One Year

One year ago this fall is the anniversary of some of the hardest months in my life. I lost two babies back to back through miscarriage. You know what? It still hurts. My arms feel still empty. I still ask why. I still ask why I don't get to know why. I wonder a lot of things... I find my self wondering what in the world God is up to! Why do you allow some people to have their babies and others You take them away? I have friends who are huge advocates for the unborn, one of their callings in life is to speak for those innocent ones who have no voice. Two weeks ago they lost their 21 week prenatal son. Why? My heart aches for my friends that are unable to conceive at all. They are beautiful people that love Jesus. Why would they need to endure that pain? What are we supposed to be learning? Isn't there an easier way to learn it? It makes no sense to my humanity.

Obviously I know truths in my head, but sometimes there's a short circuit to my heart. I know in my head that the loss of my babies is not a punishment from God, but my heart is screaming "What did I do wrong?", "What did I do to deserve this?" And yes, honestly, sometimes I think things like "Why are they so much more deserving than I?"

Life continues on though. One foot in front of the other. The days of one breath to the next get further apart. I love these lyrics by Laura Story:

What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy 
 We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home

Obviously it is so hard for me to not know the whys, it would be so much easier if I was able to get an "OH! That's why this had to happen!" moment. However, for me, I think this might be one of those God sized holes that can not have a satisfactory answer this side of heaven.

Maybe the reason for the pain
Is so we would pray for strength
And maybe the reason for the strength
Is so that we would not lose hope
And maybe the reason for all hope
Is so that we could face the world
And the reason for the world
Is to make us long for home
-Matthew West

And The Tree Was Happy

I have been very sentimental lately, I know, I know...

This evening Mia was reading "The Giving Tree" to Trux, and I really felt this part:

But the boy stayed away for a long time... and the tree was sad. And then one day the boy came back and the tree shook with joy and she said, "Come, Boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and be happy."

Most of you know by now that I grew up wild and free on acres of land Kansas. Some of you know and probably remember how my brothers, Nathan and Noah, and I lived in trees. Literally. There are three trees that are really a part of me and who I am.

Where I grew up there is an over abundance of Osage Orange trees.

Around my house they were planted in rows, similar to the above picture, and used to tack fences to, "fence posts". Our climbing tree was a fence post in the front yard along the front property line and across on the other side of the fence was another "hedge apple tree". The branches of these trees intertwined probably a good 25 feet above the ground, with limbs thick enough that we could go back and forth from tree to tree. Oh the secrets that tree holds. I vividly remember soon after Nathan's 2nd brain cancer surgery, his head was sutured together from ear to ear, he wanted very badly to be up in the tree. My brother Noah and I boosted him on up and we sat there for awhile, high above the world... however seeing as Nathan had just recently had brain surgery he was weak and his balance was very off and he couldn't get back down. I think this is one of the few times my mom truly freaked out on us. Looking back I totally understand.

When I was hurt or upset, I often fled to the outstretched branches of that tree. When it was stifling hot and the parents insisted on not using the air conditioning till July, we'd retreat to the shady branches of that tree, the higher you go the better the breeze you know.

The second tree I have a relationship with is the huge hedge apple in the back. From it hung our tree swing. Of course there were many, many childhood hours spent on it... or pushing it... depending on where you were in the pecking order of swingers. I actually looked at this tree while I was home over this past weekend, really looked at it with my grownup eyes. It has grown taller and thicker, as trees are apt to do. I went and laid my hands on it's rough, orangy bark... I'd like to think that the tree happy. I know I was. 

And for those of you that have no earthly idea why a tree would be called a hedge apple tree and what a hedge apple is...

And no, you don't eat them, they taste like earwax.

Standing On the Promises

This morning as I was driving to drop the girls, well, Sierra, off at school there was the most vibrant rainbow arching across the sky. We followed it and it lasted the entire 25 minute drive to school and at one point it even became double arches.

(You can see the faint double bow over the brighter one. Silly cell camera didn't do it justice.)

Rainbows always remind me of God's promises, stemming from the story of Noah in the Bible, and my dad reading it to us. So as I was driving and talking about these amazing rainbows and marveling with my children it really got me thinking... What do I believe about God's promises? What do I know with all of my heart that He promises me?

I will admit that I am often times grouchy about irritating things that happen in daily life, inconvenient things. I get sad or angry about things and try to accuse God of not loving me like He should... not keeping His end of the deal... yeah... some of my not so fine moments...

So as I looked at these rainbows I was reminded anew that God never promised me an easy ride... He never promised perfect health, He never promised that my children would always behave like angels. He never did. What He did promise me that he would always walk with me, He would never leave me. He will never ever make me go through something that He won't give me the strength and ability to handle. And you know what? That goes for the small things, like staying up with Ms. Asthma all night long, or the bigger things like losing something precious and dear to your heart. I guess it just struck me that with the attitude of entitlement that I have sometimes... okay, a lot of the time, I lose sight of, or overlook the things I am promised.

Thank you Jesus for your promises, I am grateful to you. Thank you for never leaving my side even when I lose sight of You and Your promises.