My sweet little son just asked me if he could...

"go back to that place, you know, the one where Mercy & Sam's bodies are?"
Umm…
I was speechless for just a minute, then recovered enough to try and give that sweet little 6 year old boy an answer that would make sense to his confused mind and broken heart.
To say today was difficult might be a bit of understatement.
EVERY. SINGLE. THING. stung like a sharply honed knife twisted in the festering wound of our hearts.
When I picked him up from his playtime with a friend today, his first words to me after he tackled me with a hug-
"I miss Mercy and Sam, Mama."
This was followed by the conversation at dinner during which he quizzed me about whether their bodies were still here, could we go back to "that place" and see them, or "are their bodies in heaven now?"
I swear my life mostly feels like the Twilight Zone.
I seriously wake up EVERY. DAY. sick to my stomach, exhausted and certain that this must be a nightmare and I WILL. WAKE. UP.
Right?
I'll wake up and Mercy and Sammy will be standing at my bedside, staring me in the face and scaring the stink out of me as I startle awake.
I'll wake up and they'll be in the kitchen, raiding the Nutella and bread.
I'll wake up and they'll be in the playroom, building a fort and having a castle battle.
I'll wake up and THEY WON'T BE DEAD.
Right?
Nope.
This is my life now.
This is my story.
I spend my days worried that my 2 sweet, kind, formerly naive daughters have PTSD and that my son will marry the first woman who tells him what to do and how much she loves him…all because he misses his bossy twin and is so lonely his heart just hurts.
I spend my days wondering exactly what in the bloody heck we are supposed to do now.
Everything is different.
Nothing is the same.
Not
one
single
thing.
Yesterday, I sat on the floor holding a sobbing child who couldn't even catch her breath because she was crying so hard.
All because school days remind her of Mercy & Sammy.  And how much she misses them.
2 days ago, I had to take the iPod from a miserable tween who just tries to hide herself in it when she realizes how lonely she is and how much she misses her little tribe.
Today, I had to analyze how every single decision we make is affecting how they are handling this, how we are helping them to handle it and how completely broken we are as parents, in our marriage and in our lives.
Simply put-this is a royal mess.
And I AM ANGRY.
THIS is not how it's supposed to be.

It's fall now.
We should be picking pumpkins, planning costumes, riding on hay wagons and competing in costume contests.  We should have gone to Great Wolf Lodge with our friends.
We're not.
And I AM ANGRY.
I am not better, it's not easier.
Still, I can't look at their pictures.  I can't watch videos.  I can't even hold Sammy's pillow right now or pick up Mercy's ballet shoes.
Because it makes me MORE ANGRY.
Angry that this is my life.  And my husband's life.  And Eva, Charley and Max's lives.
I want to see the good.  I want to praise Him in this storm.

And I have.
I will.
I must.
There is simply no other option.
So I will give it ALL to HIM.  To the one who can heal.  The one who can mend.  The one who is sovereign.
He knew, He knows, He IS.

"One bold message in the book of Job is that you can say anything to God. Throw at him your grief, your anger, your doubt, your bitterness, your betrayal, your disappointment -- he can absorb them all. As often as not, spiritual giants of the Bible are shown contending with God. They prefer to go away limping, like Jacob, rather than to shut God out."

~Philip Yancey, Disappointment with God

I'm not just limping, I'm broken.  WE are broken.  All of us.  I've said it all, I'll say it all again.  Because this isn't a simple 3 step process-

1. Children die.

2. Grieve.

3. Move on. 

It's a circle.  An INFINITE circle of grieving what should have, what could have been and what will never be.  

There is no moving on.  There is just learning to, somehow…someday... live again.  And we simply aren't there yet.  How do I know?  Because last night, I laid prostrate in the middle of a wood floor and howled myself into a snot covered, filthy, exhausted mess of a mama.  And tonight I want to get an ax and chop down every tree in my yard.  

Maybe then I'll sleep.  From the sheer exhaustion of the physical exertion-maybe then I can sleep.  

I dreamed of Mercy last night.  But I didn't get to hold her.  Instead, I lost her.  And when, finally I had found her, she was just out of my reach.  

Just. out. of. my. reach.  

Do you know what the Holy Spirit whispered to me in that dream last night?  If this anger consumes me in it's fiery furnace, Mercy and Sammy will ALWAYS be out of my reach. For now and forever more.  

So.  

I need your prayers.  I need mine.  But most of all?  

I need Jesus.  

I need to let Him hold me, mend me, and carry my burden.  

Carry it, Jesus.  PLEASE.  

Just carry it.  

28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Matthew 11:28-30

I give You my burdens. 

Help me, Jesus.  Help me. 

love, 

clan mac mama

   

skies a-painted in tie dye sunsets,

His whispers calm those last regrets.
Sammy's scent on a bumblebee pillow,
tears falling like the leaves of a willow.
butterflies flitting here and there,
memories, memories, everywhere.
cardinals resting in the trees,
shattered dreams drop me to my knees.
words of wisdom from God Most High,
to my beaten, broken heart, a lullaby.
the healing power of His Holy Grace,
evident in every place.
What good, I asked, could come from this?
Watch and wait, He says, don't miss-

My grace.
My peace.
My gentle bliss.

He reveals deep and hidden things;
he knows what lies in darkness,
and light dwells with him.
Daniel 2:22

Indeed.  

Light. 

dwells.

with.

Him.  

The alcoholic healed by His grace. 

The dying woman who sought His face. 

The tired old man who changed his ways,

blessed was he with brighter days.  

The roads we walk, the shoes we wear, 

together he brings us close to share…

the burdens of this fallen place, 

so that, well indeed, we'll finish the race.  

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 

2 Timothy 4:7

Finishing the race well?

Eternity never meant so much until 2 of my precious children died.  

Then I understood what it meant for God to watch His. only. begotten. Son. DIE.  

For me. 

For you. 

I promise you, it's a pain I wouldn't wish on anyone, ever.  

And God caused himself that pain… by choice!

If I thought I was in awe of our God before? 

I simply had no clue.  

I write because He gives me words to speak.  Precious words that can only come from Him, through my heart and hands, for His glory.  

What will you do for His glory today? What will I?  

love, 
clan mac mama

  

Our life on 2 26 ft trailers...

that's what is in the driveway of our new house.  

A house I never wanted, in a place I wanted to come back to in 3 years.  When we were done at Parris Island and ready to start yet another USMC adventure.  With all FIVE of our kids.  

When they called on Friday and said they could deliver them 5 days early, I wanted to feel blessed.  I wanted to be grateful.  Instead, I felt like I was going to vomit and pass out all at the same time.  

Our life is on those trucks.  Our old life.  The one where we were happy and had 5 amazing kids.  The one where we couldn't really believe how blessed we were.  The one where our biggest worries were homeschooling and then paying for college for our kids, what we'd do when Charles retired, whether or not our kids would rebel or stay true to the Lord, if they'd move away or stay close, if we'd finally answer the call to adoption on our hearts, if we might finally get to take a trip alone, just the 2 of us, for our 20 year anniversary.  That life where we loved Jesus, went to church and prayed about how we were going to glorify Him in our new home, a place we really didn't want to go, but were going anyway, because the USMC said so.  

This life?  It gives a WHOLE NEW MEANING to loving Jesus.  Because, let me tell you something…loving the Lord is SO easy when it feels like you're just. so. blessed!   New job?  I'm just so blessed!  New home?  I'm just so blessed!  Won an award?  I'm just so blessed!  Had a great day?  I'm just so blessed!  5 healthy kids?  I'm just so blessed!  Career success? I'm just so blessed!

Wait.  2 of my children died.  

Blessed?  Do I feel blessed?  

In a million ways, I actually do.  But is it an automatic thought?  Seriously?  NO.  

Am I blessed?  Well, duh.  I still have 3 amazing kids, a fantastic husband and a whole potful of people who love the heck out of us.  I have food on my table, clothes on my back, a warm bed to sleep in and a community of believers that still amazes me.  

But….loving God is so much simpler when you think He gives you what you want, what you "deserve", what you decide you need.  It's a whole new ball of wax when the tables turn and you're the tragic story on the news.  Talk about NOT FEELING SO BLESSED.  

Back to the automatic thought thing.  

I have to CHOOSE to feel blessed right now.  I have to CHOOSE to be thankful.  I have to CHOOSE to accept God's grace and peace in a time that feels like hell on earth.  When my whole body feels like it's covered by a 5,000 lb concrete slab and I just. can't. breathe.  

Am I choosing it every minute of every day?  

Again, NO.

But, am I choosing it some of the minutes of my day?  

YES.  

Tonight I chose to ask for prayer from some prayer warriors-I CHOSE to ask for them to intercede for me in my anger, my sadness and and my frustration.  

And they did.  And instead of breaking sh*t and yelling and sobbing, I'm typing this.  Because they prayed for me and I felt it.  I was covered by the power of the Holy Spirit that spoke into my heart. 

So…am I blessed?  Always.  

Does it make my days easier or take my heartache away?  Unfortunately, NO.  But it gives me this….

Hope.  

Hope that I will find grace and forgiveness.  Hope that I will be a good and faithful servant to the God who created me.  Hope that I will exercise my free will in a way that brings honor and glory to the one who created it all.  And finally, HOPE…that God's love will be more so much more powerful than any pain I feel and that I will allow it to heal me, and my husband, and my children.  

Thank you, Kellie, for letting the Holy Spirit prompt you when you sent this to me for the 2nd time in 2 days…

I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry.  

He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.  

He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.  

Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the Lord.  

Psalm 40:1-3

So I will wait.  

I will praise.  

I will stand upon His rock.  The only rock that can support my 5,000 lb weight and take it from me.  

2 26 ft trucks.  

Filled with an old life.  

Please pray for the new one.  For the steep incline of the mountain we have yet to climb, the valleys of grief we will fall into and the bumpy, cobbled road we'll travel for now and maybe, for a very long time.    

With love, 

forever the clan mac mama of the 5 many mini macs

Waking up crying...

is how I start most days lately.  As the shock has worn off, I'm like a wound with no scab-constantly bruised by the littlest reminders.  This morning it was Max being funny and eating his cereal like a dog…it reminded me of the pudding eating contest at the Chocolate Festival that Mercy tried so valiantly to win.  I even remember what I wore that day, where we ate, how much fun we had and how much junk we stuffed our faces with.  The kids thought they had woken up in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory and their parents had lost their minds!

Yesterday was our first official "school day."  For the first time in 6 years, I didn't have to clamor about over the din to accomplish even the smallest of tasks.
It. was. awful.
Not the teaching my sweet kiddos part, but the quiet.  The deafening quiet that has invaded my days, my home, my children.   The sadness on Max's face every morning when he wakes up to the realization that he's all alone in his morning ritual of waking Mommy up.  His best friend isn't here to build a lego tower with, be the bad guy or dress up like a superhero…all before the sun rises.  His twin isn't here to jump into the middle of it all and change it all around to her way, all while convincing her brothers it was her idea.

Fall used to be my absolute favorite time of year.  The crispness of the air, sweet smells of baking, hours spent planning for Halloween, Nutcracker rehearsals and anticipation, saturday morning Upward football with my littles, the breathtaking colors of the trees and the world around us, filled with the beauty and wonder of God's creation.

Now I dread the start of everything.  Because it's all a reminder of the memories we won't make with Mercy and Sammy.  The questions I won't get peppered with, the wonders they won't point out.  The Christmas presents I don't have to buy, the constant juggling of 5 little people that I no longer have to do.

I beg God to show me His purpose.  I beg Him to show me Mercy and Sammy in my dreams.  I beg Him to turn back the clock, to give me another chance to be a better wife and mommy and everything else.  I simply BEG Him to take this pain away.  
For 2 weeks I haven't journaled to my Creator a single word.
I haven't been able to find the strength to say much of anything.
I've simply begged, I've screamed, I've cried, I've raged so loudly I think they can hear me down the street.
This is NOT SUPPOSED TO BE MY LIFE.
So now I'll beg God for this.
For the grace to wait on Him, to trust Him,  to let Him lead me, to let His words speak to my heart and to the hearts of my beloved husband and children.  I'll pray for the JOY of My Lord to invade my heart.  And it's not the joy you're thinking of.  Joy is far deeper than happiness, happiness is something that I'll never fully feel again this side of Heaven. But JOY?  It's far deeper than the happiness that we find in our circumstances.  Joy is the presence of God within us, contemplation of His plans for our future, and the willingness to let Him lead the way.

My sister just sent this…at just the right moment, to speak His Word into my heart…

Fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, 
for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you, 
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.  
Isaiah 41:10

Strengthen me, Jesus.  I'm just too broken to do any of this without You.

with love,
clan mac mama