Connections

Those little crosses on the side of every road mean so much more to me then they used to. I used to drive past and think, oh thats sad, someone died there, then I would forget and move on with my day. How many crosses did I pass before that sunny Sunday afternoon when my mom became a cross on the side of the road? How many do you pass on your way to work, or the grocery store or to pick your kids up at school? Have you ever thought about what those crosses, or little roadside memorials represent? Really thought about the lives behind them? There are at least 3 roadside "memorials" on the way to drop off my son at school. One was faded and hanging on a tree and has just recently been changed to a new bright wreath, it was around Christmas that I noticed it had become new again. Someone still hurts and honors the spot where their loved one breathed their last. Then there is another, a cross with flowers that sits at the edge of a neighborhood. The cross is not faded with time and the silk flowers are changed often. Now when I pass these memorials I often wonder who that person was, were they young or old? Were they a mother or a son or a sister to someone? What kind of void have they left in the lives of those left behind? I would love to know each story, sit down with those loved ones and talk about who that person was and what they meant and what they left behind.



 





A few years ago I remember reading an article about how they wanted to do away with these sacred little memorials on roadsides. Someone thought the crosses were offensive or just a sad trashy reminder of our mortality. Boy doesn't it ruin your day to come face to face several times over with the fact that we all will in fact die? That probably before we do, we will have to suffer through losing loved ones? Stink. I just remember thinking then how sad that was. To the the families that put up these roadside memorials it is healing and a testament to a life lived and a life lost. I guess someone who felt inconvenienced by it all didn't want to be reminded of death on his drive to the grocery store or wherever it is he is going everyday. I wonder how differently they would feel if they had to set up one for their daughter or son or mother? These little crosses are a testament to our fragile human condition. They should remind us all how life is precious and a gift not to be wasted. To me these crosses are proof that we all want to feel loved and connected. The families that raise their little roadside memorials are really saying, hey someone we loved, someone that mattered, died here. Take notice, stop and think. They are saying someone special is gone, and we need you to know they were here at all.

 Don't we all want to feel recognized and loved? I think so, I think we all yearn for connectedness, to be wanted and needed by someone. I think God built us this way. I think if we all maybe thought a little bit more about how each of us is really fighting this same battle that leads to the same outcome (death and taxes, or is it taxes and death) would there be more kindness in the world? We could all think a little bit more about what others burdens are, maybe that person being rude or pushy in line behind you has a few roadside crosses to bear. Maybe that child that is loud and acting crazy just lost his sister or his mom or his brother. Maybe that person thats scowling at your needs a warm smile to melt the cold that has set in in his heart since his wife of almost 50 years passed away a year ago.

After Koralyn died, I used to feel so isolated in a public place, especially a store that carried girl clothes or girly things; which is like every store, because lets face it, girls like to shop and moms of girls like to shop for their girls, HA! I used to walk past all those little baby girl clothes and think about how unfair it all was, how no one knows this pain of having a sweet girl to dress and love and be so proud of and then having her taken away. I was really good at the whole, lets go to the Target baby section and feel sorry for ourselves bit. Rightly so I suppose, for a time. After all, it was hard to be pregnant with a girl after carrying two boys and not really feel able to fully enjoy the experience. They say a mom knows and I believe I did to a point. I felt guarded. While registering for my baby shower I wondered what the point was, I didn't know what to register for, what sizes, would she even be able to wear clothes in the hospital? Should I register for anything past six months? Would she live at all? After the most wonderful shower my friends threw for me I remember sitting surrounded by all the beautiful pink and girl things and thinking, am I going to be able to use this stuff? In a way I felt robbed of this wonderful experience of finally getting a girl. I felt like people didn't understand, they would smile and say, yay! You are finally getting your girl! I would think, yes but am I really getting her? I wanted to hope and did, we prayed and hoped and trusted God knew what he was doing. We prayed to the end for a miracle. While she was in my belly and after she came out. I remember my mom telling me to talk to that sweet baby, rub your belly and tell her she is strong and beautiful and everything is going to be all right. So I did, and I loved her, she was my daughter!

I guess what I am trying to say is, it is really easy to only see your cross on the side of the road, to only see your empty crib and empty shopping cart minus all the cute pink clothes you should be buying for your daughter. Its when we look up, look over, look in that persons face next to us and ask what their story is that we realize we are not alone. God made us to want connection because he wants us to be connected! To him and to one another. He wants those who have grief to share it with others and then to lighten the next grief stricken load that comes along. It has been such a huge comfort and blessing to have other sweet moms come tell me about the babies they have loved and lost. Or to have a daughter tell me how much she misses talking to her mom on the phone at night. It is beautiful really and the world would be a lot kinder if we all looked up from our Target basket full of pity to the person next to us and wondered, hey what are they going through? What grief are they carrying around that I could help with or learn from? I wonder what that mom over there who looks perfect and polished is carrying around.

Looks can be deceiving, and I think here in America we like to think no roads should have crosses on them, and everyone next to us at the store only has good things to tell.  I think, I know my grief and pity is at its worst when I am only looking inward at what has happened to me. When I assume I am the only one with a roadside cross to bear. When I forget that everyone I pass in the car, in the store, at the school, has a story to tell. Both good and bad, some maybe more sad then others, some more tragic, some more blessed and happy. We all have pain, we have all felt loss in some way, isn't it time we remember that? How much more beautiful and kind would the world be if we could all remember and have more compassion for other people's carts and sacks and crosses full of hurt. If we could remember that every broken soul we pass, is just that, broken and wanting to feel special and belong to someone.

 Next time you are at the Kroger or Target or wherever it is you shop, stop and look at just one person, old or young and think for a moment about what hurt they might be carrying with them in their cart. Then maybe smile at them and wish them a good day. Or better yet tell them about the Jesus they can belong to, the one they can connect with, the one who carried the biggest roadside cross of them all. The God who gave up his Son for us (I know I am a chicken too, and shamefully even embarrassed that some at this point of reading will roll their eyes and groan at the mention of my Jesus)

Next time you pass one of those little crosses on the side of the road, say a little prayer for that family, whoever they might be. Pray joy for their souls and comfort for their pain. Let us all take heart in the fact that we are not alone, in our grief or our happiness either! Thank you precious souls who have shared your sweet babies with me, it helps to know I am not the only mom in Target feeling jealous or grief stricken. To know I am not the only daughter who has lost her sweet young mom and can't call her on a Sunday night. Thank you, go spread some more of that around! I know I am going to try!

^" Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position.^{"    
 Romans 12: 15-16}

Hurricanes

Here I sit in a hotel room in Galveston Texas on the 2nd day of 2013. A new year, so fresh and exciting for all those who love new beginnings. I am a lover of new beginnings, being type A, don't I have to be? Isn't it a requirement to love fresh new things, clean slates, new opportunities? I am one of those little girls that thought every new August and the beginning of school, could bring with it a whole new life. More organized, more happy, more friends. Less teasing, less hurt, less confusion in math class. Whatever I wanted it to be! I am one of those teenage girls that always started my diet  on a Monday or on the first day of a new month. I am a mom now who resolves to start fresh in the morning. Less yelling, less impatience, more grace, more games, more laughs from my boys.

This new year I feel so different, more contemplative then I have ever been before. More grown, and worn and weary then ever before; but also more hopeful and thankful and yes joyful then ever before as well. I look back on the hellish year behind me and I am so thankful for so many things and hopeful for things to come. I feel like I know something so many people never get to know in their lives here on this earth. The peace that surpasses all understanding.

Being here in Galveston has brought this soul-searching so to speak, to the surface even more so. As many of you know a  long time ago Galveston was hit by what they call "The Great Storm." On September 8, 1900 a massive category 4 hurricane with winds they think hit 145mph came ashore on Galveston Island. Back then the town was booming and had a population close to 40,000 people. As you can imagine hurricane reporting was in its infancy back in 1900 so the residents of Galveston were unaware of what was about to happen to their beloved town. They knew a storm was coming but had no idea of its magnitude. Much of the island was caught off guard and the residents became prisoners in their homes and lost their lives to the massive destruction that took place. To make matters worse, the hurricane and eye of the storm hit the island at dusk and into the night. Can you imagine the terror these poor people must have felt? The chaos and confusion as they huddled in their houses that were soon nothing more then sticks on the beach, if that. It is said that after the storm, babies were found craddled in the arms of their mothers, none living, not mother or child. Many families were swept out to sea never to be seen again. Lives completely gone in a matter of seconds, with no known evidence that they were ever there in the first place, other then memories and maybe a few photographs. To look at the pictures and hear the stories of survivors of this storm is like nothing else. So much destruction, so much death, complete and utter devastation.



Honestly, had I survived this great storm, and walked out from under the wreckage and saw the death and destruction. I am pretty sure I would have packed my bags, that is if there were anything left to pack, taken my dignity and gotten the heck off the island and as far away from any beach as possible. Trying hard to forget what had occurred that deep dark night one September. Now some might have done that, probably many did, I don't know for sure. These past days here learning about this storm and its aftermath I am taken by the souls who stayed.The people that went to work clearing away the debris and the dead. They spent years, rebuilding their beloved island's foundation to be higher and stronger. They literally raised the elevation of the entire island so it could withstand another hurricane. Not only that, but they built a seawall to protect the city from the next storm surge.In order to do all this the residents that stayed had to deal with mud and water and messes for several years. And the story goes that they did, endure it all and without much complaint, because they knew that out of the mess would come something stronger and better.  As with any storm, its usually the aftermath that is so hard to deal with. The aftermath is when you learn of the destruction that has taken place. After the shock wears off and you are able to look around, really look, you learn what is gone and what is left. The aftermath is what makes people want to leave and never come back. After the storm is when you have to chose whether to stay and try to rebuild and start anew where you are at, or to run and find another place to lay the foundation of your home and your life.



I think many of my friends and family have heard me compare 2012 to a massive storm. Like a hurricane that hit our lives and now here we are on the beach in the aftermath of sticks and death and destruction, complete and utter devastation. Obviously those first dark hours of finding our way around and getting our bearings in the aftermath of the storm have passed. We are now in the rebuilding stage. Bit by bit, piece by broken piece, we have decided to stay and rebuild on this foundation that is our life. The ugly messy debris has been cleared so to speak, so that we can see the solid dry ground once again. It isn't an easy decision, how many times have I wanted to run and hide during this process. No, we are not rebuilding a house of material goods of course, but a life or lives really, that have been beaten and battered and look nothing like they did a year ago at this time. Really being stripped down to the foundation and having to come back and remember and rebuild. It has been so very helpful for me to find other lives that have been ravaged and are furthur along in the rebulding process. These people, moms, dads, sisters, brothers, daughters and sons. Whoever they are, have helped me to see the possibilities for my rebuilding project. I have read many a book on grief, scrolled through blog after blog of moms like me that have lost a sweet baby or a mother of their own. All these stories have been helpful and healing to me in some way. All have helped me to look inside and out in my life and see what I do or don't want to become in the aftermath of losing my grandma, my mom, and my sweet Koralyn. I am so greatful for their stories and words and courage to write them down for others to have in their time of grief.

I have learned, some people in the face of devastation, lay down and die themselves, whether literally or in spirit. They give up, they let go. They cannot see beyond the destruction and the hurt.They can't or won't clear away the debris and start fresh on solid ground. For some the debris is too priceless and they don't really have a foundation under it all to stand on. So they spend their lives sitting and sifting through the debris but never letting it go enough to build a new life. They seem stuck in the old one. We have all seen those houses that need to be torn down after the hurricane. They are an ugly eyesore to all who pass by, but for some reason they are still half standing, rotting away in the spot where they landed. They seem such a sad waste of good earth, if only they could be cleared away, something new could be born and built in that very spot that holds priceless memories. I think we can all point to someone who seems to be rotting in their debris, whatever it may be. A death, a divorce, a failure of some kind. Such sadness and waste.

 But then some people, they become great. They take the tragedy and make it beautiful. These people seem to take the most important bits and pieces from their debris and they rebuild on the foundation that is their lives. Only, they make it better then it was before. Smarter, more loving and kind, more giving. They put in more windows to let the light come in, they add more color and warmth and love to make their lives more welcoming for others. They take what God has given them right in the place where they are and they choose to make it magnificient! Beautiful souls like Angie Smith http://angiesmithonline.com/  or Mark and Chelsea Jacobs http://www.hischase.org/ or Ann Voscamp http://www.aholyexperience.com/ . They grieve and  feel the weight of their own tragedys, they see God and a purpose in those tragedys and then they move into action to help others. And in helping others rebuild their lives, they themselves rebuild their own lives and  become richer and more beautiful in the process. It is amazing to me what God can do with a tragedy if you let him come in and help clean up the aftermath and the debris that is covering his solid foundation.

This, this is what I want to do! I want to take this debris and make it beautiful and meaningful and helpful to others!  We, are still trying to figure out exactly what that looks like for our family. In the meantime, everyday is a gift and a challenge and I want to run this race to the best of my ability and make it count! Precious loved ones have been taken from my life. In their lives and their deaths and now their absence, I have learned and am still learning what a gift this life is and how each moment counts for something, whether we like it or not! How the smallest or biggest act of kindness and love in God's name can mean healing and restoration for another hurting helpless soul, like my own. How many precious souls have loved me and helped me wade through the debris during this past year of my life. I am so greatful for each and every single one of you. I want to take these precious gifts of love and multiply them times infinity and make my mom, my grandma, my sweet Koralyn and my Savior most proud!  What does that look like? With Gods grace, I can't wait to find out!