12.14.12--Sandy Hook

I woke up this morning to a very quiet house all on my own accord. Jace spent the night with his grandparents so I'm sitting in his empty room. Grieving for all the people who are sitting in empty rooms right now, surrounded by fresh signs of an innocent child, who won't be picked up from grandma's today. Who will never come home again.

As news flooded in yesterday morning of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting, I watched as evil stole from all of us.

Helpless. Restless. Desperate. Agony. Grief. Questions. Tears.

I held Jace in my arms and thanked the Lord for him. I danced with him while tears stained my face and laughs left his innocent breath. I gave him one too many cookies. I hugged him way too tight and kissed him til my lips hurt.

I ached in my stomach. In my body. Time passed when the oxygen escaped me and took a few moments to come back.

I thought of Santa pictures that were never taken, or are the last picture ever taken. I thought of Christmas presents that will sit unwrapped  forever . That will gain dust as their friends graduate, get married, have kids of their own. I thought of moms and dads.Grandmas and Grandpas. Aunts and Uncles. The relief in hearing your child was waiting for you to pick them up. The violent ripping of your soul into pieces as you hear your child won't be going home with you today. I thought of these little babies. Who were learning to color in between lines. Read Cat in the Hat. Play freeze tag. Warm little tiny, bodies. Tiny hands.  Innocent eyes. Living in a world where kisses made owies better. Left to die. Without their mommies to hold them.

I thought of the kids who made it. Who will never be the same. Who had most likely never seen a horror movie in their few years, and yet saw the most horrific human tragedy that could possibly be witnessed. The purity of their hearts tainted with absolute horror.

I thought of the adults who were killed. Who's children are missing a parent this morning. Spouses missing love. Parents missing children.

I'm thinking of a sad world this morning. How in 24 hours we've all changed. Shattered. Wrecked. Gaping holes in the fabric of who we are. Thankful for what's left of all of us.

12.14.12. Jesus. This day broke your heart before it even existed to us. You are a good God who came here to earth as a human and you are crying with us. You are near to those families who are tortured right now. And you will give them peace. You will give them comfort. You will be their daddy. You will hold them even if they are struggling and want to run away from you. You will collect all their holy tears.  You will supply. You will raise up. You will heal. You will bring justice. You will defend. You will fight.  You alone are lion and you are lamb. You are holding all these precious children, whether with you or still with us, safe and protected in your gentle, firm, strong grip. I pray these things in faith. Knowing and Trusting you are Good. Your Good trumps evil and sickness. We know the end. Your Goodness Wins in the End. So, we walk forward. Confident in who you say you are. Waiting for that day, when we actually can see that everything wrong has been made right by you and you alone.

Psalm 29:

⁹ God’s thunder sets the oak trees dancing
A wild dance, whirling; the pelting rain strips their branches.
We fall to our knees—we call out, “Glory!”

¹⁰ Above the floodwaters is God’s throne
    from which his power flows,
    from which he rules the world.

¹¹ God makes his people strong.
God gives his people peace.

Thank you Jesus for these beautiful babies you have given us for another day. 

Keeping Secrets

Psalm 118:24 - "This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."

In one of my church small groups this quarter, we talked about "keeping secrets" from God. I thought this was an absurd concept. How can I keep a secret from God if He knows everything about me--more than I know about myself!?

But then it started to make a little sense to me. I started to see how there are parts of my heart that I would rather not say out loud. That I don't want to share with God in case He sees how happy I am and decides to take it away. Or sees how scared I am of something so makes me face it. I have all these things that are buried like a treasure chest at the bottom of the ocean, filled with glamorous dreams and hopeless fears. Locked tight away for my own safe keeping so that I can protect them. Somewhere in me, I don't believe He will.

As much as I hate to admit it, a part of me believes in 'jinxing' myself. If I say it, then I'll ruin it. It's been a challenge for me to enjoy the enjoyable moments in life because of a paralyzing fear of the unknown future. But, I know that a bigger part of me believes in a God who is good and who is for me and who will defend me and most importantly who loves ME. Yes, this Gospel thing isn't just for everyone else, it's apparently for me, too. And He delights in my joy. He isn't sitting on a cloud somewhere waiting to strike me down. He wants to dance with me. 

I've seen a lot of pain in my life. I had awful friendships early in my school years, making me insecure in many of my relationships for most of my life. I've had friends betray me and abandon me. I've had my heart broken too many times. At the ripe old age of 27, I've seen about 13 friends or acquaintances under the age of 30 die-- ranging from a motorcycle accident on the way home from a bible study to overdosing on drugs. I've experienced the ripping of someone from your life with no going back. During my pregnancy, though much worse things could have happened, I agonized over the thought that my baby wasn't whole. That he was missing an organ that every other baby seemed to have. That this would be his life. It wrecked me. I've seen families ruined. I've seen friends experience outrageous emotional wounds. I've seen powerful people misuse that power.  I've chosen to see the world through pessimistic eyes most of my life.

So it scares me when life is wonderful. When my husband is my best friend and we get to live in the same house together and raise the same amazing baby together. When that amazing baby fills my heart with so much joy I don't know what to do with all the overflow and just want to drench it on everyone I see. When those cries of losing friends or being abandoned by them are answered with new, amazing friendships that make me feel secure and puts fun and wholeness and relationship back into my life. When the house that took a miracle to be ours isn't taken for granted and I remember how blessed I am to have it. When the Christmas Tree is up and the lights are twinkling and the smells of holidays linger. When we prepare to host parties this season as it fills with family and friends, just what this house was made for.

I feel like I'm in a period of fulfillment right now. Like I'm sitting in a moment of answered prayers and joy. And yet, I've been afraid if I claim it, it will all be taken away. So it's best I bury my joy in a cave. And keep it as a secret of my own.

Today I don't feel like taking the time to dig the hole that contains all that I delight in. I want to let it boil over the surface and flood my world. I want people to see it and  know that it's from a good God who is with us on the mountaintops and in the valleys. I want to acknowledge the goodness in my life so that when trouble does come, I will remember that this life is so worth living. And I want to be okay with living in happiness. I don't want to feel guilty or scared of these moments. But I want to embrace them because they are treasures meant for sharing, not burying.

My heart is in a season of inexpressible gratitude.

And this time, I'm choosing to dance with Him. As long as He takes the lead.

Jace's First party!

...it was a hit!

One Year.

Happy First Birthday, little bud!!

Last Thanksgiving I was in the hospital knowing that by the end of the day my whole life was going to be different.

I love that you were born on Thanksgiving. I love that as I looked on my Facebook newsfeed there were endless posts about all the things we have to be thankful for. You were brought into this world on a day where people stop to reflect on how much blessing there is in this life. Your world was blanketed by hearts of  appreciation. The coziness of love fills the atmosphere as we take one day out of the year to unanimously say we are thankful.

That was the air you got to breathe for the first time. A world filled with the breath of gratefulness.

I remember a pregnancy that was somewhat traumatic. I remember grieving for that kidney. Literally. The grief cycle--denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance...over a kidney that you never had.

I remember time and time again where I had to rely on the promise the Lord so clearly spoke to me, that He would provide for us.

I remember when our favorite doctor said 'your next push is going to bring your son into the world.'

11:32 PM. Thanksgiving Day. I remember the sound of your cry. I remember when your eyes found mine. I remember holding you and knowing my forever was changed. A heart filled with a joy it had never known.

The Lord wanted to show me how rich His grace is when He brought you to our family on a day of gratitude. He promised me 5 days before I was pregnant that "Greater things are yet to come" and I hung on to those words for dear life, in the midst of fear, feelings of inadequacy, and pain.

Here I am a year later. How could I have possibly known? You were worth it all. No, not just worth the nausea and anxiety and grief. You were worth every day of my life leading up to you. Every tear, every piece of broken heart, every day of anguish, every laugh, every smile...it all lead up to you, it was all worth it. You make life completely worth it.

You have changed me. You have changed your dad. You have changed our family. You have changed my friendships.

In one year, you have taught me more than I could learn in a lifetime. You've brought me out of the constraints of my world. We're playing hopscotch on stars, we're dancing between the galaxies.

My soul is forever tattooed with a joy I met just one year ago.

Jace Michael Barton.

You're it.

And I thank you.

It's Easy

My little man. Being your mom is a very vulnerable job. It's the most sensitive issue in my life. Anything said about you is taken very hard...like when the kidney specialist told me all the things in life we would have to limit for you. My boy, when you're created to soar, well, there just are no limitations.

Which is why I wonder how I'll ever let you go to school. The first time anyone says anything to hurt your feelings, I think my body will just give up on me.

I take this job very seriously. It is such an honor. An HONOR to be your mom. Nowhere else have I found a higher calling than being your mom, and your dad's wife. I don't deserve this family. An act of grace.

In the same way I hurt for you, it also hurts when my position as wife or mother is criticized or diminished. Because if these are the most important things to me, then it is quite the gut check to hear or feel like I'm somehow failing. That I am somehow lacking. 

Today it crossed my mind that maybe I don't do enough. That maybe I'm not the best I could be for you.  That maybe I have it too easy and there's so much more I could be doing for you and your dad.

And in the midst of that gut check, you sat down next to me, leaned over, stuck your face in my face and laughed as loud and as hard as you could. And all I could do was laugh with you while the tears streamed down my face. Because it is easy. You make my life easy. Sure, it's harder to run errands, harder to sleep in, harder to go out with friends, harder to go on a vacation.  But, it's easy to love. It's easy to laugh and sing and dance and enjoy the world. You make being alive better. You make joy so real. And I'm overwhelmed by you. And I'm going to come up short for the rest of your life. And there is always going to be more that I could be doing. 

But in the meantime, I'm good if you're good. I'll laugh when you laugh. And together, we'll make this life look easy. 

Perspective

Last month it was so hot in our house. After Jace was asleep Owen blew up our air mattress and we laid on the deck underneath the stars.

There is a lot of perspective when you take the time to look up into the vastness of the night sky. It's a humbling experience. One that keeps you in awe of the universe and forces you to realize how small you are. How your problems and anxieties and fears are tiny in comparison to the thriving world around you. It makes   everything seem inconsequential. It forces you to be amazed at the Glory that surrounds you.

I found this blog the other day, and my heart has been broken ever since. I've spent nap times, shower times,  all sorts of free time reading the words of this mother who has lost so much.

Sometimes life doesn't make sense. It can be so brutal. It's no wonder that we have flesh to cover whats going on inside of us internally. The writhing and crushing. The feeling of helplessness and wretchedness and ache. I wonder what it looks like. Is it ugly? Or is their beauty in raw, honest feeling?

I've been going back to that day under the cozy blanket of stars. Where nothing mattered much. All the chaos of life didn't matter. The realization of how small me and my problems are made the world look beautiful.

I have been thinking about the good, the bad, and the ugly a lot lately. The dichotomy between the sweet treasures of life and the brutal lashings. Does one outweigh the other? Is it really worth the pain, sweat, and tears this life brings?

I'm doing a Beth Moore study about the "Psalms of Ascent". Today we talked about how the Lord sings over our lives. Think of the most amazing singer you know...and think if God created that voice box  how much more captivating His own voice must be. He sings over us. He sings over me.

I think of the effects music has over my soul. If God so much as spoke creation into existence, His singing over me are all those amazing moments that make all the terrible ones worth living for. His songs sound like Jace's laughter.  Like my husband's protection and provision. Like my mom's nurturing. Like late night conversations with my friends. Like my family's Sunday night dinners. They sound like peace only He gives. Like freedom. Like His son's life for mine made pure.

His songs over us make this life beautiful. Not only is it worth it, but we are so unworthy of it.

In the midst of chaos and uncertainty, I pray for the perspective from underneath the canvas of the universe. Because it is there that this crazy life makes the most sense to me.


Desperation--Amazed

You dance over me
While I am unaware
You sing all around
But I never hear the sound

Lord I'm amazed by You
Lord I'm amazed by You
Lord I'm amazed by You
How You love me

How wide
How deep
How great
Is Your love for me

More lyrics: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/d/desperation/#share

One more minute...

Tonight I rocked you to sleep, little man. It's been a long time but I just wanted to hold you extra long today. As your eyes got heavy and you cuddled in a little closer I held you tight and you peacefully fell asleep in my arms as I rocked us both in your rocking chair. I gazed at you thinking "I want just one more minute" and one minute soon turned into 20. I always want just want one more minute with you. I can't seem to get enough.

As we near the end of our first Summer together, I am wanting just one more minute. One minute to really soak up all that your first Summer has meant to me. Your first time swimming in a lake, first time on a boat, first time skipping naps for walks around Greenlake, first road trip to Ocean Shores, first time in an airplane, first time at Disneyland, first time at a wedding,  first time on a ferry, first time camping. For your first summer, I'll say you were pretty darn adventurous. I wouldn't trade one of those memories for anything. You made my first Summer as your mama a dream come true.

You have been an amazing baby. 6 teeth coming in at once and you haven't changed your cheery attitude. The way stranger's interact with you, it's like they see a glimpse of what I see everyday and want just one more minute with the boy who has something the world desperately needs.

You went from rocking on all 4's to crawling super fast, getting up the stairs, standing and walking while holding things...from 0 to 60 before we could even blink. It's amazing to watch your personality come alive.  I am sitting here trying to soak it all in. How you went from a helpless baby to a little boy on a mission. I am loving who this little boy is becoming, and yet want one more minute with my baby. Or maybe 20.

So while we start to say goodbye to Summer, I am just as excited to introduce you to your first Fall. The smells of pumpkin and spices and candles and cute boots and scarves and colorful leaves and comfy jammies and mugs of tea and soft blankets and pies and crisp, clean air, and fireplaces, and the scent of holidays just around the corner. Add a warm, cozy baby on top of all that and it sounds like a slice of heaven to me.

So it's a little bittersweet to say goodbye to your first Summer, but I have to say it has simply been whimsical. Us and you and friends and family. My memories of this Summer blur together and look like ' A Starry Starry Night'...a painting streaked with bright colors and swirls. It's you, Jace. You are my swirls.