My arms simply ache-

to hold them.
Im consumed by a burning desire to read them a book, sing them a song, brush their hair back, clip their little nails, hear their giggles and sweet voices…
but I can't even look at their pictures.
But I SO desperately want to. NEED to.  
I want to sit and watch every video, look at every picture, touch every single thing they laid their little hands on.
I'm just terrified that it will cripple me and I'll simply never get up.
Most days I don't want to get up.
But I do.
I. just. don't. want. to.

What I want is simple.
To hold them.
And I can't.
Not this side of heaven- and lately, not even in my dreams.
Sweet Jesus- please, oh please, let me see them in my dreams.  

But more than that, Lord, please carry me, hold me, strengthen me.
I know there will only be one set of Footprints for
a
very
long
time.

Praise the Lord, praise God our Savior!
For each day He carries us in His arms. 
Psalm 68:19

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me 
all the days of my life, 
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord 
forever.  
Psalm 23:6

With Mercy, with Sam, with each one of my loved and cherished ones.

For we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.  
2 Corinthians 4:18

Thank you, my sweet sister Sam, for that reminder.  For the nudge to remember that this life is but a blip and what I can no longer see or touch is waiting for me on the other side of eternity…

For now I'll just beg for dreams-

love,
clan mac mama

So, it's been a little while...

because we moved.  AGAIN.  4th temporary house in 2 months and 10 days.  It also happens to be the 2 month mark for my close pal, Cassie, in the loss of her son, Noah.  The fact that we are walking this journey together seems so surreal that I can't even find the words to describe it.  Her boys were Eva's 1st big "brothers" and they adored her.  She was one of Eva's first "friend aunts."  You know, those awesome friends who love your kids like their own even when they are little and covered in snot/vomit/poop/dirt… Now we spend inordinate amounts of time commiserating over crying in random public places, how it's even possible for a body to make that many tears and how we absolutely hate cooking/grocery shopping because it's the most tangible reminder of the holes in our lives that used to be filled with our kids.

Honestly-every single moment carries with it a reminder of what is missing from my earthly life.  The jar of still full peanut butter…because my peanut butter eaters were Mercy & Sammy.  The bananas still in the bowl, going brown…Sammy was my banana man.  The chocolate & lollipops still in the treat bin…Mercy and Sammy would corral Max into sneaking a bunch of that, and now that they aren't here, it just doesn't occur to him to sneak all the sugar in the house in the space of 15 minutes.  The single box of pasta that now feeds my family…The milk that takes so much longer to run out…The laundry piles that no longer seem to grow like gremlins…

Some days I can be thankful for the time God gave us with them.  Some days I simply can't.  Lately, it's been a whole lot of those not thankful days.  That's not to say that I'm not thankful for the time I had, I just haven't been able to wear the rose colored glasses that say, "Gee, my kids died in a horrible accident when they were 5 and 6, but I'm just SO GLAD I had that short little time with them."  Nope, not there.  Honestly, I probably never will be.  No matter how many days God planned for my sweet babies, I will never believe it was enough.   I used to think that the worst thing I'd walk through would be when either Charles or I drew our last breath and left the other behind.  I'd think about that old Kathy Mattea tune, "Where've You Been," a love song about a lifetime of commitment and marriage that makes me cry every. single. time. I hear it.  (just listened. just cried.)  I just couldn't wrap my brain around how one or the other of us would face each day alone when the time came.  It just made my heart ache.
Honestly, I'm not sure I ever even gave much thought to what it might be like after- you know, when I'm with JESUS.
Do you think about it?
Because I sure as heck do think about it now.
A lot.
I just started reading this book by Randy Alcorn, Heaven.
Did you know most believing Christians don't give much thought to Heaven?  That even some pastors avoid the subject because they themselves think our earthly world is so much more interesting and Heaven sounds awfully boring?
I used to think it sounded boring.  Seriously, who wants to float around and strum a harp all day.  Not sure where I got the idea that Heaven is harp strumming and I can fly, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one with that skewed earthly idea.
Then I started that book.
Read it.
It's not an "I died and met Jesus in a field of flowers" kind of book.
It's an honestly written, scripturally based, eye opening look into the life we are promised, the ONE ETERNAL life that makes this earthly one just a blip of time in a fallen, broken place.
You know what else it made me ponder?
How I'll spend what's left of my time here.
Who will I serve?
How will I live?

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.  
Galations 6:9

Honestly, most days I do just want to give up.  Cassie probably does too.  Just getting out of bed requires monumental effort.
I. AM. WEARY.

key word- I.

I just can't do this alone.

His grace must be sufficient for me, his power will be made perfect in my weakness.  And I will boast ALL THE MORE gladly about my weaknesses, so the power of Christ will rest on me.
Only He can bandage my wounds and help me seek new hope.
I don't mean I "boast" of my sadness, but I do share it, because for some purpose only God knows, I feel so compelled to write that it's almost a physical need.  I know when I have something to say, because all of sudden I just want it to rain, I want quiet and I want to spend the day in my jammies, at this keyboard. Letting HIS voice tell me what to say.  (Nope, not a tangible whisper in the ear people, just a gentle prompting by the Holy Spirit.)

I also realized something else in the last few days.
This isn't a punishment.
(Cue thunder-I swear I've been praying for a rocking good storm and I'm hearing some rumbles…God rocks.)
I wasn't a bad mom.
I didn't fail God.
I didn't disappoint Him and he didn't take my children to prove a point.
They are with Him because He chose them.

For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight.  
Ephesians 1:4

Do I believe He caused their accident?
Duh-NO.
I believe earthly choices led to a horrible situation that resulted in the death of my sweet babies.
I also believe He was with them the moment it happened.  That he took them by the hand and guided them to the place of eternal happiness, hope, and joy- HEAVEN.  

Unfortunately for all of us left behind- our hearts are broken and our lives feel shattered.  What do we do to find hope again? feel joy again?  dream new dreams?

I don't know.  So I'll do the only thing that I know will help me SEE.
I will…
Rest in Him.

And that is what I am off to do just at this moment.  I am going to listen to the sounds of His creation and pray that whatever works He has ordained for each of us in the midst of this sadness, we will open our hearts and minds to His will and His will only.  Be it His will and not my own that sets the rhythm of this "new" life.

Please keep praying.  Your words to God's heart have sustained us and given us so much peace.  Please don't stop.

All my love,
clan mac mama

 Happier times...

Watching the world continue to spin...

despite the joyless pit I'm in.
Those around move on with their days,
as I'm reminded in too many ways,
that MY days will forever feel wrong,
and my time till I see them again too long.
My heart is fractured and filled with pain,
although-my loss is Heaven's gain.
Watching the dreams of other's fulfilled,
observing how their lives they will build,
crushes and tramples the shards of my life,
each breathe I take like a plunging knife.
So often I must be reminded to breathe,
I suck the air in with a sigh and a heave.
Smiling and small talk don't come with ease,
the need to see me ok I simply cannot appease.
The journey of life that once looked so bright,
no longer fills my heart with delight.
The rest and respite I desperately seek,
often elude as tears from my eyes do leak.
The laughter and camaraderie has left my home,
so often my sweet beans feel all alone.
In the night I woke to the sound of sweet Max,
"Mama, can I sleep with you?" he asked.  
Never once in the years since he came to be,
did he ever need to sleep with me.
From the moment he was knit in my womb,
2 lives were linked as yarn on a loom.
Now the yarn is split and frayed,
without his twin he will spend his days.
Sweet Charley wanders, unsure what to do,
missing sweet Sammy & Mercy too.
The little mommy that dwelled in Eva Grace,
longs to see each little face,
of the babes she helped to love and raise,
the hurt in her heart a filmy haze.
Each day I beseech the One whom I trust,
to patch their hearts, I insist He must!
For never will those holes be filled,
but for the leaks, dams only He can build.

…dams. only. He. can. build.

How do we celebrate joyous remembrance of birth...

when we are so painfully reminded of death?
In the darkness, I slowly crawled out of sleep this morning, painfully aware that on this 2 month anniversary of Mercy & Sammy's home going, it is also the day my husband would normally "celebrate" his birth.
My husband.
The man I've held as he has cried rivers of tears for our children that are both with us and with Jesus.  This strong man, who in his ultimate weakness, has reminded me every day that it is only the Lord who will carry us in this painful journey.
I begged Jesus this morning to give me the grace to know how to both celebrate and comfort him today.  How do you say Happy Birthday to your husband when you know he's not?  When you're not?
So I simply thanked Jesus for him and told him so.  Because I am truly blessed beyond measure by his love, his dedication to our Lord and our family, his grace in grief, and his strength in continuing to trust the Lord even when I don't.
I. am. blessed.

Always and forever, I am blessed.  He is blessed.

So, today, we'll choose to quietly be thankful for my Charles, because without him, I would never have been blessed to be Mama to my 5 extraordinary children.  Extraordinary because they come from our Creator, each created in His own image, knit in my womb and called His children for just the number of days He ordained for each of them.  Days we cherish and remember with gratitude and infinite love.

 

I'm so thankful for you, my love.  I pray that today is filled with wonderful memories of the years we we were blessed to celebrate with our babies.

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb. 
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful, 
I know that full well. 
My frame was not hidden from you 
when I was made in the secret place. 
When I was woven together in the 
depths of the earth, 
your eyes saw my unformed body. 
All the days ordained for me 
were written in your book 
before one of them came to be.  
Psalm 139:13-16

I praise God for each of your days and the blessing you are to our children and me.

I love you to the moon and back.

tiff

Blue Bear and Teddy...

are my nighttime companions lately. Blue Bear was Sammy's favorite buddy that he commandeered from Charley several years ago and Teddy was MY Kringle bear that Mercy discovered in a box some time ago and just fell in love with.  There was no travel completed, no nighttime endured and no snuggle time complete without those 2 loveys.  Now I find myself unable to go to sleep without them wrapped in my arms, secure in my love.  I'd set myself on fire to be able to wrap Mercy and Sam in my arms instead of a stuffed substitute.

 

Reality has set in.
Every step I take…
Every store I visit,
Every breath I suck in…
I'm reminded that I will live the rest of my time here without my sweet children.  No more family pictures where bribery must ensue to ensure 7 smiling faces, no more SUPER SAM jumping out of the car or off the bunk stairs like a storm trooper, no more pirouettes from sweet Mercy, no more pantry invaders or chocolate thieves.
Reality sucks.

24 years have passed since I slept with a stuffed animal.  I took Nana's teddy with me to Boot Camp because she left us 4 days before I hit the yellow footprints at Parris Island.  And my children left us just 9 days before we were set to go back there.  What is it about Parris Island and my family?…If anyone ever tells me we need to move back there, I might punch them in the throat.

Every day I struggle with having enough FAITH to let God carry me.  Faith to believe that He will someday bring us great JOY again.  Faith to believe that there is NOTHING I could have done to change the outcome of that day.  Faith to believe that my time with them was real, not a dream and that I really did do my best.

Regret sucks too.
Regret for time wasted, angry words, frustration, impatience and too many no's.  Too much busyness, too much house, too much to do.
Regret for memories not shared when I was SO BUSY.

Thankful.
I'm thankful for the gift of being their Mommy.  It's a gift I wouldn't give back even if it meant I didn't have to feel this horrible, awful, soul sucking sadness and pain.

Nights are awful.  If I fall asleep soundly, I usually wake too many times to count, haunted by weird dreams, empty arms and holes in my heart.

Sweet Jesus, please give us rest.  Our Eva, Charley and Max need us.  And we are so tired, so sad, and so shattered that we can't do it alone.
I only want to see one set of Footprints.  Because, Jesus, I need you to carry me.  For a long time.

Because he loves me, says the Lord, 
"I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he
acknowledges my name.  
He will call upon me and I will answer
him;
I will be with him in trouble, 
I will deliver him and honor him."
Psalm 91:15

love,
clan mac mama

Stuck-

is how I feel today. Grieving your children when you have no home is beyond draining.
Maybe it's why I can't seem to find my way in my grief.  It's so frustrating to feel aimless and without rest.  I desperately want to see and hold their things, to sleep in my own bed, to wrap myself in their blankets and smell their clothes.  To look everyday at their pictures on my walls and to see the earthly things they covered in their sweetness and presence.  I just feel stuck.

AND-
Grief is simply exhausting-

Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I am in distress;
my eyes grow weak with sorrow,
my soul and my body with grief.
Psalm 31:9

I am simply. so. tired.
Grieving my children, grieving the loss of all I knew to be true of my life here on earth, just grieving-is quite honestly the most exhausting thing I have ever walked through.  And that is saying a lot.  I gave birth to 5 children in 7 years, 3 of them in a 17 month period, so I know exhaustion.

Every night is a round robin of fitful sleep, followed by mornings that I don't want to face.  Each day brings new hours to fill with things I don't want to do, because everything reminds me of their absence.

We're buying a house.  A house that doesn't have rooms for them.  A house they never lived in.  A yard they never played in.  A house.  We're buying a house.  A house I pray we'll fill with new memories and love.

Why?  I just couldn't do it.  Couldn't live where we lived before.  I couldn't walk in those same places all the time, drive the same roads, live the same life.  Because my life will never be the same.

God spoke to me through a friend yesterday.
I've been consumed with anger and frustration.  With the unknown.  With the WHY?
He placed her in just the right moment with just the right words to remind me of this truth.

He sees what we do not.
He knows what we do not.
He is sovereign.

This morning he reminded me to...
Be. Still.

I've never been very good at being still.  Of waiting on Him or His guidance.  Like a steam locomotive, I tend to plow ahead, sure I know what destination He is pointing us towards.

Guess what.  The destination isn't here.  It's not of this world.
The destination He points us toward is eternity with Him.  And that's where my babies are.
So for now, I'll spend my time pushing forward like a steam locomotive, serving His purpose,  in this world,  with the ultimate destination in mind.  Eternity with Him and my babies.

Mercy & Sammy-I love you and I miss you so immensely that I can't put it into words that even begin to touch how I grieve.
Tell Jesus we love Him and I'm glad you're safe with Him if you can't be with me.

love,
clan mac mama

I woke today...

to the sound of pouring rain.  The world around me reflecting the state of my heart, the trees catching the tears of the heavens, the rumbles of my anger filling the sky.  Dreary, dull, dark.
I am frankly so angry at their absence today that I cannot put together a complete thought-
So I simply prayed for Jesus to be near.
For the holes in our hearts to be filled up with His love and abundant Mercy.

It's the worst feeling in the world to know that I am powerless against the truth of my children's death.  I cannot change it.  I cannot turn back the clock.  I cannot DO ANYTHING to change the fact that I will live the rest of my life without their laughter, love and sweetness.  That I will never see Mercy dance on pointe, see Sammy catch a touchdown, meet their children, dance with them at their weddings, say goodbye to them when it's MY time to leave this earth.  The story of their lives is complete, but mine has many chapters left-chapters without them here, with me, where they belong.

Painful-that's what watching the rest of the world move on is.
Lives don't stop.  Our grief doesn't necessarily change things.  Some simply remain the same.  And the compounding nature of those static things makes me want to rip the world apart with my bare hands.

But...
Yesterday was 2 more lovely pearls in the jar that Mercy & Sam gave us to fill with the souls of those who choose or return to Jesus.

So I will hold on to yesterday and the hope that filled my heart when those pearls dropped into our jar.  I will hold on to Charles, Eva, Charley and Max.  I will pray for the rumble of thunder to fill the sky, that I might hear the anger of God for the injustice that is this world.  And I'll stand for Jesus.  I won't compromise my soul to satisfy the needs of this world or the desires of humanity.  I'll simply stand for Him and in Him, because its the only thing that will keep me from wishing every moment of the day that He had simply taken us all together-that we would have reached eternity as a whole family instead of this fractured and broken brood.

Why, my soul, are you downcast? 
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God, 
for I will yet praise him, 
my Savior and my God.  
Psalm 42:5 NIV

In Christ,
clan mac mama