Recent Pictures

Caleb loved his first basketball season.

Caleb recited Shel Silverstein's "Pirate Captain Jim" for his school's poetry recital

What a sugar.

3 cuties all coincidentally dressed in green

Anna's preferred sitting position

A couple of weeks ago Bryan went to Ecuador with Operation Christmas Child to deliver OCC boxes.  He had a fabulous, faith-growing time.  Hopefully I can post some of his pictures from his time there.  Bryan came home with these Ecuador soccer jerseys for the boys.

Happy eater

Anna fell asleep like this (sitting up and folded over) after her nighttime sleep was interrupted by 45 minutes in the tiny, downstairs half-bath with all 5 members of her family during the tornado sirens.  Good times were had by all.  :)

After a family walk

Anna found the pacifier that belongs to the beloved Cabbage Patch doll of my childhood.  She tried it out herself and seemed to like it, but it's no Gumdrop paci.

It's been a long time since Bryan made special pancakes for the boys, but this weekend he made Arthur from The Sword and the Stone...

...and Merlin as well

She was on her way back down when I snapped this, but she is pulling up on everything these days.  She does it in her crib and then looks SOOOOO proud when I go in to help her lay back down.  She cracks me up.

Tired of the highchair and adorable even when she cries.

Our little Anna Pea has a clogged tear duct, hence the frequent pictures with tears pouring down her cheeks. (The tear ducts serve as drains for the tears, and with nowhere for the tears to go, they overflow.) Our pediatrician says it is VERY unlikely it will open on its own since it didn't open by the time she was 6 months.  Unfortunately, she will probably need minor surgery to correct it.  Our ped says it's the simplest of procedures, but it does require general anesthesia.  Guess whether or not I'm excited about Anna going under.  I am praying that it opens on its own, though I know that's not a likely outcome.

Cheerio Rejection

Anna hadn't met a food she didn't like until she tried Cheerios.  This cracked me up!

The Samuels of Life

After suffering two miscarriages within three months, I started bleeding six weeks into my third pregnancy since Joel's birth.  I was convinced I was miscarrying again, and I laid on our bed and wept until I fell asleep.  When I woke up a few hours later, I remember thinking, "Well, if I'm going to lose this baby, I'd rather lose it now than later, and I'd definitely rather have another miscarriage than go through an entire pregnancy, birth this baby, and then lose him or her.  It could be worse.  This at least is better than that.  Lord, if I'm going to lose this baby, let it be now and not later."

I didn't miscarry.  That baby was Samuel, and I of course had no idea that we would go through exactly what I would have called the worst-case scenario, exactly what I prayed against.  But I would have been so wrong.  Miscarrying would not have been better.  I wouldn't have been spared the worst.  Instead, I would have missed out on the very best gift I could have gotten.  I would have missed out on Samuel.  I would have missed out on all he taught me, on all the ways God grew me and continues to grow me, on loving and knowing my beloved third son.  I would have missed it all and never known it.

I think so often we pray against the hard stuff of life.  We pray that God will spare us from heartbreak and suffering and loss and pain and hardship and sickness and sorrow and waiting and grief.  We pray that God will bless us with health, family, friendship, happiness, and prosperity...a life of ease and heaps of earthly blessings.  We ask Him to make the road smooth and our path unencumbered.

But I think we're missing something when we do that.  Perhaps it's faith -- faith that God knows what is best and can be trusted, that's He's good no matter what our circumstances are, that He is truly who He says He is and we can rest in Him, that He will give us what we need to face whatever lies ahead.  When we pray against the hard stuff, we forget that it's the broken places that produce the best stuff.  It's the heartbreak that leads to compassion, the suffering that leads to endurance, the loss that leads to contentment, the pain that leads to depth, the hardship that leads to peace, the sickness that leads to truer faith, the sorrow that leads to courage, the waiting that leads to patience, the grief that leads to greater love.  The very things we hope to avoid are the ones that refine us, that show us Jesus in previously unimagined ways, that deepen us, that solder us to God, that purify us.

Without fail, the hardest parts of my story are some of the most beautiful.  And if God had granted my prayers and the prayers of people who love me, I wouldn't have those chapters to my story, and I wouldn't be who I am.  I am deeply grateful for those hardships and how God has used them to shape me and change me and call me to Himself.  I shudder to think of my life without them.  What blessing and richness I would have missed out on if the suffering in my life was removed.

Honestly, I consider myself the most blessed momma in the whole world to have been given Samuel.  Probably from someone else's shoes I would read my story and think, "Oh, Lord, thank You for sparing me from that.  Thank You that it wasn't me."  But from my shoes, I say, "Oh, Lord, thank You from the depths of my being that You chose ME to be Samuel's mommy.  From all the people in the world, you chose ME to carry him, to birth him, to love him with all my heart, to sit by his side every possible moment I could during his month of life, to hand him over to you when his time on earth was finished, to cherish him in my heart all the days of my life.  You could have entrusted him to anyone, and You chose me.  Thank You, thank You, thank You."  I don't ask, "Why me?" in anguish; I say, "Thank You that it is me" in pure gratitude.

I'm challenged, since Samuel, to pray differently -- to lay my hands open and ask God for the courage to embrace whatever He has for me instead of beseeching him to spare me from the unseemly.   I want to walk what He has, not make a detour around the difficult and heartbreaking chapters.  I want to welcome His will for my life and the work He wants to do in my heart, not skate over the hardship and grief.  I want to trust Him enough to lay aside my hopes and wishes and instead ask for His hopes and wishes for me because I know that they are far better than anything I could desire.  I want the Samuels of life, not the free passes or diminished pain.  I want whatever it is that God wants for me. And I don't want to ask Him to spare me from it; instead I simply want the courage and faith to face it with His grace. 

"Oh, Lord, I want what You want.  Grant me the courage to accept whatever that may be.  Give me the faith to trust You regardless of circumstances, and grant me a malleable heart that I may learn whatever it is You want to teach me.  Help me not to fear hardship and sacrifice and suffering.  Help me instead to lean on You when those things come my way.  Give me the grace to embrace Your will for my life and to praise You every step of the way.  I open my hands, and I give you my life without exception.  Amen."

A Valentine Short

Most days, most of the day, I am joyful, content, and full-hearted.  But there are moments when grief creeps up unexpectedly.  A couple of weeks ago, Samuel would have turned two and half, driving home from church on Sunday, "Blessed Be Your Name" came on the radio, and days like today, Valentine's Day, I think about how there should be one more valentine on the table.  Missing Samuel is a normal part of life, but there are moments when the longing is poignant.

A few days ago, Joel and I were sitting on the living room floor together reading the journal I keep for him.  (I keep a journal for each of my kids.  I write periodically about their recent doings or sayings, and I write a letter to them every year on their birthday.)  As I was reading to Joel, I felt overwhelmed with nostalgia for what was, for the baby boy and little boy he used to be.  As I choked back tears, I couldn't help but think how I missed all those precious things with Samuel -- all those things only a momma really knows.  And I thought about how someday these precious young days with Anna will be behind me.  I am an extremely commemorative person, and I rue the passage of time in general.  I always want to hold on tight to the present because it feels like it's slipping away.  And with little kids and especially babies, it whisks by in a flash, and I can never have it back.  Thinking of what has already passed -- the first years with Caleb and Joel, Samuel's whole life -- I felt overwhelmed with sorrow and longing and heartbreak.  It was one of those rare out-of-time moments when you can see life clearly from a birds' eye view, if only for a the span of a few heartbeats. It makes me grateful that I soaked up every second I could while Samuel was living, that we created happy memories in the midst of fear and sadness.  That month with Samuel felt like a lifetime in so many ways, though of course it wasn't nearly enough time -- no amount of time with a son or daughter could ever be enough.

I miss that sweet Samuel of mine.  And as often as I imagine what life would be like if he was here, I have no idea how different our family would feel or life would really be if he was with us still.  Nothing will ever fill the Samuel-shaped void in our lives.  And that's as it should be.  Though I miss him, I still have incredible peace in life without him.  And every time I look at Anna, I thank God for how she continues to heal our hearts, to make grief more bearable and this family closer to complete.  I am so glad that this year I have three little Valentines to smother with kisses and cuddles.  And someday when I'm in Heaven too, my fourth little valentine will get his share of those!

Anna Antics

Here is a video of Anna Pea crawling, squeaking, and generally being loved on by her brothers.  It's a pretty accurate depiction of life and how adored Anna girl is.  What a joy she is!

CHD Awareness

February is CHD Awareness Month, and a dear friend of mine is working with some other heart moms to put together a CHD pinterest board.  You can check it out here.  CHD (Congenital Heart Defects) are the #1 birth defect with 1 out of 100 children affected. 

I remember taking Joel to see our pediatrician, Dr. Roy, a couple of months after Samuel died.  When he realized I was Samuel's mom, his eyes filled with compassion, and he put his hand on my arm and told me how sorry he was.  He knows Dr. V, Samuel's pediatric cardiologist, and Dr. V sent him updates all throughout Samuel's life.  Apparently Dr. Roy followed all the diagnoses, Samuel's progress, and everything that happened during his 31 days.  I will never forget him telling me, "Maybe if Samuel had been born in 20 years, he would have survived.  I think the things Samuel suffered from are some of the things medical advances will really be able to help someday."  Perhaps raising CHD awareness will be part of those advances.  So pass the pinterest board along!

(Pinterest is an online pinboard where you can "pin" pictures with captions to be viewed and shared by others.  You can read about the CHD pinboard here.)

Dedicating Anna

Yesterday we dedicated Anna to the Lord.  At our church, when you dedicate a baby, you have to come up with five things that you specifically want to pray for your child.  We cheated and chose six.  :)  They encourage us to pull them out every year at the child's birthday and see how we as parents are doing at instilling these values in our child.  It's a great idea.  Here is what we are praying for our Anna Pea.

Our Hearts' Desires for Anna

Anna means "full of mercy, grace, and prayer."

Mercy -- We pray that Anna would be full of mercy, that she would exude compassion, kindness, gentleness, and tenderness for all people -- both those "to whom much has been given" (Luke 12:48) as well as "the least of these" (Matthew 25:40). 

Grace -- We long for Anna to be full of grace.  We pray that she would receive Christ's gift of grace (Ephesians 2:8-9) and would in turn demonstrate it willingly and unconditionally to those around her.  We want for Anna's actions, words, and thoughts to be seasoned with grace.

Prayer -- We hope that Anna's life will be marked by prayer -- that she will go to God in prayer over everything: joys, thanksgiving, hopes, fears, trials, pain, longing, uncertainty, and doubt (Philippians 4:6-7).  We long for her to know the intimacy with God that springs from a prayerful life and pray that her first inclination in all circumstances is to go on her knees before Jesus -- for herself, others, and the world. 

Wisdom -- We pray that Anna will be a woman of wisdom, that she will embody the Proverbs 31 woman, "When she speaks, her words are wise, and kindness is the rule when she gives instructions."  We hope that Anna will be able to discern what is wise and what is foolish and that she will firmly place her feet upon the path of wisdom (Proverbs 4).

Faith -- We pray that Anna will put her faith in Jesus Christ from a young age, that she will be ever confident that God is with her (Zephaniah 3:17), that she will trust that His ways are higher than her ways (Isaiah 55:8-9), and that she can take refuge in the shelter of His wings (Psalm 61:3-4).  We pray that she will have the peace of God that accompanies a complete and genuine faith in Him.

Love -- We want Anna's life to be characterized by love for God and people.  As she is the recipient of the greatest love imaginable (John 3:16, I John 3:16, I John 4:10), we hope she will extend love to others, caring more about them than about herself.  As Christ loves her, we hope she will love those around her.

One of the things I love about Anna is the roundedness of her profile -- round head, round button nose, round cheeks, round chin...adorable.

Happy, loved girl

With the fabulous Thiels (minus Dave).  The Thiels are the people who are moving away, incidentally.  Dave is already in Texas.  I still can't stand to think about it.  Jonathan and Emily (the "kids") will still be in Georgia as Jonathan has a job here, and Emily is a junior at UGA, but losing Dave and Colleen will be a mighty, mighty blow.  They're the only family we have in town, and we are so crazy about them.

Love Bugs

Dear Anna

Dear Anna,

Oh, sweet girl, I am crazy about you.  I can't begin to tell you how very much I love you because there just aren't words for it.  You are an incredible blessing.

Right now we're in the middle of "just-Anna-and-me week."  The boys are all in Texas, and I'm loving every minute of my week with you.  I look at you and tear up because my heart is bursting with love.  You are the baby I longed for, the one I begged God for.  You are the answer to my prayers.

On June 25, 2008 I found out I was pregnant for the third time, but it wasn't until three years later to the day, June 25, 2011, that I had a healthy baby of mine in my arms.  In those three years we had two miscarriages, sweet Samuel, and a year of trying for you.  Though full of growth and God's faithfulness and presence, those three years were really, really hard and heartbreaking.  I wasn't sure we would ever be able to have another child, and how desperately I longed for one.  And then God gave us YOU.  You, Anna Patricia Apinis, are my answered prayer.

We have all been amazed at how you ease the ache in our souls, how you make life brighter, grief lighter, and hope more tangible.  You are a healing force in our family -- we can't help but experience healing when we look at you, hold you, and kiss you.  I've seen you transform all of us -- Daddy, Caleb, Joel, and me.  It's miraculous what God has done through you, and I can't thank Him enough.

But Anna, I want you to know that we don't just love you because you're Samuel's baby sister.  We love you because you are you.  We love YOU -- who you are, how you are, just the way you are.  I love your huge smile, the way you stop crying the instant you're in my arms, your deep, guttural laugh that seems to spring from the depths of your belly, your delight in your big brothers, your gorgeous big blue-brown eyes that strangers regularly compliment, your adoring looks at me and Daddy, your sweet turned up nose with its tiny divot, your love for your bunny, your cry that is impossible to ignore, and your heart-melting dimples.  Anna, I love the way God made you.

I pray for you every day, Anna Button, and I pray that your life would reflect the meaning of your name -- that you would be full of mercy, grace, and prayer.  I long for you to know and trust Jesus, to follow after Him all the days of your life.  I pray that you will be a woman of wisdom, love, kindness, compassion, honor, purity, and faith.  I pray that you will find your identity in the One who created you and not in what the world says of you, that you and I will have a great relationship through each stage of your life, and that your relationship with your dad will keep you grounded and confident of your worth.

Do you know you have the greatest daddy in the world?  It is impossible not to like him; he is funny, personable, and kind.  But more importantly, he loves Jesus with all his heart.  He is a man of truth, compassion, faith, integrity, honor, wisdom, courage, and generosity.  I pray that someday you will marry a man who will treasure you like your daddy treasures you and me, who will point you to God, who will shower you with love, who will make you feel beautiful even on the days when the mirror tells you otherwise, who will put you before himself and serve you willingly and joyfully, who will rejoice in you just the way God made you.  Your daddy does all those things for me, and I hope and pray your future marriage is as enjoyable, loving, and real as ours is.

Anna, I will love you all the days of your life and beyond no matter what -- regardless of who you become, what you do, what you believe, or what you think of me.  There's nothing you can do that will make me stop loving you.  You are my amazing and beautiful daughter, and you always will be.

I love you, Anna, and I always will.  No matter what.  And I will thank God for you all the days of my life.

Love, Momma

Dear Samuel (from Christmas 2011)

Dear Samuel,

Your brothers are currently snuggled in their sleeping bags downstairs under the Christmas tree, and soon your daddy and I will be joining them.  Your baby sister is snug in her crib.  If you were here, I wonder where you'd be -- under the tree or tucked in your bed?

We have 6 stockings hung on the mantel, and your daddy keeps commenting on how that seems like a lot.  4 kids.  We have no idea what having four kids to care for is like, and when we see all those stockings we notice your absence a lot.

We miss you, Samuel.  Just yesterday Caleb told the check out lady at Publix about you, and he said, "We miss him a lot, but we have a lot of great memories of him."  I was so proud of Caleb for sharing that.  All of us miss you, sweet boy.

This year we used your Christmas money to help the Stanley family put together baskets for the families of CICU kids.  They put together 20 baskets for those there over Christmas.  We also wrote 20 notes and made some pretzel/hershey kiss/m&m snacks for the baskets.

Samuel, you continue to bless me so much.  Your life refines mine.  I can see so many "refreshing springs" and "pools of blessing" that have come from our Valley of Weeping.  You have made me a better woman, wife, and Momma.  I am so, so thankful for you.

Every week now I hear about a baby fighting for his or her life.  It's practically common place, but it hurts every time.  I remember the terror we experienced and the pain we felt, and I hurt for those walking through it now.  I pray for those families and children a whole lot, and I spend a fair amount of time writing them -- on their blogs, facebook, or emails.  I feel like God called me to love and encourage others who walk this path when He gave us you.  Though it's exhausting and stirs up pain, I am glad for the chance to bless others because of you.  It makes me feel like your life still matters, and I find comfort in that.

Your baby sister has been a huge healer for us.  She brings us incredible joy.  She's full of smiles, and no one can make her laugh like her brothers.  I bet you would be a pro at it.

This Christmas we're hosting Gab'm, Matthew, Ashley, Vivian, Colin, and June at our house.  I wonder how it will be to have Junie here.  I can't believe what you'd be up to at 28 months.  Oh, baby boy, how I love you and always will.  Thank you for changing our lives, for showing us Jesus in new ways, for continuing to grow our hearts and our dependence on God -- or at least our awareness of it.

Merry Christmas, sweet boy.  I know you're enjoying the celebration in Heaven.  I love you, Samuel Erik Apinis, and I always will.

Love, Momma

Dear Samuel (from Christmas 2009)

Dear Samuel,

Tomorrow we will celebrate Christmas in our house.  Next week we head to Gab'm's for Christmas in Dallas.  This year will be a first for us -- our first Christmas as parents who have lost a son.  Honestly I don't want to celebrate Christmas without you, but how could I not celebrate Jesus, in whose very presence you now eternally celebrate?

I miss you so much, but I know you don't miss us.  You're part of the grandest celebration ever.  You are whole, full, well, and joyful.  You sing and dance and play on streets of gold, at the feet of Jesus.  You are blessed.  And you have the amazing joy of growing up in the presence of the Lord.  You lack nothing, feel no pain, experience no sorrow.  For all of this I am grateful.

Samuel, I have learned so much from you and your life.  I have learned to trust God in deeper and more real ways.  I have learned a truer humility and gentleness.  I appreciate compassion and kindness deeply.  I understand genuine joy and how different it is from happiness.  I have experienced God's grace in new and mighty ways, and I have learned to love more completely.  You have taught me these things.

The month I spent by your side was one of the most precious months of my life -- perhaps the most precious.  What a joy and privilege it was to sing to you, stroke your head, hold your hand, pray with you, read The Chronicles of Narnia to you, and tell you about your brothers and how much we all love you.  Those were days I will always treasure in my heart.  You will always be in my heart.

Today your daddy and I went back to Egleston for the first time.  It's part of our effort to honor you and remember you in a way that blesses others.  We took 20 dozen baked goods to the CICU staff to say thank you for how they cared for you and us in August.  Your favorite nurse, Richard, was there as were Dr. Kim, Dr. Jen Brown, Jennifer (you were her favorite CICU patient ever), Sherese, and Lucretia.  And we saw one of your friends, Sarah Beth.  It was hard for your daddy and I to see her and know it could have been you we were smiling down upon.  But I wouldn't want to call you back from the place of wholeness and joy where you are.  But selfishly my arms feel empty, and my heart is heavy.  How I would have loved to celebrate Christmas with you, my sweet son.

Daddy and I have decided to start several traditions to honor you at Christmas each year.  We let Caleb and Joel pick something from World Vision to use your Christmas money toward.  This year Joel chose to buy 5 ducks for a family, and Caleb chose to help orphans.  Your brothers talk about you often -- every day -- and ask about Heaven a lot.  They both miss you terribly and looks forward to seeing you again one day.  As a family we are also giving money to a missionary couple in Indai who work with slum children and to Samaritan's Purse Children's Heart Project which raises money to fly a child and 1 parent to the U.S. for life-saving heart surgery.

Samuel, we have heard so many stories of how you have changed and blessed people's lives.  You've made a tremendous impact on people.  Some people have begun a new relationship with Jesus because of you, and some have come back to Him after a time away.  Many trust God more because of you.  You have touched so many, and you have especially touched my heart.  I will never be the same after having loved and known you.  I love you Samuel Erik Apinis, and I always will.  I look forward to the day when I can see you again and scoop you up in my arms and shower you with kisses and hold you close to my heart.  Samuel, you are a gift, and I love you deeply.

Merry Christmas, sweet baby.  Give Jesus a kiss and hug from me, please, and tell Him Happy Birthday.

I love you!

Love, Momma

Another Christmas without Samuel

It's hard to believe this was our third Christmas without Samuel.  It was easier this year to face Christmas without him, partly because more time has passed and partly because Anna has been such a healing force in our lives.  We still hung his stocking up (and always plan to), and Bryan commented numerous times that 6 stockings seems like A LOT -- that four kids seems like so many.  Our fireplace did seem really full this year.

Every year we use what would have been Samuel's Christmas money to bless others, and this year we decided to join our friends the Stanleys (Caden's family) in their endeavor to bring Christmas joy to those in the CICU.  We contributed to the baskets they made, which you can read about in detail here and here.  I also wrote 20 notes, one for each basket, telling the families that we are praying for them and their child, and made some treats for the baskets as well.  I love what the Stanleys did, and I love that we can continue to be part of bringing some encouragement or thanks to a place we hold so dear to our hearts.

Each year we put some token in Samuel's stocking to represent how we spent his Christmas money.  This year we added a pacifier with a heart on it to represent the heart babies whose families received a basket.  I enjoyed looking back over the things from the past few years and even rereading the letters we wrote him in 2009.  I added a new letter this year as well.  It is easier to write Samuel now, and it feels like sending him a little love from earth to his perfect home in Heaven.  I know he is already full to the brim of love in the very presence of Jesus and in need of no more, but I like the thought of sending just a smidge more his way.

My brother's family and my mom came from Texas to spend Christmas with us at our house, and that was a true joy.  Our house was bursting with children (6 in all), laughter, and Christmas magic.  It was wonderful.  Probably the best blessing of it all was my niece June.  June, who is 16 hours younger than Samuel, offers me a picture of what my little boy might be up to in Heaven.  She is so good for my soul.  June is friendly and very sweet, and I would regularly look down to find her at my knee, reaching for me to scoop her up and cuddle her.  She would wiggle her way into my lap and lean against me, and her favorite thing to do was look at my mommy necklace.  It has a charm for each of my children as well as a birthstone for their birth months.  She would look at each charm and ask who it was for.  My favorite moment was when she held Samuel's charm and said, "This is for Samuel?"  It is so hard for me to believe that Samuel would be talking in complete sentences and be such a big boy by now.  June also blessed my heart by loving Anna.  She would get down on the floor next to Anna and play with her.  They would lay on their tummies face-to-face and talk and smile at one another.  June would reach out and touch Anna'a face and talk so sweetly to her.  It made my heart full to see and made me wonder how Samuel would have felt about his baby sister.  And no surprise, Joel doted on June, kissing her often and being the amazing boy he is.  June really is a gift to us, and I am so thankful that I have her for my niece.

The hardest part of Christmas was learning that sweet Hallie went home to Heaven on Christmas Eve.  I haven't been able to quit thinking about the Greens and hurting for them.  And each new grief stirs up my own, so my longing for Samuel was deepened as I imagined their pain and heartache.

Though I miss my Samuel terribly, I find it easier and easier to think of him and smile.  What a gift that baby boy continues to be to our family.  He continues to bless us, to change us, to make us more fully God's.  I am so grateful for him, for the time we had to love him in person, and for the time ahead when we'll be together again.  This Christmas reminded me of the future we will spend together and of the indescribable gift of baby Jesus.

Hallie-lujah

I haven't been able to quit thinking about the Greens.  Their daughter, Hallie, was born on Monday.  She is beautiful and perfect -- because she was made just as she is by our loving Creator.  She has Trisomy 13 and won't survive.  I don't know how long Hallie will have breath, but I do know that she is treasured and loved and fulfilling God's design for her life. 

Chris and Katie chose the name Hallie because it means Praise God -- Hallelujah.  And I can't quit thinking about how that's exactly what she's doing.  Her life is an ongoing chorus of Hallelujah.  She is eliciting praise from thousands of people.  Some friends of the Greens started a facebook page called Hope for Hallie, and as I type this there are 3,052 members.  Who knows how many more there will be by the time I publish this post.  I think all 3,052 members have been challenged to praise God -- to see Him at work in circumstances we wouldn't have chosen, to see as beautiful what the world is tempted to dismiss, to thank God for the blessing He's granted us -- both those we asked for and those we didn't and are inclined to label "heartaches" or "despair" or "brokenness" or "unfairness."  To see God for the loving, kind, full of grace God that He is, this is Hallie's blessing to all of us.

At church this morning we sang "Hallelujah" over and over, and I had silent tears streaming down my cheeks the entire time.  Hallie has brought out a new depth of praise in that word.  I praise Him for the fearful and wonderful way He's made her, for letting all of us love her through her parent's courage to share her (Chris posted an incredible look into their hearts yesterday; you really must read it), for giving her to Chris, Katie, Bella, and Farrah who clearly adore her and are showering her with love for however long they have her.  And I praise Him for being God -- for working in our weakness, for Creating life in ways we wouldn't have chosen, for using the most painful and heartbreaking parts of our lives for His glory and to refine our hearts and make us more fully His. 

I carry the Greens with me every minute.  They are on my heart in very real ways.  I know some of the emotions that are ahead, and I am so thankful for the chance to pray for them as they treasure these days with their sweet, perfect Hallie Lynn Green and as they prepare to hand her over to her Creator whenever He calls for her.

The Hope for Hallie facebook page has asked people to post pictures of them holding up signs of love and encouragement for Hallie and the Greens.  Here are ours.

Caleb did this all on his own.  I love his sweet heart.  (Incidentally, there is nothing on the back despite evidence to the contrary.  :) )

Be Rich

Bryan has worked so incredibly hard this season on our church's giving campaign, Be Rich.  The name comes from I Timothy 6:18, "Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share."  He transitioned into a new role at church this fall, and it's been an unbelievable amount of work.  He now heads up Intersect, which is basically our church's community service arm.  Here is the video that tells about what God has done through the generosity of our church. It's pretty downright amazing.


Be Rich 2011 Celebration from North Point Media on Vimeo.

Join Me in Praying for the Green Family

Tomorrow some friends we know through church, Chris and Katie Green, are being induced with their third daughter, Hallie.  She has trisomy 13, and her family has spent the last months trying to be prepared for countless possible scenarios.  Please join me in praying for them as they welcome their daughter into the world and face the unknown.  Pray that they get beautiful time with Hallie, that their hearts are filled with peace and even joy, that they know how to lead their older daughters through this, that their doctors and nurses and every single person who comes into contact with them treats them and Hallie with tenderness, kindness, compassion, and dignity.  Pray that God continues to deepen and strengthen their marriage and that sharing Hallie will be another cord that binds their hearts together.  And pray that Hallie's life would be an ongoing chorus of Hallelujah to our God.  Thank you, friends.

Blog Avoidance

I've kind of been avoiding the blog lately.  I guess it's sort of two-fold.  For starters, there have been some pretty heavy-hearted happenings in my world in recent weeks, but some of them are not mine to share.  And I haven't known how to write honestly without mentioning them.  So I simply haven't written.  But they've taken a toll, and I've felt their weight.  In a way they all center around loss, though in varying forms -- people dear to us (what a gross understatement) moving away, another heart family losing their baby boy, and a friend walking a really hard road.

We learned in grief counseling that new griefs penetrate the surface and bring up old griefs, and that has certainly been true the last few weeks.  On the night we learned of our loved ones moving away, I felt the return of that horrible, gut-wrenching, earth-shattering ache that I carried around for months after Samuel died -- the one where it was hard to breathe, to speak, to function.  Bryan and I were both overwhelmed with sorrow at the news of the move, and I couldn't bring myself to say a single word for the rest of the night.  I felt crushed under grief once again.  And I realized how much I haven't missed that almost unbearable weight.  It also made me realize just how much God has healed us over the last two+ years.  It used to be that the weight was a constant companion, but it had been a long time since I'd felt it again.  That night I kept thinking over and over again, "I can't do this," but in the morning I woke with an assurance that God is with us, and He will be enough yet again.

I found myself heavy-hearted once again as I followed a heart family's journey.  I hurt deeply for them in the loss of their son, Thomas, and I flash back to our time at Egleston, our fresh grief, our struggle to face each new day.  I ache for anyone who has to walk this road of sorrow.  And yet, I have such hope for the mighty work God will do in them because of their son.  I treasure what God has done in me, and I stand in expectation at how He will reveal Himself in and to them.

I guess the second reason for my blog avoidance is that the three weighty circumstances going on around me have made me rather blue and have resulted in some pretty blue thoughts, and I hesitate to paint my blueness on others.  I wouldn't say my days have been dominated by sorrow or heaviness; in fact I've had lots and lots of joy and laughter and fun, but my blog-related thoughts have been darker, and I've shied away from sharing them.  For some reason I keep having an image of our time in the hospital flash through my head, and it makes my stomach sink every time.  I keep picturing one day when I was at Samuel's bedside alone.  (I think Bryan was praying in the hospital's chapel.)  I was overcome with sorrow that day, and I laid my head down next to Samuel's and wept.  When I think of that day, I imagine it as it looked to our nurse or a doctor walking by or even someone in the entrance hall as our dock was pretty much the first thing you saw when you looked into the CICU.  My agony must have been evident to anyone who so much as glanced over, and when I picture it, my heart is filled with pain.  I can't explain why that image came to mind (it happened during a worship song at church, and I'm sure the lyrics triggered it, but I can't even remember what song it was) or why it has stuck around, but it kind of sums up how I've been feeling lately when I think about writing on here -- just feels uncharacteristically heavy for over two years after Samuel's death.

Apart from those things, life has been joyful lately.  Bryan's sister came to visit last week, and that was wonderful.  Anna Pea took to her, which was precious.  The boys continue to adore Anna.  Today Caleb said he wishes he could have a whole day with nothing to do but stare at Anna.  He called her "the cutest thing that ever lived."  And Joel is always thinking about Anna.  When asked what he was thankful for on Thanksgiving, he answered, "my baby sister" without hesitation.  A couple of days ago when the boys were playing by Anna, Caleb suggested they head upstairs, and Joel immediately protested, "No!  We can't leave Anna!  She would be lonely."  Joel proposes to Anna regularly with variations on, "Anna Pea, will you marry me?"  The way these brothers love their baby sister is amazing.

Ok, maybe now that I have this post out the way, I will be a bit more diligent about posting.  Here are some photos of the last month in my blogging absence.  All but the first two were taken by Marta (Bryan's sister) or at least with her snazzy camera.

At Caleb's school Thanksgiving Feast with all his hard work.  That's our family totem pole Caleb is holding up.  Each of us is an animal.  Caleb wanted to include Samuel.  From top to bottom, it's Samuel the bunny, Caleb the eagle, Anna the bear, Joel the turkey, Daddy the wolf, and Momma the cat.

Anna and Daddy enjoying the Thanksgiving Feast

I love her.

One of my favorites.  I am so, so crazy about this baby girl.

Our Beauty.  Or as I often call her "Button."

Two cuties

Joel's laughter is one of my favorite sounds in the world.  What a fabulous kid.

Anna and her Auntie Marta

Anna kisses

Auntie Marta with her nephews.  Caleb was reading Encyclopedia Brown out loud to M&J.

Love that face.  Such a Joel expression.

And this face.  Love it too!

Playing make-believe.  With protective goggles, a bike helmet, and a lacrosse stick, naturally.

My three sweeties.  Can't imagine life without them and can hardly remember life before them.