tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65394777776862711542024-03-14T04:55:33.167-05:00Peace of My HeartOne mom's journey from burying a piece of her heart with her infant daughter to finding the true peace of her heart with her Savior.Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-18562563307354456322014-05-17T19:07:00.000-05:002014-05-17T19:07:01.945-05:00Remembering<br />
Oh, the remembering is hard sometimes. There are so many triggers, though some have changed over the last five years. Could it really be five years since our third daughter arrived?<br />
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I have many reminders of my youngest daughter. Some are still safely packed away after our move in December...the molds of her hand and foot done by the staff at Children's Mercy, her clothes and toys that I just couldn't bear to give away. Others adorn the top of my desk...her smiling sonogram picture, a treasured drawing done from one of my favorite pictures of Kristen, a stuffed bear wearing one of Kristen's outfits. And yet others I wear close to my heart, like the photo pendant made by a sweet friend and this new piece of jewelry:<br />
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In late March, I received an email from Hallie at Everlasting Memories. She'd seen my blog and asked if I would be interested in writing a product critique for my choice of a keepsake from their selection of memorial jewelry items. I was especially taken with their <a href="http://www.evrmemories.com/silver-heart-keepsake-jewelry-p/evr6402s.htm" target="_blank">photo engraved pendants</a> (a heart-shaped one, of course). It took me some time to go through my photos of Kristen. I wanted to find just the right one. I kept coming back to one I had taken just a couple of weeks before her surgery. We were on our way to the library, and I quickly snapped it as she wiggled in her carseat. She had her Pooh Buddy, and she was smiling. Unfortunately, the photo came out a bit blurry.<br />
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A couple of years ago, a sweet lady contacted me through CMH and offered to make a drawing of my daughter. She had lost a son and was reaching out to others who had lost a beloved child. I sent her the same blurry photo, hoping she would be able to work her magic on it. And she did.<br />
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When I contacted Hallie about the photo I wanted to use, I explained about the blurry one, unsure if it would work. I sent it to her, along with a photo of the drawing, so she could check with their head engraver. The next email I received from Hallie asked if I'd like any engraving on the back and what length of chain I preferred. I responded on a Monday, just before noon. The <b>very next day</b>, just as we were sitting down to lunch, the doorbell rang. My necklace was already here!<br />
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I don't think my photos do it justice. It truly is beautiful, and I've received a number of compliments on it. One thing that struck me about it right away is the weight of the pendant. It's not heavy, but it has a nice, comfortable weight to it. I got an 18" chain, so the pendant sits right next to my heart.<br />
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The timing could not have been more perfect. The necklace arrived the week before Kristen's birthday.<br />
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Thank you for your very personal and prompt service, Hallie. Thank you, <a href="http://www.evrmemories.com/" target="_blank">Everlasting Memories</a>!Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-79822140978105001562013-05-07T06:25:00.000-05:002013-05-07T06:25:00.944-05:00Mothering her<br />
Never is the mothering so hard as on her birthday. <br />
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In our family, the birthday girl gets to have the birthday wreath hung on the front door in her honor. She gets to choose her birthday meal and the flavor and design of her cake. It's a day to celebrate!<br />
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But what do you do when that birthday girl isn't here to make those choices? It doesn't seem right to NOT celebrate in some fashion. However, when that birthday is forever tied to a sad anniversary just 3 months down the road, it's just hard. It's hard to know what to do. <i><b>It's hard to push past the sadness to focus on the joy.</b></i><br />
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I don't get to mother Kristen the way I do her older sisters. Sometimes mothering those beautiful girls (a teenager and an almost teenager--need I say more?) brings me straight to my knees. For entirely different reasons, mothering Kristen brings me to the same place. It's all uncharted territory for me. None of it is the same. And I can't do any of it on my own.<br />
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And on days like this, when the tears flow so easily, knowing that she's perfect and whole and in the best possible place she could be just doesn't make the ache in my heart go away. I miss her with every fiber of my being.<br />
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But mothering her is how I push through the sadness. Every bear knit, assembled and shipped...every card sent...every GriefShare session led...every remembrance of someone else's loved one. These are the ways I can mother her. And just like the mothering I do for her sisters, I always wish I was better at it.<br />
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So thankful for God's mercy and grace, and for my Emily and Grace...and Kristen. ♥<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Happy 4th Heavenly Birthday, Little One.</span></i><br />
<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-88946479968646374772012-12-17T08:30:00.001-06:002012-12-17T08:30:15.222-06:00Hearts & Reminders<br />I miss Kristen every single day, but there are days when I just miss her more deeply. Those days aren't always the days one might expect. Seeing all the little ones in the Christmas program at church made that still-tender spot in my heart ache. I should have had another daughter up there to video. She would be 3 1/2 now, though I most often still think of her as a baby.<br />
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Recently, I received a precious package from "<a href="http://ahearttohold.com/" target="_blank">A Heart to Hold</a>." This beautiful ministry makes weighted heart-shaped pillows for families who have experienced pregnancy or infant loss. I requested one that weighs 6 pounds 14 ounces, the birth weight of my Kristen. When I first cradled it in my arms, I was surprised at how heavy it felt. I remember that little girl of mine seeming so light in my arms. It's all in what you're used to, I guess, and my arms have been empty for over 3 years now. What seemed like a feather at one time felt much different now.<br />
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Seemingly forgetting how she felt in my arms made me wonder what else had slipped from memory. So I found myself recounting her days with us, re-reading old Caring Bridge entries and facebook status updates. That's all fine and good until I get close to August 2009. At that point I find myself in a very sad place, a place I don't often go on purpose. Last night I came across the slide show my dear sister-in-law made for Kristen's service. It was beautiful, but left me feeling heartsick and in a puddle of tears.<br />
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The reminders that Kristen isn't here are everywhere. They are in her sisters' faces. They are in the picture frames that don't have new pictures to go in them. They are in the fifth stocking that hangs on the fireplace. They are in every little bear that is sent to a grieving family. They are even in the kitchen chairs. As we rearranged the living room after Thanksgiving to make room for the Christmas tree, I had to move our "God Bless America" bear that my father-in-law carved out of a log from a corner in the living room to a corner in the kitchen. That corner was previously occupied by one of the two extra dining chairs we keep near the table (but not at the table). Quickly moving it to a spot at the table, I didn't realize until I went to set the table for supper that we now have five spots at the table instead of four. Kristen was so little that she never had her own "spot" at the table. Seeing that fifth chair made me wonder if we would have had squabbles over which sister wanted to have Kristen sit next to her. Yet another reminder.<br /><br />
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The reminders can be tearful, but they are good to have. They make me feel closer to her. After the Christmas tree has been put away, and the living room has space again for the "God Bless America" bear, I may just leave that fifth chair at the table. Our family of five will never gather around that earthly table together, but having another spot there helps me picture what our heavenly table might feel like. <br />
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Any reminder of heaven is most definitely good for the heart.<br />
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-89979037403827146062012-08-04T21:41:00.000-05:002012-08-04T21:41:22.755-05:00A Different Kind of Hard<br />
Of the dozens of the Peace of my Heart bears that have found their way into the hands of grieving parents over the last couple of years, very few have gone to someone I know personally. Even fewer have been hand-delivered rather than mailed. I had an opportunity to hand-deliver one such bear to a new friend recently.<br />
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This sweet friend faced what would have been her dear child's 5th birthday. She remarked that she thought it would get easier, but it hasn't. She called it a <i>different kind of hard</i>. As I reflected on my own nearly 3-year journey, I completely get that.<br />
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The obvious heartache is there and always will be. What I hadn't considered before, and what's made my last year such a terribly difficult one, is the collateral damage of grief. The knowing that I'm not the same...and never will be. The not fitting into my old life. The realization that some of the people who were there in the beginning just aren't any more. The deep sadness of relationships that couldn't survive my brokenness.<br />
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As the next anniversary looms ahead, I deal with flashbacks...from the hospital, from the funeral, from the last conversations with my mom. I stay up too late because I'm afraid that sleep won't come quickly enough to keep those mind movies away.<br />
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There's a strange sense of relief, even a sense of accomplishment at getting through another birthday, holiday or anniversary. I'll be glad to be on the other side of August again. As much as I try to be all there for my family, there are times when I'm just not.<br />
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It truly is a different kind of hard.<br />
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-24379280563963059172012-05-27T22:26:00.000-05:002012-05-27T22:26:49.371-05:00Sometimes there just are no words...<br />
I'm not sure where my words have gone, but they just don't flow from my fingertips to the keyboard like they once did. I used to be able to pour out my heart here and feel a kind of release in doing so. My heart is in knots over lots of different things right now, and the words just aren't there.<br />
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Kristen's 3rd birthday was 3 weeks ago. We spent the day together as a family, remembering our littlest girl and making memories with our two older girls. <i><b> It's one of the most bittersweet days of the year.</b></i><br />
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In honor of Kristen's birthday, we sent 30 bears to Children's Mercy Hospital, to be distributed to bereaved parents as they reach the 6-month mark following the death of their child. No, it's not pleasant to think about, but the fact is that children die. They leave behind parents and siblings whose lives are never the same. Those families ache to have someone remember them, to remember their sweet child, months and years down the road. My hope is that the little knitted bear they receive will be a reminder that someone cares...and that God cares.<br />
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So many of my friends helped to work on those bears. Over the course of four months, they knit, stuffed and stitched. They donated supplies, time and food. They supported a cause close to my heart and supported my own broken heart in the process. The really beautiful thing is that, whether they know it or not, many of them continue to do so.<br />
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I will close with a collection of photos. Maybe they will speak louder than the words that seem to escape me.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5SpuZihn9kHZvd9Yhj_BOhhoeehKI3omye4BJvKtmGbvF1gvJs9msPE6EpUb2_Gbrcz17SZHz6CoXnQNYLOTL969DlYVsk8gF1Jb5LEQGrCy1Aemy4sYYzhi-mLGRpLCkPuKQ3aN2KPj7/s1600/IMG_0365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5SpuZihn9kHZvd9Yhj_BOhhoeehKI3omye4BJvKtmGbvF1gvJs9msPE6EpUb2_Gbrcz17SZHz6CoXnQNYLOTL969DlYVsk8gF1Jb5LEQGrCy1Aemy4sYYzhi-mLGRpLCkPuKQ3aN2KPj7/s320/IMG_0365.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our "Peace of my Heart" birthday cake<br />(Emily made the bear out of Rice Krispie treats;<br />Grace drew the dove from our logo)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kristen's birthday wreath</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Balloon release</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our matching wristbands read, "Forever in my heart"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kristen's tree</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfDkkfAdkFUGIftc9yF_2SW5ER6TOYbmaMDRcSTeNwxnab8qipzvRBMOIbFPWrYuEbhMOpdP2CIFH00PcXB-058HE9SWq1ZU6ew86lqrgXvK97Rhk6pyCFOnZqtUxYXfohbkbzPtANIKG2/s320/IMG_0485.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grace decorated my water bottle with the Peace of my Heart logo</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delicious burgers at a cute little place in Lindsborg</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSyFZBwrjBRuZUoXknbumuPquj8KM6SuTxx7QiE12YEleLJMhTz8Z8BRcSEb2ghlVvACAtZSsZdp_VneQehbO91I__wmN9XVEuxNGpLpfkRkq6AjwlZ_mPc-PBYHn__YjiflPDxU1GEZWN/s1600/IMG_0493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSyFZBwrjBRuZUoXknbumuPquj8KM6SuTxx7QiE12YEleLJMhTz8Z8BRcSEb2ghlVvACAtZSsZdp_VneQehbO91I__wmN9XVEuxNGpLpfkRkq6AjwlZ_mPc-PBYHn__YjiflPDxU1GEZWN/s320/IMG_0493.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near The Old Mill Museum</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the hunt for a geocache</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coronado Heights</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the bears before packaging</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The birthday bear I made for my desk</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bears for CMH</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More bears for CMH</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlg3BlYbCnUcp5s6RJGVKHRjpmVUXrnSBNXuSYqWZG-vc85Jbo1DJMOcUP61qVhw5OqcExLqy7pR3sRxRwwnm-1-pj2EJFE9M7FSKCc45ZrWSpN3SdtbTfw8BMU1aIDWsuvsI2iyULHw2/s1600/IMG_0470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlg3BlYbCnUcp5s6RJGVKHRjpmVUXrnSBNXuSYqWZG-vc85Jbo1DJMOcUP61qVhw5OqcExLqy7pR3sRxRwwnm-1-pj2EJFE9M7FSKCc45ZrWSpN3SdtbTfw8BMU1aIDWsuvsI2iyULHw2/s320/IMG_0470.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bears packed and ready for the trip to KC<br />
(Thanks to Bryan & Angie!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7CAx-buA0dqzDa_7E0zfm7LvAuHCvXGa_MbuSrrAb4nRzK8S8Qb8H9js9yC9sYbdqwCqYRKR0kITfWdo2n9pskLJLieOmPJfziCoVjmbTEk-N3ZMp9V5IMitD_UBy9gNiGNYnLsVHO6FL/s1600/Kim+005_edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7CAx-buA0dqzDa_7E0zfm7LvAuHCvXGa_MbuSrrAb4nRzK8S8Qb8H9js9yC9sYbdqwCqYRKR0kITfWdo2n9pskLJLieOmPJfziCoVjmbTEk-N3ZMp9V5IMitD_UBy9gNiGNYnLsVHO6FL/s320/Kim+005_edit.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2009 Memory Quilt<br />
1st Floor across from the CMH Chapel</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq8BGGTDcQr2UefupxoYId3p86zYtgUYV5uYWFEFyxhISYkor0hxj8LPB2I26MPpDj_rLC8rWKCK97ShJgdWo3VXlY7LFuG25TKoMLIqtyljsRfhyTlbVS_WScrNuo523WgVeeOcVW2D6t/s1600/Kim+004_edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq8BGGTDcQr2UefupxoYId3p86zYtgUYV5uYWFEFyxhISYkor0hxj8LPB2I26MPpDj_rLC8rWKCK97ShJgdWo3VXlY7LFuG25TKoMLIqtyljsRfhyTlbVS_WScrNuo523WgVeeOcVW2D6t/s320/Kim+004_edit.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love you, Little Stuff ♥</td></tr>
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-87395338880856017402012-03-22T21:34:00.000-05:002012-03-22T21:34:22.119-05:00A Precious Gift<br />
My waking hours are filled with many things...school,
laundry, meal planning, grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning. In all
that I do, there is always a hint of a thought nearby, the thought of
how different those things would be with a toddler in tow. I do my best
to be thankful as I tackle my "to-do" list. I am absolutely thankful
to have the means and opportunity to educate my children at home. I am
more than grateful that we have clothes to wear, food to eat and a roof
over our heads. Even so, it all seems incomplete. And it is. <i><b>Our family here is incomplete.</b></i>
I know that one day it will be made right. I have no doubt that all
that seems incomplete is still completely in God's hands. Yet, I still
am left longing for what will never be here on earth.<br />
<br />
It's perplexing.<br />
<br />
There
is an incredibly beautiful song that Nicol Sponberg recorded called
"Home." There are no lovely pictures to see in the YouTube video below,
but you can hear Nicol's heartfelt words. <i> (Nicol was an original
member of the Christian group, Selah. She is Todd Smith's sister and
lost her son to SIDS not long after Todd & Angie Smith's daughter,
Audrey, died just 2 1/2 hours after her birth. Nicol has walked a
difficult road; I find comfort in what she shares through her music.)</i><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">"HOME" by Nicol Sponberg<br /><br />What is it like to be held in the same arms <br />that hold the universe?<br />What is it like to sleep on the chest of the <br />King of heaven and earth?<br />When you open your eyes and look on the face <br />of the giver of life, the author of grace<br /><br />Do you know that your days here changed everything<br />You’re missed here and will always be<br />But you left here the greatest gift of all<br />‘cause our hearts ache for home<br /><br />What is it like to breathe in and breathe out <br />heaven’s glorious light?<br />What is it like to be robed in perfection, <br />no reason to cry?<br />When you feel on your face your Father’s kiss, <br />His welcome embrace, we prayed for this<br /><br />You should know that your days here changed everything<br />You’re missed here and will always be<br />But you left here the greatest gift of all<br />‘cause our hearts ache for home<br /><br />So twinkle twinkle little star, we will keep you in our hearts<br />Twinkle twinkle little star, we will meet you where you are<br />Your days here changed everything<br />You’re missed here and will always be<br />But you left here the greatest gift of all<br />‘cause our hearts ache for home</span></blockquote>
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I
am so struck by the line of the chorus that speaks to the greatest gift
being left with us...the yearning for our heavenly home. You left that
with me, my sweet Kristen. And as much as it brings tears to my eyes, I
treasure that very precious gift.<br />
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-44328488075179117402012-02-05T01:18:00.001-06:002012-02-05T01:18:42.736-06:00Bears & Blessings<br />
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If you've looked around this blog at all, you probably know a little something about the bears I began knitting after Kristen died. The knitting itself was very therapeutic for me, and I wanted to turn it into something that coul<span class="text_exposed_show">d
reach out to others. My initial plan was to make bears to send to the
chaplain at Children’s Mercy Hospital in Kansas City, who would in turn
send them to newly bereaved parents. I found, however, that the list
of bereaved parents that fall within (or near) my own circle of friends
and acquaintances is sadly much longer than I ever imagined. I’ve sent
out some bears on my own (and have a few more that I need to send), but I
still haven’t sent a single bear to CMH. As sweet and simple as these
bears are, they do take time to make!<br /></span>
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<span class="text_exposed_show"> <br />Emily and I began a
discussion after Kristen’s birthday last year about how we could honor
Kristen’s memory and reach out to others at the same time. As a way to do just that, I invited several friends to join us in making bears!<br /> <br />We are meeting as a group one Saturday each month (January to April) to knit and assemble as many bears as
we can. We will then box up all the bears and deliver them to CMH in time for
Kristen’s 3rd birthday on May 7, 2012.<br /><br />Our first session was a week ago, and I have to say that I was completely overwhelmed with the wonderful response. Two dozen people gave up part of their Saturday to help with making bears. A few were already knitters and went right to work on knitting bear parts. Those who don't knit jumped in with rolling skeins of yarn into center-pull balls. Still others learned how to seam garter stitch and stuffed arms, legs and bear bodies. Some worked on scarves of all colors and styles. One even offered to sew gift bags! The group ranged in age from 2 to 79. </span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show">I'd like to share a story about that 2 year-old.<br /></span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show">Little "Miss M" has a special place in my heart. She shares Kristen's birthday. In fact, the girls were born within a couple hours of each other to moms who went to high school together (and who both know the pain of losing a child). While I almost always think of Kristen as a baby, this special little friend gives me a glimpse of how big Kristen might be if she were still here. It's a difficult thing to explain, yet another example of where joy and sorrow coexist.<br /><br />I took a few pictures during our first bear-making session, but the scene I didn't capture with my camera is forever etched in my mind: I watched this sweet 2 year-old poke stuffing into a bear as her momma held it for her. She would quietly ask me if the bear needed more stuffing. I'd tell her, "just a little more," and she would add some, then we'd check it again. Precious, precious stuff.<br /></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span><span class="text_exposed_show">Watching moms and daughters working alongside one another, enjoying the wonderful fellowship of dear friends, and knowing that Kristen was being remembered so sweetly most certainly blessed me that day, and continues to do so.<br /></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span>Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-69538298719581342442012-01-01T23:30:00.000-06:002012-01-01T23:30:09.594-06:00He Makes All Things New<span id="goog_1717633216"></span><span id="goog_1717633217"></span><br />
I found this short excerpt from our family devotions book tonight rather interesting:<br />
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"God doesn't say he is making all new things. He is making all things new--in other words, he's making things better, fresher, brighter and stronger." <span style="font-size: x-small;">(from <i>One Year of Dinner Table Devotions and Discussion Starters: 365 Opportunities to Grow Closer to God as a Family</i> by Nancy Guthrie)</span><br />
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The holiday season of 2011 didn't come with the dread that accompanied those of 2009 and 2010. Oh, there were moments of sadness and tears, but <b><i>nothing</i></b> like I had experienced throughout the months of November and December the past couple of years. The emotional numbness this year was something of a gift of protection for a time, so I didn't realize the sadness that was welling up inside.<br />
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Maybe it's the attention placed on a new year...new beginnings, fresh starts. All that "out with the old and in with the new" stuff is especially hard for a momma who continues to struggle with feeling like her youngest daughter's been forgotten. I've found myself feeling very blue these last few days. I can't help but think of the new beginnings that were cut so short in our own lives. Having to learn to function again in a world that still feels a little foreign is a fresh start I'd just as soon not have to face.<br />
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My heart absolutely aches for the little girl who left my arms way too soon. I suspect it always will, but I know that God has a purpose for my aching heart. He wants to make it <i><b>new</b></i>, not in the sense of replacing something old, but rather in transforming it. He wants to make it better, fresher, brighter, stronger.<br />
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He's got my attention, and I'm actually beginning to look forward to what He has in store for the year ahead.<br />
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What does He want to make new in your life? <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXXD6dNTIcx4zyf0ZMjQyWRvY3WLV4r7ZE5kdtuYdSEyK2d0OrEIoAAwksvit1Mj0bCVGaRBxYPLnueUuWo2UlyPUEtPHGyBba4IwMHjIR4BgZ3VXaqOglZi2JreNikRloMYwf-qqNwMQ/s1600/Heart+signature.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXXD6dNTIcx4zyf0ZMjQyWRvY3WLV4r7ZE5kdtuYdSEyK2d0OrEIoAAwksvit1Mj0bCVGaRBxYPLnueUuWo2UlyPUEtPHGyBba4IwMHjIR4BgZ3VXaqOglZi2JreNikRloMYwf-qqNwMQ/s1600/Heart+signature.jpg" /></a></div>Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-64040809331031242632011-12-20T01:34:00.000-06:002011-12-20T09:49:25.681-06:00His Feathers<br />
As the weather grew colder in the first months after Kristen died, a sweet friend wrote to me that she wanted to get me a down blanket as a reminder of Psalm 91:4:<br />
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He will cover you with his feathers, <br />
and under his wings you will find refuge; <br />
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. </blockquote>
There's a comfort in that verse that has become more real to me this year. It is only through God's faithfulness that I am still standing. He's been my strength when I have had absolutely none of my own. The very verse that was shared with me in such love inspired something that I've been able to share with others, from those who have attended our local GriefShare: Surviving the Holidays seminars to friends who themselves have had to face the pain of saying goodbye to a loved one all too soon.<br />
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If you are in that place of wishing that it was January already; if these last weeks of holiday hubbub have left you with a feeling of dread rather than thankfulness or anticipation, I understand. This prayer is for you:<br />
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Dear Heavenly Father,<br />
Please let each one who needs it feel the comfort of your feathers, the warmth of You around their shoulders. Allow them to know the protection of your wings as You envelop them in your mighty and merciful way. Help them to allow your faithfulness to bolster them to withstand the storms. Calm their spirits and give them peace, Lord, the peace that only You can give.<br />
In Your Son's precious name,<br />
Amen.</blockquote>
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Despite good intentions, our last week didn't go quite as planned. Consequently, we only took part in the first three days of "The Happy Day Project." And you know what? That's okay! We brought smiles to some faces and reached out in ways we haven't before. And that makes me happy. :)<br />
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<a href="http://liferearranged.com/2011/11/the-happy-day-project-day-1-treats-to-a-neighbor/" target="_blank">Day #1 - Treats to a Neighbor</a><br />
The chocolate chip cookie dough I mixed up Monday looked good...tasted great...but resulted in some of the flattest cookies I have seen in a while. So, we kept it for cookie sundaes and delivered some warm pumpkin chocolate chip cookies to a couple of neighbors this afternoon. One was especially thrilled, and after asking Grace exactly why she had brought her these treats, happily exclaimed, "I love it!'<br />
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<a href="http://liferearranged.com/2011/11/the-happy-day-project-day-2-handwritten-note-day/" target="_blank">Day #2 - Handwritten Note Day</a><br />
I pray that our handwritten notes to the <a href="http://harriscreek.org/horn-updates" target="_blank">Horn family</a> bring smiles to their faces. We don't know them, but continue to pray for them daily.<br />
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<a href="http://liferearranged.com/2011/11/the-happy-day-project-day-3-giftcard-to-homeless/" target="_blank">Day #3 - Giftcard to Homeless</a><br />
We are fortunate to live in a community where the homeless are not just everywhere. I'm sure they are there, but we just don't normally see them. On occasion, we do see a family parked near the main drag through town holding a sign indicating that they are in need of work. We've always just driven by, wanting to do something, but unsure of how best to help. We are now ready to help as God leads. The glove box holds close at hand a couple of Braum's gift cards (for either groceries or a hot meal).<br />
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This project has definitely given me some ideas of how we might celebrate Kristen's birthday next year. Perhaps more importantly, it has sparked some wonderful conversations with my two older daughters, both about reaching out to others and about their baby sister.<br />
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Grace blessed me so much last week by sharing (completely unprompted) her memories of the last time she saw Kristen. She smiled as she talked of taking pictures of her little sister as Kristen slept. She spoke of waving goodbye to us as she and Emily drove away with their grandparents the day before we left for Kristen's surgery.<br />
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It seems this "Happy Day Project" resulted in some happiness I didn't expect. I am ever so grateful for it.<br />
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-37199236952697281222011-11-06T23:45:00.000-06:002011-11-06T23:45:30.185-06:00The Happy Day Project<br />
I came across "The Happy Day Project" today and wanted to share it here.<br />
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<a href="http://thehappydayproject.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="happy day" border="0" height="125" src="http://liferearranged.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/happydayrainbowsquare125.jpg" width="125" /> </a></div>
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Several months ago, as Emily and I sipped on frozen strawberry lemonades at McDonalds, we talked about ways we could remember Kristen's birthday. We had just "celebrated" her 2nd heavenly birthday with a family day trip. Keeping it simple and within our immediate family was what seemed right this year, but Emily and I both felt like we wanted to do something different next year.<br />
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We didn't come up with anything specific, but we knew that we wanted it to involve more than just our immediate family. We knew that we wanted to reach out to help someone else. Participating in something like "The Happy Day Project" and inviting our friends and family to join us is certainly a worthy candidate!<br />
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Whether we do this (or something like it) next year for Kristen's birthday or not, <b><i>I invite you to join us this week in "<a href="http://www.thehappydayproject.com/" target="_blank">The Happy Day Project</a>."</i></b> I can think of no better way to usher in the upcoming holiday season.<br />
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-83534766492906004472011-10-25T23:42:00.001-05:002011-11-03T16:10:29.968-05:00Now I see<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><br />I've experienced such a "light bulb moment!" </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: small;">In response to a question I posed to a friend (from the <a href="http://anchoredbyhope.com/bible%20study.html" target="_blank">Anchored by Hope online Bible study</a> I joined last fall) regarding what to do about grief-strained relationships, she related to me a situation of her own lost friendship. Her friend had been by her side, very literally, through the loss of her daughter. Because of that, so much of her daughter was tied into that friendship. Consequently, when the friendship ended, she felt that she had lost a piece of her daughter's memory.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: small;">For the last couple of months, I've been thinking (and re-thinking) about the hurt I experienced when I felt that two of my closest friends had forgotten my awful week of anniversaries in August. My feelings about the situation have run the gamut, from sorrow to anger and just about everything in between. I won't go into further detail about the situation, but suffice it to say that one side of it has gotten increasingly more complicated.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">I've wondered if I was being unreasonable in feeling hurt that these individuals did <i>nothing</i> to acknowledge that week in August. <u>Anything</u> would have been gratefully accepted...something as simple as a short e-mail, a text message, a facebook comment. But there was only silence, a silence that spoke volumes to me. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: small;">I've bounced back and forth from thinking that I must be a complete heel for having such expectations to feeling very justified in my disappointment. I've been mad...at others and at myself. I've held my tongue when I really wanted to lash out. I've had stomach aches over the repercussions of it all, lost sleep and shed tears of frustration. It was only after my Bible study friend put words to the anguish in my heart that I realized <i>WHY</i> this whole situation was so deeply troubling.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">In different ways, both of these friends were <i>very much tied to Kristen</i>...through my pregnancy, Kristen's birth, her surgery, her death and the aftermath I faced as my world seemed to crumble around me. These people are a part of her story, and their silence felt like part of that story had been ripped away. As I was remembering the loss of my daughter, I seemed to be losing (two different) parts of my connection to her.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">I fully believe God brought these friends into my life years ago. Is He now guiding the paths that once moved in tandem to places that are no longer meant to be together? Or is He simply using the situation as it's come to be to show me what I need to work on in my own life? I honestly don't have an answer right now. But I'm still listening, still seeking.</span></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> a stronghold in times of trouble. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Those who know your name trust in you, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>-Psalm 9:9-10</i></span></div>
</blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-69869562226970508892011-10-13T00:22:00.001-05:002011-10-13T00:22:53.868-05:00Changes<br />
There are changes we just expect. They come around again and again, signalling to us new growth, a new season.<br />
<br />
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Changes you don't anticipate, however, can certainly throw you a curve ball. Three years ago (nearly to the day), my life began to fill with changes I never expected...like finding out I was expecting baby #3. That news was completely unexpected, but such a beautiful, beautiful blessing. It set in motion many changes around our house...preparing our hearts to be a family of five...remodeling to make the best use of the space in our home. The anticipation, excitement and joy in the conversations with our older daughters was <i>absolutely magical</i>.<br />
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Unfortunately, unexpected changes aren't always happy ones.<br />
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Hearing the news from my doctor that there was something wrong with my unborn child's right lung was one of those changes. Visits to out-of-town specialists...weekly sonograms to measure the mass on her lung...conflicting reports about those measurements...such a roller coaster ride of a pregnancy.<br />
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Believing that the mass was gone after her birth, only to find that it wasn't, was not what we had expected or hoped for. Being thrust into a world of scheduling CT scans and surgeries was a change for which I was not prepared.<br /><br />
When I handed my 3-month old daughter in her tiny Looney Tunes hospital gown off to a nurse in the hallway that Friday, I had no idea that it would be the last time I would experience Kristen's beautiful eyes looking back at me. That change was unexpected. Unwanted. Un-everything.<br />
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Even today, the changes continue. Kristen's room has changed. The look of much of the house has changed (we've been doing some much-needed painting). Even the side of the bed I sleep on has changed. I knew that our schedule and routines around here would change with the addition of a baby to our family. I knew that a 4-month old was going to change the way we home schooled. Sadly, the changes to our school schedule were not even close to what I had envisioned. Instead of working out how to teach my older girls while caring for an infant, I found myself working out how to teach while grieving not only the loss of my daughter, but of my mother as well. Thankfully, a dear friend very graciously opened her homeschool to my girls for 2 months. It kept us from having to school through the following summer and allowed me some time alone to begin to process the many unexpected changes that I faced.<br />
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My world has not stopped since my daughter died. It certainly headed in a different direction than I anticipated, but it hasn't stopped. Changes. They're all around. Some are happy; others are heart-breaking. Thankfully, I have an unchangeable God. He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. Even when I don't understand the changes in my life, I know He is constant.<br />
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Most of the time, that's a comfort. In all honesty, however, there are times that knowing that just doesn't cut it for me. They don't happen all the time, but they are there...the occasional moments that are just utterly and overwhelmingly sad. More head and heart stuff. The knowing and the feeling just don't always mesh. Even so, He's still there, extending to me the grace to grow through the changes that continue to come. <i>Thank you, unchangeable Father.</i><br />
<br />
<blockquote>
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father
of the heavenly lights, who <b><i>does not change</i></b> like shifting shadows. -James 1:17<br /></blockquote>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjXZStl0IdiSYiNGNRsDgpF7H4VzmCh_1lGXMmA1xe6gsc0_0QJZjvETymCWyHThZXUwkpBdkWEh_L3d628H2NQHPeuEK2JS1DDaTu577JomYj1iQ481HtWK0wQ8kjgHXdK1ksmrdwH_BJ/s1600/Heart+signature.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjXZStl0IdiSYiNGNRsDgpF7H4VzmCh_1lGXMmA1xe6gsc0_0QJZjvETymCWyHThZXUwkpBdkWEh_L3d628H2NQHPeuEK2JS1DDaTu577JomYj1iQ481HtWK0wQ8kjgHXdK1ksmrdwH_BJ/s1600/Heart+signature.jpg" /></a></div>Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-34935469328925422002011-09-04T23:19:00.001-05:002011-09-04T23:19:56.090-05:00Missing God's will<br />
As I was going through some things on my desk in our classroom recently, preparing for a new school year, I found something I had written several months ago. I had neglected to put a date on it, but it was on a scrap of paper folded within a church bulletin dated January 23, 2011. <br />
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It begins, "<i>We will always miss God's will if we look from human eyes.</i>" Those words came from Pastor Kevin's sermon that morning and certainly bear repeating.
<i> </i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>We will always miss God's will if we look from human eyes.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'll include the rest just as it was written:</span></span><br />
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<blockquote>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">God often chooses unlikely people to help us through difficult situations. In the same way, He often does NOT use people we think He will.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some of the people I expected to be there for support after Kristen's death were quite absent. Oh, they were at her funeral, and some of them called a time or two in the days that followed, but they were not a part of my healing. Or maybe they were, just not in the way I expected.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Days that were especially hard for me --Christmas, Kristen's birthday, Mother's Day, the 1st anniversary of her surgery and of her death-- I heard nothing. In addition to feeling so sad, so hurt, I also felt forgotten. Selfish? Maybe, but absolutely real.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sadly, I allowed those hurt feelings to become a hard, dark knot in my already aching heart. Only in these last few weeks have I begun to loose that knot. I've had to do a lot of forgiving, time and time again. Only now, do I really feel like I've let those feelings go. </span><i><br /></i></span></blockquote>
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How timely that God would bring these words back to me now. After having gone through the hurt from family members months ago, I am now dealing with similar issues from friends. Not just any friends, but some that I considered among my closest of friends.<br />
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As I recently muddled my way through the 2nd anniversaries, I faced silence from some that I never expected. Days later, I let them know that I genuinely missed their friendship on such difficult days. In all fairness, the relationships have been a bit strained over the last several months, but I just wasn't willing to give up on them completely. One responded with a willingness to listen. The other, I'm not so sure about. There's a definite price to friendship with a grieving mother if you've not walked that road yourself. Not everyone is willing to invest.<br />
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I've no doubt been looking at the situation with human eyes. And in doing so, perhaps I've been missing what God is trying to show me. It's so hard NOT to <i><b>see</b></i> this with human eyes, to <i><b>feel</b></i> this in the flesh. There are just times when I'm more sensitive, more emotional. August is one of those times.<br />
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It's most certainly true that people I fully expected to "be there" just aren't. It's equally true, however, that people I didn't have an extremely close relationship with (or in some cases, much of a relationship at all) before Kristen died have been courageous enough to press into my life in a big way. Have they done big things? One in particular, yes, but most have not. The impact they have made in my life is big because they took a small amount of time on significant days to simply let me know they are thinking of me. Maybe it was a card, or a short e-mail, or a facebook wall post, even just a silent hug. I am so very grateful for those who have reached out to me (and continue to do so).<br />
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Grief is a very lonely journey. It's as unique as each individual and can often leave a person feeling very isolated and alone. And though loved ones are likely not setting out to hurt us, they do let us down, sometimes in ways that seem enormous.<br />
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I suppose it's fair to say that my focus has narrowed over the last number of weeks. In the midst of my humanness and painful anniversaries, I've neglected to keep my focus on the only One who will never, ever let me down. <i>My heavenly Father.</i> God has not failed me. He has not abandoned me nor forsaken me.<br />
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Perhaps the good He is bringing out of these most recent hurts is a reminder that He is all I need. It's a reminder that, in all honesty, still stings.<br />
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I do want to know God's will. I want to rejoice in seeing it accomplished. I don't want to miss it because I can't get past my human sight. I just feel very torn. It's almost like I have to choose between the <i>right-here-in-front-of-my-face</i> support of fallable people or the <i>sometimes-it's-so-hard-to-feel-that-He's-there</i> support of an almighty God. Wow. Just writing that out gives me a different perspective. It's a heart vs. head thing, I guess.<br />
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I remember writing very early on in my grief that I felt like there was a huge canyon between what I knew in my head and what I felt in my heart. That distance has narrowed at times, then widened again as I've journeyed through my grief. I guess it's just the way it is...the way it will be. The key to navigating this road in a productive way is keeping your eye on the Father. I'm so thankful that He picks me up when I stumble along the path, even if the reminders, like scraped elbows and knees, sting like crazy.<br />
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-64271011963130856992011-08-01T01:19:00.001-05:002011-08-01T01:19:25.878-05:00August<br />
Dear August,<br />
<br />
You are a month that is so very bittersweet for me. It was on your 22nd day that I became a mom 13 years ago. Having gone into labor at 35 weeks, I was so very scared. But my firstborn, a beautiful daughter, arrived perfectly healthy, and we became a family of three. August, we shared some great times. <br />
<br />
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Two years ago, you brought me devastating news, August. Twice. After having heard so many heartbreaking words from the doctors. "She coded during surgery." "She has no brain activity." We said goodbye to our littlest girl. Three months and ten days just doesn't equate to the lifetime I envisioned for her.<br />
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Then 5 days later, as we tried our best to celebrate our firstborn's birthday in the midst of such sorrow, I received news of my mom's death the day before. Really, August? You nearly crushed me that year.<br />
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Last year, you brought us Max. He's the black and white fluff ball of a dog that you brought to us as we reached the first anniversary of Kristen's death. The girls adore him, and honestly, he's been good for all of us. He's brought some joy back into our lives, smiles to our faces. Despite the occasional accidents on the floor, the trips to the groomer every 6 weeks, the mess he makes when he eats (because he takes a mouthful of food and walks a foot away from his bowl to eat it, leaving crumbs everywhere), and the wet beard he uses to mop the kitchen floor after he takes a drink, he's been very good for each one of us. <br />
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When I've been missing Kristen so much and the tears start to fall, he's there. Even though there are times I look at him and think that if she were here, he wouldn't be. And I'm glad (that he is), but I'm not (that she isn't). And I don't want to even go there. He lays on my lap and seems to sense all that's on my heart.<br />
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August, you now bring to a close our first year with Max and our second year without Kristen. I guess that's just what you hold for me. Happy and sad. Joy and pain. You bring the "stuff" that builds character...and leads to hope.<br />
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...but we<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-28051c" title="See footnote c">c</a>]"></sup> also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. --Romans 5:3-4</blockquote>
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Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-24843595389034089062011-07-24T23:53:00.001-05:002011-07-26T14:42:03.618-05:00Just one frog<br />
I've been working on cleaning out Kristen's room. It's been a difficult process, one that I've had to work through in small doses. Tiny clothes and blankets and stuffed animals have all been packed into plastic tubs. Special mementos have been stored for now. So many tears have been shed.<br />
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I removed the last of the wallpaper border tonight. The cute little frogs and turtles no longer dance their way around the room.<br />
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I picked out the crib set before we knew Kristen was a girl. There was just something sweet and calming about those frogs and turtles. There wasn't much girly about them, but they just seemed right. The set went perfectly with the light blue ceiling and yellow gingham wall treatment I had done for Emily's "Tweety" room years before. (One of the few hand-me-downs that Kristen got from either of her sisters was her room!)</div>
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I sat countless times in the rocking chair in Kristen's room before she was born, soaking in the soft hues of blue, yellow and green, praying that she would be okay. I had no idea that 2 years later I would be scraping from the walls the border that a dear friend helped me put up.</div>
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Her room is now my office/sewing room/craft room. I can actually leave the door open, and I don't fall apart every time I enter. My computer desk now sits near where "Peppermint" the rocking horse used to sit. I still have painting to do and more organizing of all the things that have found their way into this room. The room color is going to be a very, very light shade of green. It's called "Lil' Sprout." I was drawn to the color because it gave me the same feeling that the crib set did. When I turned the paint sample over and read the name, I knew it was the one. (One of my nicknames for Kristen was "Lil' Stuff.")</div>
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There's a section of the border tucked into my memory box, but just one frog remains as it was:</div>
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Some days, he makes me smile. Other days, he triggers an ache in my soul. Even so, just one frog stays.</div>
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I miss you, Lil' Stuff. ♥</div>
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Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-40176200352397552632011-06-17T23:20:00.001-05:002011-06-18T00:38:45.602-05:00Right Where I Am: One Year, Ten Months<br />
A while back, I came across a project at <a href="http://stilllifewithcircles.blogspot.com/2011/05/right-where-i-am-project-two-years-five.html" target="_blank">Still Life with Circles</a> that I thought was worthy of some serious thought. It's basically a look at where you are <i><b>right now</b></i> in your grief.<br />
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Wow. To try to nail down where I am in my grief seemed just too hard at first. Grief is such an ever-changing process, full of things that jump up out of nowhere and knock you down again. But as I thought it through, I realized the beauty of such a project. Taking a snapshot of where I am now (and even in the months and years ahead) will no doubt highlight some things that might otherwise be overlooked as one day slides into the next.<br />
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Right now, I am feeling the weight of all that makes no sense falling hard on my shoulders again. For the second time in just over two weeks, I've watched a friend bury her child. The first is a friend I've known for decades. Her third daughter shares Kristen's exact birthday. The second is a friend I met not long after Kristen died. My heart breaks for both of these women. I wish I didn't know the ache and the longing, the sadness and the tears, the brokenness that accompanies the death of a child. And I most certainly wish my friends didn't know, either.<br />
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And yet, here I am, now facing opportunities to live out God's Word in such a real way and so very close to home.<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><br />
<blockquote>
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in
any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. <br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
-2 Corinthians 1:3-4 </div>
</blockquote>
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In all honesty, part of me wants to run away screaming. It's just too much. These situations bring back a flood of my own memories and emotions. Even so, I feel stronger. I don't feel like the wind and waves of these storms bend me to the breaking point like they once did. I've been able to share with these mothers on a level that I've not been able to with even the closest of my friends. That in itself breaks my heart a little more.<br />
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Just this week, I led my first <a href="http://www.griefshare.org/" target="_blank">GriefShare</a> session. God, in His mercy, led me through it because I certainly didn't feel up to the task, especially given the fact that this particular session was one that dealt with the death of a child. It felt a little strange to be in the leader role rather than the participant role, but it somehow seemed "right."<br />
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I still get teary-eyed when I talk about Kristen. I just miss her so very much. No matter how many years and months pass, that will never change. In the same way, the God who gave her to me, the God who has caught every tear, He will never change. <i>He is good, all the time. All the time, He is good.</i><br /><br />
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-80702475737599764122011-06-02T16:14:00.000-05:002011-06-02T16:14:54.013-05:00Waves from a different storm<br />
Earlier this week, I attended the funeral service of a friend's infant son. There are many things that are just not right with this world, but burying a child definitely tops my list. I grieve with this family, even as I still grieve for my own daughter.<br />
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Like many aspects of life, grief has an ebb and flow to it. In its early stages, it can feel like a massive storm with waves crashing all around. It's hard to catch your breath before the next wave rolls over you. My own storm has calmed, but now I'm feeling the ripples of another's. It's not my storm, yet its effects reach deep into my own soul, bringing back a flood of memories and emotions.<br />
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The difference? I feel stronger now. <br />
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I remember a custodian at Children's Mercy sharing some words of comfort with us as we prepared to say goodbye to Kristen. I don't remember exactly what he said, but I do recall his kind words portraying so beautifully the very heart of 2 Corinthians 1:3-4:<br />
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<blockquote>
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in
any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.</blockquote>
<br />It seems that I have an opportunity to live out the last part of that passage in a very real way, a way that goes far beyond the words of any sympathy card. As I pray for comfort for my friend and her family, I also pray that God will minister to their shattered hearts. If I am an ongoing part of that process, I can think of no better way to honor both my daughter, Kristen, and the gracious Lord who gave her to me.<br />
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The pain of losing a child is one like I have never known in my life. Even so, it's been an avenue for knowing God in a way that I might never have known Him otherwise. Understandably, I know that is not what is on my friend's mind right now, but I pray that, in time, she will come to find that to be true in her own life as well.<br />
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-53258723877596518132011-05-11T22:23:00.000-05:002011-05-13T15:32:21.692-05:00Kristen's 2nd Heavenly Birthday<br />
I've wanted to get all the details of Kristen's birthday written down, but have had a hard time getting it done. The days leading up to May 7th were tough ones. Then to be followed so closely by Mother's Day...it left me emotionally tuckered out.<br />
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I'll start with something I ordered earlier this year...a <a href="http://www.babybeblesseddolls.com/" target="_blank">Baby be Blessed</a> doll. Ever since I found out about this ministry, I've wanted to get a doll for Kristen. Each doll is handmade and includes a scripture on its tummy. They have lots of colors and styles to choose from and are truly a joy to work with. Sweet Laura from BbB contacted me after I submitted my order to let me know that since it was a memory doll, they could include a photo or handprints/footprints along with the scripture patch. This preview was made into two patches to actually fit on the doll:<br />
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I love that Kristen's name and the scripture form a heart shape. The doll is just precious, too.<br />
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My oldest daughter is an amazing combination of technical and creative. She folded a garden full of tiny purple origami tulips and arranged them in the shape of a 2 for Kristen's birthday. After adding some fun effects to the photo, she included it in a collage print to frame as a surprise for the rest of the family.<br />
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Then she created a Basic program on her computer that, pixel by pixel, spelled out "Happy Birthday Kristen" and played the birthday song. <br />
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I was very touched to have a friend of Grace's bring me this pretty yellow rose in honor of Kristen's birthday.<br />
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Her mom sent a yummy cheesecake to work for us to enjoy during our Wednesday afternoon staff meeting. It was such a thoughtful thing to do! Though the flower and the cheesecake are both gone, they remain a beautiful reminder of how loved we are and that Kristen is not forgotten.<br />
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I was finally able to get the pink geraniums planted around Kristen's tree a couple of days before her birthday. In all honesty, geraniums have never been my favorite flower, but I wanted to have something pink around her tree that would look pretty on her birthday and continue to bloom throughout the summer. Geraniums fit the bill! The ones I planted last year were a solid pink. We went with a "designer" variety this year that are two-toned.<br />
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We woke Saturday morning to find a birthday balloon, some yellow and pink potted daisies and a beautiful stained glass purple solar light around Kristen's tree. I made a pink and white balloon wreath for the tree and hung it at 6:25 a.m. - the exact time of her birth. Someone brought a lovely bouquet by sometime while we were gone. The little tree looked beautiful!<br />
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The four of us released some bright pink balloons a little later. It was a beautiful morning, with just enough breeze to take the balloons up and away with a few notes.<br /><br />
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We headed to Tanganyika Wildlife Park in Goddard, KS for a family day. We enjoyed seeing and interacting with a variety of animals, from penguins and armadillos to kangaroos and kookaburras. Grace fed a giraffe and a ring-tailed lemur, and Emily rode a camel. We drove out by Lake Afton and watched some remote control airplanes for a while. They even have a landing strip for them. We capped off the day with a delicious meal at Carriage Crossing in Yoder with my dad and step-mom.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little guy loved the craisins Grace fed him.<br />
He even grabbed her hand!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camels are good at bumpy rides...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This giraffe loved lettuce leaves.</td></tr>
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Since we were gone most of the day (and had splurged on dessert at Carriage Crossing), we decided to hold the birthday treats over to Sunday. Will's parents joined us at church, then came back to the house for lunch. Will's younger sister and her family joined us, too, and we enjoyed BBQ brisket, baked potatoes, sweet green bean bundles and Mel's yummy pea salad, all followed by birthday cake and bread pudding.<br />
<br />
We are a family of chocoholics. The requests for birthday cakes are <i><b>always</b></i> for chocolate cake. For whatever reason, though, whenever I think of Kristen's cake, it's always white cake. I frosted the two round layers with bright pink buttercream frosting, trimmed them in white and added a big monogram-type "K" to the center. It was a new cake recipe (definitely one I will make again), and it turned out beautifully. And I didn't get one single picture of it!<br />
<br />
Bread pudding is also a "must-do" tradition for Kristen's birthday. I'll save that story for another post, but suffice it to say that bread pudding makes me smile.<br />
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By the time Sunday evening arrived, I was feeling an odd sense of relief at having made it through another of Kristen's birthdays and another Mother's Day, too. The days before had been such hard ones. The highs were not especially high, but the lows were extremely low. Extremes and tears at nearly every turn. <b><i>And God continues to be faithful.</i></b> He provided comfort, yet again, through loved ones who remembered us, and remembered Kristen. The support of my dear Respite Retreat friends was (and is) such a blessing. The sweet thoughts and prayers from friends that I've never even met in person are like a warm embrace. Thank you, one and all.<br />
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<blockquote>
Dear Sweet Kristen, <br />
<br />
I don't know what birthdays in heaven are like. Every day is beautiful and perfect, so maybe birthdays are just like any other day there. Here, however, your birthday is a tough one for me. I know it's a celebration of your birth, and that is absolutely a joyous occasion. But that joyous day has a line attached to the saddest day of my life. It's like a beautiful balloon with an ugly weight tied to it. Though I can't separate them, I can set my eyes on that balloon. You taught so many of us to look up, Little One. I'm doing my best to follow your lead. <br />
<br />
All my love, Mommy<br />
<span id="goog_845847409"></span><span id="goog_845847410"></span></blockquote>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjXZStl0IdiSYiNGNRsDgpF7H4VzmCh_1lGXMmA1xe6gsc0_0QJZjvETymCWyHThZXUwkpBdkWEh_L3d628H2NQHPeuEK2JS1DDaTu577JomYj1iQ481HtWK0wQ8kjgHXdK1ksmrdwH_BJ/s1600/Heart+signature.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjXZStl0IdiSYiNGNRsDgpF7H4VzmCh_1lGXMmA1xe6gsc0_0QJZjvETymCWyHThZXUwkpBdkWEh_L3d628H2NQHPeuEK2JS1DDaTu577JomYj1iQ481HtWK0wQ8kjgHXdK1ksmrdwH_BJ/s1600/Heart+signature.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br />
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
<img alt="" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=018bb61e-ee44-4633-996f-72fed93da8af" style="border: none; float: right;" /></div>Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-92035673052811914022011-05-04T00:00:00.000-05:002011-05-04T00:00:47.234-05:00Focus<br />
There are still days that I feel utterly stunned over the events of the last couple of years. There are moments that it all seems so unreal, like a bad dream. A really, really bad dream. Yet, I know all too well the very sad reality of missing my youngest daughter every minute of every day.<br />
<br />
I made it through her first birthday without her, and now I face her second one on Saturday. And I'm still having trouble keeping a wider angle on my perspective. When I stay focused on my hurts, they sting all the more. It's only in pulling back and looking at the bigger picture that I feel any lightening of my spirit, any joy. I'm able to do that, but I'm having a hard time <i><b>keeping</b></i> it there. I feel like I have a faulty zoom lens...it goes in, and stays, and stays, zooms out briefly, then goes right back in again.<br />
<br />
I'm sad that she's not here to celebrate with us, to tell me what kind of cake she would like, to delight in the balloons and decorations, to smile and pose for pictures with her sisters. It breaks my heart that we have to celebrate another birthday without her. It's just not the same. And it hurts. <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i></i><span style="font-size: small;">As overwhelming and painful as it is,</span><i> that's the small picture.</i></span><br />
<br />
She gets to celebrate every single day in the glorious presence of our Lord and Savior! Oh, the beauty that surrounds her! Anything I could ever imagine absolutely pales in comparison to what she's experiencing. She's perfect and happy right where she is. <span style="font-size: large;"><i><br />That's the big picture.</i></span><br />
<br />
Why is it so hard to stay focused on THAT picture? It's certainly one that is full of happiness and joy, rather than sorrow and tears. It's a struggle, one that I feel I'm on the losing end of most of the time. Perhaps I've gotten lax in my grieving. It requires one to be very intentional in many areas. If I'm completely honest, I have to say that <i>I don't always make the effort</i>.<br />
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I'm working on that. I pour out my heart to God knowing full well that He understands like no one else can. I'm praying for His strength and for patience as I figure out how to work this lens. He's a willing instructor just waiting for His student to be teachable. And it's hard to be teachable when your focus is off.<br />
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-8925995078464147192011-04-17T00:31:00.000-05:002011-04-17T00:31:37.053-05:00Terrible yet beautiful<br />
As Kristen's 2nd birthday approaches, I'm finding myself on that wild emotional roller coaster ride again. The life I anticipated two years ago and the life I have today are miles and miles apart. My reality today is a family of five that looks like a family of four. Though I get to experience the joys and trials of two pre-teen daughters on a daily basis, I am missing the would-be antics and cuteness of a toddler who would no doubt be trying her best to run the show around here. With a soft-hearted daddy and two doting older sisters, I can only imagine how full my hands would be!<br />
<br />The second year of a child's life can be a challenge for some. We've all heard of the "terrible twos." With my older girls, however, I really didn't find that to be true. <i>In all honesty, these pre-teen years have been much more of a challenge.</i><br />
<br />
Maybe I've been going through my own "terrible twos." I began my second year without Kristen last August, and I have to say it hasn't been at all easy. In some ways, it's been much harder than the first year. The missing has been very intense and the alone-ness more pronounced. I've grown very weary during parts of this ongoing journey and have allowed doubts to creep in. Rather than being "quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry" (James 1:19), I've done just the opposite.<br />
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I have, however, learned some important things about myself and about God. <br />
<br />
I've discovered that it's easy to place expectations on people and that it leads disappointment every time. <i><b>The only one who will never let me down is God.</b></i> And as much as I know that what I just wrote is true, there have still been moments when I questioned Him. Even so, He's still there for me, loving me despite myself. <br />
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I've learned that it's easy to justify hanging onto old hurts, but it's only in turning them over to God (and leaving them in His care) that one can truly heal.<br />
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Though this learning process is terrible and painful, it's somehow beautiful, too. I've experienced a depth of God's love that my life before Kristen did not include. Some days it's harder to see that beauty, but remembering what Christ did on the cross for all of us helps me to put things into proper perspective.<br />
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This song, "<i>Beautiful Terrible Cross</i>," (recorded by Selah) speaks to my heart about the ultimate beauty from pain and reminds me that my situation pales in comparison. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>There is a beautiful terrible cross<br />
Where though You committed no sin<br />
Savior, You suffered the most wicked fate<br />
On the cruelest creation of men<br /><br />
Yet on that beautiful terrible cross</i>
<i><br />
You did what only You could<br />
<b>Turning that dark inspired evil of hell<br />
Into our soul's greatest good</b><br /><br />
We see the love that You showed us</i>
<i><br />
We see the life that You lost<br />
We bow in wonder and praise You<br />
For the beautiful terrible cross<br /><br />
There on that beautiful terrible cross</i>
<i><br />
Though darkness was strong on that hill<br />
<b>You remained sovereign, Lord, still in control<br />
As Your perfect plan was fulfilled</b><br /><br />
We see the love that You showed us</i>
<i><br />
We see the life that You lost<br />
We bow in wonder and praise You<br />
For the beautiful terrible cross<br /><br />
Oh, we gained the riches of Heaven</i>
<i><br />
Jesus, You paid the horrible cost<br />
We stand forgiven and praise You<br />
For the beautiful terrible cross<br />
For the beautiful terrible cross<br /><br />
In the cross, in the cross</i>
<i><br />
Be my glory ever<br />
Till my raptured soul shall find<br />
Rest beyond the river<br /><br />
Beautiful cross</i>
<i><br />
Terrible cross<br />
Beautiful cross<br />
Terrible cross</i></div>
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<br />
Only the Almighty God could turn something so awful into our ultimate good. I am ever grateful that He loves us so much.<br />
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<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
<img alt="" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=9f097414-82a0-47a5-8150-f21d81ec4904" style="border: none; float: right;" /></div>Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-24550820609715166932011-03-08T20:03:00.000-06:002011-03-08T20:03:46.886-06:00A delicate balance<br />
There is just so much sorrow in the missing. It's the missing that makes my heart ache. I miss her tiny voice, her wiggles, her legs that always seemed to be in motion, her sweet smile (with an occasional hint of an ornery grin). I miss her fuzzy little head, that beautiful baby scent, the feel of her snuggled into my arms. I miss her eyes, those amazing eyes. I just miss her. The sad irony is that I not only miss all of these things that were wrapped up into three months, I miss the things I <i><b>didn't</b></i> get to experience with Kristen. Perhaps even more than I miss what I had, I ache for what will never be.<br />
<br />
As much sadness as there is in the missing, however, <span style="font-size: large;">there is even more hope in the knowing!</span> What sustains me is the knowing that none of what happened to our family is a surprise to God. He is God and I'm not. He knows what He's doing! I take comfort in the knowing that Kristen left our arms for the eternal safety of His. She's perfect and in His presence! There is hope in the knowing that our heavenly Father will make all of this right one glorious day!<br />
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In the here and now, the missing tends to get in the way of remembering the knowing. The waves that wash over me sometimes crash so loudly against the shore that I can barely hear His voice. I know, however, that it's there. He's there. The knowing is never gone. I suppose the missing and the knowing, like the sorrow and the joy, will always be part of a delicate balancing act. For the times when I lose that balance, I am so thankful for the Almighty who is always there to catch me.<br /><br />
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-13112817282566242962011-02-26T23:30:00.000-06:002011-02-26T23:30:26.810-06:00God met me in Tennessee<br />
I purposely did not write before we left about the retreat my husband and I recently attended, not because it was any big secret, but because I wasn't sure what to write. The few weeks before we left had been especially hard for me for a myriad of reasons. Preparing to be away from home for several days and making arrangements for my older daughters brought back memories of doing the same as we prepared for Kristen's birth, then doing it again just 14 weeks later as we prepared for her surgery. My heart was just heavy as I missed my baby girl. And, of course, there was some anxiety about the long trip and uncertainties of what to expect at the retreat.<br />
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When February 16th rolled around and we prepared to leave, I was <i><b>so</b></i> ready for a change of scenery. I looked forward to some time away with my husband. Even so, I cried as we left the girls at my sister-in-law's house. I knew they would have fun and would be well cared for, but the tears came anyway. On our way through Kansas City, we drove near the same route we had taken to Children's Mercy a year and a half ago, and the tears came again. I hadn't thought through the fact that we would be driving that near to CMH. It caught me completely off-guard and melted me into a puddle.<br />
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Being able to meet Wendy, one of my "Kristen friends" (people I would never have met had it not been for Kristen), the next night was such a sweet blessing. This dear lady was my phone nurse during my pregnancy. We spoke every month, and despite the fact that she could have been fired for telling me so, she prayed for me and for my baby during those uncertain months before Kristen arrived. She grieved the loss of my daughter with me when she learned of Kristen's death. We've stayed in touch via e-mail since, and it was such a wonderful joy to get to meet this sweet lady in person.<br />
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We drove the next afternoon to "The Hiding Place," a very aptly named lodge located northwest of Nashville. This beautiful facility would be "home" for the next couple of days for us and 11 other couples. The common thread? We each have experienced the death of a child.<br />
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We shared our stories and our hearts, lots of tears, gentle hugs, even laughter. Our stories are all different. Our children range in age from infant to young adult. We come from different parts of the country. Some had watched their children battle illnesses, others had been struck by sudden tragedy. For some, it had been years; for others, only months. Some had packed a lifetime into a few short weeks, others were caught completely unaware. All were left with shattered hopes and dreams. None of us ever pictured ourselves on this road. It's a road certainly no one wants to be traveling. We found a strange comfort in sharing the burdens of our hearts with people who understand. After feeling like a stranger in a strange land for so long, I felt safe and secure in this place where everyone there "gets" what I'm going through. We left with renewed spirits, with hope, with e-mail addresses for our 22 new friends and one last bite of some amazing chicken enchiladas. :)<br />
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Our new friend, Jon, summed it up so wonderfully: <i><b><br />"It's the best retreat you never want to go to."</b></i><br />
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<a href="http://www.nancyguthrie.com/about/">David & Nancy Guthrie</a> were our hosts for this <a href="http://www.nancyguthrie.com/retreats/">Respite Retreat</a>, the fifth one they've organized. They've been on this road longer than the rest of us and have used their own sorrow to reach out and minister to others. The Guthries are amazing...a beautiful couple we are so blessed to have met.<br />
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The weekend was truly a respite for me. I am grateful for the opportunity to attend, for a husband who drove all 1700+ miles himself, for the fellowship with new friends, and for the many ways God met me in Tennessee.<br />
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<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
<img alt="" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=442d6220-df85-4e27-a630-43525e9df8f2" style="border: medium none; float: right;" /></div>Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-8337909228772109342011-02-12T17:10:00.005-06:002011-02-13T16:32:50.601-06:00Dying to self<i><br />I don't know if these thoughts make any sense together, but they've been on my heart for several days now. The last couple of Sundays have been doozies! I'm praying for a gentler day tomorrow...</i><br />
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<br /></div>
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The sudden deaths of both Kristen
and my mom were events for which I was not prepared. They were not wanted
or welcomed, but rather thrust upon me in heartbreaking succession. I am
not silly enough to think that I am, or ever was, in control—I know Who is,
and it’s not me. My recent frustrations are <i><u>not</u></i> the result of trying to exert control over anything in my turned-upside-down life. Rather, I
think that they are directly related to a heightened sensitivity to order. I am
(mostly) an organized person, but I’m not a fanatic about it. I don’t have to have my finger on every tiny detail, but I do like to know what’s
going on. I like to be "in the loop."</div>
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My involvement with many things outside of home and (home) school has
been scaled back a lot over the last couple of years. Initially, it was
due to a difficult pregnancy, then because I had a new baby, then there was the
anticipation of Kristen’s surgery, then her subsequent death. It's been a
blur of emotional events. I am grateful for others who were (and still are) so very willing and capable to take up my slack. As I’ve tried to
work my way back into the swing of things, I have felt much like an outsider –
a puzzle piece that no longer fits. I suppose that’s to be
expected. I am not the person I was two years ago.</div>
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Perhaps because I've felt like I had so little order (or at least, not the order of my choosing) in my life over these past
17 months, I seem to be seeking it all the more. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Last Sunday morning, my pastor referenced the following text from John MacArthur's writing:</div>
<blockquote>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“When you are forgotten or neglected
or purposely set at naught, and you sting and hurt with the insult of the
oversight, but your heart is happy, being counted worthy to suffer for
Christ—that is dying to self. <br /><br />When your good is evil spoken of, when your wishes
are crossed, your advice disregarded, your opinions ridiculed and you refuse to
let anger rise in your heart, or even defend yourself, but take it all in
patient loving silence—that is dying to self. <br /><br />When you lovingly and patiently
bear any disorder, any irregularity, or any annoyance, when you can stand face
to face with waste, folly, extravagance, spiritual insensibility, and endure it
as Jesus endured it—that is dying to self. <br /><br />When you are content with any food,
any offering, any raiment, any climate, any society, any attitude, any
interruption by the will of God—that is dying to self. <br /><br />When you never care to
refer to yourself in conversation, or to record your own good works, or itch
after commendation, when you can truly love to be unknown—that is dying to
self. <br /><br />When you see your brother prosper and have his needs met and can honestly
rejoice with him in spirit and feel no envy nor question God, while your own
needs are far greater and in desperate circumstances—that is dying to self.
<br /><br />When you can receive correction and reproof from one of less stature than
yourself, can humbly submit inwardly as well as outwardly, finding no rebellion
or resentment rising up within your heart—that is dying to self.” —Anonymous</span></i></div>
</blockquote>
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<br />
Based on just the first part of that, I have a very long way
to go in dying to self. Even last week, I was stung and hurt with the insult of an oversight
and my heart was NOT happy. Following times when I have taken things in patient
(though not necessarily loving) silence, I HAVE let anger rise in my heart.
That anger was a temporary guest, but one that seems to return now and again.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This molding of me that God is doing is very uncomfortable,
even painful at times. It would certainly seem that losing my daughter is loss
enough; also losing the "me" I knew seems to add insult to injury. I know it
must be necessary, but oh, is it hard.<br />
<br />
I know it won't always feel this way. This heaviness in my heart won't always be such a shroud over me. I am trying to see the joy and embrace the beauty in my life, I really am. And I see glimpses. I'm just missing my youngest daughter so very much right now.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicLko2eugmYr_tYudLotUkYyEXTzc4Li9qR5Iy8uTqlEPbfBxvSxeGLCjPGrSYYDRfaBsEIpPXVJlN0IakMCYDslTemZ8RXfygRHBDMc1xVOtMe7utDiYm9xUgqfp-Uoc63VdtKtQI6Bpo/s1600/Heart+signature.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicLko2eugmYr_tYudLotUkYyEXTzc4Li9qR5Iy8uTqlEPbfBxvSxeGLCjPGrSYYDRfaBsEIpPXVJlN0IakMCYDslTemZ8RXfygRHBDMc1xVOtMe7utDiYm9xUgqfp-Uoc63VdtKtQI6Bpo/s1600/Heart+signature.jpg" /></a></div>Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6539477777686271154.post-9850792121659297222011-02-04T22:32:00.001-06:002011-02-04T22:36:22.225-06:00Tightly in His grasp<br />
I truly appreciate all the comments and personal messages that my <a href="http://peaceofmyheart-kristen.blogspot.com/2011/02/through-anothers-eyes.html">last post</a> prompted. Each one has given me things to think about. I've spent much of this week praying and pondering the conversation that caused me to wonder if I was truly relying on God as I should be.<br />
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As much as my life sometimes feels out of control, I know Who holds my hand through it all. I am grateful for a heavenly Father who cares for me in spite of myself, who continues to love me in my most unlovable moments, who never tires of listening to me.<br />
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Much of what I heard from you sweet ladies is nothing I haven't heard before. Goodness, I've even written about it myself! I guess I just needed to be reminded. There are, indeed, <i><b>many</b></i> layers of grief, and no one's journey through them is exactly like anyone else's. No one, no matter how prettily they package it, can tell me how I should be doing this. Even the most well-intentioned words can cause pain. It's when they come from someone you trust and care about that they can become a stumbling block.<br />
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If I pull back the focus, however, and zoom in on the most important relationship, the one I have with God, those words just don't have any weight.<br />
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And just so I'm clear on the whole "people are watching" subject...<i>my only concern is that I allow Christ to be seen through my actions</i>. My tears of grief fall freely. I don't apologize for them. Sometimes, I don't even wipe them away. There's no facade here. My pastor's warning was really a message to "keep it real," even as messy and ugly and uncomfortable as "real" is sometimes.<br />
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Should I ever again feel like I'm being judged or rushed through my grief, I have a simple reply: <i>"Thank you for your concern, but I am right where I need to be...<b>tightly in His grasp</b>."</i><br />
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Perhaps this week was all about solidifying that for me. My husband's fancy GPS can tell me in one of several different voices where I'm located, but it can't tell me where I AM. Thankfully, I already know.<br />
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<br />Kim @ Peace of my Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744030879572205855noreply@blogger.com4