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Monday, November 29, 2010

To See

The dock sways gently with the waves.  The sun sparkles on the water as the chilly wind whisks away my tears.  I read Ephesians 1:8.  "I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints..."   I picture Makiah singing and doing the arm motions to one of her favorite songs, "Open the Eyes of My Heart."  I think of the book Mary Beth Chapman signed and the note she wrote encouraging us to "choose to see."

Although the sun is shining brightly here at my in-laws lake house, I feel more then ever that I see through a glass dimly.  I think more about Ephesians 1:18, and I feel prompted to write down all of the dreams or pictures of heaven and Makiah and our family that others have shared with me since October 8th.  Maybe recording these experiences will help me to "know the hope to which he has called" me.

I write and write.  One story from a precious friend comes to mind.  Her family has been praying for us daily. She told me her 3 year old came running to her one day after his nap, and said he had a dream that they were building a fire next to Mrs. Rachel.  He said it was not too big or too small and that they were bringing sticks to put in the fire to keep me warm.  What a beautiful picture of intercession.   Out of the mouths of babes.

Another little friend of Makiah's also had a dream.  He said that in the dream they played and it was really fun.  He said she told him that God really does know all the hairs on your head.  He told his mommy it was cool...

She can see clearly now.

My tears stream down faster than the wind can snatch them away so it picks up speed.  The red and yellow leaves have almost disappeared from the waving trees.  The bright sun is climbing high now, and I can feel its warmth on my wet face.  My natural eyes see beauty all around.  Lord, please enlighten the eyes of my heart- that they can see more than this deep, crushing darkness.  Thank you for those who are putting sticks in the fire to help drive away the the dark and the cold.  I really do want to see...

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Priceless Treasure

All I have ever wanted is to be a mommy.  As soon as I can hold a baby doll, I am imagining the day when it will be real.  I gather all my dolls together and pretend to have an orphanage where all the babies with no family are mine.  I can't imagine anything worse then having no mommy or daddy.  Long after the other girls have left their toys behind to chase boys, I still secretly pretend with my babies.  As a teen, I have a very real dream of playing on the beach with my little blond-haired daughter, and I can't wait.

College?  Yes,  It is necessary to become the kind of person my ideal Mr. Right would marry.  Graduate school?  Yes.  He still hasn't made his debut.  Work for several years after the wedding?  Yes.  I want to pay off the student loans and save for our next car so that when the big day comes, I can stay home as much as possible and be a mommy.  Infertility?  Yes.  I try not to let fear creep in.  I carry around a notebook of scripture promises to combat the insidious thoughts.  We go to a bible study and a pastor I have never met (and who knows nothing about me), says God has heard our prayers, and I will be a mommy.  Six weeks later I am pregnant.

May 11, 2006.  One of the happiest days of my life.  I become not just a mommy, but Makiah's mommy.   My blond haired baby has arrived!  Two weeks before the accident, you crawl up in my lap and ask me if you will always be my baby first.  I laugh and cradle you like a baby and tell you "Oh, yes! Even when you are as big as Mommy!"   I snuggle you close and cover your face with kisses.  You grin your squinty eyed grin- the one where I can see the happiness in your heart beaming from your eyes.

Your conception was a miracle.  Every breath you took was a gift.  The precious moments of your sweet life were entrusted to me.  A priceless treasure that I will always cherish.  Sweet Makiah, you will always be mommy's first baby.

Sunday, November 21, 2010


Pain.  Hyperventilating.  Flashbacks.  Laughter.  Love.  Crunching.  Spinning.  Glass.  Screaming.  911.  Disbelief.  Blood.  Begging.  CPR.  Paddles.  Strangers.  Arms.  Praying.  Hoping.  Sirens.  Riding.  Shaking.  Pleading.  Waiting.  Doctor.  Over.  No!  Horror.  Crushing.  Blackness.  Nightmare.  Breathe.  Replay.  Stop.  Please.  Stop.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The Storm

I had forgotten until Cameron reminded me. The conversation was buried in my mind beneath the rubble of the wreck.   At 5:15 on October 8th we were riding in the car.  Makiah was playing happily in the back with a new toy- our first purchase for the twins. "Watch Mommy!" she exclaimed.  She was so excited to make it play music.  I told her what a good big sister she would be and that she would have to teach the twins to play.  Then while she was occupied, I shared with Cameron something I had heard a week before about Mathew 7: 24-27. 

"Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock.  The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall because it had its foundation on the rock.  But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on the sand.  The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash." -Jesus

I have heard this parable many times before, but this time was different.  I expressed to Cameron that it occurred to me that both the wise man and the foolish man faced the storm. I usually think that those who love God will be kept from the storm altogether, but the wise man did not avoid the catastrophe.  The rain came down, and the wind blew and beat against his house, too.  The difference between the two men was not what they endured, but the outcome.  The man whose foundation was Jesus, the rock, did not collapse.  The other man's house came down with a great crash.

Our serious moment ended as Makiah started to play the "I love you more than..." game with us.  We exchanged "I love you's" and laughs as we drove.  We were almost home now.  But then suddenly, with a terrible crunch of metal and breaking glass, the world spun violently around us and the greatest storm of our lives descended and began to beat with fury against our house.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Fresh Eyes

Today I heard someone speak about grace- God's unmerited favor.  The speaker showed this video (posted below) of a father who helps his severely handicapped son complete a marathon.  I have seen this video  before and cried about the compassion of a father for his child.  I have wondered if I could do the same.  Could I suffer and love and be so dedicated to another person's dreams?  But today I saw this clip with fresh eyes.

Today I realized that I am the boy- completely, utterly incapable of doing anything for myself.  I have often prayed that I would trust and depend on God, but really there has always been a measure of relying on myself and what He has given me.  I have never felt utterly incapable... until now.  This complete brokenness of who I am, of my dreams, of my heart has brought to light a truth that has always been there.  I am nothing without Him.  There is a comfort in knowing that the Father always planned to carry me across the finish line.  I was meant to lay helplessly in the boat while He pulls me across the pounding waves.  There is no other way across miles of difficult hills and blazing sun except strapped to Him.  I will finish the race- in His strong arms, with His feet pounding against the hard ground, and His sweat and blood carrying me to victory.

Maybe you, too, will see this video with fresh eyes.

My Redeemer Lives - Team Hoyt

Tuesday, November 9, 2010


Purple. Orange. Pink.  The sky is streaked with beauty on this cool, crisp morning.  My cheeks are streaked with tears.  My insides are a pressure cooker.  The pain builds and churns and presses until it leaks from my eyes.  I feel as if this thing inside me will explode.  I cannot bear it.  Wails begin to escape from my lips, and I can no longer act civilized.  I cannot contain the thoughts pounding through my mind.  They pour in a rushing a torrent from my lips.  I do not care that people can hear.

"I miss my baby!  I've never been apart from her for 4 long weeks before.  How can I live without her?  I do not want to learn.  I do not want to put time between the intersection of her life and mine.  I do not want to be ok.  I do not want to forget.  I do not want to do this!!  How can this be my life?  How can it have gone so wrong?  It was not supposed to be this way.   I can hear her sweet voice in the bathtub asking, "What color will you paint me today, Mommy?"  I will never get to "paint" her with soap again... to imagine with her.  I cannot do 'This Little Piggy Went to Market' while I clean her little toes ever again."

I pound the bed and pull my hair.  Agony.  Breathing fast now.  The wails will not stop.  I sit up to calm down, but my arms hang limp and empty.  No one for them to hold.  Another wave hits, and in my heart I feel like the living dead.  I am sorry for my babies.  They can hear now.  Instead of songs and laughter I am afraid the only sound they will know is sobbing.  Worse.  They will not know their sister.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

The Dance

Why is my baby in a box and I am on my bed?  Why do I still breathe in and out and she cannot?  It's a miracle Cameron is alive.  He remembers the car's hood plowing into the side of his head.  It's a miracle I have only bruises and scratches and that there is still life in my womb.  Why not one more miracle?  Where is your miracle Makiah?  Oh, that you were little and safe and still inside me!

Paul said to live is Christ but to die is gain.  This seems so clear to me now.  If we had all gone together, how sweet would be our welcome in heaven- not separated by time or pain or waiting.  Perhaps it would have been harder for others but so much easier for me.  Then I think of the twins and all the years of prayers that you have prayed for them.  And then I think of the dance.

In September when I started bleeding and the doctor's discovered a hematoma, Daddy took you to the church to pray.  He said he was going to pray until he knew the babies would be ok.  He told you that he knew you didn't know what words to pray, but if you danced for Jesus, that would be your prayers for us.  You danced and danced and danced... for an hour and a half you danced for mommy and the babies.

God heard the prayers of your heart and feet that day, my sweet one.  Mommy and the babies will live.  Thank you, precious Makiah, for the dance.

Phillipians 1:21-26

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Wells of Living Water

My eyes filled with tears when my mother-n-law told me of her friend's idea.  This sweet lady, whom I've never met, wanted to know if she could do something special in honor of Makiah.  She said God had put it on her heart to start a well project for her.  She would sell "living water well charms" through Operation Blessing International to raise money to build a well for underprivelaged children in a poverty stricken country.  She said when 600 charms have been purchased, a well with a permanent plaque would be built to commemorate Makiah's life.  Not only was this an amazing idea, it was linked to my daughter's heart in a way that shocked me...

What this thoughtful lady could not have known was that only 2 weeks before the accident, Makiah came into the kitchen on a Sunday morning carrying her whole piggy bank.  She told me she wanted to take it all to "give to the kids who need clean water."  The preschool class at church had been raising money to help build wells in a community in Africa.  We had talked several weeks before about how the little girls there couldn't even go to school because they had to spend all day walking to get clean water for their families.  I had forgotten about this, but Makiah didn't.  She wanted to give all she had to help these children know God's love and have a better life.  

Will you help Makiah's dream to make a real difference in another little girl's life come true?

Only $1800 builds a well.  Donations to the Well Project can be made by mailing a check to:

Operation Blessing International
Attn: Christine Coughlin, CSB 322
977 Centerville Turnpike
Virginia Beach, VA 23463

*Mark your gift clearly on the check for Makiah King and it will be credited to her account.