A BIG, BIG Thank-you to these people for Gifting us with A Family Photo Shoot! (Tabatha Kahn, Angela Krebs, Karen McQuade, Lisa Klix, Michelle Potts, Rachel Friesen, Chelsey Roberts) Two years ago, a friend of a friend met us at the Rotary Flames House and did a photo shoot with our daughter Rachel. It was a day or two after Rachel went through the very first of many heart 'spells', obviously a distressing experience for all of us. The pictures she took that day are still so precious. And this Fall, we were blessed by these family pictures! The lamb stuffy in the picture was Rachel's and for us represents the truth that she is still very much a part of our family and our hearts. Thank-you Rachel Friesen for the wonderful idea of including something of hers...
A few days ago, I was looking for ideas on how to end off the second book of the Blog and have it printed. And I came across the Funeral bulletin. Now the last two pages of Rachel's story holds this family picture and the following poem. I thought it was fitting...and I like it so much that I'm going to put it here too!
Nothing can make up for the absence of someone we love-
And it would be wrong to find a substitute-
We must simply hold out and see it through-
That sounds very hard at first but at the same time it is a great consolation-
For the gap-
As long as it remains unfilled-
Preserves the bond between us-
It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap-
God does not fill it-
But on the contrary keeps it empty-
And so helps us to keep alive our former communion with each other
I know I said that my last post was going to be the last....but something happened last night that I want so much to remember....
I had a dream. At first it was just a bunch of crazy stuff that I won't bore you with, but then there was this part of the dream when it was me and a friend, a widow in our church, standing in a tent. We were each holding two balloons and I knew they symbolized our husbands who had both died. We were told to take them outside the tent. And we tried so hard. I remember how we would think we were at the edge of the tent and we would let the balloons go, only to have to retrieve them and keep walking....and the tent was so crowded that it was hard to see where we were going.
But then, suddenly we were outside. It is impossible to describe what I saw. Rolling hills waving in a myriad of colors of browns, reds, yellows. Beauty indescribable. The bluest sky ever. I had forgotten my friend beside me. All I knew was that God was there. And that was enough. It was like every part of need in me was completely and totally filled.
It was so achingly beautiful. And I think it was a gift from Him, my ABBA Father. October has felt like a sad month. It took me awhile to figure out why it has felt this way. Maybe because subconsiously my body remembers that Rachel had her first spells in October. A friend photographed her only a day or two after her first one. And the same friend did our family pictures this October. (a wonderful generous gift from a group of people) I love that they gifted this to us. It was a meaningful and a healthy thing for us to do. We included a lamb stuffy as a reminder that Rachel is still a part of us. I don't regret doing them at all - but I think it was one of many triggers for me this month. I miss my daughter. I wish sometimes that she could be with us. I wish I could hold her and say good-bye. I regret that I didn't have the chance to do that.
And so I have prayed this past week that God would give me a dream of her. I felt desperate for her in a way I haven't in a long time. I believe in faith that she is really well and whole but I couldn't help asking to see her. And while He didn't give me the dream I asked for, I know that He gave me Himself. He is enough. His Grace is enough for me. And one day this ache is going to be filled up for good! I am so, so glad He gave me a little taste of what that will be like!
I think I have always had the thought in my mind - that once we reached the one year mark after Rachel's going to heaven day, I would write one final post. And so, it has been on my mind this past month and a half to do so. But something else always came up or I didn't feel inspired, and perhaps it felt like I was making, yet again, one step further away from my little girl. I think I was waiting for the perfect time and it never really came. So today I decided to sit down and just write - never mind if it doesn't come out perfectly. And be ready for tears if they come. So here goes....
First, how are we doing one year (and a bit) after?
This is a hard question to answer. I think I am relieved to say that our life still feels full - full of God's goodness, our home still rings with laughter, and I have not sunk into a darkness that I feared more than the pain of loss. I think I always wondered if, when all the projects that I threw myself into to distract myself were done, that then, the grieving would really begin. And it never did. Grieving continues but not in the way I feared. That I believe is God's grace to me.
There are times, like yesterday, when I picked up the kids scrapbooks again, and the pain of hearing the diagnosis and watching Rachel die is real again....but on most days it usually feels like a nagging sense that something isn't right. Someone is missing from our home, from our family. We are not complete. And those of you whose children have died, know just what I mean. My kids are both in school now, and there is one question that I hear over and over. "How many children do you have?" And I still struggle every time to answer . It feels so un-natural to say "2". I have three. I am a mother of three. And it feels like I am denying her existence by my answer. And maybe it feels tough too because I always thought we would have more than two and I feel selfishly disappointed about that. But I can't blurt out the truth every time...the retelling of our story is hard too. And so I force a smile and say something like "I have 2 in this school."
So much has changed since the day we held our girl for the last time....I thought I'd try making a list...starting with the material, visible stuff...
1. Our House looks so different. Rachel's nap room (and the place where she died) is now Ethan's room. It's painted blue, the color I could imagine goes well with big white fluffy clouds. The rug is now laminate flooring. Rachel's room downstairs was first used as a room for a renter, and now an office where I am typing. It is hard for me to even picture her in this room - lying in her basinet that is now long gone.
2. I am getting better at parties, particularly where there are strangers who know nothing about Rachel. This was so hard for me for the longest time. I have always been an introvert, but not shy. Going to a party was not a stressful thing before. But since we heard Rachel's diagnosis, it was like I 'needed' people to know about her, because she was such a HUGE part of my life. How could we talk about insignificant things like the weather, when my life was full of questions about the goodness of God, about disability and the value of a life, and especially when I knew that each time I left Rachel with Dave or someone else - that might have been the last time I saw her? My heart and my mind were *so* full, and the emotions were always just beneath the surface - it was hard to care about things that weren't about her. I didn't want to spoil the party, so I often opted out or found excuses not to go. It's hard to be with happy people when you feel so sad. I am *SO* thankful for friends who understood this and gave me so very much grace again and again. I am relieved too - it feels like a sign of health to be able to just 'hang out' and talk about normal life stuff - it feels like a weight has slowing been lifting from my heart...
3. I have become genuinely excited for friends and family who are expecting. This surprised me and was a relief too. For a long time, I tried to be happy for them but truthfully it hurt so much too. I kept telling myself that I should be thankful to have given birth to two healthy children....But other healthy babies still were a reminder of the kind of birth I had wanted with Rachel and didn't get. I still hear good news with the nagging sense of how things are not fair, especially for other friends who have tried years to concieve, and for those of us with sick children too - but I cannot also help thinking now of the beauty of each life. Rachel too was a gift, she was our gift. And as much as it hurts, I want that truth to keep sinking in....
4. What I write now might be one of the biggest changes....and this development is one that I have not shared publicly until now because we wanted to hold it close for awhile - and seek God's guidance on this. It is felt like a very long journey with alot of ups and downs. And there is still *so* much I will not write about here. But I will just say that we have begun to pursue the possibility of adoption with Child and Family Services. We are scheduled for training in October. We started out pursuing private adoption but the long list of waiting parents (many of whom can not bear children) and the cost was a discouragement. We also considered concieving again and for multiple reasons, found that door closing too.
We don't know what God will do, where this will all go, but one thing I have been learning this last year is to trust God because He will show us the way. At the start of this year, my mind and heart were so conflicted and confused - trying to figure out what we should do or not do about my heart's desire for more children. Along the way - we have sensed God shutting doors, not all at once - sometimes they seemed to open and close multiple times, but I am becoming more confident that we can trust Him in each step. And even if it does not result the way that I think it should right now, we will be ok with that too. But it does feel a bit like we are stepping forward into something new - definetly something that holds challenges, probably alot more than we are ready for, but we see many reasons to keep going forward.
And so if you do respond to this, you do not need to tell us about all the challenges about adoption. If you have thought of it, I am very sure we have thought of it already. But please DO PRAY for us. For Guidance. For Patience - for example, there are things happening (Ha! like things moving too slowly for my liking!) that might really be God's hand, His timing. For Peace that is bigger than the new Genetic findings. (Genticists might have found the abnormal gene) Dave and I have now sent blood to the states to be tested. With that information comes the possibility of our kids being carriers. I don't want this info to hinder me from living now in Today.....
I think that's all I'm going to write today....and it might be the last time. wow. What a journey it has been. Thank-you SO MUCH for walking it with us...I don't even know the words to thank you adequately for what you did for us....
I think I'll end with my favorite Hymn of the month:) I keep wanting to listen to it over and over. It expresses so much of what I believe as I look back over our journey with Rachel and as we look to the future...We will experience change, many changes of all kinds but He never changes. That is so comforting to this heart of mine."Jesus, Jesus how I trust you. How I proved you o'er and o'er. Jesus, Jesus precious Jesus. Oh for Grace to trust Him more!"
Dave's sister Val and her husband Ravi (and son Isaiah) came to visit us on the one year anniversary of Rachel's death. They just hopped in a car and drove the 14 hours to come see us for one day! Val and Dave's mom got us these flowers. I thought the girlie lamb was just perfect!
Sunday, August 5, 2012
This afternoon we remembered how Rachel took her last breath here and went into the arms of Jesus. Dear Rachel, you were so small and yet so full of life! We miss you! You brought so much beauty to our lives!!
I stole the following picture from a Blog that a friend introduced me to awhile ago. The writer also has a son who is with Jesus and I have really appreciated her writing. I loved this plaque so much and it was the reminder I needed yesterday. To read her post click here.
Thank-you Father! You never stop Rebuilding. Redeeming. Restoring. It has been a tough day here of remembering. Lots of tears. We grieve and ache for what is lost. But even then...EVEN THEN...our grief cannot cancel out the Joy you have given us. Thank-you for never leaving us.
It was a hot and muggy Manitoba afternoon when we put Rachel's headstone on the grave. It felt a bit like our final gift to her, the last thing we could do for our little girl. And being in that graveyard in the warm sun of summer also brought back memories of last August - of singing "Jesus Loves Me" with our friends and family, of Scripture read - and of lowering her body deep in the ground. Oh I long for the day when I can be with her again....
The graveyard is just a short walk from my parent's farm - behind a church in the rural community of Mennville. Three of my grandparents were buried here. I know so many of the stories behind the headstones - told to me by my parents. And just as I walk among the stones and remember the people, the babies, the young girls, and Fathers and Mothers - I know that when their loved ones walk here, they will see Rachel's stone and know her too. She is not lost among rows and rows of headstones. She is known here. And I found that an immensely comforting thought.
I noticed too, how the grass had already begun growing on top of her grave, the soil already mostly settled. I think I felt a bit surprised at how quickly this happened. And I think of how fleeting our days are - how like the grass we are - here today and gone tomorrow. I don't always feel that way - there are days that feel much too long. Even Abigail has been asking lately - "When can we see Rachel again? When?" I can't tell her a number of sleeps. I can only hold her and dry her tears and tell her that we *will* see her again. That we can trust God's promises. But even our long days here are fleeting in light of eternity. And so we wait because He helps us.
The white letters read "In the Arms of Her Good Shepherd" The little red memorial candle we bought in Germany is still there too, some flowers that friends (whose son died) placed there for us, and a solar butterfly from my Mom.
Later one night, we all went back to see all the solar lights lit up but there were so many mosquitos - we just took a quick look and hopped back in the car.
Isn't it peaceful looking? In the back is a little rock garden made by a family of a young woman who died in her 20's. It is a place to rest and pray, cry, remember. Rachel's grave is still the last one (the small pink stone)...there hasn't been a burial since hers.
Thank-you to those of you who prayed for us! We were amazed and blessed too to know that some of you went out of your way to visit her gravesite too! And we are glad that the task of putting a stone on the grave is done! As Dave's mom said, "now it won't look as forlorn" and we agree. We feel too that the stone is a good reflection of Rachel's life and what we believe about Him. She truly is safe in Her Shepherd's arms.
"Jesus loves me He will stay, close beside me all the way. He's prepared a place for me, and someday His face i'll see . . . ."
There was one other thing that reminded me strongly of last summer. Dave's parents have a trampoline which is a HUGE hit with the kids. And next to it is a tree with two swings - one for a baby. I'm glad they didn't take it down because I could still almost imagine Rachel sitting in it - laughing as she watched the cousins jump. She was so very happy that day. As I watched them jumping this summer, it felt like there was a big hole where our other daughter should be. It hurts so much. But that swing also reminds me of her joy and that she will never know sorrow or pain again. And that is good. That is really good.
Thank-you to everyone who joined us on the 21st to honor sweet Rachel - whether you were with us at the park or with us in spirit. So many of you wore pink or yellow on that day! Thank-you for supporting us on a day that held such a mixture of feelings and memories.
In one of the Family Suites
We started the day with a visit to the Rotary Flames House. It felt strange to walk into that building again - as though it were our home from another lifetime - but it seemed so right and good to be there too. We visited with the staff for a bit. Oh, it was GOOD to hear other people remininsce about our girl - so healing for our hearts. They reminded us of things I had forgotten. How Rachel always wanted her soother upside down - and if you forgot she would promptly turn it around. They talked about her mischievious personality, and her smiles. How bravely she lived her life.
oh how thankful we are for these people who loved our little girl......
After walking through the room where we first stayed - a few days after Rachel was born....we went to the sundeck area. We brought two balloons - one pink and one yellow. We wrote messages on them for Rachel - telling her how much we missed her and loved her and how we are looking forward to being together again someday. And then Ethan and Abigail let them go. Ethan thought it was cool that they were going on a journey....and then how cool it was that his was faster than Abigail's;) I don't think I really understood the whole practice of letting balloons go until a few years ago. We were at the funeral service for our friend's son. And there was something about how those balloons drew our attention away from the ground, the pain and loss of now - to the sky. It felt very meaningful to do it on Monday as well.
I have to tell you one more thing that happened on her birthday. We planted a flowering crab apple tree last year - a gift from Dave's mom, in honor of Rachel. We had heard that sometimes they don't flower the first year after transplanting but we cared for it lovingly and watched to see what it would do. The whole week before her birthday we watched the buds growing...and the first buds began flowering right ON her birthday!!! Isn't that so beautiful?? This is what I posted on FB: Thank-you God for bringing so much beauty into our lives through Rachel and for comforting and encouraging us today!
We realize that Rachel's birthday lands on the long weekend - Victoria Day Monday, but for those of you that are around (and in Calgary), we would love for you to join us as we honor and remember our precious little girl.
I will be bringing cupcakes (Big thanks to Rebecca Purnell for helping me ice them!) and some snacks. Originally I thought we would bring snacks for everyone but it might be a large group. So....I'm changing it to a "Snack Potluck". Please bring whatever you want, just no tree nuts please. Thank-you!
We'll aim to light some candles and sing "Happy Birthday" around 3:30 pm but if you come later and still want to sing again, i'm sure we could do that too:) Please bring your own bag dinner, drinks etc...if you are staying around over supper. We will meet by the playground area, but we may need to relocate within the park if it's super busy that day....This will be a come and go event. Bring bikes for the kids, lawnchairs for yourselves etc...
Time: 3:00pm - 7:00pm *Look for us near the main entrance playground! (near the waterpark - which is not open yet...)
*And please let me know if you are coming, so we know how many cupcakes to make! Thanks:)
In honor of Rachel, we were thinking it might be neat for everyone to wear pink (if you have something that's pink!) or yellow (that's the color Ethan said reminded him of Rachel) If you don't have anything that color, don't worry about it and come anyway!
If the weather is lousy, we will have to cancel. Maybe we'll relocate to our house. We will probably still be in the middle of some house renos so we'll see.....but stay tuned. I'll update this the closer we get to the day.
I'm sorry - I realize many of you are not in Calgary and wouldn't be able to come anyway but i'm sending this invite out to everyone because I didn't want to miss anyone here. Also, I thought there might be some people who might want to remember our little girl from afar by wearing pink or yellow on that day! I would love to hear about it if you are:)
A few days ago, I was standing outside Ethan's school waiting for his class to file out. I had a nasty cold, it was a cold day and I was really looking forward to getting home. So all that to say, I guess I wasn't at my sharpest.....when another mom tried to strike up a conversation with me. We had met before - at a Abigail's preschool and have chatted a few times briefly. She told me she had gone to my house, that she had rung the doorbell - checked the back yard etc... in hopes of visiting with me. (I was a bit surprised - not sure how she knew where I lived?) I asked when this was. She said, "right after we talked about my daughter." (none of this is ringing a bell for me at all) She said that I had told her that I lost my daughter.
"I lost my daughter?" (I was so confused...I know this is weird but I could not make the connection from this to Rachel. I thought she was talking about Abigail)
What followed was a very strange conversation, where she began trying to convince me that I had indeed told her that my daughter was lost - and me denying it!
"When was this again?"
"I don't remember that."
"I didn't lose my daughter..."
Finally....FINALLY....it clued in - and I realized that she meant Rachel.
I said..."OHHH!!! You mean that my daughter died! I didn't lose her. She died."
Poor lady. She probably thought I had lost my mind.....
But that conversation got me thinking about the language we use to talk about death. So often we use expressions like "she lost her child." instead of just saying "her child died." Why is that? I can't say that I have been too concerned by it before. I have used this expression myself - many times, actually. I'm not saying that it is always wrong to use it. And I am not going to analyze this woman's reasons for using the word 'lost'. I am saying though that sometimes it can just be plain confusing (!). I obviously didn't forget that Rachel died....
I was about to floss my kids teeth tonight, when I saw my neighbor from across the street, park her car and start to go inside. I ran out of the house and called to her. I asked her if she had seen a package for me (long story) on her door for me.
She said "no". She was friendly. I had never met her. She told me she moved in about a year ago. Told me that she had to do a ton of renovations to make it liveable. She waved at the ground and said, "this sh*t cost me $1000" Can you believe it?" I wasn't sure what she meant but I felt silly asking and I didn't want to keep her. Plus my kids looked like they were about to cross the busy street to get to us...
And then as I stepped into our house, I finally realized what she had meant. She was talking about the sidewalk! And I know exactly what day that happened. August 5th, the day my daughter died. I'm sure she'd probably be a bit freaked out to know that I remember the day. And even more, to know that I watched them working that afternoon, as I paced the house with my daughter's still warm body, wondering how life could go on outside of our house as if nothing astronomical had just happened....
Strange, how a brief conversation brings it all back.....
I'm wearing Pink today! And why you may ask?? Time is short here but I want to tell you a bit about a very special little girl. I met her only briefly -shortly after she was born, at the funeral for my friend's daughter. (you might remember me talking about Abby) This family already has a special little boy in heaven named Drew. He had a mitochondrial disorder. And now their daughter Piper has been diagnosed with it too. They have been receiving support from the Flames House and they are writing about their journey. I so appreciate her honesty in what this is like for them. And I can't help feeling astounded, inspired, and deeply encouraged by their bold trust in God to be faithful. My heart aches for them. I think about them all the time. There's one picture that reminds us so much of our little girl - it brings back powerful memories of sitting at the Flames House, soaking in every smile, every response however small.... And I feel a strong connection to them even though we barely know each other. Would you join me in praying for their family?? http://clarkkiddos.blogspot.ca/
Yesterday I felt so, so sad all day. I just couldn't get motivated for anything. Today it hurts so much it's hard to breathe. I thought this was suposed to get easier.....eight months later and it hurts as much as it ever did. I guess it's good that Dave and I are leaving for Ministerial Retreat in Cypress Hills today....I need something else to focus on right now. So, off to packing I go...
I miss having those soft little toes in my hand. I miss rubbing my hand over those tufts of hair on the top of her head. I miss watching your face break out into this most beautiful contagious little grin. It feels like I should be able to scoop you right out of these pictures for a cuddle. I miss so much.....we all miss you so much dear sweet Rachel!
Our children have the most amazing grandparents. Thanks to both sets of them for sending a wonderful collection of Easter treats for them to find! We'll send you the dental bill!
This invite was in our mail a few days ago. At first I skimmed it, cried and put it down. Later, I picked it up again and noticed Rachel's name at the top and cried again. I both want to go and I don't. Part of me wants to be in a room with people who really know what it is like to have a child die and to deeply mourn their loss from our lives, to share our sorrow and honor our children together....and part of me is scared to go because it is going to be so hard too.
I'm so glad this day is about SO MUCH MORE than Easter bunnies and dressing up nice for church......aren't you??? I woke up feeling so deeply sad and it's still lingering....but I will choose to GIVE THANKS for the priceless and incredible GIFT that God gave to us in His Son JESUS! Rachel is with JESUS right now worshiping HIM even as we worship today....Thank-you JESUS.
This last week has been tough - more so than usual. I don't think I was prepared for it being quite so hard. I have found myself sitting more at the piano - lost in music, or staring mindlessly out the window or cleaning the house with ferocious intensity. (I don't think my house has ever been this clean....) Dave and I are missing Rachel so much. And as I wrote that, I looked up at the calender and remembered that yes, today it is 8 months since that afternoon when she died in our arms. How can it really be that long? I feel like there is this big hurt in me and it just isn't going to go away until I am with her again. Just when I think things are getting easier, the wave of sadness has hit hard again.
About a month ago, I jumped up from our bed in the middle of the night because I thought I heard Rachel's pained cry, the one before a heart spell. That was quite the shock because I really thought I was done with that. But since then, there have been more times when I think I hear her, and I need to hold myself back from searching through the house. I have had more dreams lately about Rachel dying in various ways too. They rattle me. The good thing though is that these dreams are turning me towards God who is powerful to save, and to the Psalms that express my heartache.
I think what is on our minds most these days, as we approach Easter, is that our daughter's body is in the ground. Buried under a mound of dirt. In a box. My heart still doesn't know what to do with that. We dressed her body for the last time in her Easter dress - meaningful to us because of the promise of resurrection. But right now resurrection seems so far away from the reality of her body there in the ground.
A few Sundays ago in church, I saw a little girl wearing the same pink sweater that we slipped over Rachel's Easter dress before the viewing. I never saw Rachel wear it in life, and yet suddenly there was this little girl about Rachel's age (had she still been alive).....and oh, I longed for my little girl then! I hear of other moms who dream about their child that has died and I wish that just once I could have a good dream about Rachel too....
The kids are SO addicted to listening to the Narnia stories now. It's so neat to hear them talk excitedly about parts of the story that they like the most. This morning they listened to the entire book "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" (!). Afterwards they had to make rafts with popsicle sticks and called one "Treader". They walk around using proper sounding British expressions like "oh bother!" So neat. Anyway, there's this part at the end when Aslan tells them that he is going to open up the sky and send them home. In this instance, He was meaning 'home' to their lives in England. But I heard the word 'home' and it sparked this huge yearning in me for our true home. I just stood there looking out the kitchen window at the sky for a long time....
Last night, I read the story of Lazarus to the kids. I told them that Jesus didn't make it back on time to heal Lazarus (that he took his time getting there), that Lazarus had died, and the words of his sister saying "If only you had been there..." And as I read, I thought about how my kids know what death looks like. They both held their little sister's still body. I could see their faces drop last night, when I told them that Lazarus died. I thought they already knew the story but it seemed like it was new again for them.
But then - oh, I wish you could have seen Ethan's face when I told him that Lazarus walked right out of that tomb......he gave out this whoop and started bouncing up and down on his chair with this huge grin!! And I had to struggle to keep reading for the tears.....for the deep longing in my heart and for the immense gratitude to God that He has broken the power of death.
With Rachel's body in the grave - and with news on my mind of so many more various losses and griefs, Easter Sunday and the hope of resurrection feels about as far away as ever....BUT, I am glad that the death I have seen and touched does not tell the whole story. One day we will really know and see with our own eyes that everything He has said is true...
I saw this verse today.... "Death has been swallowed up in Victory." 1 Cor 15:54 And I felt like giving a little whoop of my own when I read it;)
I turned thirty-five last week. And maybe this seems silly to you, but I felt like I was about to cross some big invisible line. You know.....the time when child-bearing becomes more "risky", fertility drops yadda yadda yadda....and while I am SO incredibly thankful to have had the experience of bringing three beautiful children into this world, I still feel sad about leaving that chapter behind.
What really made this birthday tough for me though, was that it was my first birthday without Rachel. I tried not to think of it. But as hard as I tried, all I could think about was her and how our home seemed so much emptier because she wasn't with us. And I hadn't felt quite this way for a long time.
You want to know what I remember about my birthday last year? Truthfully, the only thing I have been able to remember is sitting with Rachel in the Living room, trying to soak her in because I knew my next birthday would be different. That's it. I can't remember anything else.
And so, I didn't feel much like celebrating this year. At one point, I told Dave that if it were up to me, I would just curl up alone on our bed and cry. But we did have some of our family over for dessert in the evening and it turned out to be a really nice time. I had made a really super rich chocolate cake the day before and Dave iced it. I think I received four 'Tea' related gifts this year, which is wonderful. Dave bugs me all the time about our bulging tea basket and the overflow into the cupboard.... he he...and there's always room for more.
This is David's birthday gift for me. I think it's perfect. I love that they have dragonflies. They remind us of the short story called ""Waterbugs & Dragonflies - Explaining Death to Young Children". We read it often to our kids both before and after Rachel was born. Dave told this story to the kids last Easter Sunday during the Children's feature in our church...
I'm going to go buy another matching cup. Want to come over for tea?
The God of the Cross "I could never myself believe in God if it were not for the cross…
In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was im-mune to it? I have entered many Buddhist temples in different Asian countries and stood respectfully be-fore the statute of Buddha - - his legs crossed, arms folded, eyes closed, the ghost of a smile playing round his mouth, a remote look on his face, detached from the agony of the world.
But each time, after awhile, I have had to turn away. And in imagination, I have turned instead to that lonely, twisted, tortured figure on the cross -- nails through his hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in God-forsaken darkness.
