Tuesday, June 23, 2009


Let me tell you something about grief. It finds you. It tracks you down. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. I will be going about my day, wading through the motions, and it will hit me like a ton of bricks. Reminding me I am still a mother who lost her child. Reminding me it will never be the same. Reminding me he's not coming back. I have times where I feel like I'm going to be ok. Moments when I look at Bo and Whit and see all I have instead of all I have lost. And then it pulls me under like a strong current: one child is missing.

Bo is still asking questions about Webb, which makes me happy because it means he has not forgotten. Last night, I was laying next to him before he went to sleep, and he said, "Mommy, do you ever get sad?" I said, "Sure I do." He replied, "When you think about Webbie?" and I told him, "Yes, that makes Mommy very sad." He thought for a second and then told me, "Mommy, people get sick. When Webbie is up in the sky with Jesus, he's happy and not sick. When he is down here, he is very sick." I agreed with him, interested in his perspective on things. And then he said, "Mommy, we are so sad Webbie is not here. But Webbie is happy!" You know, out of all the things I have read, all the things people have told me, Bo's words were some of the most reassuring words I have heard. Maybe because it's so obvious. Maybe because the simplicity of a three year old makes it seem like it's ok for babies to be in heaven and not with us. I don't know why. But he was right, Webb is happy even though we are sad. And last night, that didn't seem as strange as it sometimes does.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Survival = Peace, Friends, Grace

(1) We made it through the twins' birthday.  

And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:7

It was not without tears.  It was not without pain.  It was one of the worst days of my life.  And yet, it was also one of the best.  Whit is two.  He is all boy, all joy, all love, all ours.  And he is here.  

(2)  We have some amazing people in our lives.

Jesus said, "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."  John 15:13

You, our friends, are truly a gift from God.  I have told several of you before, when you wonder how in the world we have made it this far and make it through impossible days like June 5, look no farther than yourselves.  We have some angels walking with us, among us, for us - holding us up when we feel like we can't go on.  God gives us to our families, but the friends we have made are one of our most magnificent rewards.  I know I would do the same for my friends that they have done for me during this awful trial, but to have that unconditional love poured out from people who are not family, well, it is an amazing feeling.  We are not alone.

(3)  God is still the One carrying us.

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.  2 Corinthians 12:9

We are still alive.  We are still married.  We smile every day.  We thank God for our blessings.  We feel blessed.  This is not some courageous act.  This is not some coincidence.  Some of you are under the concept that we are the strongest people on Earth.  We are not.  We are filled with the love of God, and He is carrying us through this, as He promises He will.  We have had the worst thing that can happen to a parent happen to us - and yet, we are still here.  This is what it means to be held by the Lord.  When all else fails, we can fall down at the foot of the cross and be comforted.  We are still in that place, and it is safe.  His grace is sufficient.  It is a miracle, and we have experienced it.

We are surviving.  We are grieving.  We are going to be okay.  We have peace, friends and grace - the most wonderful gifts from the Lord.  We have fallen, but He will help us up, again and again.

Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you.  Psalm 9:10  

Thursday, June 4, 2009


Zac and I have a tradition for our children's birthday.  On that morning, we wait until we hear him stirring and then walk in, video camera in hand, singing Happy Birthday.  We have some priceless footage of these precious moments.  They smile, clap, laugh.  It is awesome.  Tomorrow we will do the same for Whit, but our hearts will not be completely filled with joy as they should be.  Tomorrow, we will have to walk past an empty crib while singing to our perfectly healthy two year old that we are still blessed to have with us.  His other half is not with us, and as we approach his birthday, that fact seems as unbelievable as ever.  We will not see his sweet two year old grin and hear him babble the words to "Happy Birthday."  Instead, we will sing to him and visit him in a place no parent should ever have to go to see their child - especially on his birthday.  We have our strong and weak moments like every grieving person does.  There are times when we are able to put on a happy face and go about our day, either for each other or for the boys.  Tomorrow will no doubt be faced with moments where we do not feel like doing this, but we will, because we have a birthday to celebrate.  And as much as it hurts, we have to move forward and rejoice with our sweet Whit.  Thanks to all of you who have emailed, called, sent flowers, cards, or just said a prayer for us this week.  It has been one of the most dreaded days since Webb died.  We will get through it, like we have each challenging moment.  We will get through by His grace, and by all the prayers of those who love us.  June 5, 2009 will not be the day we thought it would be, but we are still a family, we are still standing, and we are going to make it.  God told me so.