Monday, August 6, 2012
Milestones
He will feed his flock like a shepherd.
He will carry the lambs in his arms,
holding them close to his heart.
He will gently lead the mother sheep with their young. Isaiah 40:11
Monday, December 5, 2011
The truth is plain to see - she was sent to rescue me.
There are times in your life where you feel forsaken. Where nothing is going right, in a big way. When desperate prayers go unanswered month after month. When you are convinced nothing good will ever happen again. Since December 23, 2008, that is how I felt. A little lost, a little desperate, insecure about the future and continuously wondering "Why, God? When, God?" Losing Webb was the
Monday, June 6, 2011
Two years, five months, one week and four days
Sometimes it seems so much further away. Other times, it feels like it just happened yesterday. Here is where I am at two years, five months, one week and four days :
I’ll never get over it.
I can still laugh until my stomach hurts.
I still cry at the drop of a hat.
The people I love still save me every day, but only God can give me peace.
I have a new appreciation for everything.
Important things matter more; trivial things matter less.
I love bigger.
I am more afraid my kids will get sick, hit by a car, bitten by a snake or four thousand other possibilities that never crossed my mind before.
I am afraid I am forgetting little things about him.
At times, I struggle to keep it together.
I still wonder, “Why us?”
I still have hope.
I think we are going to make it.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Perfection
There are so many days when I feel and see myself getting better. Times when I look back on the past two and a half years and think, “Ok, I am getting through it.” And then there are times when still it stops me dead in my tracks. The other day I was sitting in my office, and all of the sudden I had a vivid flashback of being in the hospital with Webb, and I was once again crippled with pain. The fact I lost Webb is something I still think about no less than 20 times an hour. Maybe more. But the actual flashbacks of the hospital and funeral started to come less and less the past several months. Maybe that’s why the latest round hurt so incredibly. It’s surreal to see his identical twin grow and thrive. It gives me a glimpse into what Webb would look like and be saying and doing, but he was his own unique person, and I just want to see him, right next to his brothers, sharing in their fun. I don’t know how to make this life fit into what my family used to be. I don’t know how to be completely happy here when my heart still aches for what I once had. I feel so helpless. I know I can survive just about anything that is thrown my way, but gosh, I don’t want to. I want to go back to the days where I expected the best instead of always anticipating the worst. It’s almost as if I’m scared to believe anything good can happen. I remember walking into the twins’ room right before Webb got sick. They were curled up in their cribs, right next to one another, bottoms in the air, sleeping soundly. I looked at them, and then Bo sleeping in the room next door, his hand curled around three extra pacifiers, and I had this feeling of utter joy. I actually remember saying, “God, what did I do to deserve all this perfection?” I will never forget that moment of feeling like my life was everything I wanted it to be. I will never feel that again on Earth. Because no matter how many wonderful things will come our way, there will always be that hole, that something missing. I want it all back. That moment, those days, the perfect 18 months of my life where all my children were safe in their beds. I want it back.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Hold on to my hand....
Pencil marks on a wall
I wasn't always this tall,
You scattered some monsters from beneath my bed,
You watched my team win,
You watched my team lose,
You watched when my bicycle went down again,
And When I was weak unable to speak,
still I could call You by name,
and I said “Elbow healer, Superhero,
come if You can,” and You said “I am”
Only 16, life is so mean, what kind of curfew is at ten PM
You saw my mistakes, You watched my heart break
Heard when I swore I’d never love again
When I was weak, unable to speak,
still I could call You by name,
and I said “Heart-ache Healer, Secret-keeper,
be my Best Friend” and You said “I am”
You saw me wear white, by pale candlelight,
I said forever to what lies ahead
two kids and a dream, with kids that can scream
too much it might seem when it’s two AM
when I am weak, unable to speak,
still I will call You by name.
“Oh Shepherd, Savior, Pasture-maker,
hold on to my hand,” and You say “I am.”
The winds of change,
And circumstance blow in and all around
us so we find a foothold that’s familiar,
And bless the moments that we feel You nearer
Life had begun, I was woven and spun,
You let the angels dance around the throne, who can say when,
But they’ll dance again, when I am free and finally headed home
I will be weak, unable to speak,
still I will call You by name
“Creator, Maker, Life-sustainer,
Comforter, Healer, My Redeemer,
Lord and King, Beginning and
the End, I am, yes, I am.”
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Kaki is holding my baby....
Catherine is also predeceased by her brothers, Joe and Henry, her sister Florence and her great grandson Webber Bennett Broach. She is survived by her sister Mary Moon of AZ, her four children and their spouses: Peg and Terry Mauzy, Cathie and Jim Ross, Pamela and Stephen Webber, Dawn and Steve Rippley; her precious grandchildren: Shawn Evans, Ashley Webber Broach, Krista Ross, Justin Mauzy and her four great grandchildren: Chloe and Ariane Evans and Bo and Whitaker Broach.
Funeral services will be held at Oakland United Methodist Church, Oakland,IL on Sunday, January 30, 2011 at 1:00 pm. A graveside service will follow the ceremony. In lieu of flowers, the family asks for donations to be made to Crossroads Hospice in memory of her. Crossroads Hospice, 1957 Lakeside Parkway, Suite 500, Tucker, GA 30084