God is Here

Update on Samuel's Condition:

We respectfully ask that you do not mention his condition to our children.

It came as a shock when Samuel started waking in the middle of the night on September 16th.  The first time it happened, I was in the laundry room folding clothes when he walked over to me without saying a word.  He began to cry but never once looked at me.  The next time it occurred was 5 days later, except he didn't get up.  He sat up in the bed, screaming my name over and over.  I ran to his side, but he never looked at me.  He went right back to sleep.  The following time was the same way, different word/phrase, and Brian handled it just as I had, reassuring him that we were there, laying him down when he calmed, and watching him as he fell back to sleep.  The fourth time was very similar.  We began to assume his migraine medication was causing him to have night terrors, and we had called his neurologist with this concern.  She had scheduled an EEG for late October to check.

However, things changed on October 6th.  With Brian out of town for a conference, Samuel woke up screaming as usual.  I went running.  He said my name over and over, but he never looked at me or turned his head.  He was sitting straight up. His hands were cupped, but he was putting one on top of the other, over and over again.  Then, I noticed that his legs were stiff and toes were curled under, and I started to feel overwhelmed as he repeated my name.  I kept reminding him that, "Mommy is here.  Can you see Mom?  I am right here.  Are you hurting?  Are you okay?"  It felt like it went on for eternity.  I know at some point I started getting worried, and I thought back to the times in which we taught Samuel verses to relieve him from thinking about his migraines.  I was so focused on what was happening to Samuel that those verses weren't coming to mind, but this phrase was, "God is here."  So, I continued to tell Samuel, "Samuel, Mom is here, and God is here, do you know that?!  He's here."  Eventually, he stopped crying, and the intensity ceased.  He didn't lay down, though; he just slouched over.  I carefully laid him down and watched as he continued to breathe.  He never once looked at me.  

I texted a dear friend because Brian didn't answer, and she helped me to make the decision to call the on-call neurologist.  He instructed me to sleep near Samuel, watch his breathing, and call our neurologist the next morning.  

The next morning proved difficult for Samuel as his right leg was very weak.  I soon called the neurologist.  She got us an EEG for the next day (10/8).  Within a few days, we had the results.  His night terrors were actually seizures.  We had an MRI (10/14) a few days later to check his cyst and chiari which showed no significant changes.  He had a terrible time with the MRI and was incredibly nauseous following it.  Days following were fast, and the appointments and calls were many.  We've learned that it seems he is having partial, temporal lobe seizures, and because he's had many at this point, he is considered epileptic.  He has had to change medicine, but because after he changed it, he had two episodes in a row, we had to double the dosage.  He's doing better now and not had an episode/seizure since this past weekend when he had a few.  

We will need to know for sure what kind of seizures he is having by having an extended hospital stay at the end of November.  This gives the medication time to work and him time to prepare for the idea of staying.  Thankfully, the doctors do not believe his cyst and chiari are connected or causing the seizures.

I will be honest... this has not been easy on our family.  It's surprising to us, but it doesn't surprise the Lord.  It has taken our breath away and scared us.  A LOT.  Watching our child hurt and suffer without being able to help is hard.  It's reminded us to remain on our knees in prayer and to ask the Lord (and our family and friends) for HELP and for PRAYER as well.  We cannot do this on our own.  However, our God is big, and He is mighty to save and heal.  I sometimes think that we are stuck in this situation, but this is not the end.  It's only the beginning of the story on the way to God's glory. 

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us. 

Romans 8:18

Please consider our Samuel when you pray.  We're clinging to the fact that God is here.

In His name,
The Johnson Family

Dear Mema

I can remember the first time I met you, Mema (pronounced mee-maw).  It was in February of 2007, and you were celebrating your 50th wedding anniversary to Granddaddy.  You weren't too sure of me, and understandably so, seeing as your grandson had told you just three weeks prior that he'd become engaged to a young woman at church who happened to be me.  We hadn't dated, and I'm sure your had your thoughts and opinions on that.  However, in our first meeting, I could tell you were an incredible woman.

As years passed, you proved my first thoughts on you to be true.  Whenever we visited home, you made sure to have breakfast on the table, clean sheets on the beds, and fresh linens ready for use.  You didn't talk much, but when you did, your opinion was blunt, honest, and sometimes, a little uncanny.  I learned that you liked things the way they are, didn't need anything new, and preferred your old bathrobe to any fancy, new one that we could purchase for you.  You liked pictures around your house, coffee in the pot, and your television always on.  You kept the house warm (almost blazing at times) and the stove full.  You said, "Hello," louder than I'd ever heard anyone over the phone, and you loved to talk about the rain, your crops, and whether or not we would be home soon.

Over time, I grew on you.  You became more excited to see us come, especially when we first learned we were pregnant just months after Granddaddy passed away.  You were anticipating that baby as much as we were, and when we lost it, I believe you hurt some too.  When I became pregnant again, you were ready, both in word and deed.  Your comments about my weight gain were hurtful and hilarious.  I could have lost a pound, and you would say I had gained ten.  You made me laugh by cooking my favorite foods, after learning that, although a country girl, I had no taste for beans, greens, or cornbread.  I could expect a full pot of mashed potatoes, a blue bowl full of green beans, and a dish full of sweet potatoes, fixed better than anyone could ever fix them.  You loved me in ways I didn't realize then.  When Daniel was finally born, I can remember you coming to visit just three weeks after he was born.  I was pretty "hefty" as you said, but you were smitten over Daniel.  I watched as you beamed with joy leaning over his baby swing.

You are a grandmother in every sense of the word.  You love your grandbabies and great-grandbabies with all you have in you.  You provide for them in every way you can.  You fix them their favorite waffles with tons of butter and syrup then make chocolate milk and keep it coming all day long.  You always have animal crackers and Cheerios for the little ones, and your closet is full of old toys to keep them entertained, although they are the same toys that have been there since I joined the family.  The old John Deere four-wheeler toy you have is a favorite of the boys (where is it as of lately?!), and you laugh so hard watching Daniel, Samuel, and Elias attempt to ride it around the house.  You love them, and they love you.

Mema, I realize that it's almost time for you to go home yourself.  You've proven yourself determined and strong over the past three weeks.  You suffered a stroke, were paralyzed on your left side, and were not swallowing, and yet, a week later, you decided you didn't want a feeding tube by ripping it out and then showed you were strong enough to go home by beginning to eat and respond.  You've been at home for a week and have done really well, so well in fact, that the boys and I came to visit you!  Daniel and Samuel had made you cards, and you thanked them for them!  The boys couldn't understand why you weren't able to get up, and Mema, I wish we knew for sure.

However, I know that God is getting ready to call you home.  I don't want you to go, but I don't want you to stay.  I hope you see Granddaddy, Thomas (your son), and Cindy (your daughter-in-law).  I want you to see the babies that we never got to meet here on Earth.  I want you to walk again.  I want you to smile and talk again.  I want you to be the wonderful woman I met 6 years ago on your 50th anniversary.  I want you to get to be YOU again, but in Heaven, you'll be an even better you, and I couldn't ask for anything more!

The memories I hold in my heart of you are precious, but knowing you'll soon be seeing Jesus makes me so excited I can hardly stand it.  Please, please, don't worry about us.  We'll be okay; you've raised your family in such a way that there's no way they wouldn't be.  They are strong, determined, and grounded in Christ.  Go home to Him.  Until we meet again...

Mema and Granddaddy on their 50th Anniversary

February 2007

Mema, Brian, and I at our wedding shower

March 2007

Our Wedding and Both Sides of the Families

March 31, 2007 

Holding Daniel for the first time

May 2009

Sweet Mema

May 2009

Meeting Elias

May 2012

Mema with all 7 of her great-grandchildren

July 2012

Brian and his Mema at his Master's Degree Ceremony

December 2012

Daniel loves his Mema!

Visiting May 2013

Brian, Samuel, and Mema

May 2013

Heaven has in Store...

what thou has lost.

My sister gave me the most beautiful necklace in honor of our sweet baby.

We have received the most amazing love and support from our family and friends since losing Elisabeth Joy.  From cards and calls to dinners and visits, we have felt God's presence since the moment we realized we were pregnant and even since the devastating miscarriage.

I never even suspected it this time around.  I really didn't.  Despite my first pregnancy ending in miscarriage, I delivered two healthy babies with little to no problems, and losing this fourth child never entered my mind.  That is what peace is. 

God has comforted my heart since that first miscarriage.  Yes, I realize I have two children and a lot of prayer to thank for that in some ways, but more importantly, I have Christ to give all of the glory to.  Somehow, despite this loss, I have found it exciting imagining what all Heaven has in store for me.  I'm not ready to go by any means, but if God should decide my time has come, I actually am looking forward to Heaven a little bit more since it gained our "Joy."

Everyday since the miscarriage has been filled with such joy...  It only seems fitting that this is what God gave me to name this child.  Seriously, I have watched the two children God has given me grow and play with all the life that is within them.  They have filled my broken heart with such laughter that I cannot help but be more joyous than ever.  Life is good.  Heaven is full.  My heart is home.



Thank you for your responses regarding our loss.  You'll never know what it means for you to mention us and our children (all of them) in prayer.  Thank you for your cards, calls, visits, dinners, and love. 

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.

I Know You're There

In anticipation of what is to come, I sometimes get anxious and begin focusing on what lies ahead instead of what is here and now. I forget the words of my Father which say, "Be anxious for nothing but by prayer and supplication make your requests known unto God." I often hear myself saying, "Lord, give me this, if it's in Your will." I never once think to ask for anything. I just expect it of Him, like He owes me a favor.

That's the most pitiful part of how I've been thinking lately. He owes me something... I've felt as though He's taken enough from me, and if I started a list, it would go on for days. I haven't been able to grasp fully what it means when Job said, "The Lord giveth and taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord." I think because I've become so familiar with the giveth and taketh part that I am sick to go on any further in the verse.

If you do a job, you expect to receive pay for it. If you offer a gift, you want a "thank you" for it. If you give your time, you hope to receive recognition for doing so. I think that very same mind frame has gotten me into a lot of trouble in my relationship with Christ. I find myself thinking, "Lord, you asked me to quit my job, give me something else to do. Lord, you took my baby, give me another one now. Lord, our grandparents and father have passed, don't You owe me anything for that?!"

God doesn't owe me anything. Truthfully, He's already given me the gift of eternal life, what more do I need?! Well, I (think I) need more friends, another child, more time and opportunity, etc. Why should I receive anything else? What have I done for Him? God is not a "give and take" service; He is a Sovereign God who loves me unconditionally. He doesn't expect me to understand His reasoning, and He knows I am going to be doubtful after each thing is out of my hands. I believe that He does, however, expect and hopes for my faithfulness.

And I'm, for one, lacking in that area, in a BIG way. Let me explain myself a little, simply because I know it is shameful. I've waited five months for a child, I've waited 2 months for God to show me what it is I'm supposed to be doing, and I've gone 382 days without my Nana. I am angry that I have to go without. It feels as if He's taken the best from me, and I feel disappointed when there aren't two pink lines or when I don't have another job or because I miss my family. Do you hear me? I have gotten back to the point like I had in high school with the "It's All About Me" attitude. My faith is gone because I'm focused on what I don't have rather that trusting in what I've already been given.

God knows the plans He has for me (Jeremiah 29:11), but no where in scripture does He promise to give, give, and give some more. He doesn't intend for me to know what lies ahead, nor does He offer me the things I want so desperately because He knows that they will also become a means of doubting Him. God has perfect intentions in all He does, in all He gives, AND in all He takes away. It's a hard line to swallow, but I have to realize it's not about me. It's about His plan, His timing, and His sovereign will, and I just have to know that He's there. And He is...

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."