Dan and I used to wonder just what made heaven so great.  Other than the fact that the alternative was a less than pleasant idea, logically speaking we couldn’t figure out why we would want to have a huge mansion in a city full of people.   Tonight I figured it out.  We were thinking of heaven as a place.  But heaven isn’t a place, heaven is the presence of God. 

Think of the saying “home is where the heart is.”  We realize that the house doesn’t make a home, it’s the people, your family, that makes a place a home.  It’s the same way with a church.  The church building doesn’t make a church, it’s the people who use the building, the body of believers, that make up the church.  Heaven is the same way.  It’s not a building, a city, or a place, it’s the people you are surrounded with, it’s being in the presence of the Almighty God, it’s the lack of sin, pain, and death.

Now how cool is that?!!

Exciting.  So many things going on.  It was my day to play the piano so there were responsibilities there to think of, clothes to remember, friends who came for the special day to greet, children to calm, others to reassure that they were important, too . . . We threw a party at our house after the service so family could celebrate. Something simple since it was Sunday and no one wanted to clean up the mess or even make it to begin with.  Kids were too wound to take naps, no time to practice for special music during the evening service.  Good messages.  Good fellowship.  Good God.

I cried on the way home.  One of the first of many important events in the life of his children and Dan missed it.  I even wore my wedding dress (shortened and added a little red sweater) and a necklace that Dan gave me.  And he didn’t even bother to show up and tell me how pretty I looked.  Sigh.

But God was there and I think He was pleased. 

 Hebrews 13:5 “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”

I could be married several years down the road, I could be an old maid, I could have more kids, I could have less.  God knows my future and He knows my dreams.  I have to let it rest in His hands.  My story isn’t told just yet.  You have to live through the pain and uncertainty before your story can be told.

There was a young woman who lived with a crew,

She had so many shoes she didn’t know what to do.

Sneakers for this one, and boots for that,

To top it all off there was a matching hat.

The piles they did make by the front door and back,

Caused her to yell, “I want a sack!”

She packed them all up and threw them o’er her shoulder.

The weight of it all felt like a great big boulder.

The weight made her grouchy like the Grinch from another tale,

“When will it all end!” she began to wail.

“I can’t do it alone, I just want to quit.

I want to stop cleaning for just a little bit!”

“We want to help.  Yes, Mommy, we do!”

Came the voices of the owners of all those shoes.

Just a few minutes or maybe more,

And all those shoes ran out the door.

Mommy sat down with a great big thump,

“Why oh why, was I such a grump?”

This burden I carry is not mine at all.

God will take it if I but call.

Some of you laugh and say “Oh, that’s so cute!”  And I must admit, that reaction was my original intent.  But to tell you the truth the more I thought about this silly little poem, the more I realized just how true it was.  I have been getting caught up in the silly frustrations that are an everyday occurrence in our lives and I have been piling them all into a big sack that I keep trying to carry around with me. 

Most of my friends and neighbors don’t see that sack, but I’m guessing they can see the results.  Maybe they see that my smile is a bit harder to come by, or maybe they can hear the self pity that laces my conversation.  Maybe they don’t see it at all, but I do, and I know God does.  And He is wondering why I don’t trust Him enough to hand Him the sack and let Him carry the burden for me.

So, I guess I need to start my new year off right, hand over my sack, and have a childlike enjoyment of the days to come; free from the frustrations and worries that drag me down.

Those words have been floating around in my head a lot the last couple of days.  I am weak.  This single parenting stuff is tough.  And there are many days when I don’t think I can handle it.  But God is gracious and He has provided the strength to continue on.  The roller coaster ride of “We are doing just fine – - Oh, there is just so much I can’t do!” drives me bananas.  I like things neat, orderly, and systematic. And currently my life is pretty much anything but that.

At least ‘He is strong.’  He’s my shoulder to cry on, my strong arm to hold me up, my warm hug when the days are rough, my advice when I don’t know what to do, and my comfort when I know I’ve failed again.  He has promised to work THROUGH me, and I’m going to hold Him to that promise.

I am alone looking contentedly around me when he appears.  I smile recognizing our friendship.  He reaches out and grabs the tips of the three fingers on my right hand and pulls, “Come on, I have something to show you” he says, his voice is excited and I smile at his enthusiasm.  As we hurry toward our destination I am dimly aware of the fact that he has not released me and his thumb is slowly caressing my fingers in a silent question I’m not sure I dare acknowledge.  We enter a room lined with several bookshelves and I tease him about his lack of books in comparison to my own library.  He takes the joke good naturedly as he scans the shelves in front of him looking for a particular book.  He doesn’t let go of my hand and I am content.

The dream flickers and again I am alone.  My destination is unknown, but I must pass through this long room, lined with many people who know me and who have been watching my life.  He appears at the other end.  His destination leads him past me in the direction from which I have just come.  Once again we smile in recognition of our friendship, but after the last incident there is just a little bit more involved and our hearts smile as well.  We must pass closely as the room is narrow and many people line the walls.  Our hands brush and automatically clasp as we try to maintain the connection midst the business of our lives.  We continue on our separate ways holding on as long as we can and I am aware that everyone around can see that our hearts have communicated even if our lips have not.

As I leave the room I am aware of heads bending toward each other and whispered speculations being shared: some are smiling, some are worried.  I am thankful you care.  I’m glad you have noticed, but worried that you might push.  These things take time and our hearts need to slowly strengthen the bond we share before we even dare consider the future.

When I wake up I am amused by the emotions I still feel.  The contentment is still there.  My heart is still smiling dimly in recognition and I feel peaceful.  What does it all mean?  Is there a face to the other heart in my dream.  I long for that connection of hearts again, but there is peace in knowing that God is in control.  His connection to my heart is real and far stronger.  I will rest in Him.

The blue quilt (notice they follow the color code that we have given the kids) is for Benjamin(9).  We quilted the shape of a hand on to some of the blocks because Benjamin means “son of my right hand.”   The butterflies also kind of symbolize the new life that Dan has found as well as his shirt’s, which we are incorporating into the quilts. =)

The green quilt is Josiah’s(8).  One definition of his name has to do with “support.”  So we quilted blocks and Bible’s on his quilt to symbolize the fact that he can’t do it all on his own.  It takes more than one block to build a wall and Dan was just one of the many blocks that supports him in his chosen path.  I also quilted Bibles on there because I want him to remember to use his Bible as his true source of support for every aspect of his life.

This year I started on the one for Dassy(6).  For some reason I started with Abigail’s (the first one done) which is why Dassy’s is next.  This pattern is a little more complicated, so it’s probably going to take a bit longer to get it done.  Hopefully it won’t be so difficult that I can’t make my goal of one quilt a year.

I look back over those years with awe, pain, sorrow, sadness, relief, contentment and joy. 

There is the awe as I look at the way neighbors, family, friends, friends of friends, and even complete strangers chipped in to help this grief stricken family.  We had so much help and support that it is hard for me to grasp just what a needy situation we really were in.  In a lot of cases we had help before we even knew we needed it.  It is amazing to see God’s family working together the way He intended it to.  I can’t wait to see what our relationships will be like when we get to Heaven.

There is pain as I remember again those agonizing days in the hospital and the weeks following when getting out of bed to face the day was a struggle of monumental proportions.  I can remember the agony so great and so consuming that my knees would literally buckle and I would sink to the floor clutching my heart trying vainly to somehow pull all the pieces back together.

There is the sorrow as I think of all the milestones of which Dan has had no part.  The birth of Caleb(2), Payden’s(3) first steps, Maranatha’s(5) first words, Hadassah’s(6) first day of school, Abigail (7) losing her first tooth, Josiah(8) shooting a bow and arrow, Benjamin (9) catching a fish, etc.  

There is sadness as I think of the future of my children and I see their loss.  Their Daddy will miss their wedding day, their graduations from high school maybe college.  He won’t be there to help them learn to drive, to mentor them, to help them get their first job.  Caleb (2) never even met his Daddy.

There is relief as I realize that we have made it this far, the worst is over.  There is relief in knowing that God is faithful and He’s proven over and over again that He is quite capable of taking care of us.  My foundation is secure, my hope is eternal, and my future is in His hands.

There is contentment in knowing that I am right where God wants me to be.  I have chosen to believe that no matter the choices we made leading up to the surgery, God was leading and directing and He was the one who has put me on this path and He is the one who will continue to guide me and care for me.  I am content to follow Him.

And there is joy as I realize the growth in myself and my children as a result of our heartache.  My compassion for those around me who are struggling has grown so much that I find it necessary to rein myself in lest I play God and try to fix everything possible (good thing God didn’t give me much to work with).  My children’s sensitivity to others who have suffered a loss and to those who are in need of a Savior is convicting.  And tonight Josiah (8) reminded me that we have been blessed by the mercies of God, which he informed me was “stuff we didn’t deserve.”  Their trust that God will bring them a new Daddy, their lack of bitterness and only minor struggles with anger, their sensitivity of spirit and softness of heart cause me to hope that they will survive this experience and be the better for it.  With God all things are possible.

So, how are we doing?  I would say we are growing and are a living testimony that God’s grace is sufficient.  God is faithful, He has brought us this far.  We have a new “normal” now.  The bad days are rare.  And tonight when our devotional book asked us to choose and pray for a specific request we all agreed that we would like a ‘new daddy.’

Payden (3) said that the boys, Benjmain(9), and Josiah (8), had to come back from Grandma’s and help Grandpa build our shed ’cause Grandpa couldn’t do it without them.  =)

Caleb (2) has decided that he is in school too, and he will stand at one of the school desks and scribble seriously on a piece of paper for quite some time before bringing it to me to score.  Once I put an OK on his page then he is content.  Silly boy.

Maranatha (5) is halfway through her yellow book (Hooked on Phonics) for her Reading already(we started last year) and doing a great job.  I found her in the playroom with it teaching Payden (3) his letters.

Dassy (6) thinks she doesn’t like cheese, but Mac and Cheese is her favorite meal.  The rule is “You are only allowed to Not Like ONE thing.”  She has changed her one thing to mushrooms.  Payden (3) has decided (as he eats his hot dog) that he doesn’t like meat!  He cracks me up!  I don’t think he even knows what ‘meat’ is!

Abigail (7) has managed to overcome her fear and has learned how to ride a bicycle.  Dassy (6) took note and followed her example.  This past weekend Abigail came down a hill a bit too fast on her bicycle and now she has a couple of holes in her chin that might rival the Grand Canyon not to mention several other scrapes and bruises.  No pictures for her for a while.  =)  But she got back on her bike!!  I was so proud!

Josiah (8) came to me today practically in tears.  He felt terrible about leaving me behind to go play with Uncle Andrew.  Oh sweetheart, thank you for wanting to take such good care of Mommy. 

Benjamin (9) came to me with a concern about the amount of time he was spending on the computer.  After a discussion about how we should be in control and not let things control us I’ve noted a definite improvement.  He also is doing very well at controlling his candy and sweet intake.  I’ve seen him refuse a desert or treat!  Keep up the good work!

Me (?) I’ve managed to clean up a couple of piles in my bedroom, got it vacuumed, and started my scrapbook of our trip to TN this summer.  This is a big deal since I think those piles in my bedroom have been there for at least a year maybe longer.  They were really starting to annoy me.  I was actually feeling pretty good about myself and what we’ve managed to accomplish in the last couple of weeks before this grief wave hit.  Good thing these don’t last long.

As a family we have been working on “peace” as well as some control in our movie watching.  We made it through a whole month without watching a video and did well with limited time on computers.  We are still working on the peace issue. 

Our pastor has been preaching on grace and I was reminded again today just how much grace God has given us.  So many things we didn’t deserve and He hasn’t quit giving yet.

God is good. 

I’m hormonal and surely everyone knows it.

I’m preparing for a trip to Dan’s homeland and he’s not going with me!  (Imagine that said with a wail) 

(Calm again) I talked with someone today about the place where Dan and I met. (So many memories)  We chatted about people we both knew, we talked about places we had both been.  (Sigh) Ah, Dan, why aren’t you here to fill in the blanks? 

I had a reminder that not everyone knows my story and apparently it’s still a bit painful at times to think back . . .

I saw a visionary in action and oh the pain and longing that brings.  I had forgotten how much it hurts.

I miss my visionary.