It sometimes feels "as if" I'm dragging my mind and body through quick sand.
Writing that sentence releases tears.
2013 was a hard year.
So was 2014, 2015, and 2016.
I haven't written about many things because they are still too close to my heart.
I don't know why, but emotional processing seems to take me forever.
I go numb.
And silent, as well.
I am working again, which is good. And, in another area of passion - Education.
Lord, please don't let me miss life in the midst of grief.
My son gives me such joy. He's the sweetest, funniest boy on Earth.
I tell myself I should write down the deeply profound lessons he teaches me,
in his most unique and amazing way.
It would bless many others, if I could just awaken myself enough to share.
In the Bible, when David felt discouraged, he would encourage himself
by recounting the many miracles God performed on his behalf.
Even though David messed up royally, God called him
"...a man after My own heart."
Thank you, Jesus, for the GIFT of salvation.
Lord, teach us to love. Like you love.
Thank you for your mercies...new every morning.
You sustain us through the wilderness of grief and loneliness,
and our frail humanity.
Great is Your Faithfulness.
Finally, I'm revisiting this blog, started ten years ago in 2007.
Through the years, as I grappled with being adopted and reunited with my family,
experiencing tremendous joys and devastating losses;
the care-taking of older parents,
and finally becoming a Mother myself;
buried emotions have sometimes poured out faster than my fingers could type.
But since I find myself currently dealing with somewhat of a writer's block,
I thought I'd just share a few archived pictures I recently came across.
Here's my one pound miracle boy,
twelve years ago.
Just for perspective.
For several years I couldn't bring myself to
look at this picture because of the emotions it triggered.
It took me right back to the NICU and those first 98 unimaginable days
we somehow survived.
The day after his birth, as he struggled to live, this new Mother was desperate to find comfort as I sat in my hospital bed with empty arms and womb.
The open Bible on my lap became my life-line.
On his third day of life, my son underwent heart surgery, and that morning my Bible fell open to this amazing verse, which I had never read before.
"I will comfort you like a Mother comforts her child..." Isaiah 66:13
Knowing God Himself would comfort my son (and me) when my arms could not,
brought relief to my grieving heart.
The day I finally got to hold him was Heaven.
Now, many years later, my son is starting his own journal. And here is his very first entry....
"I was born early, but God helped me."
Lord, please help us all keep living and writing our parts.
We can do nothing without You.
"NOW faith is"
During the time I was believing God to break fear off my life
and give me the courage to have children, I was reading the newspaper one day
and saw the cutest picture of a baby crawling away from the camera.
On the back of his diaper was a $100 bill with a picture of Benjamin Franklin.
(My last name).
Suddenly, I felt my spirit leap with excitement.
Although my soul felt weak and unable to believe,
my spirit had been feeding on God's promises,
which bring faith (belief, even before we see).
I got my scissors and carefully cut out that picture.
All the while, my finite mind screaming, "YOU FOOL!"
"How could YOU ever have a child...you are not worthy, you fearful weakling."
Even while my emotions were being bombarded with doubt,
I tearfully forced my hand to hang the picture on my refrigerator,
where I would be reminded daily
of this seemingly impossible desire of my heart.
Is anything too hard for God?
Just like Abraham, against all hope, believed in hope....I believe that
very simple, yet emotional step of faith helped bring me my beautiful son.
Every minute since has also been a walk of faith and grace,
depending literally minute by minute upon God's mercy and miracles.
Thank you, Father God, for loving us and never leaving us.
Help us always feed upon your Word, for You truly are the Bread of Life.