Even in Darkness...

there is always the tiniest sliver of light.  We may think the darkness is absolute, the light snuffed and smothered, the lamp extinguished.  

And yet, the light is always there.  

My soul has been in despair, in a darkness that felt so absolute, I couldn't see even that tiniest sliver.  But- 

it. was. there.  

all along. 

For a long time now, I've stumbled my way through this life that I simply do not want.  I wake up most mornings filled with dread, still shocked 6 1/2 years later that THIS is my life.  I isolate, create distance, hide.  I've even gone so far as to try and hide from God.  And while it may not look like that to those around me, because I'm still standing and didn't deny the existence of a God who allowed me to have all of those beautiful children and that precious family life knowing that in one single instant it would all be reduced to ashes...

I did.  I tried to hide. 

But today, because He loves me and someone else that loves me listened to the prompting of the Holy Spirit, I remembered.  I really remembered.

He surrounds me and I am simply never alone.  

I cannot go anywhere that He is not with me. 

He knew before He formed me, before He knit me together in my mother's womb- 

He knew all that would be and all that will be.  

And in His great love and faithfulness, He wove the earthly tapestry of love and faith that would carry me in all the days, the beautiful, the messy, the lonely and most of all -  the earth shattering, heartbreaking, soul crushing days of being a grieving mother.  

Even in darkness, I will find the light.

Where can I go from your Spirit? 

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 

If i rise on the wings of the dawn, 

if I settle on the far side of the sea, 

even there your hand will guide me, 

your right hand will hold me fast. 

If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me 

and the light become night around me,"

even the darkness will not be dark to you;

the night will shine like the day, 

for darkness is as light to you.

                                                                               Psalm 139 : 7 -12   

Becca - 

we may be cousins by birth, but you- 

you are my sister in Christ and that is even more precious.  

Bless your beautiful soul for your faithfulness, 

kindness and grace. 

The Christ light you radiate is so very bright and lovely.  

And your gift to me was exactly what the Holy Spirit knew I needed.  

You listened. 

Thank you. 

All my love, 

clan mac mama 

Even in Darkness by Morgan Cheek is a grief devotional born of the faith and pain of another grieving mama.   Becca gifted it to me and it inspired me to write this post.  

Even in Darkness by Morgan Cheek is a grief devotional that my beautiful cousin Becca gifted to me.  

 

When the words won't come-

When Sam & Mercy ran ahead to Jesus, I laid my soul bare for the world to see.  I ranted and wept, I railed at the injustice of it all, I shared my faith and promised to always seek God in the journey.  For a long time I kept that promise.  

But little by little, that resolve to keep writing, keep bringing the glory to Him in the mess fell away.  Like a deciduous tree in a southern forest, my leaves dropped around me and my heart felt brittle and dry, easily pushed by the winds of the circumstances of life in a fallen world.  Exhaustion from the broken road, anger at the shambles our life was left in, discouragement a constant and ever-present cloud, the words dried up and blew away.  Pig-Pen from Charlie Brown sometimes feels like my spirit animal.  

Just when I thought things couldn't fall apart any further than they already had-

My. Dad. Died. 

Just typing those words feels wrong.  Disgusting.  Awful. Unreal. 

18 days ago, at my mom's side, I held his hand and stroked his hair, praying and sobbing, sitting, standing, pacing, rocking.  But ultimately, staring in disbelief that the man who had led our family for 51 years, an indomitable man with the heart of a lion- was slowly and quietly leaving this world.  And no amount of beseeching, begging, pleading, or bargaining with God was going to change that.  For reasons I'll never know or understand, it was time.  

So I sang him home.  With the words of his favorite song jumbled and mixed with mine, I sang to my father-

for the very last time.  

The last 2 1/2 weeks have brought IT, the ugliness of grief, all to the surface again-

the waking in disbelief, having to remind myself that this is reality now, and the bitter knowledge that I'll never again be enveloped in one of my father's famous "RRR" hugs this side of Heaven.  

My phone will never ring with his voice on the line again- when I'd answer, he'd always say, "Hey Tiff, Dad."  It always cracked me up that he'd announce himself, like I wouldn't know it was him.  

And above it all, the heartbreaking reality of my precious mama being without her person of 52 years. Sometimes I can't figure out what shatters my heart more-that he's gone or that she has to live without him.  

There are so many more words bubbling to the surface, words that may bring sadness and sorrow-or they may bring laughter and tears.  I just don't know yet.  But I know this-

I think I have to lay it all bare once more-

And I don't know if I can endure that again, but I'm not certain I'll survive this if I don't. 

I will tell of the kindnesses of the Lord, 

the deeds for which he is to be praised, 

according to all the Lord has done for us-

                                                                        Isaiah 63:7a

Dear Sammy,

your mama has been a mess.
Your little heart would be so broken today.  To see how much we have been struggling, how far we've drifted from each other, from Jesus, from who God created us to be.
Year 4 without you has just sucked. I feel like we've lived in some kind of weird vacuum, devoid of feeling, faith, and connection.
So, today on your birthday, my gift to you is this-
I renew my promise to honor God with how I live and I love, with the words I write, and in all that I do throughout each and every day.
I promise to make Year 5 of you at home with Jesus one that reminds me every day of the joy that you and Mercy wove into our family.
I promise to look at your pictures every day instead of hiding away from them.
I promise to sit with my Bible every morning, like I did when you were with me.  And I'll pretend that you are snuggled in right beside me, trying SO hard to quietly read your Bible when all you really want to do is talk to me and ask me a million questions.
I promise to find joy and laughter and light in the adventures we have as a family, carrying you and Mercy in my heart everywhere we go.
I promise to be the mama to Eva, Charley and Max that I was before you and Mercy ran ahead to Heaven, hiding God's Word in their hearts each and every day.
I promise to honor Daddy and be the Proverbs 31 wife and mama he deserves.

Today, my beautiful son, we WILL celebrate you!  We're going to look at your pictures and laugh at your videos, especially the ones where you act like a turkey and throw a fit.  We're going to the pool and the Sweet Spot, we'll ride our bikes, we might fly a kite and we definitely won't be playing miniature golf or going bowling, since you pretty much hated both of those because you couldn't win.  And Monopoly is also off the table, since throwing your cards when you didn't win that was quid pro quo.  Sweet child-you make me laugh just thinking of all the ways your giant personality invaded our family.

4 years ago today, I held you on your birthday for the last time, blissfully unaware that a mere 6 days later you'd be with our Savior.  I hold on tightly to that day, the memory of your sweet voice, your hands on my face and your little legs wrapped around my waist as I snuggled you so close on that morning, answering all your questions.



I love you, little man.  I miss you beyond infinity.
And my last promise to you is this.
I will choose joy. 

Through the praise of children and infants 

you have established a stronghold against your enemies, 

to silence the foe and the avenger. 

Psalm 8:3

I will choose Christ over the snares of the enemy.  

I will choose to love with abandon in the way both you & Mercy did.  

Every. single. day. 

Happy Birthday, my pocket baby. 

all my love, 

mama

Unconditional and simply selfless LOVE-

It's who he is, woven into the fabric of how he lives, how he loves, how he serves, he IS love.
My husband, the man who God chose for me, the father of my children, he is my love, but more importantly, he is who God appointed to raise up our babies.  
From the moment he laid eyes on each of them, he was entranced.  He adored and continues to adore them with every part of his heart and his soul.  Even as he grieves Mercy & Sam, he continues to selflessly give to Eva, Charley and Max.  He is determined to lean into Christ to sustain him as he lives and more importantly, he is determined to teach our children the same.
I wish I could find words that eloquently speak of him, that give you the picture of the man I see.  But there really aren't any-you just have to witness it.  And that's what I do, every day of my life.  I, and my children, are truly and unequivocally blessed.
Today will be a dichotomy of joy and sorrow, happiness and tears, grieving the life before and trying to find the life ahead.
One year ago today, my husband woke to his first Father's Day without 2 of his children-
it's the last of the firsts.
Today, to honor him,  I choose to share each of the most important firsts in our life.
And the last Father's Day he shared.
And the very last picture of our complete family.
I pray that today he will find joy in Eva, Charley & Max, be comforted by the memories that sustain us and find hope in the future that Christ promises us.

Charles, my love-
The Lord bless you 
and keep you;
the Lord make his face to shine on you
and be gracious to you;
the Lord turn his face toward you
and give you peace.  
                        Numbers 6:24-26  

Eva & Daddy

Eva, Daddy & Charley 

Max & Mercy joined the party!

Sweet Sammy-the best plan I never knew God had.

Celebrating the father he was and is-June 2014

Our last family photo

June 7, 2015

What was it like when I was born, mama?

That was the very last question I remember you asking me...I can still here your sing-song voice asking me as your arms were wrapped around my neck.  On your birthday, at just 5 years old, you asked me what it was like when you were born.  Honestly, I was speechless for a moment, then I whispered...
It was so quiet.  Just mama, daddy, the midwife and a corpsman.  You whispered your way out and it was just. so. quiet.
Such a contrast to the chaos a few hours before when we almost lost you-
I fought so hard for you, you know.  You did know.  I can still feel you squirming and shifting in my dry belly, hearing my whispers and knowing I was praying for you.  And you heard me, you listened and finally, after 2 days-out you came, silently sliding into the world and seamlessly into our family.
I called you my pocket baby.  I had fought so hard for you, it was incredibly hard for me to be away from you.  I took you everywhere, just like you were in my pocket.
I never expected you, you know.  Your dad and I, we would talk about having another little one, hoping we'd have a little brother for our charming mini Max-man.  But, God had other plans and he blessed us with you far sooner than we even thought possible.  Just 8 1/2 months after Max & Mercy came into this world, you became a twinkle in our eye and captured our hearts.  I laughed like a maniac when that stick turned positive, your poor dad-he cried.  Here we were, 4 kids under 6 and another on the way.  Talk about a kick in the proverbial pants!  We went from 2 to 5 kids in 17 months.  And what a journey that was.
You scared us in the womb, and I didn't know until you were born that you were truly ok.
You scared us coming out.
You almost drowned when you were 3...
then you started asking me about Heaven...I wonder if you saw Jesus then.  If you got a glimpse of that glorious face.  I still believe it was Jesus who opened Charley's eyes that day and made her see you under all that water, struggling to make your way up to the air.  You weren't breathing when Tolly pulled you out-and I thought then that it could have been the worst day of my life, never imagining that the worst day would come and I'd lose not just you, but my baby girl, my Mercy, my sweetness and light.

My goodness, you loved Jesus.  Your little boy prayers were such fragrant offerings to God and sweet music to my ears.  Hearing you recite our ABC scriptures and your Awana verses are some of my most treasured moments.  The joy on your face when you finished your Awana book-priceless.

I sure do miss singing to you.  I wish I could recall all the songs I made up when rocked-I remember thinking that I should write them down, that with all the memories a family makes when there are so many of you, I wouldn't have enough room in my brain.  And then I got busy and now I can't remember...and my heart breaks a little more.

We put your chair in Charley and Max's room.  We rock in it every night when we pray and tell you & Mercy that we love you to the moon and back.  Some nights I can barely whisper it, my soul hurts so deeply.  Charley always yells it, positive that the louder she is, the better you can hear her.  Max only makes it to that part about half the time-you know how quickly he falls asleep!   Eva kind of stares into space, I think wondering if you can really hear us.  And your daddy, well, sometimes he can say it and sometimes it's just too much.  

I sit on the back porch a lot now.  Even when it's too hot and my fingers are sweating, I love to be out here.  Your wind chimes are here and when I hear their sweet music combined with the wind and the sounds of all my birds, I swear I can feel your whispers and your sweet little hands caressing my face.  You used to take my face in your hands and make sure I was looking at you when you talked to me-I often wonder if you knew I needed to see you, really see you, because you weren't going to be here long enough...

I believe you knew.  You & Mercy.  Somewhere in your little spirits, you knew your time was short and the Holy Spirit gave you much to share, much to do and faith beyond your years.  I'll never understand why God allowed you to leave us so soon, but I'll never question His love for me.  Because without it, I'd never have had the privilege and honor of being your Mommy.  He knit you in my womb, he created your inmost being, he chose daddy and I.  He CHOSE us.  What a blessing, an extraordinary gift from an extravagantly generous God.

I'll also never believe that it was part of His plan for you & Mercy to die the way you did.  I'll always believe He had greater plans for you both, but free will and a fallen world destroyed them.  And he knew, He knew the end from the beginning and He still let us have you, hold you, love you.

Still, He will bring good.  By his mercy, He will bring joy from mourning and He will restore what the locusts have eaten.  His word promises us that redemption, promises us the restoration of the perfect world He created for us in beginning.  And until then, I'm clinging to the vine of His strength, His Word and His truth as I know it to be.  He will strengthen our family to fight the enemy from further destroying what He has given us, He will be our strong tower.  It is by His might that we will bend the bow of a fallen world and fight for the Gospel even when every ounce of our souls wants to give up.

It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure. 
He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
he causes me to stand on the heights.  
He trains my hands for battle;
my arms can bend a bow of bronze.  
                                             Psalm 18:32-34

So 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


Cupcakes for breakfast, pictures to hold...
close in my heart until I am old.
Even so old that I may barely see,
my sweet little boy will always be with me.
So many questions my little man asked,
answering them was quite a task.
Quiet, too quiet, it is here today,
we should be celebrating some special way.
A jumpy house, a pool or a park,
it's where he'd want to have his lark.
Frosted and Dairy Queen, Rucker John's too,
Treats and sweets is what he'd want to do.
So today, as my tears cover my face,
I'll think of you in your heavenly place.
And pray that in all that I do and say,
I honor you on your precious day.

The beginning-June 4, 2010

 Finally, June 5, 2010

Your 1st birthday-June 5, 2011

Always in the water, where you loved to be!

Your first cupcake!

 

Your 2nd birthday, June 5, 2012

We celebrated with the Blue Crabs, pool time at Nana & Papa's and Haley's graduation!

And a little putt-putt on Father's Day!

Your 3rd birthday, June 5, 2013

Parks, ice cream treats and nighttime basketball!

Your 4th birthday, June 5, 2014

Crazy time at Jump-in-Jax, capped off with park fun and cupcakes with all your best pals!

 Your 5th birthday, June 5, 2015

Scooters, legos, hexbugs and a pool party...

Sweet boy, mama misses you so much.  I'll forever hold these moments and every minute I was blessed with your life close in my heart-waiting with bated breath until I can hold you once again.
Happy Birthday in Heaven, my pocket baby.   I'll bet you're holding His face in your hands and asking so many questions-and He's holding you right back and answering every one of them with grace, light, beauty and truth.

all my love,
mama

There are holes in the floor of heaven…

and their tears are falling down... 

I should have known they’d be with me.  Someway, somehow, They always are.  

  

It’s my first visit to Tennessee since “the accident.”  

My first trip without my other half.  My anchor.  My Charles.  

The other anchor in my life, my other sweet Sammy, rode shotgun today, sniffling, sneezing and snotting the entire 11 hour trip.  She sat beside me, heart pounding, anxiety mounting, as we treacherously inched through a raging rainstorm with one headlight, fog, mist and almost zero visibility.  She hunched beside me as I gripped the wheel and I prayed over and over and over again-

Jesus-please. 

Jesus-be near-

Jesus-cover us in your grace, your protection, your mercy.  

Jesus-PLEASE.  keep them safe-keep them covered-guide them to safety.  

Because in front of me were 2 of the 3 children I have left on this earth. 2 of my precious babies were in a car, in front of me, in some of the  most dangerous conditions I’ve ever driven in.  

2 OF MY 3.   

I simply couldn’t breathe.  

And when we got here, to her home, the one my kids had never seen…it hit me like a freight train.  Mercy and Sam were never physically here- 

and yet, here they were.  On every wall, in every room, on almost every surface.   bits and pieces and memories. Everywhere.  

And it hurt.  Like you wouldn’t believe, it stung.  My sister, their aunt, not me, their mom-seemed to have more ways to remember them in her home than I did.  Little pictures dotted almost every surface & wall, butterflies peeking out, superheroes smiling, a lovely little corner of their things.  

So I escaped.  I hopped in the car, bound for the grocery, as usual.  Tears poured down my face in the blur of the night...and the radio that had sat silent the entire day- it suddenly beckoned me.  

Seek me. 

Search me. 

Find me.  

And I did.  

For the first time in at least 10 years, THIS. SONG. PLAYED.  

‘Cause there's holes in floor of Heaven…

and her tears are pourin' down. 

That’s how you know she’s watching’

Wishing she could be here now...

And sometimes if you’re lonely

Just remember she can see

There’s holes in the floor of Heaven

And she’s watchin’ over you and me

So I had another hissy fit-(to which I firmly believe I am completely entitled.)

I told Him again, for the thousandth time, how outraged I was.  How completely infuriated I was with His lack of a miracle for my babies.  How they don't belong in Heaven in yet, THEY BELONG WITH ME.

This is not supposed to be my life…

Yet it is.  

So I thirst like a withering vine in the desert for any tiny reminder, any little “sign,” any shred of a memory or moment.  I cling desperately to the little things.  

Like songs from decades ago-songs that remind my lonely heart that my precious little people are still and will always be with me, that He is with me, walking beside me, carrying me, drying my tears and gently reminding me that they are NOT gone, they are just waiting for me.  

In Heaven. 

Dammit-I'm stuck here, I'm left here, beseeching Him, actually... BEGGING HIM...for the peace to trust His voice, hear His whispers and fulfill His plans.  

I’ll wait here, fighting with all I am for what is left of my family and believing in His promises.  

I’ll wait here, safe in the knowledge that He created me knowing I would live this life and He will walk/carry/drag me through it, one single moment at a time.  (He might well be doing some dragging right now.) 

Quite simply, I know it’s not a coincidence that I write- in His infinite wisdom, He knew it would help me find my center someday in a painfully topsy turvy world.  He knew I’d use it somehow and He knew every one of you would read it.  Because He. knows. us.  He knows every choice our lives will be directed by, so He creates us to survive them if we fall into His arms and beg Him to show us the way.  He KNOWS we are fatally flawed, He knows we will fall, and He loves us in spite of it all.  Because He created us to serve Him for the number of days we will walk this earth.  And He knew my babies would be in His care far too soon-

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

Which means that I must remain squarely in His care. 

So I will open my eyes and my heart WIDE-alert for every little reminder, overwhelmed with the love my sister and each member of my family has poured out over us and covered us with as we faced our first season of our Savior without Mercy and Sam.  

I will study and memorize every picture I see here, I will turn every corner and see their faces.  I will hold Sammy's blanket and Mercy's skirt, I will inhale what remains of their scent and be thankful.  That they will never be forgotten, not ever.  And that when I am too weak and weary to build my little remembrances-my family will do it for me, holding me up, anchoring my heart and preserving my loves.   One memory, one memento, one picture at a time.  

With love,
clan mac mama

Walking in my shoes...

I read a poem recently about the shoes I walk in.
The shoes I never wanted to wear-
the ones of a grieving mother.

And then I thought...
What about HIS shoes?  The grieving father and the shoes HE must wear?  The man whose heart is just as broken as mine-yet he stands in the shadows with his grief while the world comforts the grieving mother?
What about HIM?
It's SO not just me.

My husband- he is the shattered, grieving father in the darkness... in the midst of this nightmare.
So many times, helplessly, I watch the man who leads our family sobbing and broken.  It's gut wrenching to try and hear him when he can barely speak the words he needs to get out.  What's it like for him?  To put on that uniform every day and have to walk into the office where he would sometimes take our kids for a bit while I went to appointments or ran errands.  The place where he took them for the kid version of "Jane Wayne" day every single year.  That place where people just laughed as they watched the little fire team and a spare literally march by.  To have to drive, EVERY DAY, by the spot where we were standing when we got THE call.  To know he has to drive by the stupid Polaris dealership every. single. day. and see their proud display of that damn death trap that killed our kids.  To sit and watch him with his head in his hands because he simply can't fill out another piece of paper to inform YET ANOTHER person/agency/entity/organization that his children have DIED.  To see the regret etched in his eyes for the times he was gone, the memories he missed because of deployments, schools, PCS moves, classes…you name it.
What's it like to know your children are no longer of this world and you can't change it, fix it, mend it, patch it…nothing?  There isn't a single. solitary. thing. you can do.  And for a father?  That is simply the worst part of it all.  That he. can't. fix. this.

His son doesn't have a brother anymore, his son doesn't have a twin to share his life with.  His daughters don't have their sidekicks to plan every holiday months in advance, invent new games, dress up and hide in forts and corners with, watch scooby marathons with, simply GROW UP with.
And
he.
can't.
fix.
it.

We took the kids to the movies a while back.
It sucked.
We both spent the entire movie remembering what it was like when we took the 5 of them-the popcorn juggling, candy fighting, potty breaks, spilled drinks-
it was just too quiet.  Too easy.
Every. single. day.  It's just too damn quiet.

Every day, my husband, their father, aches for what was, what should have been and what will never be here on this earth.

The daughter he will never walk down the aisle, the son he will never see serve Christ, his family or  his country, the grandchildren he will never know.  But most importantly, the baptisms we will never share with them.  That moment when they come to Christ, when they CHOOSE Him, when they choose JOY and share it with those they love.   Don't get me wrong, they LOVED Jesus, but they hadn't walked forth in baptism yet.  They were so little!  Baptism just beginning to be a concept they could grasp.
Clearly, they've already gone to Christ.  The last thing any parent truly wants…baptism by way of actually meeting Christ.  Forever.

And yet, Jesus said...
      "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."
                        Matthew 19:14

It's amazing to me how God created the human body and mind, preparing it for those times when it would be overwhelmed by the circumstances and choices of this fallen world.  He created it to withstand the insanity that threatens the human mind when it is simply overtaken by pain too great to bear...He gave us-
Shock-
And I'd venture to say we're both overwhelmingly grateful for it now.  Beyond thankful for the time we were numb and could show infinitely more grace than we, alone, could ever be capable of.  That shock was truly God's gift and provision for preserving what was left of our sanity.  Some days, I'd give my left arm to have it back.  And I know Charles would too.

So many days, shock seems like it would be so much easier. To just go back to that place of numbness and just putting one foot in front of the other.

Because when you're still in shock, it's not real.
And we just don't want it to be real.  And maybe, for a tiny window of time, all the moving and chaos of finding a home let it be "unreal" for just a little bit longer.

All of a sudden-it's been almost 5 months now. We've changed seasons, the time has fallen back, the holidays are upon us.  We live in home they never lived in.  We sleep and wake, eat and play, cry and laugh...we LIVE here in a home that never knew them.
Bless the hearts of every one of you who wants to know if we are settled...
No.
We'll never be settled.  Ever.  Not until we are all settled, once again, as a complete family in one place.  Reunited, every tear wiped away, all our sorrows forever forgotten, in our forever home with Christ.

     "And God shall wipe away all the tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."
                                                                                                              Revelation 21:4


And if I'm really honest, I'll tell you that they are starting to feel like a dream.  A really wonderful dream that we lived for 6 1/2 years.  
Because, truthfully...I can still barely look at their pictures.  Watching a video of them is impossible. And just holding their clothes can make me sob uncontrollably.

So I don't.  And Charles doesn't.  But our kids need us to, and truly, our hearts need us to.  So we will.  One image, one captured memory, one piece of their lives...at a time.  We'll walk, in tiny...itty bitty...baby steps...
of the shoes we must wear.  

     "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." 
                                                                                             Matthew 5:4

Finding hope and joy in the daily presence of Christ, despite our circumstances, that will be the greatest blessing we can receive.

But, please, please, please, share with us your memories.  Your laughter.  Your moments.  Tell us about our babies.  Remember them, laugh about them, keep them alive in your hearts, your lives and your spirits.  Share those photos, tell those silly stories.  Help us take those baby steps.  Help us find comfort in not only who they were, but more importantly, who they are now.

And finally-
I know I've been quiet, not posting or sharing.  It simply wasn't time.  And I knew it was time when the Lord placed this verse on my heart-

      After the earthquake, there came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.  And after the fire came a gentle whisper. 

                                           1 Kings 19:12

My heart needed a quiet, humble place in which to listen.  To listen for whispers He provides.  To listen for the quiet breeze on which He sends the Holy Spirit.  

My heart needs Him.  My mouth will praise Him.  My life will serve Him.  And by both their births and their deaths, our family will serve him by ensuring the lives of Mercy and Sam will continue to glorify Him, spread His truth, share His love, live in His peace and glorify His saving grace.

     I will extol the Lord at all time, 
           his praise will always be on my lips. 
     I will glory in the Lord;
          let the afflicted hear and rejoice.  
     Glorify the Lord with me; 
          let us exalt his name together.  
                                           Psalm 34:1-3


Each prayer that is offered is a life giving affirmation of love- so, please continue!  Not just for our family, but for every family that is walking in these horribly ill-fitting shoes of grief.

With love and by His Grace,
clan mac mama