RIP Julie

Julie Beth Little, as we once knew her, left this world on June 17, 2014.

Due to an unforeseen illness, a beast of a cancer, her life was taken away as she watched her baby girl slowly fade. 

Once the life of the party, she now dreads social events and really has to pull all her energy out to endure them. She often would feel comfortable talking to people in large crowds, but no longer. Instead, her appeal to social situations in large crowds has left her. She enjoys the quiet, one on one situations of truly getting to know one's soul. It's all she can handle. To focus in on one person and see who they are and where they are at. 

Before, she was blind to the world of pain around her. Oblivious to others suffering, she happily lived in her bubble of  security, assurance, and routine. But now, she no longer is blind. Death has brought to her light. And she can not look away. 

Never one to cry in public, she no longer is who she was. Gone are the days of holding it together. Now, tears freely fall and she doesn't care who sees them. 

Julie was notorious for enjoying the moment and living in the now. She loved to fully enjoy the happiness of it all. No longer. Forever will sorrow be intermingled with happiness. Now, she knows what true joy was, and what it could be again. With that sorrow comes a gift of hope and appreciation. 

Previously, she did not know what true living was. Not until she died, did she understand life. For in death, she sees that life is about Him. Hope, love and mercy are the foundations of all things. 

So even though we mourn the death of Julie, she is in a better place. She knows that even though there is suffering, healing is around the corner. Even though there seems to be hopelessness, it's never forever lost. And even though everything is mingled with pain, there will be one day a time with no more pain. 

Heavenly minded

The conversations around our house have drastically changed since Molly went to heaven.

"What is heaven like? What are they doing in heaven? Do you think there are cockroaches in heaven?"

Never before was my mind so heavenly minded. Singing hymns about heaven and hearing the trumpet blow immediately send tears down my cheeks. I was never like this before. Of course, I felt emotion when singing, but now, it's so much more real to me. 

It extends so much further than this, however. It has spread to my entire family, including the girls. They constantly talk about heaven. How they can not wait to see all that Molly is enjoying. How they wish to be there now with her. 

Clara constantly wants to send things to Molly. From artwork, to pancakes, she is always on her mind. 

What a blessed gift we have received from our Lord. Not only the hope of heaven, but the constant placement of heaven in our hearts.  I of course long to run into the arms of my Savior and bask in His love and grace for eternity, but I would be lying if I didn't say that these days, I am just as excited to run up to Molly and give her a hug. 

When we look back at all she endured and the suffering that she had to go through, I feel somewhat guilty that she had to face that so that I could freely enjoy these amazing lessons. But I remind myself that God has a plan for every soul and I can imagine Molly telling me that she was so happy to serve Jesus however He decided.

So as I go about my day, my head may be in the clouds, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad place to be. 

I wish...

I wish…

…you could have seen today with us. The sun was shining and perfect. The clouds were white and fluffy, just how you like them.

I wish…

… you could have come down the stairs like you always do, excited to see how we decorated for your special day. Bouncy. Hoppy. Giggling. Messy haired.

I wish…

… I could have watched you open your birthday presents with the same twinkle in your eye and gratitude you always possessed.

I wish…

… we could sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you just how you liked it, including smelly monkeys, silly faces, and cha cha chas.

I wish…

… I could hug you, even for a moment, and tell you what an amazing person you are.  If only I could share with you the countless lives you changed because of your strong spirit, determination, toughness, and sweet smile that all who have ever met you immediately fell in love with.

But I know…

… that you are happy.

I know…

… you are where you are supposed to be.

I know…

… that you are somehow involved  with the biggest, beastest, animals in heaven. And you are tenderly taking care of the smallest ones as well.

I know…

… that you always loved us and that is forever sealed.

I know…

…that no amount of time and no number of birthdays that pass will ever, EVER diminish, change, or lessen what you are to me. Because how can anyone forget a piece of their heart?

I wish you a happy “forever six” birthday in heaven. And I know that one day, we will celebrate for an eternity. 

Don't go to Egypt!

Being a military family offers for many adventures, sometimes fun, sometimes not so much fun. I am incredibly thankful for the opportunities Peter's career has supplied our family. I mean, Peter and I were on a 4 year honeymoon in Europe when we got first married! How many people can really say that?! (OK, it wasn't all really honeymoon. The first few years are actually the hardest, but you get my point.)

Recently, Peter was presented with an opportunity to have our family move to Cairo, Egypt. Yes. You read that right. Cairo. Land of the Pharaohs. Home of the pyramids. Long story short, we decided not to go for it. We had a number of reasons, but they are not important. I am getting to that part. 

So here I am, a couple weeks later, reading in Genesis about Abraham. Good ol' Abraham. Following after God. Trusting Him to get him to the promise land. And then famine hits. 

In Genesis 12:10-12, it goes through the story of how Abraham, neglecting to trust God for the basic necessities of life, veered off course and headed to Egypt where he was sure there would be food. 

Throughout God's Word, you can see, that for the Christian, Egypt is a picture of the world. 

"Woe to them that go down to Egypt for help; and stay on horses, and trust in chariots, because they are many; and in horsemen, because they are very strong; but they look not unto the Holy One of Israel, neither seek the Lord!" ~Isa. 31:1

This of course got me thinking back to our predicament from weeks earlier. Are we putting our trust in God? Where He desires us to be, are we willing to go? Where he desires us NOT to be, are willing to listen and trust? 

I can say, for this particular case, we did seek God's will in deciding. But how often have I been so desperate for help that I put my trust in something other than the Lord? I could write book upon book of all the mistakes that could have been avoided if I had only gone to the One that had the real answers. 

"For the Lord giveth wisdom: out of his mouth cometh knowledge and understanding." ~Prov. 2:6

In a world FULL of what-ifs, trials, and uncertainty, it is so easy to run to Egypt for my answers. Stressed out with the kids? Zone out on Facebook for ten minutes. That will fix it. Had a fight with the husband? Call your girlfriend to get some sympathy about what a loser he is. Don't know how to handle that conflict with a friend? No worries. Chocolate has got you covered. 

I'm not saying these things are always bad. This year Facebook has been a huge source of encouragement and ministry to me. And I can't tell you how many times a friend has brought me back to my sanity and corrected me, gently mind you, in my error with my husband. And there is scientific proof people, that chocolate is good for you!

My point is, where is my trust truly lying? Proverbs says to trust in the Lord with all my heart. But when I give pieces of my heart to other things, during times of stress, I'm no where near where I am supposed to be. 

Thankfully, as always, we have an awesome long-suffering God who is just waiting for us to learn a new lesson... or revisit said lesson until we finally get it. 

I desire to put my trust in the One who is trustworthy, and not into Egypt. Because, as the story of Abraham shows (read the ten verses!) Egypt has nothing but trouble for you and you'll just end up back where you started. :)

Memories

Perhaps the most difficult of all endeavors in the grieving world is the idea of memories. 

You love them, yet you hate them. You cherish them, yet wish to not remember. You begin to create new ones, but only while looking back. 

Everything in life has a little bit of a bitter taste to it. 

Times that are fun and happy have a twinge of guilt and sadness intertwined with them. Because even though you enjoy the moment, you can't help but think, "I wish they were here."

The days are getting a little easier. Falling into a puddle of mush only happens a few times a week now. We have began school and are developing a routine which is key for everyone's mental health. But mixed in are these intense moments of memories. 

Memories of old that make you wish you could step back in time. Memories of new that you wish you could pause, grab a hold of that piece of your heart that is missing, and incorporate them into the fun. 

Being a military family, we know that a move is inevitable. Change happens all the time in everyone's life. But how can I bear the thought of moving on and making new memories, in new places, that Molly has never been? I can't stand the thought. I'm not ready. 

Today memories, new and old, sweep over me like a bitter cold. I don't like them. They serve no purpose but to bring pain. But I know that is just for right now. I know tomorrow will be better. 

Iceberg

When Peter and I were stationed in Germany, there were a number of times that we were able to visit the Alps. In fact, my favorite story to tell was the particular visit we had where for the small sum of  about  $6.50, we could take a carriage ride up the mountain. How romantic! Did I mention I was 7 months pregnant and the size of a small beached whale? (I'm being kind here.) But my dear,sweet husband opted for the "more scenic" approach of walking up the mountain... with his 7 month pregnant wife... up the mountain... with his PREGNANT WIFE. You get the picture. But I'm not bitter. Moving on...

The Alps were breathtaking. Truly a remarkable creation of our Lord. I felt as if I had stepped into the sound of music and envisioning that I was Maria, I wanted to sing from the peaks, swinging my arms around and around. 

I read recently that grief is like a mountain turned upside down. The higher your love abides, the lower your depths of sorrow. 

My love for Molly was like the Himalayas. You could not see it's end. It just kept rising. It was vast and enormous. Powerful and overwhelming. She was my child and I felt like I had no end to my love for her. And I still don't.  

Now the mountain is turned upside down. 

Like an iceberg, you only see the cap of my pain. But underneath the waters, there is a massive enormity that really knows no end.

Where does it stop? What is it's depth? 

The only answer we know is to the question, where is it? It is here. And it is staying.

Some days we feel like we have just scratched the surface. Then others, something hits and we see into the water. The mass underneath is terrifying to say the least. 

I miss the mountain. I know that my love for Molly is still as tall and grand. My affections for her will never shrink or diminish. But right now, we are like the Titanic. Just crashing into this iceberg of grief and at times, drowning in it. 

But...

"In my distress I called upon the LORD, and cried unto my God: he heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, even into his ears." ~ Ps. 18:6"

"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." ~Ps. 121:1

The love of God, which is the largest of scale mountains, will be my help. His love is so high and so deep I still can't understand it. I can't grasp the immensity of  love He has for me. And it's because of that I will not drown next to this iceberg of grief. 

The waters are deep and the ends are not seen, but neither are the heights of the mountains. I pray we keep our eyes up. 

Silence

Psalm 13:1-3~ " How long wilt thou forget me, O LORD? forever? how long wilt though hide thy face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily?...Consider and hear me, O LORD my God: lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death."

Silence can be deafening. Silence can almost seem louder than a multitude of noises around you. For it's in the silence that you have to actually hear. Hear what? Hear pain. Hear hurt. Hear loneliness. Hear loss. 

I've been feeling this silence from God for weeks now. I read daily, seeking what He has for me. A desperate scramble, almost, to find a nugget to get me through the day. I pray, I talk to God and pour out my heart. I tell Him how much this ache keeps getting worse when I though it would get better. I tell Him that I only wish to have Molly back for a moment. To hug her. To tell her how much I love her and how incredibly proud I am of the person she is. To whisper to her in her in ear all the little things I love about her and know I will never find in another person again. 

My response from God has been silence. 

What I have to hold on to is past conversations with Him. Past promises He has given. Past strengths He has granted to carry me through. 

I know that I have not been abandoned for His Word says He will NEVER leave me or forsake me. 

So where is He? Why isn't He speaking? 

I don't have an answer. 

I do know that in times past, when I decided to be silent and just listen, God has revealed something amazing to me. Perhaps I am on the brink of something incredible. Perhaps the Mighty Creator, who graciously loves me and has carried this far, is not done with me and wants to share more. 

It's just that the silence is so painful. It's so hard. And I just don't like it. 

But I suppose nothing worth waiting for is really that easy. So I will keep going. Keep listening. Waiting quietly for that still small voice.