So, it's been quite a while since I last wrote. I was driving home yesterday afternoon and received a message loud and clear... "you need to go home and write". So, I once again hit on the keyboard and wondered what message needs to be shared... and I quickly realized that I needed to share my thoughts as we reach the "one year" mark of Courtney's birth.
One year ago we were making plans to drive to San Antonio for Thanksgiving, spend time with family, buy a crib mattress, do some Christmas shopping, to have my mother-in-law feel Courtney move for the first time... never thinking that our world would turn upside down. On November 23 we heard the words, "I'm sorry, she's not moving and there is no heartbeat". On November 24 we would lay our eyes on the most beautiful little girl in the world, and then I would try to find a way to say "goodbye". The best advice I was given was by my husband... "So don't." I'll get back to that in a minute...
On November 25, the date of Thanksgiving last year, I posted the following message on Facebook- "Today is a day of thanking God for our blessings. Today we are blessed by and thankful for Miss Courtney Marie who was stillborn yesterday, and for the 6 1/2 VERY special hours we spent with her. Courtney is loved forever, and her precious hands are now resting in Jesus and with all of our other guardian angels who have gone before her." On the 23rd we had cancelled our plans to go to San Antonio not knowing how I would be feeling physically, but shortly after that post I knew that we needed to be with family. So, we made the drive to San Antonio as we were beginning to grasp what in the world life was going to mean as we lived day to day after Courtney's birth. Thankfully we found the loving arms of family to help shield us from the pain, to sit an listen, to shed tears with, and then to provide distractions from our thoughts.
As we come to Courtney's birthday, she is still very much in my thoughts every day. I haven't said "goodbye". There are reminders of her presence in my life all around me. I talk to her each time I see a butterfly. I look at my phone many times a day and see her precious face on my screen. I feel her in the gentle breezes. I shed tears more often than I ever have before. And I give thanks to God more than I ever have before. We have been blessed beyond measure, and Courtney is the common thread in many of the blessings that I can name in my life right now.
This year on Thanksgiving day, which is Courtney's birthday, we'll take the time to remember what we experienced a year ago, but we'll also take time to be thankful for and to celebrate her presence in our lives. She may not be here physically, but I know she is with me every day. She has taught me a great deal, she has been the source of inspiration and blessings, and she has given me the opportunity to be called "mom" for the first time in my life. Of course, there are tears, even as I sit here and write, but the tears have meaning, the pain of grief has meaning, and her life has meaning.
Happy birthday, Courtney, our little peanut! We love you more than words can say, and we miss you more than we ever thought possible. Thank you for being our beautiful, precious little girl! And thanks be to God for giving her to us!
Courtney's Story- an reporter's perspective
We are so pleased to share a link with all of you written by another person we want you to meet... Rhiannon Meyers. Rhiannon is a reporter with the Corpus Christi Caller Times, and she spent several hours with us in February. She has so beautifully written Courtney's Story for others to see.
http://www.caller.com/news/2011/jun/25/reeling-from-loss-of-her-only-child-kingsville/
Rhiannon was connected to us through the hospital, and through Grace, whom you have met in other posts. God truly puts people in our lives when we need them. I believe Rhiannon was put in our lives to help share the story of Courtney with others who are grieving, especially in those who have not found the voice to tell their own stories. My heart hurts knowing that there are people who are grieving silently... God knows their pain and they certainly are not alone.
Rhiannon, thank you for so beautifully telling our story, and for the courage to be a voice for all who can relate. You are a treasure!
http://www.caller.com/news/2011/jun/25/reeling-from-loss-of-her-only-child-kingsville/
Rhiannon was connected to us through the hospital, and through Grace, whom you have met in other posts. God truly puts people in our lives when we need them. I believe Rhiannon was put in our lives to help share the story of Courtney with others who are grieving, especially in those who have not found the voice to tell their own stories. My heart hurts knowing that there are people who are grieving silently... God knows their pain and they certainly are not alone.
Rhiannon, thank you for so beautifully telling our story, and for the courage to be a voice for all who can relate. You are a treasure!
EEK! (It's not a scary post, I promise!)
EEK! Nope, I'm not scared, I'm celebrating some amazing women with that very simple three letter word! I'd like to introduce you to the Epiphany Episcopal Knitters (also known in our congregation as EEK!). The knitters have lovingly and prayerfully knit or crocheted 21 hats that I will be taking to the hospital when I deliver the next round of Courtney Cares boxes this week.
This project is an incredible ministry of 5 women who have the patience and the skills to make the tiny stitches, while also thinking of and praying for the end recipient of the hats.
The woman who took the lead in organizing of the making of the hats, Catherine, has asked each one who is knitting or crocheting to pray for the family who will face a long journey of grief and healing. From Catherine's invitation to the knitters, here is her prayer for each hat:
"God of goodness and mercy, thank you blessing me with the opportunity to share my love and concern for others through something tangible. Bless and guide my hands that I may create something that may be even a small comfort to the family who receives it. Pour your loving spirit into the challenging days they will face. Give them the strength and the reassurance that they are surrounded by friends, and even strangers like me, who are praying for them. Protect all your children, O Lord, especially the perfect child of Yours who will receive this cap; and bring all Your children home in Your time to the Heavenly Kingdom that awaits us though the merciful gift of Your Son, Jesus Christ. Amen."
Knowing that a baby will, literally, be covered in love and prayers of these amazing women while they wear these precious hats will hopefully bring some measure of comfort to the families that will receive them. Catherine not only had the idea to make the hats, but also wanted these hats to carry the prayers of many others, so she asked our priest to bless the hats with the prayers of the congregation during church yesterday morning. It was such a moving experience to be a part of this congregation as we prayed over these hats and for the families.
Thank you, Catherine, for your idea and leadership, and all of the other EEK! members for such an amazing contribution to the families who receive a hat... It becomes yet one more tangible memory that helps to tell the stories of our little ones. Each hat is different from the next, just as each of our angel babies are from each other. The other very touching part of this story is that these 5 women range from 15 years old to a woman in her retirement, at least a 50 year age range! The love for these angels and families knows no age... and each hat was lovingly and prayerfully made for a family that loves and grieves deeply.
God bless EEK! and all those touched by this wonderful gift.
An Easter I Will Not Forget
I have many memories of celebrating Easter with my family while growing up. I remember the Easter dress that my mom made me when I was in elementary school that matched hers, complete with a matching bonnet and a purse. I remember hunting for Easter eggs and jelly beans (leaving the black ones for someone else to find) before going to church. I remember the little yellow sundress that was in my Easter basket that I just HAD to wear to church that day. I remember the Easter that I went to church covered in scabs after falling off a skateboard (and the fit my mother had when I walked into the house after falling off the skateboard the day before Easter). I remember eating so much chocolate from my Easter basket that I swore off eating chocolate forever (which really only lasted until the sugar crash was over). I remember singing the Hallelujah Chorus with the choir at church in high school and college- especially the goosebumps I got each and every time I sang it surrounded by people who make it sound so incredibly beautiful and personal. And I now remember an Easter filled with grief and tears.
I had an unexpected reality check on Easter morning- we won't have Courtney hand us a homemade cards (complete with misspelled words and hand drawn flowers). We won't see our daughter sing praise hymns in church (complete with adorable hand gestures). We won't see her hunt for Easter eggs...or watch her eat a chocolate bunny.
How did I cope with my reality check? I cried, literally cried, all the way through church. Then I cried in the car on the way home. I cried at home that afternoon and evening... yep, I even cried some the next day.
What helped me get through it? A woman in our congregation who FULLY understands and who was struggling that day too. She came over with a box of tissues and a big hug. An understanding priest who gave me a great big bear hug on our way out of church, knowing that sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all. The world's BEST husband let me cry on his shoulder...yet again. He let me be a complete mess all day. And, yet again, I heard my dad tell me that he's praying for us. And most of all, I allowed myself to feel the emotions and then I gave them over to God- the anger, the pain, the hurt, the questions, and the grief.
The time between the parting of a loved one from earth and our entry into heaven still hurts... sometimes the pain sneaks up on you and it hits when you least expect it to, even on days that are supposed to be so joyful. While the sorrow exists in the parting on earth, thankfully Easter gives us the promise of joy and the promise of heaven. I am more thankful for that Easter message then ever before.
I had an unexpected reality check on Easter morning- we won't have Courtney hand us a homemade cards (complete with misspelled words and hand drawn flowers). We won't see our daughter sing praise hymns in church (complete with adorable hand gestures). We won't see her hunt for Easter eggs...or watch her eat a chocolate bunny.
How did I cope with my reality check? I cried, literally cried, all the way through church. Then I cried in the car on the way home. I cried at home that afternoon and evening... yep, I even cried some the next day.
What helped me get through it? A woman in our congregation who FULLY understands and who was struggling that day too. She came over with a box of tissues and a big hug. An understanding priest who gave me a great big bear hug on our way out of church, knowing that sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all. The world's BEST husband let me cry on his shoulder...yet again. He let me be a complete mess all day. And, yet again, I heard my dad tell me that he's praying for us. And most of all, I allowed myself to feel the emotions and then I gave them over to God- the anger, the pain, the hurt, the questions, and the grief.
The time between the parting of a loved one from earth and our entry into heaven still hurts... sometimes the pain sneaks up on you and it hits when you least expect it to, even on days that are supposed to be so joyful. While the sorrow exists in the parting on earth, thankfully Easter gives us the promise of joy and the promise of heaven. I am more thankful for that Easter message then ever before.
Miracles
I recently posted this phrase as my status on Facebook:
"There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle." - Albert Einstein
Twenty-four years ago my life changed in an instant. It was Ash Wednesday 1986, and I still remember that day as if it happened last week. I was sitting in class in high school and a message was delivered to the classroom that I needed to go to the principal's office. I am a rule follower and the thought of being called to the principal's office was the first time that day that my stomach dropped out of my body. I had NEVER been to the principal's office and I could not imagine what I had done to deserve the summons. When I arrived I was escorted into the office of the assistant principal and I remember thinking "what is my mom going to say about this when I have to call her to tell her I'm in trouble?" Well, I had my mom on my mind, but it ended up that the visit to the office was about her. "I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your pastor is on his way to pick you up. Your mother had a massive heart attack and your dad will meet you at the hospital." I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach and then it dropped out of my body for a second time.
The experience of watching my mom fight for her life was nothing short of a miracle, from the news that she made it through surgery, through the news that more surgery was needed and devastating news after that surgery that if a heart was not found right away for a transplant she would lose her fight. Miracle after miracle- a family made the decision to donate a loved one's organs so that others could experience the miracle of life while their loved one lost theirs, surgery was a success, and each little milestone that we watched for for 2 months while she was in a coma... then walking into her hospital room and seeing her awake. Miracle after miracle. We were living a miracle each and every day, and we had 4 years of miracles while she was still with us.
That experience of watching my mom fight for her life, and seeing the power of prayer at work in our lives, was the second most faith filled experience I have had in my 40 years. You know from other blog posts that Courtney is at the top of the list.
In the past 24 years I had lost sight of daily miracles in the hustle and bustle of daily life, but Courtney is now a constant reminder that miracles can, and still do, happen daily. 15 years of trying to conceive and we finally did... miracle. Seeing her heartbeat and move on the three ultrasounds we had- miracle. Seeing what she looked like while holding my daughter in my arms- miracle. Seeing the ways she has opened our eyes to blessings- miracle. Being able to see God in the grief- miracle.
I've been asked about how I can take an "unfair" situation and be coping the way that I am- I'm choosing to see the positives rather than focusing on the negatives. I'm making a conscious choice to see the "miracles" in every day life. I could dwell on the negative, I could wallow in my sorrow, I could throw myself one huge pity party (my family could tell you that I was REALLY good at that growing up), but I would be missing out on seeing the miracles around me. Is my glass half-empty or half-full? Neither... it's full!
Butterflies on beautiful flowers on Courtney's due date- miracle. Hearing messages that touch my heart in books or songs or sermons- miracle. Being able to smile and laugh about Courtney or any other thing in my life- miracle. Being blessed beyond measure with great friends, wonderful family and the best husband a girl could ask for- miracle. Having my life being held in God's hands... the biggest miracle of all.
My mom and my daughter- the two people who have strengthened my faith in the world are together in heaven... two of God's miracles who have touched my life and who have shown me the power of prayer, the strength of faith, and who have taught me to believe in miracles... both the big ones and the ones that surround us each day.
What are the miracles around you right now?
"There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle." - Albert Einstein
Twenty-four years ago my life changed in an instant. It was Ash Wednesday 1986, and I still remember that day as if it happened last week. I was sitting in class in high school and a message was delivered to the classroom that I needed to go to the principal's office. I am a rule follower and the thought of being called to the principal's office was the first time that day that my stomach dropped out of my body. I had NEVER been to the principal's office and I could not imagine what I had done to deserve the summons. When I arrived I was escorted into the office of the assistant principal and I remember thinking "what is my mom going to say about this when I have to call her to tell her I'm in trouble?" Well, I had my mom on my mind, but it ended up that the visit to the office was about her. "I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your pastor is on his way to pick you up. Your mother had a massive heart attack and your dad will meet you at the hospital." I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach and then it dropped out of my body for a second time.
The experience of watching my mom fight for her life was nothing short of a miracle, from the news that she made it through surgery, through the news that more surgery was needed and devastating news after that surgery that if a heart was not found right away for a transplant she would lose her fight. Miracle after miracle- a family made the decision to donate a loved one's organs so that others could experience the miracle of life while their loved one lost theirs, surgery was a success, and each little milestone that we watched for for 2 months while she was in a coma... then walking into her hospital room and seeing her awake. Miracle after miracle. We were living a miracle each and every day, and we had 4 years of miracles while she was still with us.
That experience of watching my mom fight for her life, and seeing the power of prayer at work in our lives, was the second most faith filled experience I have had in my 40 years. You know from other blog posts that Courtney is at the top of the list.
In the past 24 years I had lost sight of daily miracles in the hustle and bustle of daily life, but Courtney is now a constant reminder that miracles can, and still do, happen daily. 15 years of trying to conceive and we finally did... miracle. Seeing her heartbeat and move on the three ultrasounds we had- miracle. Seeing what she looked like while holding my daughter in my arms- miracle. Seeing the ways she has opened our eyes to blessings- miracle. Being able to see God in the grief- miracle.
I've been asked about how I can take an "unfair" situation and be coping the way that I am- I'm choosing to see the positives rather than focusing on the negatives. I'm making a conscious choice to see the "miracles" in every day life. I could dwell on the negative, I could wallow in my sorrow, I could throw myself one huge pity party (my family could tell you that I was REALLY good at that growing up), but I would be missing out on seeing the miracles around me. Is my glass half-empty or half-full? Neither... it's full!
Butterflies on beautiful flowers on Courtney's due date- miracle. Hearing messages that touch my heart in books or songs or sermons- miracle. Being able to smile and laugh about Courtney or any other thing in my life- miracle. Being blessed beyond measure with great friends, wonderful family and the best husband a girl could ask for- miracle. Having my life being held in God's hands... the biggest miracle of all.
My mom and my daughter- the two people who have strengthened my faith in the world are together in heaven... two of God's miracles who have touched my life and who have shown me the power of prayer, the strength of faith, and who have taught me to believe in miracles... both the big ones and the ones that surround us each day.
What are the miracles around you right now?
Seeing
John 9: 1-41 was then gospel in church yesterday morning- the story of Jesus healing the man who was blind from birth. I've heard this story many times, and yesterday it took on a new meaning.
During the sermon our pastor reminded us that this story isn't about the "eyes", it's about "seeing". The story is about how we are blind before we are filled with God's grace, how the washing away of our sins (like the washing of the mud off the eyes) lets us see the world in a new way. (Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.) It's also about taking time to see how God uses people and experiences in our lives to help us to see the world in the way that He wants us to see it, to see the blessings, opportunities and lessons so that we can help others to see the world through His eyes.
Courtney has been just that for me. Courtney has helped me see the world through they eyes of being a mother, the eyes of grief and joy at the same time, the eyes of compassion, the eyes of a deeper faith. I have said that Courtney has been the foundation of the most faith-filled event in my life, and I see the world in a very different way after Courtney's birth.
I hope you don't mind another book reference. I recently read the book "Choosing to See" by Mary Beth Chapman. She is the wife of Stephen Curtis Chapmen, Christian artist and songwriter. Her book chronicles her life leading up to, through and after the loss of one of her children in an accident that also involved one of her sons. It is a heartbreaking story, yet one that is filled with the encouragement to "SEE" what is going on around you and in you. She challenges readers to see how God uses tragedy, grief, and despair to show us the hope, the joy and the blessings in life.
Courtney is here with me, helping me see the world that God wants me to see. She has shown me the strength of others that I can lean on. She has shown me that beauty is found in the simple things in life (like flowers and butterflies). She has shown me that my heart can melt in an instant in a ways that it never has before, and it still does each time I see her picture or think of her lying on my chest. She has taught me how one of the smallest things in the world can take up the most room in my heart (credit to Winnie the Pooh on that thought). She has certainly changed who I am forever, and for the better.
I had the choice to turn my back on God or to let God use Courtney in my life. If I had made the choice to turn my back I have no idea how I would be handling the grief, the emptiness, and the broken heart. Making the choice to let God use Courtney to teach me lessons, to give me comfort, and to fill some of the emptiness with hope in heaven was one of the best decisions I could ever make. I made the choice to see...
I do wish that I could have seen the world through her eyes as she learned where her toes were, as she threw temper tantrums, and as she had all of the other experiences of growing up. In the absence of those experiences I can imagine her in heaven playing with butterflies, walking around with my mom, and sitting on the lap of Jesus. I can see the work that God is doing in my life through this cute little peanut. I thank God for His amazing grace that gives me the opportunity to "see".
During the sermon our pastor reminded us that this story isn't about the "eyes", it's about "seeing". The story is about how we are blind before we are filled with God's grace, how the washing away of our sins (like the washing of the mud off the eyes) lets us see the world in a new way. (Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.) It's also about taking time to see how God uses people and experiences in our lives to help us to see the world in the way that He wants us to see it, to see the blessings, opportunities and lessons so that we can help others to see the world through His eyes.
Courtney has been just that for me. Courtney has helped me see the world through they eyes of being a mother, the eyes of grief and joy at the same time, the eyes of compassion, the eyes of a deeper faith. I have said that Courtney has been the foundation of the most faith-filled event in my life, and I see the world in a very different way after Courtney's birth.
I hope you don't mind another book reference. I recently read the book "Choosing to See" by Mary Beth Chapman. She is the wife of Stephen Curtis Chapmen, Christian artist and songwriter. Her book chronicles her life leading up to, through and after the loss of one of her children in an accident that also involved one of her sons. It is a heartbreaking story, yet one that is filled with the encouragement to "SEE" what is going on around you and in you. She challenges readers to see how God uses tragedy, grief, and despair to show us the hope, the joy and the blessings in life.
Courtney is here with me, helping me see the world that God wants me to see. She has shown me the strength of others that I can lean on. She has shown me that beauty is found in the simple things in life (like flowers and butterflies). She has shown me that my heart can melt in an instant in a ways that it never has before, and it still does each time I see her picture or think of her lying on my chest. She has taught me how one of the smallest things in the world can take up the most room in my heart (credit to Winnie the Pooh on that thought). She has certainly changed who I am forever, and for the better.
I had the choice to turn my back on God or to let God use Courtney in my life. If I had made the choice to turn my back I have no idea how I would be handling the grief, the emptiness, and the broken heart. Making the choice to let God use Courtney to teach me lessons, to give me comfort, and to fill some of the emptiness with hope in heaven was one of the best decisions I could ever make. I made the choice to see...
I do wish that I could have seen the world through her eyes as she learned where her toes were, as she threw temper tantrums, and as she had all of the other experiences of growing up. In the absence of those experiences I can imagine her in heaven playing with butterflies, walking around with my mom, and sitting on the lap of Jesus. I can see the work that God is doing in my life through this cute little peanut. I thank God for His amazing grace that gives me the opportunity to "see".
Stories
Stories... everyone has one to share. Right?
Sometimes stories can be told in a short Facebook status update, Twitter update, a text message, a blog, a phone conversation, an e-mail, a letter delivered by 'snail mail', or hundreds of other ways. In my opinion, stories, though, are best shared when you can engage in a personal conversation with others. You see the body language, facial expressions, and the emotion that goes along with that story.
However the story is shared, the important thing is that it is told.
Courtney has been a difficult story for us to tell, but she has also been a story full of blessings that we continue to discover. Some of those blessings are hearing the stories of others.
Last week we were inspired by a story from a woman that we have known for years. She had an infant that died decades ago, and back when she had her little angel it wasn't something openly talked about. She never saw her little one, and my heart hurts for her knowing that she doesn't have beautiful memories of what her son looked like. Last week she talked about her angel, and I am so thankful that we were the recipients of part of her story through her daughter. It still brings tears to my eyes to read the e-mails we received about her story.
A couple of our friends recently celebrated the birthday of their little angel in a very meaningful and beautiful way, and they shared pictures with others of their celebration. A very bittersweet celebration, I am sure, but a celebration of the blessing and the impact that baby has had, and will continue to have, in their lives. They continue to share their story... and I am blessed by hearing it!
I have had others share their stories of miscarriage or loss of a little one as we have opened up about Courtney. My life is enriched through each story shared.
I cannot think of a more painful way to experience grief than to have to hold it inside. I have been so thankful, and I'll continue to say it, that we haven't had to go through this journey alone. and that we have been allowed to share our story. We have been asked about our little peanut, we've volunteered information, we've shared pictures and this blog URL. Shoot, we even talked to a reporter about Courtney! We have been forever affected by this journey, and I, for one, pray that we can continue to be a vessel that God uses to allow others to talk about their experiences, their journeys, their pain. I pray that others who are also affected by the loss of a baby will continue to share their stories. By sharing we find others who are struggling, healing, and celebrating. It helps to know that we are not alone.
Sometimes stories can be told in a short Facebook status update, Twitter update, a text message, a blog, a phone conversation, an e-mail, a letter delivered by 'snail mail', or hundreds of other ways. In my opinion, stories, though, are best shared when you can engage in a personal conversation with others. You see the body language, facial expressions, and the emotion that goes along with that story.
However the story is shared, the important thing is that it is told.
Courtney has been a difficult story for us to tell, but she has also been a story full of blessings that we continue to discover. Some of those blessings are hearing the stories of others.
Last week we were inspired by a story from a woman that we have known for years. She had an infant that died decades ago, and back when she had her little angel it wasn't something openly talked about. She never saw her little one, and my heart hurts for her knowing that she doesn't have beautiful memories of what her son looked like. Last week she talked about her angel, and I am so thankful that we were the recipients of part of her story through her daughter. It still brings tears to my eyes to read the e-mails we received about her story.
A couple of our friends recently celebrated the birthday of their little angel in a very meaningful and beautiful way, and they shared pictures with others of their celebration. A very bittersweet celebration, I am sure, but a celebration of the blessing and the impact that baby has had, and will continue to have, in their lives. They continue to share their story... and I am blessed by hearing it!
I have had others share their stories of miscarriage or loss of a little one as we have opened up about Courtney. My life is enriched through each story shared.
I cannot think of a more painful way to experience grief than to have to hold it inside. I have been so thankful, and I'll continue to say it, that we haven't had to go through this journey alone. and that we have been allowed to share our story. We have been asked about our little peanut, we've volunteered information, we've shared pictures and this blog URL. Shoot, we even talked to a reporter about Courtney! We have been forever affected by this journey, and I, for one, pray that we can continue to be a vessel that God uses to allow others to talk about their experiences, their journeys, their pain. I pray that others who are also affected by the loss of a baby will continue to share their stories. By sharing we find others who are struggling, healing, and celebrating. It helps to know that we are not alone.
Held
I hope you don't mind another post about a song. I'm still finding that music is a way that I am making sense of the integration of Courtney into my daily life.
Have you heard the song "Held" sung by Natalie Grant? You can find a powerful YouTube video of the song at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2m1HZekCcc. Here are the lyrics:
As I was talking with my stepmom about some songs for Courtney's service she told me about "Held". I listened to the song, and it was one I had heard before. It just didn't resonate with me that day. On Courtney's due date a friend posted the link to "Held" on her Facebook page, and this time I was, literally, moved to tears. This heartfelt and honest song, to me, is about the hope we can find in the pain. I think I needed to be farther along this journey to have the messages come through the song. A few thoughts that I take from the song:
Have you heard the song "Held" sung by Natalie Grant? You can find a powerful YouTube video of the song at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2m1HZekCcc. Here are the lyrics:
Two months is too little. They let him go. They had no sudden healing.
To think that providence would take a child from his mother while she prays is appalling.
Who told us we'd be rescued? What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We're asking why this happens to us who have died to live. It's unfair.
This is what it means to be held, how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life and you survive.
This is what it is to be loved and to know that the promise was when everything fell we'd be held.
This hand is bitterness. We want to taste it, let the hatred numb our sorrows. The wise hand opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow.
This is what it means to be held, how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life and you survive.
This is what it is to be loved and to know that the promise was when everything fell we'd be held.
If hope if born of suffering; if this is only the beginning; can we not wait for one hour, watching for our Savior?
This is what it means to be held, how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life and you survive.
This is what it is to be loved and to know that the promise was when everything fell, we'd be held. Yeah, we'd be held.
Oh, this is what it is to be loved and to know that the promise was when everything fell, we'd be held.
This is what it means to be held.
As I was talking with my stepmom about some songs for Courtney's service she told me about "Held". I listened to the song, and it was one I had heard before. It just didn't resonate with me that day. On Courtney's due date a friend posted the link to "Held" on her Facebook page, and this time I was, literally, moved to tears. This heartfelt and honest song, to me, is about the hope we can find in the pain. I think I needed to be farther along this journey to have the messages come through the song. A few thoughts that I take from the song:
- "This is what it means to be held"- I've mentioned previously that I have been able to be angry with God, knowing that He was holding my heart in the process- He's holding me, not just my heart but all of me. There have been other times when I have felt the prayers and thoughts of others- others holding us in their hearts and minds. I don't know how to get through the toughest of life's experiences without the support of our family, friends, and our Savior. I've said before that I am so thankful that we haven't had to go through this experience alone. Everyone who has been there for us through this experience has been part of the holding, and we thank God for each of you!
- The news that Courtney didn't have a heartbeat is spoken in the "how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life". The feeling of my stomach dropping out of my body, the gut wrenching sobs of grief, the hollow emptiness,
- "and you survive". We have...and some days that's easier said than done.
- "It's unfair." I've come to understand that phrase in a different way, because I know that my understanding of the bigger picture is so limited, and I have to trust God in knowing how these pieces of life fit together. God works through the times in my life that I see as "unfair" in ways he can't during the times of contentment and joy. The valleys truly help me more fully appreciate the peaks.
- The phrase, "If hope is born of suffering", I believe to be very true. I have found a great deal of hope while allowing myself to feel the pain and suffering of the loss I've experienced since Courtney's death. I have never experienced the emotional pain of life like I have in the past 3 months, but I've also, as I'm mentioned before, never had such a faith-filled experience. The woman who posted the link to the song summed it up this way, "There is healing and joy on the other side. Think of feeling all of your emotions as a way to honor Courtney. She meant enough to you to feel the pain, so you can know the joy."
A Due Date with Butterflies
Yesterday I had a date with butterflies... and I had another date with them just now.
Yesterday, as we pulled in the driveway after church and lunch, I noticed a Texas Mountain Laurel tree (identified with the help of one of my cousins) in full bloom, with bright, fragrant purple flowers. The blooms were attracting butterflies- not just a couple, but perhaps a dozen or more.
I took my camera outside to capture some of the beauty of the tree, and I couldn't help but think about the meaning of a butterfly. The butterfly is often used in the church as a symbol of the resurrection- the caterpillar goes into the cocoon and appears dead, to only emerge more beautiful than before.
The butterfly is a symbol of keeping the faith that God has a plan for us while we go through significant periods of change and transformation. If I've ever experienced a period of transformation and change in my life, it's now. I believe in God's promise that he is walking beside me in good times and in bad, and the butterfly reminds me that that promise was made by God with great sacrifice in the death of his Son. God fully understands the death of a child. Through the sacrifice of Jesus we have the hope of heaven, of eternal life, of joy after the sorrow.
Yesterday, in particular, the butterflies gracefully, colorfully, and beautifully fluttered around the blooms on the tree. While I sat and just watched them for a few minutes I thought of how I wish I could have shared that experience with Courtney. She has been on my mind a lot yesterday and today, and how fitting that the butterfly is the symbol I have for these two days. You see, today is Courtney's original due date. I made the decision to take the day off of work, wondering what my emotional state might be like today. I'm at fairly well at peace, and I didn't think I would be. But then again, with the presence I have felt from God and from Courtney in my life in these past three months, I shouldn't be surprised. Don't get me wrong- there are still periods of tears today- remembering what was lost, thinking of what could have been- but there is a sense of peace about those thoughts and memories. I see Courtney's presence in the message of the butterflies, in the fragrant blooms of the tree, in the kisses I believe she is giving me in the light breeze.
As I sit here writing about butterflies, I have the image of Courtney running through a field of flowers trying to catch the butterflies while giggling, jumping, and experiencing pure joy. Perhaps that's what she's doing in heaven right now. What a beautiful thought to take with me the rest of this day!
Yesterday, as we pulled in the driveway after church and lunch, I noticed a Texas Mountain Laurel tree (identified with the help of one of my cousins) in full bloom, with bright, fragrant purple flowers. The blooms were attracting butterflies- not just a couple, but perhaps a dozen or more.
The butterfly is a symbol of keeping the faith that God has a plan for us while we go through significant periods of change and transformation. If I've ever experienced a period of transformation and change in my life, it's now. I believe in God's promise that he is walking beside me in good times and in bad, and the butterfly reminds me that that promise was made by God with great sacrifice in the death of his Son. God fully understands the death of a child. Through the sacrifice of Jesus we have the hope of heaven, of eternal life, of joy after the sorrow.
Yesterday, in particular, the butterflies gracefully, colorfully, and beautifully fluttered around the blooms on the tree. While I sat and just watched them for a few minutes I thought of how I wish I could have shared that experience with Courtney. She has been on my mind a lot yesterday and today, and how fitting that the butterfly is the symbol I have for these two days. You see, today is Courtney's original due date. I made the decision to take the day off of work, wondering what my emotional state might be like today. I'm at fairly well at peace, and I didn't think I would be. But then again, with the presence I have felt from God and from Courtney in my life in these past three months, I shouldn't be surprised. Don't get me wrong- there are still periods of tears today- remembering what was lost, thinking of what could have been- but there is a sense of peace about those thoughts and memories. I see Courtney's presence in the message of the butterflies, in the fragrant blooms of the tree, in the kisses I believe she is giving me in the light breeze.
As I sit here writing about butterflies, I have the image of Courtney running through a field of flowers trying to catch the butterflies while giggling, jumping, and experiencing pure joy. Perhaps that's what she's doing in heaven right now. What a beautiful thought to take with me the rest of this day!
Life is the journey. Heaven is the destination!
I've shared with you, in previous posts, about my hope of being reunited with Courtney in heaven, when it is my turn to be called home by God. I recently read a book called "Heaven is for Real" by Todd Burpo with Lynn Vincent. You can see information here: http://www.heavenisforreal.net/.
This book shares the journey of 4-year old Colton. He was a very sick little boy, and the doctors did not give the family positive encouragement after surgery. Not only did he heal, he has now shared parts of his story of being in heaven for "3 minutes"- the things he saw, the people he met, and the conversations he had with Jesus. The stories Colton tells about heaven are so simple and straightforward, yet so inspiring and encouraging.
Heaven... the place that has been prepared for us and that we will see through God's grace. I've shared with people over the past almost 3 months that my "concept" of heaven has changed since we lost Courtney. I have always viewed heaven as the end goal, as the final destination where I'll be reunited with my mom, grandparents, uncles, and friends who have gone before me. I've thought of my mom greeting me, showing me around. I've thought of how much fun it will be to pick on my grandmother again (she was such a good sport) and to have a cup of really strong coffee with her and my grandpa. I've thought about seeing my other grandpa and two uncles who all left this earth way too soon, as long as my grandpa doesn't try to give me one of his infamous "whisker rubs"! I look forward to uncontrollable laughing with my Great Uncle Bob and Uncle Paul, the kind of laughter that makes you cry, and laughter that makes you want to grip your stomach because of the workout your abs got from laughing so hard. Now, my thought of heaven has changed to being greeted by Courtney, seeing life in her for the first time, and being able to get to know her in a way that I couldn't while she was with us. I have a sense of anticipation in knowing what awaits. Courtney is now my thought of my entrance to heaven after seeing Jesus. (Colton, in the "Heaven is for Real" book tells a dying man not to worry, that Jesus is the first person you'll see in heaven.)
The best way I can describe my changing of thought about heaven is through "adult Christmas" and "child Christmas". Let me try to explain:
To me, Christmas as an adult is about spending time with loved ones, and reflecting on the fact that the birth of Christ was the beginning of the resurrection story. Without the birth of Jesus we would not have the sacrifice that gives us the guarantee of heaven through the grace of God.
Christmas as a kid, though, was very different. There was typically that ONE gift that I hoped for every year... the ONE thing that I hoped I would see as I tried to rip off wrapping paper fast enough to see if it was in one of the packages. Would I hit the gift jackpot? Only time would tell.. well, time and a bit of what I thought was smart detective work while snooping through the house looking for the stash of gifts. The book "Heaven is for Real" is a bit of a "snoop" into what lies ahead.
Before having Courtney, heaven was more like the adult Christmas... looking forward to spending time with family who had gone before, enjoying the togetherness and living the promise of heaven. Heaven after Courtney is more like Christmas as a kid. There is a sense of eager anticipation, wondering what the "gift of heaven" will hold. I know part of what that gift (heaven) is going to include, and it still doesn't take away ANY of the anticipation.
One of the very first "visions" I had of Courtney after she was born was an image of my mom taking Courtney by the hand and showing her around heaven. I can see my mom introducing her to all of those who have been called home to heaven, and I can imagine how proud my mom is to have her granddaughter in her arms. With my mom, a grandma, two grandpas, three uncles, and lots of others, I'm sure Courtney has not spent a moment alone since she arrived. I've had visions of Courtney sitting on the lap of Jesus, and what a comfort that provides to me. I anticipate being called "mom" by Courtney when it's my time to be called home. Until then, I know Jesus and my mom will take good care of my little peanut, but I hope they can keep her away from grandpa's whisker rubs, and I hope they don't let grandma give her too much coffee!
This book shares the journey of 4-year old Colton. He was a very sick little boy, and the doctors did not give the family positive encouragement after surgery. Not only did he heal, he has now shared parts of his story of being in heaven for "3 minutes"- the things he saw, the people he met, and the conversations he had with Jesus. The stories Colton tells about heaven are so simple and straightforward, yet so inspiring and encouraging.
Heaven... the place that has been prepared for us and that we will see through God's grace. I've shared with people over the past almost 3 months that my "concept" of heaven has changed since we lost Courtney. I have always viewed heaven as the end goal, as the final destination where I'll be reunited with my mom, grandparents, uncles, and friends who have gone before me. I've thought of my mom greeting me, showing me around. I've thought of how much fun it will be to pick on my grandmother again (she was such a good sport) and to have a cup of really strong coffee with her and my grandpa. I've thought about seeing my other grandpa and two uncles who all left this earth way too soon, as long as my grandpa doesn't try to give me one of his infamous "whisker rubs"! I look forward to uncontrollable laughing with my Great Uncle Bob and Uncle Paul, the kind of laughter that makes you cry, and laughter that makes you want to grip your stomach because of the workout your abs got from laughing so hard. Now, my thought of heaven has changed to being greeted by Courtney, seeing life in her for the first time, and being able to get to know her in a way that I couldn't while she was with us. I have a sense of anticipation in knowing what awaits. Courtney is now my thought of my entrance to heaven after seeing Jesus. (Colton, in the "Heaven is for Real" book tells a dying man not to worry, that Jesus is the first person you'll see in heaven.)
The best way I can describe my changing of thought about heaven is through "adult Christmas" and "child Christmas". Let me try to explain:
To me, Christmas as an adult is about spending time with loved ones, and reflecting on the fact that the birth of Christ was the beginning of the resurrection story. Without the birth of Jesus we would not have the sacrifice that gives us the guarantee of heaven through the grace of God.
Christmas as a kid, though, was very different. There was typically that ONE gift that I hoped for every year... the ONE thing that I hoped I would see as I tried to rip off wrapping paper fast enough to see if it was in one of the packages. Would I hit the gift jackpot? Only time would tell.. well, time and a bit of what I thought was smart detective work while snooping through the house looking for the stash of gifts. The book "Heaven is for Real" is a bit of a "snoop" into what lies ahead.
Before having Courtney, heaven was more like the adult Christmas... looking forward to spending time with family who had gone before, enjoying the togetherness and living the promise of heaven. Heaven after Courtney is more like Christmas as a kid. There is a sense of eager anticipation, wondering what the "gift of heaven" will hold. I know part of what that gift (heaven) is going to include, and it still doesn't take away ANY of the anticipation.
One of the very first "visions" I had of Courtney after she was born was an image of my mom taking Courtney by the hand and showing her around heaven. I can see my mom introducing her to all of those who have been called home to heaven, and I can imagine how proud my mom is to have her granddaughter in her arms. With my mom, a grandma, two grandpas, three uncles, and lots of others, I'm sure Courtney has not spent a moment alone since she arrived. I've had visions of Courtney sitting on the lap of Jesus, and what a comfort that provides to me. I anticipate being called "mom" by Courtney when it's my time to be called home. Until then, I know Jesus and my mom will take good care of my little peanut, but I hope they can keep her away from grandpa's whisker rubs, and I hope they don't let grandma give her too much coffee!
Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep
"Now I lay me down to sleep" is the prayer that my family used before bed when we were little. If I remember correctly we said something like "Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. God bless Mom, Dad, Scott, Kirsten, Todd, Shi-Shi, Jesus, the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. Amen." It was certainly a start to a lifetime of asking God to bless those significant to us... yes, even the Easter Bunny and Santa. What kid wouldn't want God to bless them? (Shi-Shi, by the way, was the dog.)
This prayer has new meaning to me now, after meeting the next person we want you to know- an angel named Kim. Kim is a photographer who volunteers time with an international non-profit organization called "Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep" (NILMDTS, for short). Grace, who I introduced you to in "Grace and the Courtney Cares Boxes", contacted Kim to see if she would be willing to set aside some of her plans the day before Thanksgiving to take photos of our little peanut. Kim produced absolutely beautiful pictures of Courtney, some by herself and some with us. We are so thankful for her work! We have some other tangible memories of Courtney, but the pictures best help us tell the story of Courtney. Here are a couple of my favorites:
I love the prayer on this picture, and the detail it shows of the little peanut- the "family" nose from my mother's side, the curly hair, and ears that are thankfully my husband's, not my father's! (Couldn't resist, Dad!)
The prayer:
Now I lay you down to sleep,
I pray the Lord your soul to keep;
Within his arms he'll hold you tight,
My Heavenly Angel, My Guiding Light
This is my favorite picture of Courtney. The peace on her little face, and the lamb in her hands constantly remind me that while we feel the pain of grief and loss, she is at peace in Jesus' hands.
The feet on the background of this blog is also from one of Kim's pictures.
Not only were we given beautiful pictures, Kim also put together a slide show, set to beautiful music, of the pictures and some quotes. We are so blessed that NILMDTS and Kim were able to be a part of Courtney's time with us, and because of Kim's work we are able to share the beauty of our daughter with you. To learn more about NILMDTS, visit their website: www.nowilaymedowntosleep.com.
This prayer has new meaning to me now, after meeting the next person we want you to know- an angel named Kim. Kim is a photographer who volunteers time with an international non-profit organization called "Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep" (NILMDTS, for short). Grace, who I introduced you to in "Grace and the Courtney Cares Boxes", contacted Kim to see if she would be willing to set aside some of her plans the day before Thanksgiving to take photos of our little peanut. Kim produced absolutely beautiful pictures of Courtney, some by herself and some with us. We are so thankful for her work! We have some other tangible memories of Courtney, but the pictures best help us tell the story of Courtney. Here are a couple of my favorites:
The prayer:
Now I lay you down to sleep,
I pray the Lord your soul to keep;
Within his arms he'll hold you tight,
My Heavenly Angel, My Guiding Light
This is my favorite picture of Courtney. The peace on her little face, and the lamb in her hands constantly remind me that while we feel the pain of grief and loss, she is at peace in Jesus' hands.
The feet on the background of this blog is also from one of Kim's pictures.
Not only were we given beautiful pictures, Kim also put together a slide show, set to beautiful music, of the pictures and some quotes. We are so blessed that NILMDTS and Kim were able to be a part of Courtney's time with us, and because of Kim's work we are able to share the beauty of our daughter with you. To learn more about NILMDTS, visit their website: www.nowilaymedowntosleep.com.
Faith and Strength
I had a great conversation last week with my little sister, Andrea. She and I were catching up on life, and the discussion turned to the day she got the call from my folks that Courtney was gone and we were waiting to deliver her.
Andrea mentioned to me that she prayed that losing Courtney wouldn't lessen the faith that I have in God. I shared with her, like I did in my previous post "I Will Carry You", that my first thought was to blame God for playing a cruel trick on us. I explained to her that my mind then went to 20 years ago when we lost my mom. I told her that I just don't know how else to get through the loss of a loved one without knowing that I will see them again in heaven. I simply cannot comprehend death in a final way; rather death to me is a changing from the earthly realm to being joined again with those who have gone to prepare a way for us. If I did not have the hope that I'll see my little peanut again, you would not see the person I am at this very moment. I believe that when it's my time to be called home that I will see Courtney again, and for the first time I will see life in her.
Andrea also shared with me that the strength she has seen from us has encouraged her. I need to share with you all that the strength others have seen coming from me is not my own. It's not. I am blessed to be surrounded with people that let me lean on them when I need to- friends, family, co-workers, and church family. I have a husband who is incredibly strong, and who wraps me in his arms when, for no apparent reason, I burst into tears in the kitchen. I have a dad who lets me be a complete mess while on the phone with him and tells me at the end of the conversations that he's praying for me. I have also felt the strength of prayers from others.
I also have a heavenly Father that lets me be angry with Him while He's holding my heart. Yes, I have been angry with Him, but I had a choice- I could either let the anger be the reason I turned my back on God, or the reason I rely on him more heavily. I made the choice to lay by burdens at his feet and see where they lead. This past Sunday the sermon in church was about the spiritual practice of prayer- Ask and it shall be given, seek and you will find, knock and it will be opened. The premise of the sermon was the importance of prayer in developing a strong relationship with God. The sermon reminded me of a lesson I learned a long time ago- God does answer prayer, but it may not be the answer we are seeking. Courtney's earthly parting from us was not what we were seeking, but being able to turn to God and share the hurt, anger, and sorrow is, for me, such an important part of opening myself up to hear from God what His plan is for my life.
My strength is not my own. I could not do this alone, and I am so thankful that I haven't had to. I have seen so many blessings, some little and some more significant, come from Courtney's time with us. These glimpses that we are not alone and that there is purpose in her life fuels the person that I am today. I am not the same person I was 7 months ago, nor 10 weeks ago. Courtney has changed my life, and she has impacted my faith in ways that I cannot explain, but it has also been the most significant "faith filled" experience I have ever had. Because of my precious Courtney I am a more faithful, greatly humbled, and thankful child of God.
Andrea mentioned to me that she prayed that losing Courtney wouldn't lessen the faith that I have in God. I shared with her, like I did in my previous post "I Will Carry You", that my first thought was to blame God for playing a cruel trick on us. I explained to her that my mind then went to 20 years ago when we lost my mom. I told her that I just don't know how else to get through the loss of a loved one without knowing that I will see them again in heaven. I simply cannot comprehend death in a final way; rather death to me is a changing from the earthly realm to being joined again with those who have gone to prepare a way for us. If I did not have the hope that I'll see my little peanut again, you would not see the person I am at this very moment. I believe that when it's my time to be called home that I will see Courtney again, and for the first time I will see life in her.
Andrea also shared with me that the strength she has seen from us has encouraged her. I need to share with you all that the strength others have seen coming from me is not my own. It's not. I am blessed to be surrounded with people that let me lean on them when I need to- friends, family, co-workers, and church family. I have a husband who is incredibly strong, and who wraps me in his arms when, for no apparent reason, I burst into tears in the kitchen. I have a dad who lets me be a complete mess while on the phone with him and tells me at the end of the conversations that he's praying for me. I have also felt the strength of prayers from others.
I also have a heavenly Father that lets me be angry with Him while He's holding my heart. Yes, I have been angry with Him, but I had a choice- I could either let the anger be the reason I turned my back on God, or the reason I rely on him more heavily. I made the choice to lay by burdens at his feet and see where they lead. This past Sunday the sermon in church was about the spiritual practice of prayer- Ask and it shall be given, seek and you will find, knock and it will be opened. The premise of the sermon was the importance of prayer in developing a strong relationship with God. The sermon reminded me of a lesson I learned a long time ago- God does answer prayer, but it may not be the answer we are seeking. Courtney's earthly parting from us was not what we were seeking, but being able to turn to God and share the hurt, anger, and sorrow is, for me, such an important part of opening myself up to hear from God what His plan is for my life.
My strength is not my own. I could not do this alone, and I am so thankful that I haven't had to. I have seen so many blessings, some little and some more significant, come from Courtney's time with us. These glimpses that we are not alone and that there is purpose in her life fuels the person that I am today. I am not the same person I was 7 months ago, nor 10 weeks ago. Courtney has changed my life, and she has impacted my faith in ways that I cannot explain, but it has also been the most significant "faith filled" experience I have ever had. Because of my precious Courtney I am a more faithful, greatly humbled, and thankful child of God.
"I Will Carry You"
One other song that I want to share with you is one that I found after we had Courtney's service.
I came across a You Tube interview with Angie and Todd Smith. Angie has written a book called "I Will Carry You: The Sacred Dance of Grief and Joy", and Todd is one of the members of the Christian group "Selah". Angie and Todd lost their daughter Audrey a couple of hours after she was born. They knew she would likely not live long because of issues discovered during a routine ultrasound at 20 weeks. They wrote a song called "I Will Carry You". You can listen to the song here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlDUkp1Ts8A
Here are the lyrics:
There were photographs I wanted to take
Things I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this?people say that I am brave but I`m not
Truth is I`m barely hanging on
But there`s a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this
So I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And I will praise the one who`s chosen me
To carry you
Such a short time
Such a long road
All this madness
But i know
That the silence
Has brought me to his voice
And he says
I`ve shown her photographs of time beginning
Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies no more teary eyes
Who could love her like this?
I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All your life
And I will praise the one who`s chosen me
To carry you
When I heard this song, like "Still" (subject of my last post), it resonated with me. One of my first reactions after hearing that Courtney didn't have a heartbeat was that God was playing a cruel joke on us. I wanted to be angry at God, but instead I found that I was drawn to Him in a way I haven't experienced in a long time, perhaps in 20 years. I found great comfort in knowing that Courtney was in the hands of Jesus, and that she was being shown heaven by my mom, and others who have gone before her. Now I find that I"m praising God for the blessing that Courtney has been in our lives. I'm praising the one who chose us to carry her, even for the short time she was with us.
I came across a You Tube interview with Angie and Todd Smith. Angie has written a book called "I Will Carry You: The Sacred Dance of Grief and Joy", and Todd is one of the members of the Christian group "Selah". Angie and Todd lost their daughter Audrey a couple of hours after she was born. They knew she would likely not live long because of issues discovered during a routine ultrasound at 20 weeks. They wrote a song called "I Will Carry You". You can listen to the song here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlDUkp1Ts8A
Here are the lyrics:
There were photographs I wanted to take
Things I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this?people say that I am brave but I`m not
Truth is I`m barely hanging on
But there`s a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this
So I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And I will praise the one who`s chosen me
To carry you
Such a short time
Such a long road
All this madness
But i know
That the silence
Has brought me to his voice
And he says
I`ve shown her photographs of time beginning
Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies no more teary eyes
Who could love her like this?
I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All your life
And I will praise the one who`s chosen me
To carry you
When I heard this song, like "Still" (subject of my last post), it resonated with me. One of my first reactions after hearing that Courtney didn't have a heartbeat was that God was playing a cruel joke on us. I wanted to be angry at God, but instead I found that I was drawn to Him in a way I haven't experienced in a long time, perhaps in 20 years. I found great comfort in knowing that Courtney was in the hands of Jesus, and that she was being shown heaven by my mom, and others who have gone before her. Now I find that I"m praising God for the blessing that Courtney has been in our lives. I'm praising the one who chose us to carry her, even for the short time she was with us.
"Still"
Music has always held a special place in my life. I was, after all, a self-described "band geek" in high school, I was in choir, and I have always felt a special connection to music, especially during difficult times. As I sit and write this entry my iPod is blasting in my ears... I can't sit still when I hear music- I either sing along, hum, or my toes and/or fingers start tapping.
It shouldn't then surprise you that one of the very first things I did when we began planning the service for Courtney was looking up hymns. In my online quest for songs that would help us tell Courtney's story through the service, I came across a list of songs that others have used in services for babies. On one of the many pages I clicked on that day was this song:
"Still" by Gerrit Hofsink
I’ve been waiting for you
For such a long time
You’re always on my mind
And I’m lying awake
Most of the night
Waiting to hold you tight
Now that I do
And look at you
My heart is breaking
This can’t be true
Chorus:
Lost you before I found you
Gone before you came
But I love you just the same
Missed you before I met you
On earth we never can
But in heaven we’ll meet again
Close to my soul
Close to my heart
Right from the start
Lost in time
Lost in space
Can’t wait to see your face
Now that I do
And look at you
My heart is breaking
I know it’s true
Chorus:
Lost you . . .
Sometimes I find myself wondering what to do
With this pain that I’m going through
But I know one day, God will take me away
And I’m coming home to you
And when I do
And look at you
My heart is healing
I know it’s true
Chorus:
Lost you . . .
Here is a link to the song on You Tube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSYvT-Qv_5w
We played this at Courtney's service. I think this song really represents the journey were are on. The part of the song that most resonates with me is the phrase "but I know one day God will take me away, and I'm coming home to you." I don't know how I could begin to cope with losing Courtney without the promise that I'll see her again. Our separation is only temporary, thanks be to God!!
It shouldn't then surprise you that one of the very first things I did when we began planning the service for Courtney was looking up hymns. In my online quest for songs that would help us tell Courtney's story through the service, I came across a list of songs that others have used in services for babies. On one of the many pages I clicked on that day was this song:
"Still" by Gerrit Hofsink
I’ve been waiting for you
For such a long time
You’re always on my mind
And I’m lying awake
Most of the night
Waiting to hold you tight
Now that I do
And look at you
My heart is breaking
This can’t be true
Chorus:
Lost you before I found you
Gone before you came
But I love you just the same
Missed you before I met you
On earth we never can
But in heaven we’ll meet again
Close to my soul
Close to my heart
Right from the start
Lost in time
Lost in space
Can’t wait to see your face
Now that I do
And look at you
My heart is breaking
I know it’s true
Chorus:
Lost you . . .
Sometimes I find myself wondering what to do
With this pain that I’m going through
But I know one day, God will take me away
And I’m coming home to you
And when I do
And look at you
My heart is healing
I know it’s true
Chorus:
Lost you . . .
Here is a link to the song on You Tube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSYvT-Qv_5w
We played this at Courtney's service. I think this song really represents the journey were are on. The part of the song that most resonates with me is the phrase "but I know one day God will take me away, and I'm coming home to you." I don't know how I could begin to cope with losing Courtney without the promise that I'll see her again. Our separation is only temporary, thanks be to God!!
Grace and the "Courtney Cares" Boxes
One of the most profound ways that Courtney has impacted us is through the people she has brought into our lives. We truly believe that God puts people in our lives when we most need them, and we're finding that we are put into their lives for a reason, too.
The first person we want to tell you about is a remarkable woman named Grace. Grace is the nurse who cared for us, cried with us, and prayed with us while we were in the hospital having Courtney. Grace helped us create the mementos we have of Courtney- including plaster hand and foot prints, a book of information and some snapshots, a hospital bracelet, and an outfit. They are so very precious and priceless to us because they are the tangible things we could bring home from the hospital, since we weren't bringing Courtney home in the way we had planned.
We have kept in contact with Grace since Courtney's birth, and she is quickly becoming a very dear friend. In early January she asked if we would help coordinate a memory box program at the hospital, one modeled after many other programs across the country. This is where the "Courtney Cares" box program starts. Where it goes from here is yet to be discovered. What we do know is that Courtney's life has given us the opportunity to share in this ministry at the hospital, and one that we can use to share with others how Courtney has impacted our lives. Through her legacy we have come to care, very deeply, about families who are unknown to us right now that will be affected by the loss of a baby.
We hope and pray that by providing memory boxes we are helping families create lasting and tangible memories of their babies. Each box is decorated and put together with love. We pray over each box before it is delivered to the hospital- we pray that the family that receives the box finds comfort, peace and strength in the journey ahead.
If you are a recipient of a box, please know that you are not alone in your grief. You are in our prayers, and the prayers of our friends and family all across the country.
For those reading about the boxes, please join us in praying for the families that receive one.
The first person we want to tell you about is a remarkable woman named Grace. Grace is the nurse who cared for us, cried with us, and prayed with us while we were in the hospital having Courtney. Grace helped us create the mementos we have of Courtney- including plaster hand and foot prints, a book of information and some snapshots, a hospital bracelet, and an outfit. They are so very precious and priceless to us because they are the tangible things we could bring home from the hospital, since we weren't bringing Courtney home in the way we had planned.
We have kept in contact with Grace since Courtney's birth, and she is quickly becoming a very dear friend. In early January she asked if we would help coordinate a memory box program at the hospital, one modeled after many other programs across the country. This is where the "Courtney Cares" box program starts. Where it goes from here is yet to be discovered. What we do know is that Courtney's life has given us the opportunity to share in this ministry at the hospital, and one that we can use to share with others how Courtney has impacted our lives. Through her legacy we have come to care, very deeply, about families who are unknown to us right now that will be affected by the loss of a baby.
We hope and pray that by providing memory boxes we are helping families create lasting and tangible memories of their babies. Each box is decorated and put together with love. We pray over each box before it is delivered to the hospital- we pray that the family that receives the box finds comfort, peace and strength in the journey ahead.
If you are a recipient of a box, please know that you are not alone in your grief. You are in our prayers, and the prayers of our friends and family all across the country.
For those reading about the boxes, please join us in praying for the families that receive one.
Welcome to Courtney's Story
Courtney Marie is our little angel, and this blog is her story.
We are Phillip and Kirsten. In July 2010 we found out we were expecting our first child, after 15 years of trying, hoping and praying. God was finally blessing us with the opportunity to be parents and we could not have been more thrilled.
The pregnancy with Courtney was uneventful. Morning sickness, aches and pains, and other normal symptoms were our way of life for 6 months. We were starting to set up a nursery for our little peanut (our nickname from the first day we found out we were expecting)- we bought a crib and dresser, ordered a glider,and were starting to purchase some clothes. Daddy had even bought Courtney her first camouflage!
On the morning of November 22 I felt Courtney moving, as she normally would while I sat at my desk checking e-mails, getting ready for a short week of work with the Thanksgiving holiday. Sitting on the couch that night she didn't move, which was unusual, as that was normally when she was most active. By the next morning, November 23, I knew something wasn't right. I called the doctor's office and they asked us to go in right away so they could check her out. That was when we learned the devastating news... Courtney wasn't moving and there was no heartbeat. We were 26 weeks pregnant.
We were admitted to the hospital for induction, and Courtney was born the following day, November 24. She had a blood clot in her umbilical cord. We were able to spend 6 1/2 of the most precious hours with her in the hospital, taking pictures, memorizing her face, and trying to figure out how to say "goodbye" when we had not had the chance to say "hello".
This is just the beginning of the story of our little peanut. In the following posts we will share pieces of Courtney's story, and how she has changed our lives forever.
Thanks be to God for our little peanut, Miss Courtney Marie! We love and miss you very much!
We are Phillip and Kirsten. In July 2010 we found out we were expecting our first child, after 15 years of trying, hoping and praying. God was finally blessing us with the opportunity to be parents and we could not have been more thrilled.
The pregnancy with Courtney was uneventful. Morning sickness, aches and pains, and other normal symptoms were our way of life for 6 months. We were starting to set up a nursery for our little peanut (our nickname from the first day we found out we were expecting)- we bought a crib and dresser, ordered a glider,and were starting to purchase some clothes. Daddy had even bought Courtney her first camouflage!
On the morning of November 22 I felt Courtney moving, as she normally would while I sat at my desk checking e-mails, getting ready for a short week of work with the Thanksgiving holiday. Sitting on the couch that night she didn't move, which was unusual, as that was normally when she was most active. By the next morning, November 23, I knew something wasn't right. I called the doctor's office and they asked us to go in right away so they could check her out. That was when we learned the devastating news... Courtney wasn't moving and there was no heartbeat. We were 26 weeks pregnant.
We were admitted to the hospital for induction, and Courtney was born the following day, November 24. She had a blood clot in her umbilical cord. We were able to spend 6 1/2 of the most precious hours with her in the hospital, taking pictures, memorizing her face, and trying to figure out how to say "goodbye" when we had not had the chance to say "hello".
This is just the beginning of the story of our little peanut. In the following posts we will share pieces of Courtney's story, and how she has changed our lives forever.
Thanks be to God for our little peanut, Miss Courtney Marie! We love and miss you very much!
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