An Unexpected Journey

One year and one day ago I sat in darkness.  A profoundly deep, heavy darkness.  But at 12:45 on February 22nd of 2011, a sharp little cry pierced the darkness like an arrow of light.  One minute later a second arrow blazed just behind as "Baby B" entered this world.  After months of bed-rest and five weeks in the hospital, my miracles arrived!  Four weeks early but so perfect they seemed right on time. Survivors.  Not only did they survive the normal dangers of a multiple pregnancy, but they survived the accident.  And the months of mommy's wailing and post traumatic stress disorder.  And the empty house... except for the belly that was so full. I started journals for my girls when they were 3 months old just like I did for Makiah.  I am so glad now to have those treasured memories recorded!  Last May I wrote to them, "We lost your big sister, Makiah, in a car accident when Mommy was pregnant with you.  I thought I would never ...

Worship chords swirl about.  Heart eyes turn to Him.  Not too often have I felt this lately.  I grab my pen as impressions grab me. this is war a spiritual war sense of the battle  determination not to lose any of my family Makiah cheering us on Makiah dancing for Jesus sense of connectedness with her and eternity His plan is all glorious to reunite us forever families are meant to be together this separation is temporary  we will be together forever sense of this breaking my thorn in the flesh my weakness that won't go away  the thing that keeps me dependent and desperate the thing He can show himself strong in my weakness my loss

Miracles.  Sometimes they surprise us all at once in a supernatural sort of way.  Other times they start like a tiny drip, drip, dripping until the bucket fills and overflows and a miracle is born.  Makiah’s gift began with the clinking of little pennies in her piggy bank.  Then with tiny footsteps as tiny fingers brought it to her preschool class offering at church.  A little heart had purposed to give it all away… to send it to the boys and girls that had no clean water.  That’s what she told her mama that day.  A short two weeks before she was taken away.  Her last gift. So tiny it would seem.  Those first few drops in the bucket.  But then other hearts began to shift and sway.  Soon the dripping turns to flowing.  Water flowing.  Life flowing.  Pennies in the hand  become water on the fingers and past the lips of grateful ones.  Two more wells are completed for the thirsty ones.    ...

Do you believe dreams can be meaningful?  Did you know that God first cut a covenant with Abraham after he "fell into a deep sleep?"  Or that he repeated the promised covenant to Jacob in a.... yup, you guessed it- a dream!  Most of us in this left brain culture would have said, "Wow!  I ate bad pizza!" and forgotten all about it!  Interesting to me that God would choose to have such tremendously earth shifting encounters with people in, of all places, a dream.  Of course there are many other dream stories in the bible, but you can search those out for yourself if you like. I woke up this morning puzzling over a strikingly vivid but seemingly bizarre dream.  I shared it with my husband at breakfast and light seemed to wrap around his words and tears filled my eyes instantly and unexpectedly at his wise response.  Parts I will keep for myself, but the end I feel I should share.  Somewhere between early morning feedings I found myself deep in...

I follow a crawling baby into Makiah's room where she eagerly starts to plunder through  books. I gingerly open a book that had been one of her last Christmas presents.  The Little Red Book with Big Red Letters! A Story of Discovering Your Dream.   The inscription on the first crisp white page reads: " To Makiah... God has special plans for you! "  A gift from her grandparents.  Before I can stop myself the thought shoots through my mind.  What kind of plans?  Plans for a gruesome death a mere ten months after these sweet words were penned?  I shudder at my own antagonism and shove such questions aside.  I tell myself to keep playing chase and stay in the moment. Later, I am deleting old Facebook messages and see one dated January 16th, 2010.  Two years ago today and a short ten months before my baby died.  I am curious to see what I wrote back then.  I click on the message, and well, read it for yourself...    ...

Almost exactly two years ago today…   Makiah and I stand pressed tightly in a line of people waiting to get off the airplane.   I glance nervously at my watch.   We have been sitting on the runway much too long.   Our next flight leaves in 30 minutes… on the other side of the Atlanta airport.   As I wait, I am picturing myself hauling a protesting three year old and luggage through the crowds in a panic.   I think we need a plan so I say, “Sweetie, we are going to play a game.   We are going to pretend that we are in a race.   We are a team, and we have to help each other run.   But the most important thing is we can’t let go.   No matter what we have to hold onto each others hands.”   The scene flashes through my mind and I wince.    I didn’t want to lose her. Then in my mind’s eye I see us running breathlessly to the next flight.    I had envisioned dragging a screaming child through the airport, but in...

We can't totally "do Christmas" yet.  We escape to a beach in South Carolina.  A place I have never been.  To make new memories.  Try to avoid some of the old.  I pull aside heavy curtains the first morning to peek at crashing swells pummeling against white sand.  I catch my breath.  I have not seen it since she died.  I spent the last week of her life watching her chase seagulls and splashing in the blue.  Toes in the warm sand and ears held up to shiny shells.  Fortunately, little cries pull me away, and I really have no time alone to contemplate. Christmas Eve.  We give the girls presents and help them tear paper.  Capture their cuteness with a lens.  Try to freeze the memories in time.  Burn them deep into my mind.    'Oooh mouths' and tiny reaching fingers meet warm cinnamon rolls.  Slobbery kisses and snuggles in bed.  Brush aside the moments of nausea and missing.  H...