Reminders

I feel incredibly blessed to be able to serve on the worship team at my church. Earlier this week I received the set list for the weekend. As I was looking over the songs, I noticed one in particular that has significant meaning for me. The last time I sang this song was in May just three days before I lost my precious baby.

Up to that point, I had never heard the song before. I loaded it onto my iPhone along with the others, so I could rehearse. The first time it played, I cried. That week was a very emotional one. The reports from my doctor went from good to bad and vice versa. That week was a roller coaster of emotions and this song ministered to my heart the entire week. The song is called “Oceans” and it is performed by Hillsong United. 

 

The chorus goes like this:

“And I will call upon Your name

And keep my eyes above the waves, when oceans rise

My soul will rest in Your embrace

For I am Yours, and You are mine.”

 

I felt as if this song was placed in the worship set by God especially for me. He knew what was coming. He knew I would need this reminder, that I am His. He stayed close to me that week through every tear, every worry, every doubt.

Hearing this song show up again on my playlist this week has reminded me of how close he stayed during that time and how close he continues to stay. I really hope this song will minister to someone this week as much as it did to my heart the first time I heard it. I also thank God for the reminder he has given me this week and I pray that I will never forget that I am His.

 

“Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders.

Let me walk upon the waters, wherever You would call me.

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger in the presence of My Savior”

 

 

 

Waiting and What Could Have Been

Most days, life has gone back to normal. I wake up every morning greeted by big eyes peering over the bed ready to start a new adventure. I do chores, plan meals, run errands, try to keep up with an always moving four year old, make dinners, try to find quiet moments… live life. 

Then there are those days, sometimes weeks, when it is very hard to not think of what might have been. Right now, I would have been around 5 months pregnant, well over halfway, and growing bigger everyday. I would have been cleaning, organizing, and enlisting J to help me rearrange the furniture in our daughter’s room to fit a new crib and changing table. I would be scouring Craigslist and online sales for a new rocking chair to replace the run down, seen-better-days, leather chair in our living room. We would have, most-likely, known what we were having by now and I would be either going through bins of pink hand-me-downs from big sister, or picking up a football on an impromptu visit to Target. 

Right now, however; we are waiting and I am living life as it used to be.

Almost.

Life is different than what “used-to-be”. Now, there is a memory of a life, not yet started, that brought with it amazing joy. There is a hope of more joy to come. There is a closeness with my Jesus as I walk this journey with Him. There is, at the same time, sadness for the past and excitement for the future. 

During this time of waiting, I have experienced a variety of emotions, but most importantly, I have found my hope. I have often said, “this is temporary”. This phase in life is temporary, this waiting phase, and it is. Little did I know what can happen in the temporary phases of life. The joy that can be found even when facing what seem like mountain-sized obstacles. The hope that can be found when you place it where it should be.

“Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him.” Psalm 62:5 NLT

 

 

In The Arms of Jesus

This weekend my sweet, compassionate, crazy, loving, extremely creative, joy-filled, beautiful girl turned four.

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As we gathered with family and friends to celebrate her birthday on Saturday, I was given gift. A belated birthday gift from my mom and dad. I stared, speechless, at the beauty before me trying to contain my tears. I still tear up when I see it and remember the story my mom told me about why she chose this gift.

She was attending a conference in June at Bethel in Redding, CA. During a worship time, the song 10,000 Reasons began to play. My mom’s eyes suddenly filled with tears as the reality of the loss of my pregnancy hit. She spent the song weeping and as it finished she lifted her eyes to the stage. There a piece of art was being painted. She heard a whisper in her heart from God, “This is how I see Kellie’s family.”

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A nest with three eggs. Two of those eggs touched, cradled, by a feather. After the session that morning my mom went to find the artist and asked to purchase the painting. The artist told her she named that particular piece “Heaven’s Point of View”.

When the painting arrived, my mom had it framed and then brought it up with her the weekend of my daughter’s birthday. And there it was, sitting on the couch of my grandmother’s living room. This beautiful work of art with a special story just for me.

“I thought this was a great way to honor the baby.” My mom told me as I opened it. To me it does so much more. It not only honors and remembers the two pregnancies I have lost, but it tells me they are waiting for me.

I am the mother of three: one beautiful girl in my arms, and two in the arms of Jesus.

Protection

I revisited my blog for one purpose, to help me heal. I started out strong with two posts already thought out as I sat down at my computer almost two months ago. With a third post done just shy of two weeks after my initial post, I was on a roll. Then something happened, it just stopped. I am now writing my fourth post a little over a month later. What happened?

Within the last month, I started noticing something. I was becoming distant. Its like I could see and hear what was going on in the lives of loved ones around me, but I just couldn’t break through this invisible barrier that kept me from experiencing it with them. I noticed it even more so with God. Why couldn’t I get to Jesus?

My daughter learned about the prodigal son in chapel yesterday. We were talking about the story in the car with her on the way to Costco this morning. She told Jason and I that the daddy forgave his son and gave him a big hug when he came home. She assumed that the story meant that her daddy (and mommy) would do the same for her. I assured her we would and then I asked her if she knew that the story she heard was true about God, too. Her response was to tell me that God was up too high to give her a hug and that he would need to come down. Her daddy and I smiled and then she said something that only a child would say. “Maybe I could go visit Jake and the Neverland Pirates and get some pixie dust! Then I could fly up there to God and he can give me a hug.” I hope my daughter never loses that sense of wonder and her childlike faith.

So, why couldn’t I just grab some pixie dust and fly up to Jesus? During communion at church this weekend I just wanted an answer. I prayed out of an honest (somewhat frustrated) heart. Lord, why can’t I reach you? When I pray, my mind wonders and it won’t stop. I can’t connect. I need your help. Why? Then it hit me. He answered my frustrated heart. I was scared. I was scared of being hurt, of being let down. I had put a wall of protection up around my heart instead of trusting in His protection. I let doubt and fear creep in. I had allowed the thought of never being able to have kids again sink into my heart and I put walls up so that when the bad news came, I would be ready for it. 

I knew He was right. I knew what I had done. I knew what had caused the distance, the invisible barrier. I was overcome with emotions and I found myself praying one simple prayer. Jesus, please, break down the wall.

My thoughts then turned to a note my Aunt had sent me. I am part of her Babyline ministry. She sends out notes of encouragement to women dealing with infertility and miscarriages, as well as support for those who are pregnant or have just had a baby. Her note read like this:

 

“Dearest Kellie,

I mailed out a Babyline note shortly before you discovered that you had a tubal pregnancy. The secretary at my church called to let me know that my letter had been returned. It made me cry that God is so protective of you that He (I believe) caused me to mess up on the address, so that a note celebrating your little one would not cause you more pain.

Love you,

Aunt Karen”

 

God reminded me in that moment that He is my protector. That I’m not going through this alone and that I need to trust Him with my heart. I don’t need to rely on my own strength to get through this, which is exactly what I was doing. I can lean into Him, rely on His strength, His protection, for whatever comes my way, good or bad.

“The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge.” Psalm 18:2

Swim Love!

Swim Love!

Summer-time means swim lessons. My little girl is just like her mama. She loves the water! This is the second summer of swim lessons and she is doing great! Soon she will swim like a little fish.🙂

10,000 Reasons

I think it is so easy to focus sometimes on what is going wrong in our lives. The hardships, the trials, the waiting… It is easy to let your mind slip into a dark place. While writing a letter to the little one we lost (see previous post), I found myself slipping. So many emotions and thoughts raced in my head. I didn’t want the letter to turn out that way. I wanted it to be uplifting and filled with love. Was that even possible? I wasn’t sure, so I kept it simple.  

This past weekend, God spoke to me in the smallest way, but it had a big impact. Funny how that happens, huh? We sang the song 10,000 Reasons by Matt Redman in church and a line jumped out at me as if to say, “Kellie, this is for you.” It said this:

“For all Your goodness I will keep on singing. Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find.”

Ten thousand reasons. I wondered if I could come up with so many reasons. Could I let my heart find those reasons? Could I live with a grateful spirit?

I started to look at everything around me: my husband, my daughter, our home, our family, our church family, our friends. I saw the blessings in my life. His provision. His protection.

I want to live with a grateful spirit. I want to look at my surroundings and focus on the good and not the bad. I want to be able to look at my family and focus on what I have been blessed with: an amazing husband and a beautiful daughter, and not on what is missing. 

I also want to trust. Trust that God is good. That He is faithful. That this phase in my life, this waiting, is only temporary. It is hard sometimes. It is then that I try to remember. Remember the blessings, the times in my life when He moved in a mighty way, the times He showed His faithfulness. It gets a little easier. I can’t say I’m there 100%, but I’m working on it.

 

Dear Little One- Your Story

We waited for you. We hoped for you. We prayed for you. We cried tears of joy when we found out you were coming. We cried tears of grief when we found out we would never meet you. I pray you are in Heaven and we will meet one day. Most of all, I pray you know how much you are loved. With each passing day of my pregnancy, my love for you grew. Everyday since, I miss you.

The day we found out we were expecting you is a day that will be hard to forget. I thought you might like to hear the story.

Daddy and I took your big sister to Disneyland that weekend. We went on Friday and then spent Saturday with your Aunt and Uncle. We helped lead worship at your Aunt’s church Saturday night and then headed north to your Grandma and Grandpa’s house. They called asking for help leading worship at their church because some of their Worship Team couldn’t make it. In between church and driving that night, I felt sick and took a pregnancy test. There was a slight line, but I had never used that kind of test before and wasn’t quite sure if the result was positive. To us, it was just a maybe (we didn’t want to get our hopes up).

We drove all night to Grandma and Grandpa’s wondering. We woke up early on Sunday and went to the drug store on our way to church to by a digital test. There was no time to take the test before church, so I kept in in my bag for after service.

That Sunday, there was no sermon. It was an all worship service. Both Daddy and I were on stage with your Grandpa and Grandma. I started to feel sick again, so during communion, I dismissed myself quietly. I took the test and couldn’t believe my eyes when the result was “yes+”. I tried to contain my tears, but I couldn’t.

I rejoined Daddy, Grandma and Grandpa on stage. I leaned over to Grandma to tell her the news. Soon we were both in tears. Daddy and Grandpa soon figured out what was happening. You see, we had been waiting for a long time, so tears of joy could really only mean one thing. Soon all four us of were crying. We continued the worship set, all the time praising God for his faithfulness. When service ended, Grandma announced the news and their whole church came to the front and laid their hands on me in prayer.

That is your story. The story of how we found out you existed. So many people prayed for you. So many people loved you. So many people grieved for you. Your short existence, your beginning of life did not go unnoticed.

Love,

Mommy