you straight into His arms. At first, that was hard for your mommy and daddy to understand, but now, it fills our hearts with complete joy. It makes Heaven so much sweeter knowing you are there waiting for us...

I wish you were here, Ethan. I wish I could hold you. I wish I knew your face. I wish it was easier than it is. But I would be lying if I didn't tell you the truth... The truth is that your Father, the one you are with right now, loves you more than I do. He considered you absolutely perfect and decided He wanted you with Him. Do you know how special you are? Do you know that you are thought of and missed so very much? When I say my heart aches, it isn't bad, sweet baby. It aches to be in Heaven with you.

Twenty-Six

Twenty-six years ago this week, my mother had little idea that I was breech. She went for her last appointment with the doctor before having me, and looking back, she realizes now that the doctor was actually feeling my rear end instead of my head. She was nine months pregnant with her first child, yet she had no idea the seriousness of what was at stake.

Twenty-six years ago next week, when my parents arrived at the hospital, my mom was surprised when the doctor told her that she needed to deliver C-section. Turns out that there was no other option, and because of the position I was in, my hip was dislocated. For six months following my birth, I wore a brace to ensure that my hip would heal correctly.

Twenty-six weeks today, and I cannot imagine what this tiny being within me is like. I cannot fathom what his facial expressions might be or what bothers him within the womb. I cannot help him when he's uncomfortable, and I cannot soothe him the way I wish I could just yet. Oh, I feel his kicks, turns, and swirls, and I cannot understand why God would bless me this much.

Next week I'll be turning twenty-six years old, and I'll be twenty-six weeks along in my second pregnancy with my first known son. It's unreal to me. It is truly awe-inspiring. There are moments, like my mother, in which I wish I knew what was taking place within. As I've endured the loss of the first pregnancy, I have learned that I love not knowing. For if I did, my emotions would overwhelm me and I wouldn't enjoy this the way I am. I am blessed. I am incredibly blessed.

Somewhere

There's a picture somewhere of a blonde-haired girl running through the front yard of her small, red-bricked house, holding a brand new Barbie she had been given at her sister's birthday party. In that same picture, a brown-eyed boy is following closely behind her trying intently to get his hands on that doll.

There's a video somewhere of a party at McDonalds where a little blue-eyed girl gets skipped in line while waiting to throw balls onto a target at her own third birthday party. In that same video, a brown-haired boy puts his hands on her shoulders and helps her back in line.

There's an old tape somewhere of a little girl singing her heart out on some old Judds' classics. On that same tape, a young boy joins in and shares giggles as they attempt to recreate their own country duet.

There's a memory somewhere of that same blonde-haired, blue-eyed, little girl, who is now a woman, calling her best childhood friend to tell him that she was pregnant. In that same memory, the brown-eyed, brown-haired, young boy, who is now a grown man, tells his friend that his wife is pregnant too.

There will be a place somewhere in that woman's heart that breaks as she steps into the room in less than 48 hours to see that man's baby girl for the first time. In that same place, that man will not understand the love his best friend has for his baby already.

Because there is another child somewhere in Heaven who God had planned to take. While that brown-eyed boy will be getting his very own doll, the blonde-haired girl lived through the loss of the child who would have been born in this very same week. But as she steps in to see this newborn baby girl, her blue eyes will be filled with the tears of an expectant mother celebrating the birth of her best friend's child.

Anxiously Awaiting Addyson,
Jenna

In honor of the Clark family,
Jimmy, Amanda, and Addyson

Have We Ever Met?

If you had met me in February, you would have come to know a person full of hurt, disappointment, and heartache. If you had met me in March, you would have seen a person drowning in sorrow. If you had met me in April, you would have noticed that I was struggling to even love again. If you would have met me in May, you would have given up on me too.

If you had met me yesterday, you would have met the most thankful woman in the world. You would have seen how happy I was/am to be in love. You would have noticed how hard I tried to surprise my husband on his 28th birthday. You would have enjoyed watching me bake his favorite cupcakes and actually clean the house. You would have laughed to see me working out (oh yes, I am on a roll, and bound and determined). You would have wondered if anything could bring me down.

If you meet me today, you'll see my insecurities. You will understand that my life seems as if it's one long roller coaster ride that has no end. You will see my humble attempts at becoming a better wife and being a mother who is trying to be completely honored with the fact that her child is in Heaven. You will see how lonely I am - missing friends and realizing how much life has changed in just 2 short years. You will wonder about my heart - if I care or seem to notice what is going on around me. You will worry I have lost all hope in life. It would be okay for you to admit it... Because in some ways, it's all true.

If you meet me tomorrow, I promise I'll be trying harder than I was today. You will see that I'll be reading even more of my Bible to hear Him speak. You will learn that I am looking forward to my date night with my husband - something we haven't had in four months because the pain has overwhelmed me. You will see me swimming - weightless and free of guilt of the life I've lived. You would not have to wonder where my priorities lie, but solely on my relationship with Christ and then my best friend in the world. You'll see that I'm making the best out of what God has given me, and how hard that is for me. You'd want to keep your distance because I will still be fragile, but soon you'd realize how I long for your friendship.

Tomorrow will be another day... I'm praying that I have that chance. I realize how difficult it is to be my friend, relative, and reader, for that matter. Understand that I wish I could take it all back - every mistake, regret, circumstance, and tear. I hope that you know I do. I've done things I'm not proud of in the past, and even now, in the present time, I've walked and remained in the valley of the shadow of death, when God is urging me to move on. I've left you behind, I've neglected our relationship, and I've let go of life. Forgive me. I long to love, live, and laugh again... My perspective is clear, and my thoughts are vivid. I know it is God's push that has caused me to smile today... It will happen again... Maybe tomorrow, or even tonight, but I know God is holding my hand, and these are just seasons... And yes, they come and go.

Acts 3:19
"Therefore repent and turn back, that your sins may be wiped out so that seasons of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord."

Longing to Love Again

I thought of you today...

What you were wearing and how the sun would have been touching your face. I imagined the smile you might have and how you would be enjoying yourself. I wondered how you had changed and how long it had been since I held you. I couldn't wait to love you. I thought about the next few days and weeks. What it would mean to see you again. To hold you tighter than ever before, and to know without a shadow of doubt that you were the greatest gift in my life.

I also thought of what used to be...

How we almost had him. How we are Heavenly parents. How excited and scared we were when we knew he was coming. How our hearts broke and how hard we were on each other when we realized he was gone. I thought about how we told all of our friends and family and how crazy all of that was.

I also pictured what is to come...

I thought about how one day, very soon, I will hold you closer than the last time. The surprises I have in store for you, the summer we will spend serving Christ, the days with our family, and the nights alone with one another. Those are things I can't wait for.

And though, I've spent the first part of this year missing our child, I realized today that nothing is harder than missing you... You are my best friend, and life without you doesn't make sense. I am so ready to see your face again.

"...When I found him, whom my soul loves; I held on to him and would not let him go..." (Song of Solomon 3:4)

Getting Good at Goodbye

In a few hours, I will tell a group of 18 children goodbye for the last time, only this time, they will not return through my classroom door ever again with a bunch of toothless grins. Miss Kramer next door has already came over with tear-filled eyes exclaiming she had broken down with her class. I haven't yet... But then again, it's only 10:30. The children's voices are filling the room, senseless chitter chatter and random squeals and laughs, but the looming moments also come to mind.

Maybe I won't cry this afternoon when the children say their final words. Maybe I'll be so overwhelmed that tears will not cease. Maybe I'm thinking much too into this. Nevertheless, my heart aches knowing this will not only be their last goodbyes but mine as well.

Upon entering this classroom in July 2007, I had the most distinctive feeling... I had become a stranger in my own room. It, for some reason, just did not feel as it had before. As the year progressed, the children entered, and God continued this call, I realized what He was asking of me. This is why as the children walk away today, they are not leaving this room alone. I will be leaving it as well for my last time; God has called me to leave this inspiring position.

All year I have said my goodbyes... I have said my farewells to my Nana, to Brian's Granddaddy, to my first child, and most recently to Brian's dad. I now plan to tell 18 6-year-olds that they will not be able to come back next year and hug me as they had seen my last year's students do this year. This room will be someone else's, and I will be following the will of my very own Teacher... His name is Jesus.

I also must say bye to my fellow colleagues who are now friends, and I will leave two of my very best teaching friends behind. Miss Kramer, who actually is Liz, has become the greatest addition to this year. Had it not been for her, I don't know, with all of the disappointments of 2007-2008, if I would have made it without her. She has truly been a "friend closer than a brother" or sister in my case. Saying goodbye to my best friend and next door neighbor is going to be one of the most difficult things I have done, and I say that with great experience of saying goodbye. I will leave behind one of the most influential friends I have... I've almost been ignoring her lately because I fear the emotions that will overtake me as we say goodbye. (Please forgive me for this shortcoming, Jenny.) Mrs. Jones has been a spiritual leader in this school; she started having devotionals and prayer time once a week even when only a few showed. She's been the most heartfelt and sincere friend I've ever had, and having to leave her breaks my heart. Why must goodbyes be so hard?

The crazy thing is that I'm not fearful. I know that this is what God has spoken, and disobeying Him would be a sin. I must leave this part of my life behind for now, and press toward the prize that God has for me.

With tear-filled eyes I write my last entry as Mrs. Johnson... Goodbye Kindergarten. You have filled my life with joy and the children I've dreamed to teach. Lord, I don't understand why, but here I am saying goodbye.

Letting Go of Hanging On

So, I'm sure you've noticed it... I've not been myself lately. That's what my husband said loud and clear the other night. Then I admitted to him that a part of me felt as if it left when our baby did. I started thinking about who I was before there ever was a baby. Do you know how difficult that is? To imagine yourself BEFORE the loss of a child?

Well, here I go. I was so happy. I had been married 10 months to my husband, and I could not be more in love. I was looking forward to date nights on Fridays and post-it note love letters every single day. I was learning to cook... It wasn't always successful but I was trying. I was anxious about getting pregnant and had taken a NUMBER of pregnancy tests in the hope of becoming so. I was a friend. People came to me for advice and they often listened to what I had to say. I was joyous. I knew that my life had meaning, though I didn't know what it was, and I was thrilled to see what God had in store. I was a teacher. I loved everything about this classroom, yet I knew God was calling me out of it. These kids were interesting and awesome, and they brightened each day with their quirky looks and hilarious stories. I enjoyed listening to and singing music, looking at and taking pictures, and I absolutely adored polka dots.

That was then.

I am overwhelmed just to get out of bed for fear of thinking of him. I feel suffocated in a classroom full children because none of them are mine. I cry at any talk of pregnancy or just a simple photo of a baby. Baby showers scare me. I am frightened to talk about children. I'm afraid of even discussing babies because I know people feel as though I'm crazy. People walk around me as if I'm surrounded by egg shells. They talk behind my back for fear of not hurting my feelings. I cry all the time. I can't even sing a song at church because the thought of Heaven sometimes hurts because he's there and I'm not. Prayers are difficult, school is harder, and polka dots are driving me nuts.

See, this is now.

I do not want to be this person I've become anymore. I long to move on and feel excitement again over the HOPE of one day becoming a parent. It's not over. I STILL have that chance, that opportunity, even though I've acted as though it's over for me. I want to be a wife again, one who loves unconditionally and goes to bed loving rather than crying herself to sleep. I want my friendships back. I know I don't necessarily even know how to be one, but I want to try. I want to rejoice in my suffering. There are far worse circumstances than mine. My life is not over. I don't want to be like this anymore. Will you PLEASE pray for me? Help me fight this silly battle I've faced for 71 days... I HAVE to let him go. I've been hanging on for too long, and it's time to let go and give God what He deserves:

Praise. "The Lord gave and has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." He gave me a child, and He took him to Heaven; it's up to me to praise Him for it.

This Side of Heaven

I know I've talked about Ethan often, but I can't help but think of him everyday. It seems as if he just could be in the other room, but then I realize God has taken him and I am left with this deafening silence and unbearable emptiness. I am not sad that he's gone, because I know his reward in Heaven is FAR GREATER than anything Brian and I could have given him here. Yet my heart aches for him and longs to hold him on THIS SIDE of Heaven...

I know that this isn't possible. I know that God has put 17 (seventeen may be a slight exaggeration but ONLY slight) different pregnant women around me to help me understand that our time is not "this time." I know that there are children in my life everyday and I have no reason to complain, but when I think that none of these are mine, I can't help but feel the pain of losing Ethan all over again.

I know that my fear of babies since losing him is irrational. I get completely overwhelmed when I see a baby boy or the clothes I "might have" bought for him or hear a child cry. I passed a little boy in a brown and turquoise polka dot stroller the other day and nearly choked 1) because of the baby himself, 2) because who would have imagined a boy's stroller in polka dots, and 3) Heaven only knows that that could have been mine! All of this sounds crazy, and I realize it. But then again, until you've experienced it for yourself, which I pray NEVER has to happen for you, you'll soon learn that all of these things are completely normal.

I know I'll hold him one day. I know he'll show us around Heaven, and that, in the mean time, he's in the upmost care. He's with MY FATHER. Why am I so sad about that? Why can I not look at a baby without seeing him? Why is holding a baby such a fear now?

I know that these have been my thought pattern for the past 2 months. I'm not saying it's okay but it is what it is. God has a funny way of showing you to move on from certain things...

I sat at the zoo today with my Kindergarteners when a dear friend and chaperone brought her little baby girl, Eden, over and sat her in my lap. Eden can't be more than 4-5 months old, but when this friend was learning of her girl in the womb, Brian and I were discussing names in case something should happen. Eden was one of those names! I was completely scared to death to touch her, let alone HOLD HER. But as I did, I realized there was a reason for all of this. I don't understand it, and I never will on this side of Heaven. It's not for me to question. It's for God above to work out and show me what time is "the right time." But just in case he doesn't know:

Ethan, Mommy misses you on this side of Heaven.

God Knows Who You Are

I have really had a lot of time to think about how much God knows about me. It's overwhelming at times, thinking that every thought I have, He knew it before I could even speak it. Every time I hear my Pop pray, he begins by saying, "All-wise, all-knowing and wise, Heavenly Father..." I've sometimes questioned the possibility of an "all-knowing" God. Yet this week, I'm so thankful that He is.

On Friday, as I talked in the office with my principal for only 15 minutes, a third grade student was stealing my cell phone and $12 from my purse. I came back to my classroom to discover that these things were missing, and in a panic, went speed-walking back to the office. However, just the day before, a "suspect" had been accused of taking $45 from the teacher across the hall. Sure, this gave me an idea of who it was, but I didn't know for sure. This strange sense that I had been violated in some way came over me.

All I was able to do in the circumstance was panic. I went to Verizon to suspend the phone and possibly get a new one. That turned out being a huge ordeal as I wasn't actually named on our account. It was awful; Brian was out of town and unable to help, so a fellow friend and teacher drove me around working all of this out.

Looking back, I realize how ridiculous all of this was. In His Word, God says, "In this world you will have tribulation, but take heed; I have overcome the world (John 16:33)." There was no need for my dismay or being fearful. "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7)." Why was I so frightened at the fact that a 10 year old had taken something of mine? I have no idea. I wondered often over the weekend if that child felt guilty or if he worried over what would happen to him if he were caught. This was not for me to know because my Heavenly Father knew it all.

He saw the child's face as he walked into my room.
He knew that the child would not feel remorse.
He realized that the child needed help.
He understood the child's heart.
He was angry with his actions.
He knew that His judgment on him would be stiff.
He also realized that his punishment here would be small.
He was working in my heart.
He helped the child's parent find the money and my phone.
He was disappointed when I didn't trust that He could.
He probably laughed when my principal handed it to me.
He knows how scared I am to leave my doors unlocked.
He keeps them safely secured even when they are wide open.
He feels my broken heart.
He rejoices when I think of Ethan in Heaven.
He smiles when I love on my husband.
He is put to tears when I praise His name.
He is anxious to see me put my trust in Him.
He is waiting for me to understand Him more.
He wants me to open His pages more often.
He asks that I let it go.
He is proud as I smile at the child who took my things.
He knows that I can be a testimony of His grace.
He knows about my disbelief when I'm walking away.
He feels the readiness I'm experiencing.
He hears my prayers but is already in the works.
He knows exactly who I am.

As angry as I was, I thought about how sorry I felt for this little boy. How lonely he must be and how starved for attention he is. It broke my heart. I am mad, but the emotions I feel are only a piece of what that child hurts with. My God is longing to show His face in this situation, and I am praying that it will be me. Remember today that God knows who you are, and He loves you for it anyway.

The Things I Should Have Said

Have you ever been through a situation, then, after having stepped away from it, realized that there were some things that you left unsaid? It's happened to me more times than not. I'm terrible about saying exactly what I think, and unfortunately, I've hurt some people with this character trait of mine. Lately, however, I have not said some things that I KNOW I should have when the Lord was leading me to do so.

So I guess you're thinking that I have started writing to make things right and to FINALLY say what I should have... Well, you'd be exactly right. Except it's not going to be what you think it is. I just hope you'll forgive me for opening my heart before you...

When you took care of me after the surgery, I didn't realize how blessed I was; to have the kind of love you possessed even overwhelmed me. Every act of service you performed and every word you didn't say, they went unnoticed at the time. The nights you allowed me to cry myself to sleep as you stayed awake simply praying without ceasing for my brokenness were so unbelievably considerate. The bitterness you have seen has been unbearable at times, and the words that have been thrown at you in anger were unacceptable. Yet, you stood by and loved me nonetheless. As I ached for my arms to be filled, you held me. You were angry at times, but you never showed it. You've shown your faith in our future by not letting go. You've loved with an unconditional love through my darkest days. You've seen the miracles God has performed and trusted that there would be more. You've listened as I poured my heart out in frustration. You've trusted my decisions, but led me to believe in God's faithfulness. You've had faith when I've had none. You've picked up ALL of my slack, and moved on without asking more. You have proven yourself time and time again. You've loved the unlovable. You've been my biggest encouragement, and you have believed in me. You deserve more love. You should have all that I have to give. You are better than 10 sons (1 Samuel 1:8), but without doubt, would be an amazing parent to all of them. You make me want to stop grieving because of your joy. You help me to see that Ethan was a gift, and nothing can take that away. You love my hurting heart and pray for its healing. You are everything a best friend should be. You don't hear these things enough from me, and I'm sorry.

These are the things I should have said to my husband for the past 53 days. I'm sorry it took me so long.

To Heaven and Back, Brian.
I love you.

Even a Heart Needs a Break

"...This can be nothing but sadness of heart."
Nehemiah 2:2

I don't know how much more I can take, and yet I know I can face it all with God as my strength and shield. It's overwhelming at times, this sadness I seem to face. The ironic part is that I feel guilty for being sad. God never meant for His children to be anything less than joyful, but I can't seem to let go. I have a great excitement about what must be over this strange, upsetting feeling I've been experiencing.

I've been reading Psalm just to make me feel somewhat normal. Reason being? It's the one chapter in the bible where there is great sadness. The cries and sounds of despair cry out in its midst, and the Lord hears their prayers. I think that maybe I believed that something within myself had let my faith decrease, and that's just not true. Just because I'm saddened does not mean I have any less faith. Did you know that in the Old Testament, people grieved for up to 40 days... Jesus even grieved, even when He KNEW that in minutes He Himself would bring Lazarus back to life, "Jesus wept (John 11:35)." Also, I see no instance in which God didn't respond to those who grieved. "Those who sow in tears will reap with cries of joy (Ps 126:5)." This is His promise. He doesn't want us to feel the sorrow His Son faced, that is why Christ died, to bear our sins and griefs. However, I deeply believe that God will bless those who trust in them through their despair. I HAVE to think on this and trust His Word.

My heart just seems to stay sad. I'll go through seasons of happiness but underneath it all, I still can't get past the looming emotion. How long must my heart grieve? I know many wonder about me. I just wanted to make some things clear and ask a few requests...

-Please don't count me as weak simply because I cry.
-Please don't question my faith because I know God will provide comfort.
-Please don't say, "You'll have a baby soon," because you don't actually know that.
-Please, if you're worried about hurting my feelings, talk to me.
-Please realize I'm fragile, but I'm not a piece of glass. I won't break if you discuss babies with me, but I might cry; it's just my heart grieving my child.
-Please talk about this with me if you feel led.
-Please understand that I NEED to say his name. I miss him, and though I may cry when I say it, I'm rejoicing that he was and is.
-Please know that I feel your pain too. My burden is NO bigger than yours. If you need my prayers, PLEASE ask of me to pray. I will and can despite my loss.
-Please spend time with me if you can. I need you. Yes, you.
-Please forgive me if I'm harsh, if I say nothing, if I cry, if I don't attend your special events, if I seem distant... I don't mean to be. I long to be involved again, but there are moments when I can't.
-Please read Job. I sometimes feel just like him. No, I haven't exactly lived blameslessly before the Lord, and I haven't lost all that I have. But I have tasted death firsthand, and I have been tempted by the devil and tried by my Lord. I TRY to live after losing Ethan as Job, praising God for his life but saddened by the loss.
-Please respect my time away and with my husband.
-Please don't forget about me.
-Please know that I am so happy for you if you are pregnant or have children. Your joys with your children make you beautiful, and I one day hope to learn from you.
-PLEASE, please, please pray for me. I want to live in a state of love, joy, and peace, and I know I haven't lately. Pray for these three things I long to have.

Thank you for reading. May God bless you today.

The More I Do, The More I Remember

Do you remember that saying that goes something like, "If something's bothering you, get busy... You'll forget about it in no time." I always thought that was the most ridiculous saying because if something's really on your mind, there's hardly anything that can keep you from it. I've had this hit me just in the past 2 days... Losing this baby has really opened my eyes, and as time has gone by (considering we would be about 14 weeks now), the simple thought of "him" usually brings me to tears.

The past two days have been different. It hasn't been tears or complete sadness. I've looked back on more memories than I even knew I had. I've thought about the moment I decided to take a pregnancy test, talking to Stephanie. I remembered seeing the two lines and not having meant to, I told Brian I hadn't looked. I can still picture the look on Brian's face, maybe more shock than anything. I recall how unsure we were, going to Walgreen's after dinner that night to buy a SECOND digital test. I laugh when I think about how quick it popped up, "Pregnant." I remember wondering, in the first week after finding out (week 3) if it would be a girl, but hoping for Brian's firstborn BOY. I remember being so excited to gain weight! I imagined how to rearrange our house, and what the baby's room would look like (a creation room, with animals galore, and of course, scripture and dots on the wall). I remember thinking I was a complete idiot for buying a crib set without Brian and before I made it past the first trimester. I think about counting down the days until the first ultrasound. I remember seeing that little speck of white area that was our baby. It was all so amazing, and still, completely is! What a God I serve!

I do hurt, and believe it or not, the more I do, the more I think about it all. There's so much sadness, pain, loss, and happiness, joy, and hope knowing that it was ALL for God's glory and that Heaven is a place I can't wait to be. But through it all, the more I remember, I realize how much more I love my husband. What he's dealt with in the sadness, pain, loss, even in the happiness, joy, and hope is more than I can imagine. Although we've both lost deeply, he's had to watch me suffer. He's loved me every single second of complete misery.

In just 11 days, we will be celebrating our 1st anniversary on March 31st. I've thought on how much has happened in this year; it seems as if we've been through every valley there is and yet love has been the driving force. God's love at that! Please continue to pray for us that we will trust that God's providence is PERFECT and that in the next year He will continue to pour His blessings over us, whether they be valleys or mountains... The more we go through, the more we can remember to thank God.

Where've You Been?

I've been asked this question for weeks, and I have even asked it myself...

Not much explanation is needed for where I've been. I've been here; yes, maybe I've not been myself and have definitely felt as though I was going through A LOT of the motions. I'll admit that. It seems as if I've walked through this valley (and continue to) because I HAD to. Don't get me wrong, I know that God never puts more on us than we can handle, but I believe He definitely uses the trials to test our faith in Him. To be completely honest, my faith has ultimately been tested. My "want to" about anything is much weaker. I am so tired even though I've done nothing. I've done a lot of things out of obligation - I have a responsibility to be at work, church, etc., but mostly, I've done things WHILE completely feeling sadness. I truly want to trust HIM more than ever, have a stronger faith, and complete patience in God and His timing.

I think I've asked God, "Where've YOU been?" all month. It seems as if He's not been here, but as I've always been told, "When you are wondering about where God is, check your own position. God never moves; He is unchanging." God's been so faithful to us. Sure, there are times I wonder why this has to happen or why we've had to face this certain situation, but God has His ultimate plan. He never said that the cross would not get heavy, and it definitely has. My heart has been the lowest it has ever been, but God's love is there to pick me up again.

What I've learned through everything, from withdrawing, loss, and sickness, is that God's timing is always perfect. His plan is amazing, so much so that I don't and can't understand it. These valleys, as I call them, are just steps before the mountain. God is faithful, so REALLY, the question is, "F A I T H, where've you been?"

Sitting in the Presence of the Lord

I never imagined that letting go of something you never really had would be this difficult. After having surgery on Monday, my emotions have been very hard to handle. I've felt heartless at times, wondering why at all I haven't cried since Monday, and at other times, I feel so sad that it seems that all I can do is cry. That's actually what happened last night.

I guess I began thinking about its little hands and feet, and how we never got to see them. I started wondering which one of us he would have looked like, and yes, we believe, and have since learning of the pregnancy, this precious baby would have been a boy. I realized we had nothing to remember him by except a Willow Tree figurine that Brian gave me on my birthday when we were 6 weeks and 1 day pregnant.



We have learned since then that my birthday was more than likely the day our little one passed. Our last ultrasound showed the baby being only 6 weeks and 1 day old, when in reality we were almost 10 weeks. Letting us know this information has made things on us much easier. God always opens one door when He closes another.

I feel a bit empty inside. I know that statement can be taken literally if it need be, but what I mean is that something we had longed for and gotten so excited about is no longer within me. It's like a piece of you is missing, just gone. It's so hard to explain unless you've experienced it, but I know many have. It's just a matter of letting go and trusting God.

The procedure from what I understand went well. I've been very slow-moving, needing help to get from place to place. My throat has ached since having the tube inserted and removed. My stomach has been so sore... I can't imagine what I would have felt like if I went back to school today. I just wasn't ready yet. I plan to return to work tomorrow, if the Lord allows. I've learned to depend on my Heavenly Father to take care of our child, and I've learned to depend on Him and my husband to take care of me. The Lord has been good to us as strange as that sounds. He's filled our home with friends and family, flowers and food. All have been so loving and supportive. They have lifted us up when we couldn't lift ourselves, and I imagine there will be more days than not that we will need that lifting again... How good it is to be a child of God, to feel His presence and love in our home, to know that our child is sitting with Jesus even now. How blessed we are to already have one child in Heaven!

Job 1:21b states, "The LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD."

Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose."

The Lord Gives AND Takes Away

And I've learned how true this scripture truly is in just one day...

Going for our second appointment and ultrasound in just 8 days yesterday, I've seen the miracle of life quickly taken away. We learned last Friday that we possibly had a "bad pregnancy," and this Friday we were told the baby had passed. We are saddened yes, but we know that our precious child is in the hands of God. What an amazing feeling that is! It's hard at the same time to understand it or even want to, but I know that my God is in control. How much sweeter is Heaven today? Much more than the day before.

Life is fragile, and God has given it to us as a gift. Take the time to love. Share laughter. Enjoy your quiet moments. Spend days with loved ones. Treasure your friendships. Be an honest person. Live life as Jesus did. Share God's greatest gift. Rejoice in sufferings. Pray without failure. Remember that God is NOT the author of confusion. Live without questions. Stop worrying over yesterday. Cherish today. Learn from the valleys. Look forward to the mountains. Have faith the size of a mustard seed. Love like Christ. Thank the Lord for His gifts to us. Thank Him when He chooses to take them away. Remember that HE is in control.

Thank you for your prayers. Surgery on Monday at 8 a.m. Remember us then, please.
May God's peace be with you today and forever,
Jenna