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. 

Can I Share More?

I had a feeling I was pregnant when we traveled to Gatlinburg in the middle of November, but didn't know for sure until I started craving apples later in that week.  On the way home from the trip, we stopped at Dollar General and bought a test.  To our surprise, we saw a second, faint pink line appear.  It was faint, so we waited until the next morning to take another test, which proved negative.  Days later, I was still late, and got the notion to buy a digitial pregnancy test, which after reading the results, Brian and I were certain that "Pregnant" could not be mistaken.

We were shocked.  Stunned.  Silenced.  We couldn't believe the Lord was blessing us with another pregnancy.  We were so amazed that we decided to keep this pregnancy a secret until we got more information from our doctor.  I was tired over the next few weeks.  Very tired.  I didn't have any other symptom other than wanting to eat apples.  Have I mentioned I highly dislike apples?!  With both boys' pregnancies, I craved apples. 

When we went for our first appointment, we were given the due date of July 22, 2011.  We also had an ultrasound.  According to my last cycle, I should have been approximately 8-9 weeks, but the baby measured at 6 weeks and 1 day.  The doctor didn't show any cause for concern other than our dates may be off and decided it'd be best for me to come back in two weeks for a second ultrasound.  We weren't exactly worried, but we could not make the dates work in our minds.  We had actually thought that my previous cycle was a miscarriage because it was so strange, but with this new pregnancy, there was no way it could have been.  So we waited...

However, two days before my scheduled ultrasound and while visiting family in West TN, I began bleeding.  It was off and on for the next few hours, so I didn't worry too much.  I just wanted to get home.  When we left that night, my husband's aunt Christy asked if I had news to share...  I'm wishing now that I would have, but I was spotting and wasn't sure of anything.

We called the doctor the next morning and had our ultrasound that afternoon.  The news was not good.  We were, in fact, almost 11 weeks along, but the baby had passed at 6 weeks and 1 day.   I was in the process of miscarrying.  The pain was excruciating, but my heart was calm.  I was hurt and upset, but so peaceful.  I laid in bed that night crying over the loss of this child when the Lord spoke Psalm 30:5 to me, "For His anger is but for a moment, His favor is for life; Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning."  Oh, how sweet those words were to a grieving mother! 

As I waited on the Lord that night, He gave me the name, Elisabeth Joy, for our baby.  I immediately texted it to Brian as he was studying in his office across the hall, and we both cried.

The next two days were hard.  In and out of the hospital with pain and enduring the loss of what would have been our fourth child.  In February 2008, we miscarried our first, Ethan Caleb.  In April 2009, we delivered Daniel Bejamin ,who is now 20 months old.  In May 2010, we welcomed Samuel Levi, who is now 7 months old.  We would have expected Elisabeth Joy in July 2011, but God's plans were different and we look forward to meeting her one day.

It sounds difficult and my heart may seem sad, but it isn't.  My heart is full with what God has done for me.  He has seen fit to bless my husband and me with a fourth child.  We now have two babies in Heaven.  We also have two amazing babies here with us.  In all honesty, I have looked at Daniel and Samuel in a different light since losing this baby...  I've noticed how blessed I am to have them, what gifts they truly are, and when God gives us children, they are only ours to borrow.  I am excited (and scared) to share this story with you because it will be heart-breaking to some, but to others, it will be encouragement. 

God has given me these four children, whether on earth or in Heaven, as part of His story to share through me.  I want to inspire others to trust Him, take Him at His Word, and love Him for what He does and does not do.  I want to let Him shine through me be it through tragedy and loss or in joy and happiness.  I am His, and whatever I have or have been given is His to take.  What an honor to realize that through this baby...  I had to share her story.

Elisabeth Joy

Wish You Were Here

Sometimes I imagine talking to her now that I have a son myself.  One that's rambunctious, energetic, and playful, just like I've been told her son was.  I imagine getting to hug her again, sharing dresses and shoes, and even sitting together over a glass of orange Gatorade.  I picture calling her for advice on how to cook Brian's favorite meal and for direction on how to keep a wild child calm.  She has been there.

But now, she's not here.

She left us a year ago today.  She left behind two amazing children, who between the two of them, have given her six grandchildren:  4 who are here, 1 who is with her in Heaven, and 1 who is on his way.  She left behind 3 little ones who called her, "Nana."  They now live in the house she and her precious husband shared.  She also left behind 1 she never met.  She died just 5 weeks before he was born.  And she'll won't be here for this 1 who's on the way... 

However, she's meeting the 1 grandbaby we never did.  When I miscarried, I can remember her being very quiet about it.  She hugged me, but she honestly never discussed it with me.  I don't know if it's because my sorrow made her uncomfortable or because it was difficult for her as well.  I can remember months later, when I became pregnant with our second, that she said, "It is finally time."  I recall her telling me right after Brian and I were married to wait at least a year before getting pregnant, and when I miscarried before our first anniversary, she later told me that it just wasn't time.  That statement from her cut like a knife, but a year after her passing, I'm thankful to have that memory of her. 

Why?  Because she was honest.  She was blunt.  She sometimes hurt your feelings.  Yet she had an incredible way of wanting more of her...  At least, that's how I am feeling now.  Oh, to have just one day with her.  To introduce her to Daniel.  To have her speak to her grandchild in my womb.  To open the fridge to find she has bought Coke in glass bottles and to see the cabinet full of cereal just for us.  To have her tell me what I'm doing right...  and what I'm doing wrong.  To teach me how to cook.  To shop until we dropped.  To just be here. 

Yet, now that she is gone, I'm happy for her.  I'm even somewhat jealous.  She's in the place we all long to go, and she's now happier than I'll ever be while here.  There are days when I cannot wait to be there with her, but for the most part, I'm selfish and wish she was here... 

In memory of my mother-in-law, Cindy

The Kind of Son I Hope to Have

I have imagined for eight, long months what my son will be like. I have envisioned his smile, pictured his nose, imagined his hair, and thought about his character. I have learned that he is a night owl and does not enjoy sitting still. He has energy like no one I know, and he is big, healthy, and strong. That is about all I know. However, I cannot help but wonder what he will really be like when he arrives. I cannot fathom what he may be like as a little boy running around in the backyard with his daddy, and I cannot wait to see, if the Lord allows, what he'll be when he grows up to be an adult. But this past week, I was honored to watch a young man be the kind of son I hope to one day have.

He was handsome. He dressed in his brightly-colored shirts and ties, and he stood tall in front of a group of innumerous people. He smiled with grace and dignity. His piercing, blue eyes, filled with tears as he often looked straight into mine.

He believed in prayer. He began sending emails as soon as he received the call that his 48-year-old mother had passed. He knew that the only things he truly needed were the prayers of saints and his heavenly Father. He stopped often throughout the week to pray; it was so encouraging and humbling to see his love for God.

He laughed wholeheartedly. He told stories of days past and recollected on the many memories with his mom. He joked about her quirky attitude and her stubborn ways. He grinned as he found things she had kept for years that he had given her.

He wept. I don't know many who didn't, but as he preached his mother's funeral, tears welled up in his eyes. He wasn't just crying because she was gone, he was devastated over all the lost family members in the chapel. He wasn't afraid to grieve or to show that he loved her by the teardrops streaming down his face.

He was strong. Oh, I cannot explain this fully, but imagine having just lost your grandfather, a baby, and father in less than two years and facing the death of your mother as well. He was so amazing in her absence. He held his sister, and he brought loving words to each of the 400+ people who entered the funeral home doors.

He remembered it all. He wore bright colors because his mother always loved them. He wanted the room filled with beautiful arrangements because she adored them. He asked for certain songs and particular people to be included in the funeral on her behalf. He recollected her favorite foods, endearing ways, and fascinating personality. It was if he hadn't forgotten a single day he'd had with her.

I wish I could spend days explaining how this man is exactly how I hope my soon-to-arrive son is, but I pray this is enough:

Elijah, when you find yourself looking for someone to be like or a person to model your life after, choose Jesus, and if that's too hard to do, sweet boy, look no further than your daddy. He'll lead you to Jesus, and he'll make sure you see who He longs to be like, his Lord. He loves you more than you know, and He longs to see you saved. Yes, your daddy is exactly the kind of son I hope you are, and I know his momma was proud to have.


In Memory of Brian's Momma and Elijah's Nana,
Cindy J. Johnson
April 9, 1960 - March 9, 2009

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.

It Really Hits Home

There are moments when things just really hit home. How about everytime I look back on this past February and remember losing Ethan? How about the moments when I look at any windshield recalling the wreck where I went through mine? How about the pictures I see of my Nana holding me as a little girl, knowing that she didn't know me for most of my life? How about when I walk past the pew on which I called out to the Lord and He saved my soul? Do you have moments like those? The ones that just really cause you to stop and think.

I'll admit I don't always look at everyone of those situations the way I should. It's easy to say that I thank God for the way He guided me in all of those circumstances, but it's much more difficult to admit that maybe, just maybe I disregard the fact that God had a hand in all of them. And he did.

Reading a certain Psalm this week really spoke to me. Beth Moore is teaching me (through her studies) that I must look deeper into these scriptures. Every single one has something to say to me, and God intended every word to hit home.

1-5 If God hadn't been for us —all together now, Israel, sing out!—
If God hadn't been for us
when everyone went against us,
We would have been swallowed alive
by their violent anger,
Swept away by the flood of rage,
drowned in the torrent;
We would have lost our lives
in the wild, raging water.

6 Oh, blessed be God!
He didn't go off and leave us.
He didn't abandon us defenseless,
helpless as a rabbit in a pack of snarling dogs.

7 We've flown free from their fangs,
free of their traps, free as a bird.
Their grip is broken;
we're free as a bird in flight.

8 God's strong name is our help,
the same God who made heaven and earth.


Now, I've not been swallowed up by anyone's anger, or thrown into a pack of dogs. I must say I've never once been in a flood or been tossed among waves. I certainly haven't been in ANYTHING'S fangs. But on the contrary, I HAVE been swallowed up in my own pride. I have been thrown into situations I wouldn't choose for myself. I've also been in some powerful storms in my life, and I have felt more than once that I was drowning in despair. Satan has had a hold on me, and his grip is more powerful than I am willing to confess.

That's not the point. Do you see what it says?! IF GOD HAD NOT BEEN FOR US... That's me. If God had not been for me... I've learned to think that one thing through. You know all of those scenarios that really hit home to me? Well, think of them like this...

If God had not been for me when I lost my child to miscarriage, I would still be lying in my bed weeping.

If God had not been for me when my head went through that windshield, I would no longer enjoy the breaths that I take.

If God had not been for me when my Nana was struggling from Alzheimer's, I would always question His purposes.

If God had not been for me on April 10, 1994, when I was saved, I would have never known Heaven as home.

God is for us. He's not against us. And though these trials continue to come, God is still for us. He's molding us into HIS image, and that cannot feel good. It's like putting a broken arm into a cast intending for the bone to heal, the means aren't pain-free. He's going to have to break us. He's going to have to tear me down. He's going to have to get me on my knees. Usually, it's in those moments that God really hits home.

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

Wrong Impression

I know what you've been thinking...

I know that you've worried about how I am and where I've been and what it is I've been doing since I lost my child a little over six months ago. I say that now, the part about my child, with such gratitude from the depths of my heart to the very heart of God. I've learned in the past months that only time can heal wounds of the deepest manner, and only God is capable of helping you understand the hurt, disappointment, and reasoning.

I know that in a few weeks, when his due date rolls around, how difficult it will be. I haven't doubted that at all, but what I have left is the wrong impression. As I grieved this loss in a very open manner, I seem to have given everyone the idea that I am weak, and believe me, I am. But not because I've loved and lost a child that was never really mine to hold.

I know that you may not understand this, but I am so grateful that God chose me. You see, it's taken me six months to realize it was ME he chose for this valley. He wanted ME to endure the pain and turn to Him. He longed for ME to love Him the way He does me. He ached when I did, and He rejoiced when I FINALLY realized it was ALL for His glory.

Maybe I've painted a negative picture of the grief I have had, and maybe I've left you with the impression that I wasn't strong enough to handle it all. Maybe you wondered if I was downcast or depressed, and maybe you've wondered whether or not I've realized that life is worth living.

It is. Every single second. Every single heartache. Every single disaster. Every single sadness. Every single loss. Every single miscarriage. It's worth it.

I have learned that we all have a season that is ours to live. Yours may not be what mine is at this very second. But God's grace is sufficient to get me through each season with more love and hope than I could have ever imagined.

Going through a season of loss has taught me that what you see isn't always what you get. On the outside, I've cried and been burdened and lived with a broken heart. On the inside, I'm rejoicing, because my child has already made it home. HOME! I can say that with all the joy I've ever experienced.

In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ, whom having not seen you love. Though now you do not see Him, yet believing, you rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory...
1 Peter 1:6-8


Maybe you've met me on a sad day, one where I was overcome with the tragedy of loss, and maybe you've spent an hour with me over coffee, one where you've heard me discuss this child I never embraced. But on neither of these days have I failed to mention my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

I've given the wrong impression. I've made it seem as though I'm getting through all of this on my own. I've made you think I'm terribly miserable and unmistakenly shaken. I've realized you talk about me to others, but never ask me how I really am. If you had, I'd give you this impression: my Lord is enough. That's all there is. Nothing more. Whatever I face and wherever I am, my Lord will see me through. I am overjoyed at the life that lies before me because my Lord is in control.

And that, my friends, is the impression I want to leave behind...

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."

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.

Down on My Knees

Do you remember how good you felt when that band-aid was placed upon your knee after having fallen off your bike? It wasn't as if anything miraculous had actually occurred; it was the simple thought of being taken care of, like that bandage would prevent more pain.

If you were like me in your younger years, it wouldn't be but a week later you were landing on that same spot before the scab was even gone. The hit you took hurt triple the pain you'd experienced before, but you found yourself avoiding those same circumstances in any way you possibly could.

NOT ME. I'd get right back on that bike and take the fall... a repeated number of times. I loved getting band-aid after band-aid and enjoyed even more the fact that my dad would be there taking care of it. He was also the one who encouraged me to get back up and try again. He'd tell me that if I wasn't bleeding that I'd be fine. He usually was right...

And my Father is telling me that I will be fine, but I feel as though I've been knocked down yet again. However, this injury is as heartbreaking as the last three. If you don't remember, just last July, my beloved Nana passed away after a long battle with Alzheimer's. Just a month later, Brian lost his God-fearing Grandaddy in a timely death. This past February, we learned that our firstborn child had been taken from the womb straight into Heaven. Just days ago, on Thursday, May 8th, we learned that Brian's dad of 48-years-old had not risen from his sleep.

Though I feel as though God has kicked me in the shins before the previous bruises had even healed, I realize there is a purpose. Maybe I am on my knees now to prove that God is sovereign, and He is in complete control. Maybe someone, sometime, somewhere will need me for the loss I've endured, and at that point, in God's glory, I'll be able to point them to the source of these sore areas.

In all of this, I think back to those days when daddy would pick me up and put me back on that purple bike; his unfailing love and encouragement taught me to keep going, and that in time, the pain would be worth it when I rode over the hill. My Heavenly Daddy is exactly the same. He knows how bad the hurts hurt, and He understands how weak my flesh has become. Yet He loves me enough to let me fall down time and time again so that in my weakness, He is made strong.

There is nothing like a wound that won't heal, but when God is your physician, He knows what you need. I'm taking my battered and bruised self to His feet, and I am going to get down on my bandaged knees.

In Memory of:
Thomas Benjamin Johnson
Ethan Caleb Johnson
Bennie Lara Johnson
Jodean Honeycutt

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.

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.

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.

A Heavy Heart

What's actually heavier than a heavy heart?

Throughout my years, I've never once found anything more difficult than a heart that's been broken, busy aching, or deeply burdened. I've had my share of all of these. The teenage years of dating taught me what a broken heart was. None of these proved serious, and eventually God showed up and showed me how silly my sadness was. My aching heart comes into play when I've seen or heard of something that upsets me. From childless marriages and lack of parenting, to this upcoming 2008 election and every evening news I watch, my heart just yearns for changes in these situations, yet my aching heart doesn't do anything for helping those involved. A burdened heart is one I'm quite familiar with.

I remember the first time I ever was burdened; it came when I was 10-years-old at church. The pastor had asked for a handshake from the church, and as I went around the circle, clasping hands with friends and the adults, my heart started feeling incredibly heavy. That was the moment when I realized that that heavy feeling I would sometimes get throughout my life would be the Holy Spirit moving in me. This, just so happened, to the be first time I ever experienced it. But Jesus said in Matthew 11:29-30, "Become my servants and learn from me. I am gentle and free of pride. You will find rest for your souls. Serving me is easy, and my burden is light." So immediately, I realized my condition: the Lord was working in my heart and offering His plan of salvation to me. It was nothing I had done to deserve Him, but He came to me. I humbly bowed and prayed for that burden to be lifted, and within minutes, He had taken my burden upon Himself, and I was saved and free.

I think now that then I thought my life would be free of burdens because of that moment. Don't get me wrong; it (my getting savedd) only happened once, and that's all I need to know that I have a home in Heaven. But my burdens continue. He often shows me that He's willing, but my flesh is weak (Mark 14:38). I look around my classroom even today and ponder how many of these precious children would come to know Him. It grieved my heart to think that very few would be taught the truth, that Jesus is the way, the TRUTH, and the life (John 14:6).

That's when I remembered a prayer I prayed many years ago... I guess it's not been that long, but I think back to a time when I was imagining what my future children's names would be... This was before there was our Ethan Caleb (who's now passed on to be with Jesus) and much earlier than there was a Brian and me. It was one of those moments in your teenage years when you think of all the creative names for children, and you sit and write them down, maybe in your Bible or in a journal, but you never forget about it. I had one of those times... I barely remember the names now, because God changes your plans whether it be for marriage and/or your children's names, but as I thought about my children-to-come, I prayed one simple prayer. It was something about how I wished that if my children were not going to be saved, I'd rather the Lord take them before they enter this world. How ironic that is to me now!

I have ached... and cried... and been angry... and spiteful... and bitter... and miserable... and so BROKEN since God took Ethan from us. It wasn't until today that God burdened me with that long-forgotten prayer of MINE. My eyes fill with tears as I type this, but I realize that God knows what He's doing. I've learned that it takes a burden to relieve another one, and my heart now understands that God knows best. It hurts and the pain is at times unbearable, but I know that whatever God does is beautiful in time.

There's nothing beautiful about heartache, my brokenness, or these burdens that come on ever so weighty, but God's Word says that "He hath made every thing beautiful in His time (Ecclesiastes 3:11)." In time, God will heal this wound just as he took that burden away so long ago. I am excited to see God's future plans for me, and I pray that I will wait in anticipation with a heart lifted up toward Him.

Jeremiah 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, PLANS TO GIVE YOU HOPE AND A FUTURE."

Looking Back, I See It All

As Brian and I celebrated our 1 year anniversary on Monday, March 31st, I was surprised at how quickly the memories flooded back. I imagined that I would forget most things, and believe I have, but as the date of our 1 year came around, it was amazing the little things I recalled about this past year.

I realized how:
intricately God had prepared our hearts for one another...
detailed His plan was to make us see what He saw...
He opened my eyes to my future husband while sitting in Starbucks...
quickly our wedding came together...
that beautiful day was perfectly detailed and uplifting to my Father...
time can change everything...
the loss of two loved ones can really bring you closer...
illness can cause the two of you to drift apart...
an endless amount of scheduled activities can make for an awesome summer...
a middle-schooler can change your attitude about children...
God speaks about your future while listening to a Sunday School lesson...
family can either make or break your time with one another...
time apart makes your heart long for each other...
holidays are completely hectic and overbooked...
holidays are so filled with love once you're married...
gifts are something you'll eventually forget...
post-it notes are your favorite thing to find...
peace is such a comfort when you're needing patience...
the excitement of our first pregnancy was perfectly anticipated...
the loss of that child can drive you to desperation...
you long to see him in Heaven...
the strength of your marriage is tested and proven solid...
troubled times always come...
chasing after a dream isn't always what God has in store...
trusting in God is more than just a dream...
asking God to fill you is easier said than done...
the pure joy of seeing it through a year is indescribable...
wanting more isn't enough...
praying for it is.

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?"