Lisa Bevere

2.28.14

     The night before, when I had filled my Mom in on all the twitter conversation about no book-signing, my sassy Mom had said to me, "Well just keep your books with you at all times, you never know when you'll have the opportunity to catch one of them and tell them your story." Yeah, my Mom is such a rebel.

     Friday morning, we had decided that we were going to get to the conference super early, just to give God ample opportunity to let me run into Lisa or Priscilla. The conference started at 9:30, doors opening at 9:00, so we decided to get there around 8:30, plenty of time before hand. Plenty of time to claim a seat just behind the speakers to bend their ears.
      Then disaster struck. The first thing was that my Dad, who was flying in to Austin, had decided to fly in that morning and his flight was going to land at 8:00 am. Plenty of time, right? Wrong. His flight ended up being about an hour and a half late. He was set to land right in the middle of the first session. So Mom and I scrambled to figure out a way to get a car to the airport, or to reserve a car, but we ended up getting him on a shuttle that would be waiting for him as soon as he landed. Problem solved.
       Then my Mom opened her closet door. Sometime in the middle of the night, one of her dogs had gotten sick in her closet, twice. So at this point its about 8:30 and my Mom is trying to hurry and get ready and telling me to go ahead and go to the conference and she'll meet me there (like I'm going to leave her...). In the meantime, I just started laughing. In her frustration, she finally said, "WHAT is so funny?!" I finally just told her that obviously it was really important for us to be at the conference this morning because Satan sure was doing his best to make sure we didn't make it. And then she just started laughing, too.

       After finally getting everything cleaned up and the house locked for my Dad to get there, we arrived at the conference a few minutes after the doors had opened. Now that we had been in one session, we knew that Lisa and Priscilla would sit on the front row towards the left side, so we hauled it towards that area of the auditorium.
   
        Lisa got up and spoke that morning. Have I mentioned lately how much I love Lisa Bevere? I have a total girl crush on her because she speaks truth in an empowering way towards women.

There's Lisa teaching.

       That morning, Lisa said some nuggets of wisdom that I jotted down to remember them:

• When under pressure, your faith life is forced out into the open.
• Do not let the world tangle you in the small questions when you have the big answer.

• If you're don't pray prayers that are scary to you, you're not scaring the enemy. 

     Like I've said before, the woman is an absolute warrior for God and I look up to her a lot. 

     Before we knew it, the session was over and it was time for a break. There was only one person between me and the isle that morning, and as the session came to a close I whispered to my Mom, "I think I'm going to try to go up there and talk to her." And of course, my Mom was saying, "DO IT" the whole time.

     Session ends, the lady next to me gets up and leaves, and of course she's left her iPad there. Of course. So I have to run yell at her and give her iPad back to her and then I start heading upstream towards Lisa. 

     Lisa was standing talking to Lori Champion, who is the co-pastor of Celebration church, and who had been called out by one of the other speakers as the "Barbie" of the church since she's so skinny, pretty, and blonde (and her husband is a doppelganger of Ken). Anyways, as I come up the isle, Lisa is reaching down to get her purse off the chair (its a big silver bag, just for the record), and I wait for a minute hoping that she is going to turn around. No such luck, time to be bold. So I tap her on the shoulder.

     "Lisa, can I have just three minutes of your time?" I asked tentatively.

     "Of course!" she said, and she set down her purse. I don't know why that detail is so important to me, but it just reminds me that she was not only taking a few minutes, but she was preparing not to rush our conversation. Amazing.

      I told her about the letter I had given to her assistant, Hannah, the night before and asked if she received it (I realized I left out this detail- so Mom and I ran into Hannah in the little shopping mart after Priscilla's session the night before. Since I was resigned to not getting my book signed, I decided that finding Lisa's assistant was the next best option. It wasn't really hard- she was standing right next to the book table asking if anyone had any questions about the materials). Lisa said she hadn't gotten a note yet, but not to worry since I used the note as my "self-prep" to help get my story together concisely.

     "I first heard you speak in Frisco last January, and at the time I was facing a deployment,  pregnancy, and a new job," I started.

     "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, patting me on the arm.

     "Oh no, that's not the half of it... So last fall we lost our daughter, Kaitlyn, to a stillbirth..." I finished quietly, to the horror on her face. "And I believe that God wants to have closed communication with us, so I needed to tell you that because you followed God's prompting to write Girls with Swords, God used you to help me in one of the darkest seasons of my life. I just needed to tell you face-to-face, thank you. Thank you for being courageous and writing that book. Thank you for letting God use you. Thank you for everything." 

       Once I finished talking, Lisa had tears running down her face. She had been holding my hands between us as she listened, and then she pulled me into a hug. 

       "Can I pray for you?" was her only response. Um, heck yes you can, Lisa.

       I wish I could have had someone record her prayer over me, but I just remember her claiming that the next child that came from us would live, and that we would be blessings to everyone around us. She claimed goodness over our lives, and she claimed that God would use me to His glory. 

      It was cool.

Me and Lisa huggin' it out

Is she not the coolest?! 

      Since I had dominated about 15 minutes of her time (instead of 3), I realized that other people were standing around waiting to talk to her as well. I had accidentally left my bag of books back with Mom, so I told Lisa that I would love to have her sign my copy if she had any time.

      "Absolutely," she said. "I will find you tonight!"

I love Lisa Bevere.

The Book Signing

2.28.14
 
     Later that night, Lisa lead a "break out session" for all the women between 11 and 29 (narrowly made that window). The generous ladies at Celebration church had provided dinner for us, and our table slowly filled with the few of us that were on the upper end of the age bracket (no shame, folks, no shame).
     Lisa opened by talking about her 4 boys at home, and her one granddaughter, and then she moved on to how important the upcoming generation is.
     "Ladies, I have prayed for a generation to rise up and take the church to a new level of believing in God," she said with passion. "I. Have. Prayed. For. You.
      "You live in a time where everything you do is transparent, and everything you do is up for critique. You need to be careful- if you listen too long to what others think about you, they will define you," she said.
        "And here's the thing: friends can be the guardians of your dreams. But you are also the guardians of theirs. Don't be silent when your words may encourage someone else. Your painful past can be preventative to someone else's future."

         After she finished talking and left the stage, I quickly realized that a line was forming in the back of the auditorium to talk to her. Well, dang! I got up and walked to the line, managing somehow to get to be the second in line (there was a group of girls in front of me all together) and I waited as the group had decided that one of their own was a perfect fit for one of Lisa's single sons. I listened to them "pitch" their friend, and they spent probably 10 minutes talking to her. Finally, Lisa saw me, had recognition, and she started to part the teenagers with her arms stretched out to take my book and my sharpie from me.
        Once the girls left, I asked her if she had read my note yet.
        "I haven't had a chance yet!" she almost cried. "I know Hannah has it, I promise I will read it!"
        I just giggled at her and said, "Don't worry, its not urgent, I just wanted to be sure you saw it and know where it is."
       With this, Lisa opened the book that had been one of my sidekicks in the very early days of loss. I had great quote underlined, and several pages dog-eared for quick reference for when I was feeling defeated. Lisa shook her head as she opened to the title page to sign, and she hesitated with the sharpie hanging over the page as if she didn't want to mark in it.
        "Hey, this is totally fine to mark up- look at all this writing I did all over it!" I laughed at her.
        She continued to shake her head and said, "No, its not that, it's just that I know who you are, and who you are destined to be."
        And with that, she signed my book, hugged me, and I went off to the auditorium.

"Lovely Brave Amy-

I am proud of you!

Lisa Bevere"

NOW, Beyond the Beyond.

2.27.14

     Priscilla took the stage, her black hair forming a cascading wave of dark hair around her face. She has the most engaging eyes and mannerisms, and even though we were sitting halfway towards the back on one side, I felt that she was talking to me directly.
     Priscilla had us all look at Ephesians 3:20-21, and she used the Holman Christian Standard Bible translation (just FYI- this is the version that Beth Moore teaches out of a lot):

"Now, to Him who is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think

according to the power that works within us- to Him be the glory in the church

and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen."

       The first time Priscilla read this, she stood at the podium and just read it with passion. The second time, she stepped far over to the right side of the stage and did a little walk as she recited the verse. 

       "NOW," she said, pointing to the ground, "Now is telling us that the writer is pulling from a previous thought. Now is used to bring these two thoughts together, and now is indicative of time. It means both things simultaneously."

        "NOW," she said again, pointing to the ground, and then she took a step forward to cross the stage, "to Him. To Him tells us who we are talking to. Him is God. Him is Jesus." 

         She turned and walked back to her starting place.

        "NOW," she says for the third time, "to Him (one step) who is able (another step forward) to do. Our God is able. He is able to do things to us and for us." Again, she skipped back to her starting place with the giggles from the audience.

         "NOW," points to the ground, "to Him (one step) who is able (two step) to do (stretches leg really far out for step three) above and beyond all that we ask or think." Here is where she pauses and sits for a minute. "Think about that for a minute- above and beyond. Greater and bigger. Wider and deeper. More than our 'more.' God is able to take what we ask him for and go beyond our beyond. Have you ever been in that situation where you prayed for God to do something, but what He ended up doing was so much better than anything you could have even imagined?" she asked. "Have you ever asked for something, and then realized that Our God is so much bigger and better than anything you can imagine? Have you ever paused in the middle of a prayer and said, 'Unless you have something better in mind, then ignore what I just said and go with what You have written for me.' Our God is beyond our beyond." 

         Again she skipped back to the starting point on stage, and she started again, but this time completed the verse. I wrote it out so that you can visualize with each line that she took a step forward.

"Now,

 to him 

who is able to do

above and beyond all that we ask or think 

according to the power that works within us

to Him be the glory

in the church and in Christ Jesus

to all generations, forever and ever. Amen."

         Our God is big. And He has big, beautiful, beyond things planned for us. Priscilla reminded me that He has plans bigger than I could ever dream or ask for, and I'm sure looking forward to what He has planned for us.

The Radiant conference part I

2.27.14

    Last fall, my Mom had sent me an invite to the Radiant Conference at a church in Round Rock. The key speakers were Priscilla Shirer and Lisa Bevere, two of the most influential authors to me in a very defining moment of my life. I'm not going to lie, at first I was hesitant. The conference was from Thursday night to Saturday, so I knew I would have to take off a few days from work. But my Mom is persistent, and after a few days of my hesitation, she bought us both tickets before the price could go up (yay Mom!).

    On Thursday, I worked in the morning, and then loaded up the car with the dogs and headed on down to Austin. I was excited. My Mom got there early, and she had gotten our bracelets that served as our entrance passes.
     I had brought just about every book in my arsenal that had anything to do with either of them: Girls With Swords (obviously), Life Interrupted by Shirer, and Lioness Arising by Bevere. I was stoked about getting my books signed, and hopefully getting the chance to tell these two women how much they meant to me in the depth of my despair and how much God used their work to drag me back to life. I wanted to tell them, in person, that their work meant something.
     I got to Round Rock a little bit early, so I sat down and decided to write each Priscilla and Lisa a note. I figured that if I got in front of them, I may just break down and start crying because our story is just so... raw still, and I didn't want to take too much of their time. I'm sure there would be a lot of ladies there and these two writers are pretty big deals, so I didn't want to be disrespectful of their time or of anyone else's desire to see them.

By the way, I stole that sign off from Erin, she always signs

her emails and blogposts like that. It seemed appropriate

and I don't think Erin would mind.

    I was so excited to get to give these ladies these notes. I felt like I did a good job consolidating what is, at the moment, 147 blog posts of thoughts and grief and courage. 

    When we arrived at the church that night, I was shocked at how many people were there. Like all conferences, they have the tables set up where the speakers can display their books for people to buy. Mom and I perused the books, picked up a few t-shirts, and headed to the check out. It was here where I found some of the women that were volunteering from the church to help run the conference.

     "Do you guys know when they are doing book signings?" I asked as she ran my credit card.

     "Umm... I don't know... Hey, did you hear anything about book signings?" she asked the lady next to her.

      "Nope, haven't heard anything," the other lady replied.

      "No worries," I said as she handed me my bag of goodies. "I'm sure they'll announce it." 

      What does my generation do when there's a question about a schedule? Why, take it to twitter, of course!

      Me: "@RadiantConf Will @PriscillaShirer and @LisaBevere be signing books? I have something for both of them- pretty please!" (Can't get what you want without honey, you know...)

      @RadiantConf: "(mytwittername) no book signings but plenty of the presence of God! Plus lots of resources and giveaways!"

      Me: "@Radiantconf No worries- I will mail to their respective orgs what I have for them! Thanks for the response!"

      Even now as I re-type that, I make a face. I was disappointed, I'm not going to lie. I wanted these girls to know that they helped me. That God used their ministry in such a dark time of my life. Didn't this person understand that this was important? I was severely disappointed. But then I decided to shift my perspective (pretty much the only thing I have control over), and I decided that it just wasn't meant to be. I decided that I was here because they were going to say something important that I needed to hear, and not to sign a book. 

I was still disappointed. 

       

     During worship that night, I had a heart-to-heart with God about my disappointment. I told him flat out that I had hoped to meet these women, and that I was sad that I wouldn't have the opportunity. And then I said to Him, "Okay God, this weekend is about me and you. This is about us, and I know that you are going to tell me something important. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for You, so I am trusting that you will use me how you need to this weekend. Just me and You this weekend, just me and You."

"Inspirational" speaker

2.25.14

    One of the nurses I work with, Sherri, is involved with a local chapter of a service sorority, and she had asked me a few weeks ago about coming to share Kaitlyn's story with her group.
     "We try to have inspirational speakers come and share their stories every other meeting," she told me.
     I laughed at her and told her she was giving me way too much credit, but I agreed to come share Kailtyn's story. At the time, I think I just wanted to be able to share. I like talking about Kaitlyn when I'm in the mood for it, and I love raising awareness and helping others who may have experienced a loss or knows someone who has experienced a loss.
     That was it, I was signed up to speak with her group on March 13 and she confirmed with me this day.

     Later in the day, my company decided to have a mandatory meeting where the VP of the company was going to be in attendance, and it was around the same time as Sherri's gathering. I was stressed out. I didn't want to miss the meeting, but I had already committed and confirmed that I was going to speak at Sherri's group. I decided that I would just have to leave the meeting a few minutes early, and that it would all be okay.

Group counseling again

2.24.14

     On Monday, I realized that the hospital grief group was meeting that night. For some reason, I just felt like I needed to go. Couldn't put my finger on it, but I decided that if I somehow "magically" remembered, then it was pretty obvious that I needed to go.
      Alex decided to bow out of this session, so I drove up to the hospital solo with a Hope Box under my arm. I figured I would talk to the nurses that run the group while I was there about the ministry and getting it started at that hospital anyways.
      For the first few minutes, it was just me and Ginny, the nurse who runs the group. Then others slowly started trickling in. There was a gay couple and one other hetero couple (yeah I don't know the PC way to say that), and then another lady going solo. We started as we started all of the grief groups, with everyone telling their stories.
      Since I was a veteran in the group, Ginny asked me to go first, and I was happy to tell our story just because I know how much hearing others' stories helped me in the beginning.
      Then the gay couple started telling their story: both were female, if I didn't say that outright or if it wasn't obvious (I don't know if it would be...?). Anyways, the older one, named R, was the one that carried their baby girl, and then S was the younger one who did not carry. They lost their baby girl one day after her due date. S was clearly still angry about the whole situation, and she confessed with us that she doesn't believe in a "higher power". She told a story about being so angry that she just started picking apart the word, "Stillbirth."
      "Still," she said, "means quiet, and peaceful, calm. Her birth was anything but calm. So there I sat in this coffee shop down the street from our house and I was just picking, picking apart the word stillbirth and just getting irate at the term for what we went through. It was not peaceful." She let her tears flow freely down her face as she told the story, her partner sitting quietly by her side.
      The other couple had lost their little boy, and he had a heart defect that was not picked up on the sonogram. They had given birth at one hospital, but they had to move both the baby and the mom to another hospital by ambulance to try to get their son into heart surgery. Unfortunately, he wasn't stable enough to go through surgery and passed away shortly after making it to the hospital. The husband of that couple kept blinking back his tears as he talked about his son because he had been the one to ride in the ambulance with the baby.
      The last story was from the lady who was there solo. She started to tell her story, and as she told the name of her son, Logan, and the time frame, I started putting two and two together.
      "Wait, are you...?" I interrupted her story. And she slowly started to nod. This is Melissa, that I had just dropped off a Hope Box for on Friday. I went over to the couch she was sitting on and gave her a BIG HUG. She was so fresh from her pain, and I was so humbled that God used me to deliver her box and to meet her in person at this meeting.
       It was the perfect transition into the Hope Box ministry. I talked to the group about the boxes, and told them that I had one there if anyone wanted it. S of the gay couple took the box, and I was shocked.

Maybe God was going to use these boxes in even bigger ways than we could ever imagine.

Runner's weekend and more boxes

2.22.14

     On Friday evening, Alex and I had been invited to go over to Fort Worth where his brother and sister-in-law live. The boys were going to be running a 10k in the morning, while Audra and I shopped around and wasted time waiting on them to finish.
     It had been a great trip, and we were thrilled to finally get to see their new home and meet their doggies. It was cold that morning, so Audra and I went and looked around all the booths in the expo center while we waited for the guys to get close to the finish line. After about 30 minutes, we decided to go ahead and make our way to the finish line so we could get pictures of them as they crossed.

Before the race- can you tell they're brothers?

After the race- both a little sweaty :-)

       Chris was so excited when they finished the race- he told Alex he had never run that far before without stopping. Alex was pumped because he loves to run, and he loves to encourage other people because he's been where they are before. 

        I doubt I've ever written about this, but my husband has actually lost about 100 pounds since we've been married. Now, I love him at any weight, but I see how happy he is with is self-image and he gets a lot of joy out of helping other with their weight loss and endurance goals. Some of the girls at his gym periodically tell me, "I hate your husband- he pushes me to places I don't want to go." I laugh and tell them welcome to my life. 

         Chris started his weight loss journey about a year and a half ago, and at the time of this race he has lost 105 pounds. He's doing such a phenomenal job, and we are so proud of him and Audra as they are working towards a healthier lifestyle! 

        That afternoon, Alex and I headed back to Dallas to meet up with another family member, Alice, who is Alex's first cousin. Her parents, Lucy and Paul, had lost twins when they were growing their family, and Lucy had reached out to me and had given me the book I Will Carry You  by Angie Smith. I still haven't read the book, but it sits on my nightstand as a reminder of the love and effort that they showed to be there for us in our darkest hour. 

        Alice is one of the most genuine people you've ever met, and I thought she would enjoy going with me to pick up some of the books needed for the Hope Boxes that I felt like I needed to put together. I told her that I had given away 4 boxes already, but I felt like I should always have one ready just in case. She agreed, and off to Hobby Lobby and Mardel's we went. 

        Alice is very much like me, and she likes to bargain shop. While I was finding journals on sale and picking out two of the three books I needed, she was googling for a coupon code. I loved it! We were able to pick up 2 journals and one set of books, but I was kind of arguing with myself about picking up more books. They were available, but I didn't want to go overboard. The boxes each cost about $50, and if I had my way I would probably make as many as possible just to be able to love on some Moms in the way that others loved on me, but I still have to keep it reasonable.    

         We headed over to Hobby Lobby, talking about the Hope Boxes, and Alex, and how we were healing, and we picked out a few things to decorate the boxes with. Again, Alice was on it with her phone and got us another deal! It was a lot of fun. 

          As we were getting ready to leave, she pulled on my arm and said, "Come on, we're going to go back to Mardels and get that other book for you. My mom would want me to do that to help you with your ministry." How awesome is that! So we went back over to Mardels, and we were able to complete the books for the second box. I was so blessed to be able to share such a fun and meaningful experience with her, and I was humbled and honored that she called this my ministry.

 I'm late to the party, but I'm still happy to be here.

Delivering another Hope Box

2.21.14

     On Friday, I got word of another Hope Mom that needed a box. Luckily, she wasn't too far from my work that day, so I scooted over to her house to see if I could show this new sister some love.
      Unfortunately, Melissa wasn't home, but I did take a picture of her box on her front doorstep.

Melissa's box

       This box was decorated by one of my roommates at the Hope Mommies retreat, and I just loved the simplicity of the twine around the edge of the lid and the simple blue flower. It was beautiful, and I knew that it would be welcomed and loved by the recipient. It was also the last Hope Box that I had left from the retreat, so that weekend I spent making two more.

Back to L&D Again

2.17.14

     It was one of those days again, when I just felt like I needed to go back to the Labor and Delivery department to see if I could catch Amy while she was at work. I walked into the hospital and headed up to the postpartum floor, where the nurse at the nurses' station recognized me from when I had tried to see Amy a few weeks before. I asked if she was working, and the nurse grinned and told me that she was, but she was in the NICU department.
     I had to follow one of the hallways and wait outside a locked door for Amy to come find me. I had cut my hair recently, so it took her a minute to recognize me. When she did, she gave me a big hug and said, "How are you?! I got your note and I tried to figure out a way to contact you, but I couldn't really."
      I laughed and told her it was totally fine and that I had realized after I left her the note that I didn't leave a way for her to contact me.
      "How's Alex?" she asked, not even needing me to prompt her with his name. In those first days at the hospital, I am sure that some of the staff bonded more with Alex than they did me, just because half the time I was so drugged up that I didn't have coherent conversations with them. The funniest memory I have of Amy, though, was about 6 hours after my night nurse had removed my epidural she came in and asked if I was ready to try to get out of bed. I said, "YUP" and swung my legs over the bed, and then walked myself to the bathroom. Amy had looked up at my mom and said, "I've never seen anyone get out of bed that fast..." It was a proud moment for me because I was ready to get the heck out of that hospital.
       I knew that we made an impression on Amy because of another conversation that we had with Kenney after everything was said and done. She told us that while she was in the doctor's dictation area working on some paperwork for Kaitlyn's death certificate, Amy had come and sat next to her and said, "I don't know how you can do this day in and day out." Amy told Kenney how she had fallen in love with us as a couple, and how hard the few days being our nurse had been on her. She even cried over Kaitlyn with Kenney, but I know that Kenney comforted her and told her that this is one of the many reasons Kenney is in the field that she's in: she loves to serve people and love on them in their deepest time of need.
       I remembered how Amy had stood out at the curb after she had wheeled me down the hallway with my noise-cancelling earphones (provided by Alex) on, and how she had hugged on me and cried a little as we left the hospital. It is one of those memories that will always be sharp to me, because there was so much pain and hesitation and relief, all rolled into one instant. I just remember hugging her and telling her, "Thank you for everything" before I climbed into the Tahoe.
   
       I caught up with Amy for a few minutes, and then I told her where my heart was going right then: I knew that I wanted to set up the Hope Box ministry here in Dallas, and I wanted the hospital we delivered at to be the first hospital with a Hope Box. Later, Amy told me the contact person (who I had already met through the grief group that meets at that hospital) to get this setup. My next mission: get more Hope Boxes ready.

Being Challenged

2.13.14

    Over the last couple months, God has been growing me. I know it may come as a shocker, but I don't have everything figured out.

     In January, I had decided to go through Beth Moore's Whispers of Hope book, and the result has been... challenging. One of the things that has stuck with me the most is this idea that we can be swayed in our thinking of God by only looking at what He does instead of who He is. Let that sink in for a minute.
     God didn't choose to save Kaitlyn, but that doesn't change His character. At the Hope Mommies retreat, Erin told us during one of the sessions that God is the same God that He was the day before our babies died, and the day that our babies died, and the day after our babies died. He never changes in His character and He never wavers in His love.
     I think that's where a lot of people get stuck. We tend to picture God by what He does or doesn't do rather than who He truly is. Its almost like if you have a friend that is a nurse: you can look at them and say, "I know what you do. You care about people, you help the sick, you might get thrown-up or pooped on, you reach out to families when they're hurting." But to look at every nurse and say, "I know you by your work" would be insulting and untrue. Spending genuine time with God is the only way to know Him, and by the grace of the Holy Spirit we have the opportunity to do that.

      Another thing I've learned is about how I pray. I use to just pray the things I'm thankful for and the things I think I need. I got in a routine and I never really broke out of it. When I went to dinner with my mom's cousin, Tina, she prayed before the meal and she said, "Forgive us for our sins." What? I've never prayed that with the exception of when I became a Christian at the ripe young age of 8 years old. Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that the initial prayer was really all God needed to hear. He didn't need to hear about the million little ways I stumble daily. He didn't need to be bothered with all that detail.
      But what God showed me over the week after dinner with Tina is that He does care about the details, and that He appreciates it when we call out to Him our shortcomings.
       Just to give you an illustration, because I believe that's how God teaches me most of the time: its like if someone gave you $100. Just gave it to you, no strings attached. A gift. In a month, if they came back to you and asked out of curiosity, "What did you buy with the money I gave you?" there would typically be two responses. The person that didn't keep track of their purchases might say, "Oh.. um.. I bought some lunches, and some books... And I might have had some Starbucks in there..." While another person who was more aware of that $100 in their wallet and where it came from might say, "I bought this particular book that I"m halfway through reading and have really enjoyed, I bought lunch on Wednesday at this restaurant, and I bought Starbucks for my friend and I, she had a skinny mocha." If you were the giver of the $100, which of the two people would make you feel like your gift meant more? My vote would be on the second one.
       So I've changed the way I pray. I pray specifically what I've sinned, because I want God to feel like the giver and I am the appreciative recipient. I want Him to know that the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross so that I could be bought with a price means something to me. I want Him to know that the purchase saved me from all of these little sins, not just the big ones. I want Him to know that I am still using that gift daily, and its not sitting idly in the corner (as if that were an option. We're all broken and sin daily, we just decide whether to acknowledge it or not).

Jenny's Text

2.12.14

     Wednesday morning, I get this from Jenny:

Mmhm.

Hope Boxes at Hope Fellowship

2.12.14

    I was so excited to get to start the next Wednesday night Bible study with my ladies at Hope Fellowship. The study they decided on this spring is called the "Unglued" study by Lysa TerKeurst, and its all about conflict resolution and dealing with raw emotions.
    At the beginning of the study, our leader, Jen, got up and welcomed everyone to the group. Something hit me: I should ask if we could host a Hope Box Gathering with this group of ladies. The ladies at my table were so support of us during those first two weeks that I knew they'd be up for it, but I wanted to extend the invitation to all the ladies in the group.
    After the initial session, I went to Jen and talked to her about the possibility of the Hope Box Gathering being our outreach for the semester. Every study that I'd done with Hope we've had some kind of outreach, sometimes writing supportive letters to women who were going to safe houses, other times raising funds for certain charities, so why not put it forward that Hope Boxes are needed here in Dallas for our sisters? Her response was an overwhelming, "YES." Not a hesitant, "We'll see," but a resounding, "Yes. Let's do it."
     The next week, I stood up at the end of class and shared our story. I shared about my brokenness, and about how Hope Mommies had been such a blessing to me in my darkest hour. I shared about taking Jerra her box, and what she wrote on the page about the Bible speaking to her soul so deeply. I shared about the retreat, and how much it meant to be in the same room with women who had been through what I'm going through.
     Again, the overwhelming response was, "Yes. Yes, we will commit to doing a Hope Box Gathering. Yes, we will sacrifice our time and money to grow this ministry. Yes, we want to reach out to our sisters that have lost their children." It was amazing.
     Stephanie, one of the ladies from my small group, got up and prayed over us before we left to go our separate ways. I love Stephanie, because she had offered to come play filter when I went back to work because I was so nervous about what people would try to say to help and it wouldn't be appropriate. She prayed for this ministry to take off, she prayed that the city of Dallas would feel God's love. She prayed thanksgiving over my heart for this ministry (I mean, I had gotten so much from it and I just wanted/needed to give back), and she prayed that the women who would receive these boxes would feel God's love through them.
   

Hope Box Delivery

2.11.14

    At the retreat, one of the girls had asked if I would mind dropping off a box to a friend of a friend here in Dallas that had requested a box be sent to her. I told her I didn't mind at all since it would save the organization the cost of the box.
    I ended up taking two extra boxes: one for a girl that Mallie had also taken pictures for, and one extra just so I had it when Mallie let me know of another Hope Mom. On Tuesday, I had time on my way home from work to take the box by Jerra's house.
    I was nervous. I didn't know what to expect. I mean, I wasn't that far outside of my own loss, and I knew from the get-go that I didn't have the energy to be this mom's person. You know, that person who you call when you're feeling down or look to when you need a pick-me-up. As I sat in the car outside her house, I prayed over the box that it would be something helpful for her, and that she would know that the women who made this box for her loved her and prayed for her as they made the box.
    I knocked on the door softly and Jerra opened the door. She is petite (like everyone is to me) with red hair and freckles on her face.
    "Hi," she whispered as the tears just started rolling down her cheeks.
    "Hi sweetie," I replied as I offered her a hug.
     We stood there and hugged for a good 5 minutes as she cried. She hugged me and just sobbed into my shoulder. She had lost her son, Ian, maybe about 5 weeks prior, and everything was still so fresh. She hadn't been as far along as we were with Kaitlyn, but that pain is still insufferable.
     "Its so different to hug someone who knows what this feels like," she said as she finally pulled away. "I'm sorry for bawling on you."
      "Don't even worry about it, sometimes that is the only thing you can do," I reassured her. We sat on her couch and talked for about 30 minutes as she opened the box and went through the top layer of contents. I shared with her Kaitlyn's story, and I listened to Ian's. We talked about Mallie and how amazing she is. Then, I decided it was time for me to go.
 
      Later that week, Jerra posted on the Hope Mommies website:

Gina (mom who made the box at the retreat), I received a beautiful

hope box made by you from Amy the other day. I can't think you both enough.

 I can tell that so much love was poured into it as well as time, energy and money for all those

supplies/resources. I've been going through it and my husband and I started the hope devotional

tonight together. I know it will give us a renewed spirit. I love everything inside, but my favorite is the red leather Bible. I thought it was going to be another journal at first when I went to pick it up and was thinking, "Oh hubby might like this one". Then I realized it was a Bible and I can't e ven explain what a sign that was to me. Red is Ian's color. He's a January baby so the garnet is his birthstone and red roses are what our pastor brought to the hospital and we took a picture with a red rose in Ian's hands. I instantly began weeping (total ugly cry) and clutched it close to me. I believe it was a sign that Ian is with God and that he is ok. Danny and I have agreed to have Ian's name embossed on the Bible. Anyway, I just thank you both so much and this whole organization. What you do and what you stand for is a beautiful thing and I hope I can become involved and help others the way y'all have me. God bless!

      I was blown away. I thought the box would just be a little comfort to a fellow Hope mom, but God used it (and me!) in such a powerful and outspoken way. I loved it, and I felt like I wanted to repeat that over and over and over again...

Beth Moore and Isaac

2.9.14

     Since early January, I have been leading a little facebook group through Beth Moore's study called "Whispers of Hope." For those of you who know Beth Moore, this is not one of her regular studies with a good hours worth of homework per day, this study is really focused on being diligent in your prayers and how to pray. Its pretty awesome.
      Sunday afternoon when I got home, I realized that I didn't do any of the days that I was suppose to while I was at retreat. Kind of a good thing/bad thing because I was able to focus 100% on the retreat and gleam from that experience what I was suppose to. Bad thing because I was behind, but that was relative because the two girls who had been working the study with me were also behind. So it all came out even anyways.

      As I opened the book that over the last 4 weeks I had written prayers in, I was welcomed by a poem written by Beth herself about Abraham and Isaac.
      For those of you who don't know the story: God had promise Abraham that he would make him the father of the chosen people- the Jews, and that he would be multiplied through Sarah, his wife. They were old in age, and Abraham and Sarah had grown desperate in waiting for their child. Isaac was born when they were in their 90s or 100s (I think, I'm not a Bible scholar here, people), and from Isaac was born Jacob and later the whole tribe of Isreal. Anyways, the story is that God told Abraham to sacrifice Isaac on a mountain top, and as the two of them headed up to make a sacrifice Isaac figures out something is awry. He asks his Dad where the sacrificial lamb is, and Abraham (prophetically) says to Isaac, "God will provide the lamb." It is only when Abraham's faith is truly tested and he is about to slay his only son that God stops him and then presents Abraham with a ram to sacrifice instead of Isaac. So there's your quick Biblical backdrop to this poem:

Trust Me with Your Isaac

By Beth Moore

For every Abraham who dares

to kiss the foreign field

where glory for a moment grasped

is for a lifetime tilled...

The voice of God 

speaks not but once

but 'till the traveler hears

"Abraham! Abraham! Bring your

 Isaac here!"

"Bring not the blemeshed sacrifice,

What lovest thou the most?

Look not into the distance,

you'll find your Isaac close."

"I hear the tearing of your heart

torn between two loves,

the one your vision can behold

the Other hid above."

"Do you trust me, Abraham

with your gravest fear?

Will you pry your fingers loos

and bring your Isaac here?"

"Have I not made you promises?

Hold them tight instead! 

I am the Lover over your soul-

the Lifter of your head."

"Believe me, O my Abraham

when blinded by the cost. 

Arrange the wooded altar

and count your gains but loss."

"Let tears wash clean your blinded eyes

until unveiled you see-

the ram caught in the thicket there

to set your Isaac free."

"Perhaps I'll send him down the mount

to walk right by your side.

No longer in your iron grasp

but safer still in mine."

"Or I may wrap him in the wind

and sweet him from your sight

to better things beyond your reach-

believe with all your might!"

"Look up, beloved Abraham,

can you count the stars?

Multitudes will stand to reap

from one dear friend of God."

"Pass the test, my faithful one;

bow to me as Lord

Trust me with your Isaac-

see,

I am your great Reward."

      I cried over that poem, as I'm fairly sure anyone who reads it and understands it does. I've told you before that I have a friend who has turned completely away from the faith after Kaitlyn passed, saying to me, "God would never do that to good people like you and Alex." Firstly, neither Alex or myself are good. We are broken. We are damaged. We are lost. But because of our relationship with God through Christ, we are restored, put back together, and found. We live today because of the grace of God, not because we are careful when crossing the street. 

      My friend went on to ask me once if God had asked me if I would have given up Kaitlyn willingly, if I would have been like Abraham and taken my daughter to the sacrificial altar. 

      I can say that I wouldn't. I would not have had the faith like Abraham. I am childish in my faith still, and I wouldn't be able to see past the end of the sacrifice. But God didn't ask me if I would sacrifice Kaitlyn. He gave me a different test: Would I sacrifice my pride and my questions? Would I sacrifice my need to know why? Would I lay down those questions and offer them up to God, not needing the answer today? Would I pass the test He laid before me, or would I stumble like my friend and turn my back on God who creates life in the first place?

      Would I willingly give back to Him the things that He has given to me? Its a question that I struggle with daily. There are days that are hard, just plain hard. I lose myself in sorrow and missing Kaitlyn, and I find myself crying over the dumbest things. 

      But those days are getting fewer. I have been blessed to see God's hand in our lives, to see His divine grace in our story, and to trust His promise for restoration. You see, God never intended for Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, but He needed to know Abraham's heart. He tested Abraham with the most important thing in his life. 

But at the end, when the test was through, God remained faithful.

Leaving my tea cup

2.9.14

     After the balloon release, we were free to go. A few of us loitered around for a little while, but eventually we needed to get on the road. The retreat was about 3 hours away from where we live, plus I missed Alex and was excited to hear all about his weekend and tell him about mine.
      I was about 15 minutes away when I stopped and thought, "When did I last see my tea cup?" You better believe I pulled over in the middle of hill country in somebody's dirt driveway and started digging through all of my things. I couldn't find it anywhere. I remembered having it that morning and drinking coffee out of it, but after that I didn't remember packing it or putting it anywhere special.
      I turned around. After all, it was the invite of the old cups that had made me sure that I would go to the retreat at all.
      I arrived as all the leaders were still packing up their cars with all the stuff that had decorated the main house and Prayer room for the past few days. I half walked/ran into the main room and looked around for my cup.
      "Hey Ames," said Sarah when she saw I was back. "What's up?"
      "I forgot my tea cup... and I don't see it here. I remember I double-checked the room, so I thought it had to be here, but I guess somebody else may have picked it up. Do you have any extra ones?" I had to ask. You see, at the very beginning of retreat they had told us that a bunch of the cups were broken in their flight down from Chattanooga, Tennessee, where Kellye lives.
       "There's a couple that were extra over on that table," she pointed to the check-in table. "Go pick one out!"
       "Are you sure those weren't accidentally left? I don't want to pick one up if somebody does what I just did and realizes it after about 15 minutes..." I said.
       She reassured me they were just extras, but I couldn't find one as awesome as the one I had loved on all weekend. So instead, I settled for this one:

Doesn't even have any pink on it.

         I realized later that I didn't even take a picture of my cute coral rimmed mug, so instead it'll just have to live on in my memory. 

Last Session and Balloon Release

2.9.14
 
     Anytime Erin got up to teach, I felt like the Holy Spirit was tangibly present in the room. But it was on that last day that something really cool happened.
     We had all sat down to eat breakfast and Erin sat next to me again.
     "Are you absolutely exhausted?" I asked her. Anytime I share Kaitlyn's story, I feel emotionally drained when I get done. I feel like I could go nap for a day or two just to recover.
     "Yeah, but it's a good exhausted," she replied.
     When she got up to teach that morning, she continued on that theme.
     "I hope you guys feel like this weekend has been worth it," she started. "But I don't feel like I have the energy to say anything else. So we're just going to spend some time in the word this morning as we close out."
      She invited us to open our Bibles to John 16:4. She read through Jesus' words predicting that He would leave and go make ready the Kingdom of Heaven. It was when she reached verse 12 that she paused.
      "'I have much more to say to you, but you can't handle it now.'" she read, and then stopped, using her thumb to trace over the words she had just read into the microphone. "Oh," she said softly. "Oh," she repeated. After her confession of being out of words at the beginning of the session, she paused because The Word had given her words when she was out of them.
       "He has so much more to tell us," she said, finally looking up at the crowd of faces watching her moment. "He has so much more to tell you Amy, and Jennifer, and Jessica..." she faded off as she looked at each of us in the face. "But we have to be patient and wait for Him to speak. We have to wait and persevere to get those words from God; to hear what He has to say to us in the perfect time." She said those words as she looked around the room, with such passion and conviction that it moved me. I immediately grabbed my notebook to jot down the verse, and know for the rest of my life that memory of her pausing as she read it and breathing out her spirit response of "oh" will stay with me.

        After we finished the session, the leaders took us to the Prayer room where there were three bunches of balloons: pink, blue, and yellow. We were invited to write our baby's names on them for the balloon release from out on a big field on the camp grounds. I busied myself making Kaitlyn's balloon, but soon realized that there were going to be a few extra. I grabbed a few of them and wrote the names of the babies that Mallie had taken pictures for since she had taken pictures of Kaitlyn. There were four balloons total, but since I didn't clear it with the mommas I won't post all of them here. This is what Kailtyn's balloon looked like:

I'm not extremely creative. Some of the other

girls wrote whole letters to their babies.

     

Elyse and me before the balloon launch.

Lovely Kellye and me 

Sandra McCracken and me- She was awesome and 

we actually have a friend in common!

Me and the Erin, Founder of Hope Mommies

The Hope Box Gathering

2.8.14

     Saturday evening, we got to participate in a Hope Box gathering. Each Mom got a photo box and scrap paper and proceeded to decorate a box in memory of their baby.

The top of Kaitlyn's hope box

Look Familiar? The paper pattern I picked out

was very similar to the pattern on Kaitlyn's memory

box that I put some of her nursery things in.

 

The table of finished Hope Boxes.

       We were also asked to write a note to the mom who would be receiving our box. That was hard. It was hard to let myself go back to that place and remember what would have been helpful for me to hear from another Hope Mom. That moment at the hospital is just so... raw. All of your emotions are right there and there is no right thing for anyone to say. 

   My note for Kaitlyn's hope box.

The Retreat Part II

2.8.14

    Saturday was filled with a few "sessions" where Erin would teach from The Word and we would sing praise songs together. Sandra McCracken and L.E. Taylor were our two worship leaders, and it was pretty awesome to get to hear their stories as they lead us in singing.
    We had the option of joining a few small groups about various topics, and I went to the one about marriage because I wanted to be aware of the struggles that losing a child puts on a couple. Alex has grieved Kaitlyn very differently than I have, just as any man would. So to talk to other moms about this difficulty helped me tremendously.
     After the small groups, they did a panel-like discussion where we could submit questions. My favorite part of the afternoon was when Sarah took a question regarding sex after loss.
     "Ladies, I'm just going to say it: you're always a wife first, and a mom second," she said, looking around the room at each of our faces. "You have to remember that sex is from God, and that it can be one of the most healing things for your marriage right now."

      That afternoon, we had a couple hour break. Some of the girls decided to break off and go take naps or explore the camp grounds, but I wanted to head to the prayer room. The leaders had made these cute little mason jars with our baby's name and our names on them and had left out scrap paper for us to write encouragements to others in there.

Here's my mason jar

      I spent half of the time in the afternoon writing notes to other girls that I had met, like Elyse, but then miss Kellye came in the Prayer room to see what's up.

      "Hey Kellye, do you know if the leaders have a jar somewhere?" I asked her when she came in.

      "Hmmmm No I don't think they do, but that's a great idea! Let me whip some up real quick," she replied, oblivious to the fact that any kind of creativity like what is above would have taken a normal person hours to complete but she could do it in about 15 minutes. She curled up with her glue gun and extra mason jars on the far end of the room.

       "This music is awesome, did you put it on?" she asked me.

       "Yeah, I did. It was to quiet in here." I answered her. "Hang on, I totally have to share this song with you, its helped me so much and its from this local artist Amber Rhoads." 

      I played for Kellye a song that has been so incredibly special and healing to me. I first heard Amber sing at a conference at our home church last July. Jenny and I had gone to hear the Christian comedian Anita Renfroe, and Amber was the guest singer. I immediately downloaded her album. The first three songs are really peppy and fun, and I use to sing them to Kaitlyn on our way to work or wherever. The last three songs, however, had much more spiritual meat to them, and I finally listened to the title song, "Broken Beautiful."

Broken Beautiful Written by Amber Rhoads & Mia Fieldes Verse 1: Hello God. Are You there? Can You hear my prayer? Cause I’m waiting. Hello God. Are You here? Can You see my tears while I’m waiting? Channel: There’s a lot I’ve had to lay down and I’m weary. There’s a lot that hasn’t worked out. But somehow … Chorus: I’ll trade my sorrow for a joy that’s full. My disappointment for something so good. Lay down my doubting and all the hurt I hold. You make broken beautiful. Verse 2: So God, here I am and I trust Your plan though I’m waiting. Oh God, even if I never feel You here, I’ll keep waiting. Channel: There’s a lot I don’t understand, but I know You meet me right where I am and so now …

Chorus: I’ll trade my sorrow for a joy that’s full. My disappointment for something so good. Lay down my doubting and all the hurt I hold. You make broken beautiful. Bridge All the pieces, all the seasons, You will all redeem. It’s the reason I believe. © 2013 by Amber Rhoads & Mia Fieldes | Gateway Create Publishing/BMI | 2012 SHOUT! Music Publishing APRA (admin. by Integrity Music via EMICMGPublishing.com) CCLI # 6540858

This is by far one of my favorite songs for our season of waiting. I use to sing it with tears running down my face when I felt like I needed that release of crying.

In the prayer room with Kellye was no exception. I sat and cried as I softly sang along with the lyrics that had written themselves on my heart. Obviously, Kellye loved the song and told me how awesome it was that I shared something so precious with her.

Gotta love Kellye.

The Prayer Room

2.8.14

    At this retreat, we had several rooms that were reserved for us. It was a very "campy" experience, meaning that there were cabins of four rooms that each housed four Hope Moms, and we would have to walk up to the main building where our sessions would be held. There was also one special room in the main building that had been reserved as our Prayer room, and at the end of telling our stories, we were invited to take some time to go explore the Prayer room.
    Creative Kellye had several of her friends come over and paint canvases for the Prayer room, and I snapped some pictures of some of my favorites:

Did you hear the song, "He makes beautiful things?"

Oceans

    The ladies who made these canvases are super talented. They took the time to love us through their creative juices. You bet Kellye was behind all this.

     In the center of the room, they had taken stones and written all of the names of our babies and their dates of birth on them. 

Our stone is about 3 inches by 2 inches by 1 inch. 

  

    Even now, its weird to see her birthday. It feels surreal. It feels like it was eons ago, and yet yesterday. Kate use to like to say, "There's been a lot of life happen in these few short months." That's why it feels like forever ago and today all at the same time. 

    I miss her every day.

    As I was wandering around the room looking at all the decorations, Carla came up to me and asked to hear our story. She had snuck into our group late, so she didn't hear my story but I think she caught everyone else's. 

    This was the fourth time I had told our story, and the other three times I didn't cry. I could tell the story like I was stating a fact like the sky is blue. But for some reason, the fourth time, in the dimmed lights of the prayer room, I could barely get it out. I started crying immediately, and looked for some kind of solace in the rock that had her name written in cursive. Carla patted on me and told me that it was okay to cry. Its just funny- the other times I didn't need to cry. I didn't feel the sorrow welling up in my chest and my eyes stinging as I let the words pour out from my soul. But this time, I did. I needed to let that sorrow out. 

    So I sat and cried and told the story of Kaitlyn Sophia. I let the story consume me, in the safeness of the Prayer room, surrounded by things that had been made to show us God's love for us.