it's how we make it (matthew 18:20)

the burning american question this weekend is how do people live after losing a child? i have to admit that i'm avoiding present-wrapping because i can't stop thinking about parents who have gifts under their trees for children who are no more. i haven't lost a child, but i believe it's the single worst event a human can face. my brother lost a child three years ago this week; i held a fifth-grader on the side of the highway ten days ago as she and her mother wailed for the crushed sister; and connecticut. oh connecticut. i wrote the piece below four days after losing my nephew.....it's how we make it.

the wind chimes, 
reminders of the futility of trying to stop time, 
played their merry tune 
even as the family gathered 
to mourn 
grief and her companion, exhaustion 
rode on their shoulders 
pressing them down 
making 
each step 
each word 
each breath 
labored 
but 
trudging through 
their new world 
their cameronless world 
their i-don’t-know-how-we’ll-make-it world 
they 
held 
hands 

always, always thanking him who gives all good gifts -

862. seeing my house in the daylight
863. the roches christmas cd
864. high school chorus concert
865. and middle school band
866. prayers of a nation for an entire community
867. and prayers of a community for a sick friend
868. texting with my husband (who hates texting!)
869. texting with my girl - we've been too out of touch of late....

linking with -

michelle for hear it monday, use it on sunday, ann for 1000 gifts, emily for tuesdays unwrapped,

joan for sharing his beauty, laura for playdates with god, jen for soli deo gloria shanda for on your heart tuesdays, emily for imperfect prose and kat for titus 2 tuesdays

on running and blooms and word

running this morning

head and hands uncovered

sixty degrees
balmy
christmas isn't supposed
to feel like this
flowers blooming
strand of lights out
a santa hand broken
and
christmas isn't supposed
to feel like this
neighbor dying
missing cameron
missing pops
and
christmas isn't supposed
to feel like this
but
even though
the air is warm
the flowers are blooming
some lights aren't twinkling
a santa can't hold a bag
and
loved ones are absent,
there is one
clear truth
the word became
flesh
and made his
dwelling
among
us
and
he will be called 
wonderful counselor
mighty god
everlasting father
prince
of
peace
and this is
christmas

linking with

jen for god-bumps
emily for imperfect prose
beki at the rusted chain for fingerprint friday

michelle for caffeinated randomness

studio jru for sneak peek friday

verse 19

462. reading to the three montana privettes!

james
the lord's brother
chastens...
be quick to listen
be slow to speak
i am usually
the antonym
chattering incessantly about the inane
restating my opinions
jumping in with stories
and
always always
seeking the laugh
and as i quickened my ears today
the words fell like rain
on
parched
soil

and for these i am thankful:

452. twenty-two years with my nephew cameron who left us two years ago
453. my brother, cam, who is serving our community in memory of his son today
454. students playing free rice to feed the hungry
455. wrapped presents
456. french roast coffee
457. christmas gifts from students - even some nutella!
458. cutting out heart biscuits with the montana privette girls (chris's nieces)
459. hearing little charlie (chris's nephew) try to say my name - kenling
460. my girl, the one i mentor, she is quick to listen and to forgive
461. my husband. he has loved me, does love me and will always love me:)

click here to read my latest inspired teacher article

linking with

michelle for hear it on sunday, use it on monday

ann for 1000 gifts

l.l. for on, in, and around mondays
richella for grace imparted
laura for playdates with god

jen for soli deo gloria
shanda for on your heart tuesdays
emily for tuesdays unwrapped

sometimes remembering makes me cry

writing for five minutes on remember

i remember when you were
born
my first nephew
the first of the cousins
i was in high school
and it was one of the
best events
and you grew
and you marveled us with
crawling, talking, drawing, playing guitar
and i still say
ahh poor wittle fella
like you said to your
little brother when he
cried
and i miss you
now it's
memories of your love for snow
now its
your sister writing
on your facebook page
i miss you...times infinity
i remember you
cameron
and it always brings a smile
even if it's
through
tears

for some great reads today, check out these ladies:

emily at imperfect prose

lisa-jo for five minute friday
beki at the rusted chain for fingerprint friday

michelle for caffeinated randomness

studio jru for sneak peek friday

here. april 9.

i assumed there would
be no gifts
on my nephew's birthday...
he's gone...
but
his father sees
power
in this day
and
his brother
sees a day
for
remembering
and
his sister

tells him to
celebrate
and
i thought
i had missed
the snow bells this spring
but
they're here

and more and more gifts that are god's:

130. dishes to wash
131. mother-in-law who washes the dishes
132. dirt on the floor
133. garden growing new
134. my girl, the one i mentor, trying so hard
135. robin song and bluebird nests
136. grandparents' love
137. hot brownies and cold ice cream
138. twenty-two years with cameron, my first nephew

linking up with:

michelle at graceful for hear it on sunday, use it on monday
ann at a holy experience for multitude mondays
jen at finding heaven for soli deo gloria sisterhood

avalanche

forgetfulness
leaking radiator
a stack of unpaid bills
piles of ungraded papers
three places to be at one time
scary blinking orange light on the computer
husband making preparations for a trip to ghana
trivial
buried under the
trivial
and i breathe heavy sighs
and i utter petty complaints
but i crawl out of my snow cave
to listen to my brother
and he speaks of
rainbows
and
steeples
and he chokes it out
it was
cameron and god
watching
from
heaven
and i'm undone

what love is this
that rescues
us
from
the
avalanches?

linking:

emily for imperfect prose
tiffani for word women wednesday
bonnie at the faith barista for the faith barista jam
christy for as of late
beki at the rusted chain for fingerprint friday
michelle for caffeinated randomness
studio jru for sneak peek friday
jennifer v. davis

gates

i was seven and at church camp with my family. camp susan barbour jones. i remember losing a tooth. my brother remembers a pool/swamp. he calls it the crappy camp. but i remember something else. a speaker. he was in a wheelchair, maybe? he had been to heaven. i perked up as he told his story of a car crash, being declared dead, going to heaven and being revived. i hung on every word. scripture isn't very detailed about heaven. maybe because we wouldn't be able to think about anything else if we knew it all?  i have to admit that i've had reservations about heaven. not that i don't want to go there, but i can't imagine not missing earthly things. and what if i get tired of singing? or what if it isn't real and i don't get to see family members? i feel like a horrible christian for admitting it.

i was intrigued by a human perspective on heaven then, and now, thirty-three years later, i still am. even though it's been out since 2004, i just read 90 minutes in heaven (on my kindle. which is awesome) by don piper. a truly compelling story not only of heaven but of courage and perseverance and faith. so, this guy, too, has been to heaven. again, a car crash, the pronouncement, heaven and revival. what i loved most was learning that he saw family members, didn't worry about earth, loved the music and felt an overwhelming sense of joy. all the time.

i told my sister and her daughter about it. they gasped. my niece's eyes lit up. she moved in closer. is it a true story? you bet, kiddo. we didn't say it, but we were thinking it - we'll get to see cameron and pops for sure. and there will be no more night and no more tears. and all things, all things, will be made new. (revelation 21 & 22) amen.

what are your thoughts on heaven?

hem us in lord

do you ever
find yourself
nearly in tears
i mean
ready to
hiccup drool honk wail
in wal-mart?
(or the mall, or target, or your favorite local grocery?)
yesterday
i seriously
believed
i would come
undone
if jack touched one more thing
or
when the right ham wasn't available
or
upon the traffic jam near cat food

grief had barged in

unannounced

what was it that made me

think of cameron?

ann voskamp wrote yesterday

about reading scripture in a

shanty in guatemala

she

needed a piece of heaven to steady her here on earth

i steadied myself

with
psalm 139:5-6
you hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.

hem us in
lord

Some great reads:

The Rusted Chain
Caffeinated Randomness
Moments of Whismy
Home Sanctuary

shoes to fill

My brother, Cam, wrote this last week. I want to share:

In Michael J. Fox's book, "Always Looking Up", he encourages his readers to immediately enjoy moments when our children desire our attention. Do not say "wait a few minutes, I'll be back". By then the polish will have worn off of their excitement.

In November, maybe around Thanksgiving, Cameron was keyed up about a new pair of hiking boots he'd purchased. I stopped what I was doing to listen to him explain how light, waterproof and supportive they were. He said, "Try 'em on Dad". I did. They fit perfectly and were just as he'd described. Nice boots, buddy.

No way of knowing this would be his last pair of shoes. On our recent Troop hikes in the Colorado Rockies, those were the boots I wore. Over rocks, through water and snow. Up the mountains he loved. And I thought; "Wow, Cameron, these are perfect". I felt connected to Cameron. Thanks, son.

I rested on a rock overlooking a beautiful, icy lake at 10,000 feet, surrounded by majestic, snow covered mountains. I'd stepped into the lake and soaked one boot, so I took off the boots to dry and reflected. As tears rolled down my cheeks, I told some scouts and leaders how much it meant to me to have taken the time to listen to Cameron that day and to try on his boots.

So I pass along this story, my friends, hoping that you may apply it in your life; to stop and listen to your loved ones as you can. Absorb their excitement; their interests, their love. Little is as important. It's worth it.

-Cam Finley

Linkingup with Beki at the Rusted Chain. Fits the theme....

sitting on my porch and thinking and sneezing

I'm sitting outside on my porch, sneezing my head off (allergic to April and May). While I'm listening to these birds that  sound like cell phones, the rest of western NC is visiting Wilkesboro's MerleFest - the largest blugrass festival east of the Mississippi. If you look closely enough, you can spot several pieces of poster board. While my brother was taking aerial photos, friends on the ground were spelling out his son's name with the board. We lost Cameron in December, and it's been so so hard. But right now, I'm thankful, thankful, thankful. Spring is beautiful, people are having a blast in the gorgeous NC foothills, and friends care about my family enough to make sure my brother knows Cameron lives on in so many memories. Thank you, Lord, for memories and friends and spring.

Coming soon - the story of an ill-fated mall visit in which I felt as if I was in a foreign country....

Linking up with Patty's Photo Blog Hop and Sunday Share at Moments of Whismy.

a tuesday in spring

i'm nobody, who are you?

pouring over poetry today
poetry pouring over me
langston hughes
walt whitman
maya angelou
nikki giovanni
king david
and
more
and
more
i am at once
joyful
bereft
enamored
jealous
homesick


My favorite of the day was an Angelou that made me think of Cameron.  I have not one artisitc bone in my body - words are my only chance at capturing moments, beauty, emotions, but Emily at chatting at the sky and Patty at finding serendipity grab it with their cameras in addition to their words. I am in awe. Check them out!

a sunset picture of cameron

april 9 (for cam & tt)

traveling this

rocky

road

i can't seem to find the right shoes

to keep it from hurting

today

will You carry

me?

what the wind knows

I'm thinking of my brother and his wife and two children today. I do every day, but today I'm thinking about them while I'm writing. They lost their twenty-two-year-old son on December 19, 2009. It still feels fresh to me, so I can't fathom what they are feeling. Yet they are standing. By the grace of God they are standing. I love them so much. Here's a piece for them.

50mph
today
is a
stareoutthewindow
day
snow covered roads
keep us home
but
the wind is
my true
captor
bending the trees
without
mercy
they try to
save themselves by
throwing off their
extremities
branches flying
hitting the
windows
today
is a
stareoutthewindow
day
the wind is
my true captor
trying to kill
the trees
they screech their
protests
echoing off the mountain
howling in the chimney
today is a
stareoutthewindow
day
the wind is
my true captor
torturing
the trees
they bend
nearly to breaking
but
will stand
at
the
end
of
the
day
today
is a
stareoutthewindow
day
i'm trying
to hear
the lessons
hidden in
the wind
how to
stand
at
the
end
of
the
day