History

Monday, April 20, 2015 6:23 AM CDT

She'd be fifteen..........fifteen.

It's been a tough past couple of weeks. I don't know why it's hitting me so hard this year. The tears are always ready and waiting to flow down my cheeks. I can hardly say her name--or even think about her for that matter--without the water works starting. It's frustrating.

I saw a friend of hers the day before Easter. She's not seven. Actually, she's a young lady. It blew me away. It's not that I didn't know or acknowledge the fact that kids grow. It's not that I want all her friends to stay seven. It's not that I don't know that life continues to move forward. I'm really not sure what it is. Maybe it's that she's been gone long enough for her friends to become pre-adults. Maybe it's that I've lived without her longer than I lived with her. Maybe it's the fact that I've survived what so many people think is "unsurvivable." Maybe I just miss her.

I dreamed about her recently. She was seven. She will forever be seven. Yet, seven-year-olds don't bother me. It's the kids who are the age she would be that bring the tears. Lydia is only a year-and-a-half from being seven. Although I remember things Rachel did at her age, it isn't her or her friends that make my eyes well up with tears...and she wears Rachel's clothes, lives in her room, and has her bed. I should probably say she "wore" Rachel's clothes. There isn't much left of Rachel's that fits her. Rachel was very tiny. Except ... Lydia is currently wearing Rachel's purple cowboy boots! She adores them. They are going to be so completely worn out when she outgrows them that they will end up in the garbage! There are a few more pairs of shoes left of Rachel's for Lydia to grow into, but then that's it.

I know that Rachel was born only 18 months after Lance. Yet to see another fifteen year old girl puts it into perspective. Maybe it's that I can't imagine her at 15. Maybe it's that I don't know what she would look like. It doesn't really matter that I can't, nor does it matter why it's been a tough couple of weeks. It is what it is.

The one thing pulling me through with any dignity at all is the fact that I reached my goal with her. As a believing parent, my one true goal for all my children is that they love the Lord their God with all their heart, with all their soul, with all their strength, and with all their mind (Luke 10:27). When one truly does this, you automatically want to follow all of His commands, you have a personal relationship with Him, and you are no longer who you once were. If you truly have these things, you walk the narrow path which leads to heaven and not the wide path which, sadly, most are on (Matthew 7:13-14). I know where she is. I know exactly where she is. I know I'll see her again.

Too many people deceive themselves about where their loved ones are because they do not know the truths of the Bible. Too many preachers are too willing to tell people false teachings because the people's ears don't want to hear the truth. Every funeral I've ever been at I've heard that person was going to heaven ... even if the person didn't believe in God. Really? That's false teaching. I even heard one preacher say there was beer in heaven--from the pulpit, during the funeral, and not in a joking manner. People are being lied to from the pulpits of our churches, and because they don't study the Bible for themselves they believe the lies. If they stay in that place, they are in for a rude awakening when they die.

I find it very interesting that every person I've ever asked thinks they're going to heaven. Why do they think that? They tell me they're going to heaven because they are a good person. I find that interesting. The Bible tells us no one is good (Mark 10:18, Romans 3:12). Not a single one of us is worthy. All one has to do is use the Ten Commandments as a measuring tool to see how wretched we truly are. Ever told a lie? Who hasn't? That makes us liars. Ever stolen anything no matter how small? This means even a pen or a paperclip, or time (ever check personal email or facebook at work). Again, I don't know anyone who hasn't. That makes us all thieves. Ever hate anyone? Jesus says that's murder. We're all murderers. Ever look at anyone with lust (any thought that isn't pure is lust) that isn't your spouse? Even your spouse before they became your spouse fits into this category. Christ says that's adultery. We're all adulterers. Ever use the Lord's name as a cuss word or in any other way except being respectful? OMG is included with this. And you only have had to do it once. That's called being a blasphemer. We're not doing so hot, are we? We're only half-way through, and I know there isn't a person reading this who is free from guilt. Most will have done every single one of these things.

"But my God is a merciful, loving God!" is the reply I often hear. Yes ... but He's a JUST God. He's a HOLY God. If He weren't, He wouldn't be worth worshiping. He will dole out punishment to those deserving of it. We're ALL deserving of it. We expect our judges here on earth to be fair and dole out punishment where it is due. If someone were to hurt someone we love we would expect justice. We would expect the judge to hand down a guilty verdict along with a prison sentence. God is no different. As the Perfect Judge, He, too, must hand down a verdict and a sentence. The verdict for sinners is guilty. The sentence is hell. The Bible is very clear about that.

That's why He sent Jesus Christ. Jesus died on the cross to take our punishment. Jesus died in our place. His blood covers our sins so when God the Father sees us, all He sees is the blood of Christ. Yet, the Bible is very clear that Jesus didn't die for everyone. He died for those who truly believe in Him. He didn't die for those who say they believe in Him yet have made up a god in their minds that suits their own needs. He died for those who believe in the God of the Bible. He died for those who believe in the God that the scriptures say He is. Do you believe in the God of scriptures? Do you know who He truly is? Or have you made up a god in your mind that fits who you want him to be?

Don't walk on the wide path. Study your Bible! Don't expect to be spoon-fed on Sunday mornings and then have nothing else to do with God or His Word for the rest of the week. It doesn't work that way. Sadly, the group of "Christians" that truly know their Bible is getting smaller and smaller and smaller. There are false teachers in the pulpits of many of our churches. Are you sitting in front of one? If you aren't listening to a preacher that is preaching FROM THE BIBLE, you probably are sitting in front of a false prophet. Christ warns us that these preachers will be prevalent. Do not be deceived! Is what they're preaching line up with scripture 100 Most won't even know because they don't know their Bible. Hard to use something as a measuring tool when you don't even know how to use it as such. It also doesn't matter what you WANT to be true. It doesn't matter what we want or how we feel. It's what God wants that has to be what we want, and it's how God feels that must direct how we feel. I don't necessarily have to understand it--or even like it for that matter--but if it is the way God thinks, feels, or commands then I have no right but to accept what He says as true and right. This may very well mean that we have to accept that we and/or our loved ones are doing wrong by God.

These are tough words. They are true words. They are biblical words. Joyfully, I can sit here and say that the goal of having all my children in heaven has for certain been attained by one of them. There is not a doubt in my mind where Rachel is at. That is one of the blessings of having her die so young. As for the rest of them, that truly is between them and God, but I'm pretty confident about which path they are on. How about you? Which path are your kids on? Which path are YOU on?

My prayer is that all my friends and family will be saved. Yet, I know that isn't going to happen. The Bible states that most of the world is on the wide path to hell and only a few find the narrow gate which leads to an eternal life in heaven. Most are deceived. Most don't want to hear the truth or they think they already have it. Either they allow others to deceive them or they deceive themselves. I pray it isn't you.

It's been a long eight years. It's been a short eight years. After she first died, I could not imagine living through the first week, the first month, or the first year. I lived through it and then some. One can live through their worst nightmare. It's survivable. Fun? No, but it's survivable.

We will always grieve for Rachel. Always and forever in this lifetime. Grief is not something you ever get over. Grief is something you learn to live with. It is what it is. It will still have the power to turn on the waterworks for years to come. It will still have the power to affect my life. Yet, God will hold me through it. He will guide my path. It is He who makes me strong. She's with Him. I long to be there, too. Someday I will be. Will you join us?

Specific Prayers:
~Those who don't know their Bible find an intensive Bible study.
~Those sitting under false preachers find a Bible preaching church.
~Those whose ears are stopped up and whose eyes are veiled to the truth of the Bible be opened.

Cancer SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, October 10, 2014 8:32 AM CDT

Last Friday brought a big change for Lydia. Her toddler bed was removed from her room and a double bed was moved in .... Rachel's bed. She had a perma-grin for days! Actually every night she's still grinning from ear-to-ear as she snuggles into her big bed. She was giddy when she found out it was Rachel's bed. The bed is a beautiful four-poster bed that sits up pretty high. Rachel had to use a stool to get in and out of it .... Lydia does not. Lydia is not tall for her age. As a matter of fact, she's only in the forty-second percentile for her age in height. Yet, she's able to jump in and out of that bed without a second thought. Gives me a lump in my throat.

I went through the kids' closets this past weekend. Two closets full of clothes came out and two more went in. Ugh. It hit me that some of the things I was putting into bags to give away were Rachel's. Pretty much the last of it. Our just-turned-five-year-old Lydia has outgrown all of Rachel's clothes except for two short cardigans. Lydia literally just turned five in September and has outgrown the clothes that Rachel was still wearing at the age of seven. When I announced this to Mark and Lance, we all just looked at other and then looked at the floor while shaking our heads. To fathom how very small she was for her age is hard to do. It makes us sad that cancer and it's treatment took so much from her.

I was able to get through all the kids books that we have, too. I was surprised to find one last piece of Rachel in them. Amongst the books was a purple and pink hardcover Princess notebook. I remembered it when I touched it. I was surprised to see it in the books as I thought I had been through them already. I opened it up and found page after page of stickers stuck every-which-way on them. On the back page she had practiced writing her name. Lance giggled when he looked at it and said it was "so her." There are still many pages waiting for another princess to slap stickers on them or practice writing her name and without even being asked, Lydia claimed the book as hers. She beamed when given the book. She beamed even bigger when told who the book had belonged to. She hugged it tight to her as she sat on her new bed.

This process of the purging of Rachel's things because Lydia no longer needs them has been emotional. Every piece of clothing of Rachel's that I stuck into a bag to give away gnawed at my heartstrings. I had to keep telling myself sternly that it was just clothing and that I still had a large box of her clothes waiting to be made into memory quilts for the boys. I was shocked, angered, saddened, surprised (and a ton of other emotions all tied up into one) that clothes could do this to me. I am elated to tell you that every single piece of clothing that was Rachel's and is now too small for Lydia went into the give away bags. I think there is one certain pair of purple cowboy boots left of Rachel's for Lydia to have. I was thinking about those last night as I probably better dig them out. They will probably fit. That would make the clothing count of Rachel's a whopping three. We've come to the end of Rachel's things. Her bed is returned to her room. Her clothes are almost completely done. There are still some of her toys that I have yet to give to Lydia because she's been too young. This year will probably see those come out, too. Her stuff is coming to an end. The surprises I'm assuming should be over, too. On one hand it is so sad, and on the other hand it's relieving. I tell myself over and over that if she were still alive, I certainly wouldn't have ANY of this stuff! I wouldn't be keeping a pair of shorts or sticker filled books if she were here. Keeping them now won't bring her back, nor does it fill the whole she left.

We have our memories, and they are beautiful. Stuff is just stuff and clutters up our houses and our emotions. It's freeing to put it in the bag and tie the bag closed! Not that it isn't hard, but it is freeing. I should take that attitude with more of my stuff!!! We are thankful to God for the ability to know that He and only He can heal our broken hearts; only He can fill the emptiness left by her absence; only He can give us the peace we feel; only He can allow us to see her again because of His Son who is both Savior and Lord; only He can give us the desire to both believe and follow. It is only by His Grace we are. He is the great I AM.

Specific Prayers:
~For physical healing for both Mark & Jodi
~For an ending to the current trial

Cancer SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, June 10, 2014 8:56 AM CDT

This anniversary of her death is a tough one to process for us. Seven years ... seven years! She's been gone as long as she was alive. How can that be???? We didn't know how we'd make it through the first year let alone seven. Yet here we are. Seven years later and she still makes her mommy cry. :-) I'm sure she'll do that forever. On one hand, seven years seems like a long time. On the other hand, a lifetime of events can happen in that amount of time.

We are a completely different family than we were when she died. We are now a home schooling family. We have one in college. We have custody of triplets who are now four. We go to a different church. We've lost another parent (Mark's mom). We've added on a bedroom and played musical bedrooms.

Rachel's room is now empty of all her clothes, trinkets, and toys. Everything that is left in there that is Rachel's is now Lydia's. It won't be long and there won't be any of Rachel's clothes left in the closet because Lydia will have outgrown them. At four years of age she's wearing some things that still didn't fit Rachel at seven, and Lydia is an average-sized four-year-old. Rachel needed size 2-3 for her waist but size 5 for the length. Shorts she could wear size 2-3, but pants I would buy size 5 and pull the elastic bands inside all the way to the smallest size, or I would safety pin them, or I would open the hem at the waist and shorten the elastic. She was a tiny one. I had to gulp last Sunday when Lydia wore an outfit of Rachel's that was always too big for her; Rachel had never worn it.

We have moved forward seven years learning to live with the grief. It is still there--it always will be. We miss her beyond belief. Yet, we know where she is. We know she's with our Lord and Savior. We know that she didn't just believe that Jesus is the Son of God (heck, even Satan believes that), but He was the Lord of her life. Rachel knew that the Bible is the inerrant Word of God and even at the young age of seven, she strove to follow it. She loved Jesus with her heart and soul and with every breath she took.

Although she didn't get to take enough of those breaths as far as we're concerned, she lived many moments that took our breath away. Another way our family has changed is in the depth of our faith. We have an even closer personal relationship with our Lord because of Rachel. It moved our faith to a new level, and it has continued to grow beyond that level. For that we are eternally grateful.

Seven years .... seven years .... seven very long, very fast, very uplifting, soul searching, heart wrenching years. We aren't the same. Our family isn't the same. Nothing is the same. It is interesting how God moves us. God's plan is perfect. We may not understand it, but it is perfect. To God be the glory.

Specific Prayers:
~Removal of the things causing extreme stress to our family
~Continued healing of Jodi's ankle
~The revival of the TRUE Gospel in our churches

Monday, April 21, 2014 5:02 PM CDT

Another birthday has come and gone. She would've been 14. How can that be? Thirteen of us met at her grave site for pizza and pop. Strange? We don't think so. We laughed. We told stories. We remembered. We sang Happy Birthday and released 14 pink balloons watching them float away until we could no longer see them. It was good.

In the days leading up to her birthday we again wondered about the whys of it all. We don't dwell there, but with anniversaries it tends to arise. We miss her. Yet we know that she fulfilled God's plan perfectly. Our human minds can't wrap around God's ways, but we know He is perfect. We know if she were here that we would always be fearing the cancer coming back. She would be dealing with surgeries and drugs for what the chemo and radiation did to her. She would be having surgeries to lengthen bones because she wasn't growing. She would be on drugs because she wasn't going into puberty. She would be in pain. It would never stop. Yes, she'd be here. That she would. But what a way to be here.

Although we miss her, she was spared all of that. She's with Jesus, and we're jealous. She has no more pain. She has no more tears. She has no more suffering. Wouldn't that be wonderful? As I sit recovering from a broken ankle, it all sounds quite nice! :-) We look forward to that day with much hope and much anticipation. Come, Lord Jesus!

May you know the hope and peace in your lives that only a personal relationship with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ brings. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. There is no other way to the Father but through Him.

He is risen! He is risen indeed! Amen.

Specific Prayers:
1. For relief from suffering.
2. For healing of Jodi's ankle.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, December 2, 2013 3:32 PM CST

I just finished a book titled "Not a Fan" by Kyle Idleman. For anyone who thinks they are a follower of Jesus Christ, you need to read this book. I believe the scariest verses in the Bible are Matthew 7:21-23: Not everyone who says to me, "Lord, Lord," will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, "Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?" Then I will tell them plainly, "I never knew you. Away from me, you evil doers!" OUCH! Who has ever driven out demons or performed miracles? Not me or anyone I know or know of. If these people can't get into heaven with their list of things, there's no way my list or your list is going to get us into heaven. Jesus made it pretty clear: No matter how much good you do, no matter what you accomplish for the kingdom, that's not what makes you a true follower. It comes down to a personal relationship with Jesus. Are you a true follower of Jesus Christ? Or are you just a fan of His? You may truly be surprised by what the Lord thinks you are. If you think you are a follower, read this book! Find out now positively that you are, because tomorrow may be too late. MANY who think they are followers are really only fans and Jesus will say, "I never knew you." It's too important to be unsure of; it's too important to make excuses about; it's too important to deceive yourself about. Please ... read it. In the words of Donald Whitney, "If a person is wrong about being right with God, then ultimately it really doesn't matter what he or she is right about."

There were several parts in the book that talked about funerals and eulogies. I can honestly sit here and say that as proud as I am of my children and their accomplishments in college, high school, and with anything to do with a ball (sports), when they die none of that will matter to me. No matter what your children have done, if they were to die tomorrow the only thing you would be concerning yourself with would be, "Did they know Jesus? Are they in heaven?" Not one single other thing will matter. The fact that Rachel knew Jesus is the only thing that comforts me about her death. The fact that I know where she is absolutely and without a doubt gives me peace. There are others whose deaths have left me unsettled. Not everyone goes to heaven--even though that's not what is preached in many of our churches these days. Don't deceive yourself. God has made it very clear how you get there. Being a good person will not land you in heaven. We are not saved by works. Believing that Jesus is God's Son will not land you in heaven, either. Even the devil believes that, and I guarantee you he isn't going to heaven.

Jesus must be Lord of your life. That's a huge commitment. You must be a follower of Christ; not just a fan. He's not asking if you know about Him, he's asking if you know Him. He's asking for a personal relationship.

Being a follower will cost you something. Jesus doesn't say He wants to be first in your life. He doesn't even want there to be a second place. He wants to be your one and only. What are you going to have to give up to make Him your One and Only? Jesus doesn't say you can have Him in moderation--there is no option of selective commitment. There are no exception clauses. His invitation is an all or nothing invitation. In Revelation 3 Christ says, "You are neither hot or cold, but because you are lukewarm--I'm about to spit you out of my mouth." There are no half-ways with God. There is no gray area. It's very black and white.

Most people who claim to be Christian know John 3:16: For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life. Many tend to forget about Luke 9:23: If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. These two verses must go together. There is no believing without following. There is no John 3:16 without Luke 9:23.

And so we must "come after" Christ as we would pursue a love interest. That is the translation of the Greek. The passionate pursuit of someone you love. How have you "come after" Jesus? How have you chased Him? How have you tried to win Him? We can't "come after" Jesus without denying ourselves. Denying ourselves isn't just the idea of saying no to ourselves--or even resisting ourselves. The idea is that we do not even acknowledge or recognize our own existence. A follower makes a decision every day to deny himself and choose Jesus ... even if it costs everything. A committed love is best demonstrated through sacrifice.

Following Jesus can and will bring pain and suffering. Jesus tells us to take up our cross and follow Him. The biblical reality is that when people say yes to following Jesus, they are agreeing to carry a cross. You can't carry a cross without suffering. It will be painful at times to follow Jesus. Are you really carrying a cross if there is no suffering and sacrifice? When is the last time that following Jesus cost you something? When is the last time it cost you a relationship? When is the last time following Jesus cost you a promotion or a vacation? When is the last time you were mocked for your faith? Forget about having our lives threatened ... when is the last time you went without a meal for the sake of the gospel? Can you really say you are carrying your cross if it hasn't cost you anything? If there is no sacrifice involved, if you're not at least a little uncomfortable, then there is a good chance that you aren't carrying a cross.

"Not a Fan" by Kyle Idleman. Much of what is written in this post is from this book. Go read it. It gets you thinking. My name is Jodi Hansen, and I am not a fan.

Specific Prayers:
~For all to take this topic as the most serious one of their lives, because it is.
~For the Lord to open the eyes and the ears of all who read this post.
~For all to be committed followers of Christ willing to go where ever we are called, whenever we are called, and do whatever we are called to do.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thursday, September 26, 2013 9:20 AM CDT

Back at the computer again working on school. Riley wonders in and stands on my right. I half-way acknowledge his presence, as I continue to work. "Jesus," Riley said as he pointed behind me to my left. I looked at him. "What?" I question. "Jesus," he repeats and points to the bulletin board hanging on my wall. "Jesus?" I inquire. "Yeah!" I look at my bulletin board knowing full well that there isn't a picture of Jesus on there. I see what he's pointing to.

I received a picture of Rachel in the mail this summer. Rachel's Kindergarten teacher passed away and as they went through her things at school, they found a picture of Rachel and thought I would like to have it. They were right! Rachel is looking at the camera with her intense blue eyes contrasting drastically with her blonde hair, which is scraggly and in standard form for that time in her life. It looks like it's taken about the same time as the photo above. She has a grin on her face. Jesus, huh? "No, Honey, that's not Jesus," I correct. "That's Rachel." "Rachel?" He ponders that fact a moment. "Yes, that's Rachel. She lives with Jesus, doesn't she?" "Oh, yes! She lives with Jesus!" he quips happily. "I want to go there," he states innocently. "So do I, Riley. So do I," I answer softly. "Me wuv you, Mommy! Me wuv you!" he responds as he reaches his arms for a hug and puckers his lips for a wet, sloppy toddler kiss. "I love you, too, Sweetheart," as I grab him and prepare to be slimed right on the kisser. While wiping his affection from my face, he runs off to another room satisfied that everything is right with his world.

Oh, to have hugs and kisses fix everything. Dalton received a shiner last night as Lydia's head connected with his eye socket. Some time on Mommy's lap along with lots of hugs, kisses, and an ice pack and soon everything was "all better." Although he has a wonderful shade of blue streaking his eye today and some swelling, the goose egg is gone and he says it doesn't hurt. Hmmmmm .... maybe I should've put an icepack on my heart when this journey began. I wonder if the swelling and pain would've been much less and even be gone by now? I probably just would've ended up with frostbite on my chest. Oh, to have a mommy's or daddy's kiss make everything all right and take the pain away. Oh, to be able to put a band-aid on every time my heart is jolted.

The box is labeled "Girls 4T." I take it to the laundry room to sort through. I take out the top layer, and the next. "Hmmmmmm," I think to myself, "those pajamas look a lot like a pair that Rachel had." I rifle through some more clothes and find another pair of pajamas that look an awful lot like ones she had. It then dawns on me .... they're hers. My heart jolts. I stand peering into the box. A nightie. A shirt. A pair of pants. I fondle them. I pull them out and caress them. "How many more boxes will I get to open of her clothes in them?" I ponder. Not many. Not many more. She was so tiny that even at this size I was pinning the waste in for her. She needed the length but not the girth. Seven years old needing size 4T/5T length and size 2T girth. That alone brings tears to my eyes. Seven years old and never weighed as much as my boys do now at four. One more time of cleaning out closets and bringing in a bigger size is probably all I've got of seeing Rachel's clothes on Lydia. Maybe another 18 months of Lydia enjoying being able to wear Rachel's clothes.

About the beginning of August I showed Lydia a drawer in her room full of little girl underwear. She looked at me quizzically with a furrow on her brow. "These were Rachel's. Now you can wear them," I stated. One would've thought that the heavens just opened up and dropped holy light on top of her. She squealed and jumped up and down screaming, "They're Rachel's! They're Rachel's! They're Rachel's!!!! And I get to wear them!!! Let's look!!!" Dancing and twirling she pulled out pairs of material that hardly cover my palm yet are large enough to fit on her little bum. There were sparkly ones, and lacey ones, and Dora ones, and princess ones, and striped ones, and ... and ... and .... They all reminded me of Rachel. Now they're Lydia's. Even when they come through the wash, they are Lydia's. Another bridge crossed. Rachel's clothes will also become Lydia's. My heart won't stop when they come through the laundry. Maybe once in a while a memory, which brings a smile, will pop into my brain. It's fleeting. It doesn't last. The item is hung or folded and put into Lydia's pile. Not a second thought happens. Life moves forward at a pace that is sometimes dizzying.

Yes, life moves, but it isn't time that heals. It's what we do with that time that allows us to learn to live with the grief that we bear. Time does nothing but pass. It's what we choose to do with that time that moves us through the different stages. If we lie in bed everyday crying, time will still pass. It will be the next day, the next week, the next month. Time will have passed, yet it did nothing. We're still lying in bed crying. Grieving is work. It's heart work, it's brain work, and it's physical work. Nope, it isn't time that heals, but what we do with that time. Heal probably isn't the right word. I will never heal. I will never be over Rachel. I don't ever want to be over her. I do, however, want to learn to live with the grief. I don't want to stay in that horrible place of fresh grief. It could swallow you up, if you let it. Learning to live with grief is hard work, but it's do-able. It's also a much better place to be. Heal? No. You learn to live without a limb. You learn to live with the big, black hole. Having learned to live with it is a nice place to be. Bring on the clothes! :-)

Specific Prayers:
~Praise for the peace that comes only through Jesus Christ.
~That those in fresh grief lean on God to help them cope.
~That those who have never learned to live with their grief find their peace in Him.

Saturday, June 8, 2013 5:51 AM CDT

"Mommy?" comes Riley's innocent three-year-old voice from the very backseat of my Suburban. "Where's Rachel?" What? I think to myself. She hasn't been a topic of conversation for days. Why is he bringing her up? "Rachel's in heaven. Who does she live with?" I ask in return. "With JESUS!!!" Lydia shouts from her seat in the middle of the truck. "Why?" comes the second of the "wh" questions from Riley. "Rachel was sick and she died," I answered. Swiftly I added, "Rachel was very, very, very sick and the doctors couldn't make her better." Oh, boy. Lydia was sick with a cold and I certainly didn't want any of them thinking she was going to die. Or that when he or Dalton got sick that either of them were going to die. "Oh," came the reply. "Why couldn't the doctors make her better?" Oh, this is touchy. If I tell him that the medicine didn't work, then he could think that at some point the medicine he or anyone else takes may not work and he will die. I don't want to lay this on the doctors because then he may not trust doctors and not want to go when he is sick. If I tell him I don't know, I'm really not telling the truth. "Riley, Jesus decided that it was time for Rachel to come live with him. We'll see her again someday." I saw Lydia nodding her head in my rear view mirror. She then piped up with, "Yeah, we'll see her again someday." How can she have such a big, toothy grin on her face when she says that? All was quiet inside the truck. You could've heard a pin drop. Silence. Nothing. The whirring of the tires against the pavement the only sound being heard, but I knew there was also whirring inside a three-year-old brain. Then, the bomb drop: "Mommy, I miss her." "I miss her, too, Riley." I don't know how you can miss someone you never even knew, but I guess he does.

Wait ... hold that thought. I do too know how you can miss someone you never even knew. I miss my grandfather. I never knew him. He died when I was six months old (from cancer). I've always missed him. I even went through a period of grieving for him when I was young. I don't think anyone even knows that. I used to ask a lot of questions about him. I heard about what a wonderful, giving, unselfish man he was, and I wanted to know him. I wanted to play with him. I wanted to be held by him. I wanted to be loved by him. I would sit in my bedroom as a child and think about him. Often I would cry. Cry for the future that just wasn't. Cry for a relationship that never was. Being that God has left so much about death and heaven a mystery to us, I used to wonder how much my grandfather could see me and if he knew my sins. I would sit and ponder meeting him in heaven for the first time. I still think about that.

Yes, Riley, you can miss her. Her pictures are in our home. You see that she was a part of our family because of the family pictures that she's in, but you're not. You play with many of her toys. Lydia wears many of her clothes. You're sleeping in what used to be her room. You know that she was here, but now she's not. You know that we know her, yet you don't. Yes, Riley, you can miss her. Yes, you can. You can miss not playing with her. You can miss having another sister. You can miss not knowing her. Miss away, little man.

Cough, cough, cough, barks Dalton at the lunch table. He's caught Lydia's cold. Riley studies him. Not removing his eyes from his brother Riley asks, "Mommy, is Dalton going to die?" "No, Riley, Dalton's not going to die. He just has a cold. One has to be really, really, really sick to die. Dalton's not really, really, really sick. He just has a cold." Riley continues to study his brother. He studies him for a good while. Finally, he returns to his lunch plate and not one more word has ever been uttered about someone going to die.

No words uttered, but thoughts going a million miles a minute. How can it be six years???? I didn't know how I was going to make it through the first day, let alone the first month, and certainly not the first year. Now it's been six. Six years. Six very empty, yet very full, years. Six very slow, yet very fast, years. Six very bad, yet very good, years. Six never changing, yet ever changing, years. Six years. SIX YEARS!!!! We will blink and it will be ten. Blink again and it will be twenty.

I still think about that first Christmas without Rachel, and we went to Mexico. In the villa right next to ours was a couple who had lost their son to pediatric cancer twenty-three years before. Twenty-three years? How do you get to twenty-three years? How do you live for twenty-three years without your child? I guess that's only three more times than I've already done it. I guess one will live through it. I guess it's do-able. Not that it's fun, mind you, but do-able.

The tears still come at unexpected times, for unexpected reasons, in unexpected situations. I don't apologize for them. She's still very much a part of our family, and we still acknowledge her as a part of our family. The question of "How many kids do you have?" actually used to be a very difficult question to answer. The answer to that question varied with the situation I was in, who I was talking to, and how much time I had. It used to be a more difficult question to have to answer until we got permanent custody of the triplets. Before that was I the mother of two, three, five or six kids? Blake & Lance? Blake, Lance & Rachel? Blake, Lance, Riley, Dalton, & Lydia? Blake, Lance, Rachel, Riley, Dalton, & Lydia? Now that the custody is permanent, it's very easy to say I have six kids. It rolls off my tongue without a moment's thought. Because there are so many kids, people don't even realize that you haven't included one of them in the ages given because they get distracted with "three, three-year-olds." Or, I use the opportunity to bring up our Lord's name and elaborate on eternal life. It works either way. I no longer feel that I'm dishonoring her by not including her in my count of kids. She's there. It's where she belongs.

"That's you and me, Mommy!" exclaims Lydia excitedly as she points to a picture of me and Rachel hanging in my office. "It is?" I ask. "YES! That's you and me!" "Actually, Sweetheart, that's Mommy and Rachel," I gently correct. "No, that's you and me." "It looks like you and me, doesn't it?" She nods her head. "I know it looks like you and me, but it's Mommy and Rachel. How about that. You look like Rachel!" That brings a big smile and huge nods of the head. It's then okay that the picture isn't her. It's Rachel and she looks like Rachel. It's a good day in her mind.

I don't think thirty minutes had gone by when Riley walked into my office and stood by me looking at the pictures on the wall. He pointed to the same one Lydia had. "Mommy, that's you and Lydia," he announced. REALLY??? What's going on here? It isn't like this is the first time they have seen these pictures! These pictures have been there since before they came to live with us. We've talked about these pictures. I have two pictures of Rachel and me, and two pictures of Rachel and Mark hanging in my office. We've talked about these pictures of Rachel and Daddy and Rachel and Mommy. For some reason today is different. "No, Riley, that's Mommy and Rachel." "No. That's not Rachel." "It's not Rachel?" "No, it's Lydia." "It is?" "Yes." "Actually, Honey, it's Rachel. It looks like Lydia, doesn't it?" He nods his head. "Yes, it looks like Mommy and Lydia, but it's Mommy and Rachel." He gets a quizzical look on his face. "That's Rachel?" "Yes, that's Rachel." "Oh." With that he proceeded to walk out of the room. I have no idea why he came in in the first place. Just checking up on me probably.

Six years. Although the physical structure of the house is the same, the life going on inside of it is very different. Blake's finished a year of college. Lance is now an official high schooler. There are three more children under the roof. The sun continues to set and to rise each day. We continue to turn the calendar to a new month which gives way to a new year. Although the days can be long, the years are short. We continue to move forward. We will never be "over" her, but we're getting used to living "without" her. Although the big, black whole is still with us, the edges are dulling and we're getting used to dragging it around with us. It's actually gotten lighter, it doesn't define who we are, and we don't let it stop us from living. Yet, there's still a hole. There always will be. It's Rachel-shaped.

"Mommy, I miss her" .... ah, yes, Riley ... we all do. We all miss Rachel very much, and we always will. Even those who never knew her, but know of her, miss her. To God be the glory.

Specific Prayers:
~For continued peace for our family as we continue this journey of living without Rachel.

Cancer REALLY, REALLY sucks!!!

Tuesday, January 29, 2013 9:20 PM CST

Today has been a draining day. One of the triplets needed tubes put in their ears so that meant a trip to the hospital. We've actually been up there a lot with trips to specialists and the ER, but that's different than actually being in the hospital itself with all the staff that knew and cared for Rachel. Every nurse we had today knew Rachel. Every procedure for pre-op and post-op reminded me of doing it with Rachel. Doing anesthesia and putting this child to sleep reminded me of doing it with Rachel (over 100 times, but who's counting). Going through all of the motions ... but with a different child. Who would've thought? Every turn screamed of Rachel. Yet, it wasn't her.

The surgery was quick, uneventful, and successful. Then we came home. And the phone rang. Just a few minutes after being home the phone rang. I did not like the news. The news took my breath away. It made my heart skip a beat. It made me cry.

"That" tutor, "that" teacher, "that" most beloved person who loved Rachel beyond measure passed away in her sleep last night. We are devastated, to say the least. Mary Jo Cummings, my children's Kindergarten Queen--I mean teacher, was such a strong presence in our lives and such a blessing. She continues to be a very special person who closely walked with us through a very difficult time and brought smiles, laughter, and love to a little girl (and her family) at any time of day or night, any day of the week, any time of the year. This woman's heart was too big for her body, and her feisty, stubborn nature was only matched by one very short little girl with a bald head. They were two peas in a pod. They dished it out to one another with no holds barred and a twinkle in their eye as they did it. Who else would hand deliver a large bag of Ruffles potato chips to the hospital the very day Rachel would be admitted ... without fail? Even though very sick, each phone call went, "MISS CUMMINGS!!!! I NEED CHIPS!!! I'm in the hospital." Who else would get two classes of Kindergarten children to make crafts to decorate a little girl's hospital room (over and over and over again)? Who else would coordinate such a special time for Rachel and her brothers at the Twin's game (throwing out the first pitch and changing bases)? Who else would we ask to give Rachel's eulogy? Who else would give us a six-foot inflatable birthday cake to put up at Rachel's grave for her first birthday after she died? Yes, we put it up. It was hysterical! Who else would think of Lance year after year and continue to celebrate her birthday with him by inviting him to her Kindergarten room to have Rachel's favorite meal--cheese pizza and orange pop--even though he's now in middle school? There is only one. Ms. Cummings. There is only one Ms. Cummings.

To say we are shocked is an understatement. To say she will be missed is an understatement. To say she touched many is an understatement. This woman's love reached far and wide, and she will be sorely missed by many.

Mary Jo, give my girl a hug for me. You beat us all there. See you later, Alligator.

Specific Prayers:
~Peace for our broken hearts.
~Understanding beyond their years for the young children who she was currently teaching (our great nephew being one of them--he LOVES her).
~Comfort for her family--especially her mother who is in her 90's.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, October 15, 2012 3:35 PM CDT

The phone rang. I glanced at it as I finished buttoning Lydia's pants after changing her diaper. I picked up the phone while Lydia looked at me. "Hello," I responded into the receiver. The voice on the other end that answered my hello was unfamiliar to me.

"It's Rachel!" Lydia exclaimed excitedly. I looked at her and shook my head no. "Uh-huh! It's Rachel," she emphatically pronounced.

"No, Honey, it's not Rachel." The voice on the line chuckled.

"Yes, it is," Lydia continued in her "I know stuff and things" tone. Oh, boy. The sales person started her pitch as Lydia continued trying to convince me that it WAS Rachel on the other end of the line. Oh, how I wish that were possible, Little One. You have no idea how much I wish that were possible.

The sales pitch continued as the blue puppy eyes in front of me pleaded for me to believe that it was Rachel on the phone. We hadn't even been talking about Rachel. Her name hadn't even been vocalized for at least several days that I was aware of. Where was this coming from? "Yes, it's Rachel," the three-year-old voice continued, shaking me from my thoughts.

I removed the phone from directly in front of my mouth and said, "Lydia, Rachel is in Heaven with Jesus. They don't have phones in Heaven. Rachel can't call here on the phone." She pondered that as a rather confused sales person was told by me to remove our number from the call list. I replaced the receiver in it's base and looked at Lydia.

"Where's Rachel?" I questioned.

"With Jesus," came the answer.

"Yes, she's with Jesus in Heaven. They don't need phones there, Sweetheart, so Rachel will never call us on the phone. She's with Jesus, and that's all she needs."

"Oh."

"We'll see her again someday when we get to Heaven. Won't that be great?"

"YES!"

"Okay, now it's time to go to take a nap."

"Okay," came the reply from the very little girl with very big ideas as she raced up the stairs to join her brothers.

A telephone call. If it were only that simple. The problem with that phone line is that I'd always be wanting Rachel to hand it over to God so I could ask Him to explain this, that, or something else that I want to know about the mysteries in the Bible, the mysteries of His plans, and the mysteries of our journies. God would probably tire of me. :-) No, no phone lines ... or cell towers ... or satellite dishes. But we have the Holy Spirit and He can direct our paths. Sometimes the reception seems a bit foggy, though, and that's not because God has moved, but because I have.

Hey, God, it's me, Jodi! Can you hear me now? Can you put Rachel on the phone?

Specific Prayers:
~For peace in our hearts as we comprehend that whoever wins the election is there because God set him there; not necessarily because he's the best man for the job, but because he's what God needs to fulfill His plan. "He sets up kings and deposes them." (Daniel 2:21)

Thursday, July 26, 2012 11:05 PM CDT

This week has been a time of reflection for us. It was ten years ago that this week changed our lives forever. A decade ago this week I found the lumps that sent us to the doctor and started the downward spiral into the pit of cancer. Ten years ago on Monday I found the lumps and we made our initial trip to the doctor. That same afternoon the lumps had drastically increased in number and size, which sent us back to the doctor. On Wednesday we went back to the doctor and an x-ray was done. On Thursday an ultrasound was done. On Friday a MRI was done, and I met a pediatric oncologist. I didn't want to know her. I didn't want her to be right. On Saturday Rachel had surgery to biopsy her lumps (tumors) and if a positive cancer diagnosis was made by the lab, to have a port-a-cath installed. She came out of surgery with a port. And the journey began.

There's been a lot of water under the bridge in the past decade. On one hand it seems like forever ago, and on the other hand it seems like last week. I can still conjur up those horrid feelings of helplessness and unbelief just by thinking about being told what secrets the MRI revealed. I just wanted that doctor to be wrong on so many levels. I wanted the scans she was showing me to be of another child. But she wasn't wrong, and the scans were Rachel's.

I remember well the black pit of emptiness that I was in for the first week after she was diagnosed. I didn't eat, I didn't sleep, and I moved on autopilot. I just wanted it all to be a nightmare. It was a nightmare, but I have yet to wake up. I have yet to go through anything so devastating again. I never want to. So many things have changed, yet so many things remain the same.

Ten years ago I couldn't even fathom being ten years down the road. And here we are. Ten years ago I certainly couldn't fathom that we'd be living without her. Yet we are. Ten years ago I didn't think I'd be without my mom or my mother-in-law. But I am. Ten years ago I certainly didn't think I'd be the mother of six. So I am. God works in ways that I just don't understand. Even if he tried to explain it to me, my human mind would not be able to fathom the perfectness of it. I shake my head here on earth; I rock back and forth as the tears rack my body; I sob uncontrollably as the pain ravishes my heart. I look forward to the promise of no more pain and no more tears. What a joyous time that will be!

I was watching a documentary this week and there was a professional talking about how the one thing he can't handle is listening to a mother cry for her child. He said that it was the worst pain he's ever heard, and that one sound is the one that gets to him every time. Sadly, I completely comprehend that.

Life is "normal." Basically. But then there are the times that the pain takes over and the tears come abundantly. We miss her so much. There is such a hole in our family where she's supposed to be. Nothing will ever fill that hole. We don't want it filled. It's her hole. It belongs to her. As things change with her chair at the dinner table no longer there and others having taken its place, her room now filled with cribs and "little people" clothes, her seat in the car filled by another body, she's slowly losing her place. There are her pictures. There will always be her pictures. But her "things" are disappearing. The house is changing, the family is changing, and WE each are changing. Although we have her memories, we are changing without her, and somewhat because we are without her.

The last ten years have been quite the journey. They are none that I would wish on anyone, yet none that I would've missed, either. It is my life. It is the life that God blessed me with. For whatever reason, He chose me to have this life, and He chose me to be Rachel's mom. I wouldn't have missed that for the world. I wouldn't have wanted to miss out on a single moment of her. I'm so glad that we had her for as long as we did. Although painful to lose, she was glorious to have had. No, even if I had known the outcome beforehand, I wouldn't have changed a thing. Even if her life was short, I feel so very blessed to be able to call her my daughter. No matter what cancer took away from us, it can't take that away. I will forever be Rachel's mommy.

Specific Prayers:
~For parents who are dealing with the diagnosis of cancer in their children.
~For healing and peace for those parents who have lost their children to cancer.
~For the true shepherds to continue to boldly preach, and for the sheep to have eyes to see and ears to hear.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, June 25, 2012 5:06 PM CDT

Last night we went out for dinner with "My" Tammy and her husband Jeff. Lydia was sitting between me and Tammy. Mark had dressed her in her outfit, and he was reiterating how Lydia had told him that it was Rachel's. It wasn't Rachel's, but Lydia wasn't having any of that. It WAS Rachel's! So he's telling the story and as he finished Lydia said, "Rachel went away." I intook my breath (I heard Tammy intake hers) and tears popped instantly to my eyes. I looked away. The silence was deafening. Then I said, "Where did Rachel go?" Lydia thought about it before shrugging her shoulders and answering, "I don't know." "Who does she live with?" I questioned. Her face lit up with the biggest grin and her eyes shone and she shouted, "WITH JESUS!!!!" "Yes, she lives with Jesus." "Uh-huh," the two-year-old answered.

Out of the mouths of babes. Three little words and they were able to completely shut the mouths of four grown adults. "Rachel went away." Yes, Rachel went away. She went so far away that none of us can even fathom it. In our wildest dreams we can't conjur where she's at. I look skyward in wonder and I wonder. I know I'm not even close to being close.

Come, Lord Jesus. I'm ready. Are you?

Specific Prayers:
~I've learned of more children that have died from Ewing's. Please pray for peace for their families, and that they may know God's love.

Cancer SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Really, it does!

Friday, June 8, 2012 3:01 PM CDT

Can it be five years? It just can't be. How can she be gone as long as she was sick??? It can't be possible. Yet, here it is. She died on Friday, June 8, 2007. It's now Friday, June 8, 2012. Five years. Five stinkin' years.

Even though it's been five years, she is still so much a part of our family. Blake graduated from high school this May (oh, who am I kidding .... graduation celebrations are STILL going on--it's graduation MONTH, or SEASON, or something like that. He even has an all-night senior lock-in tonight). He made sure that in every slide show he was a part of that he had pictures of Rachel included--and Lance, too. For many people it was the first time they'd seen Rachel, as we've come to know them since Rachel died. That blows our minds, too. There are SO many people that we now know--and many we call good friends--who weren't in our lives while Rachel was alive. It really is fascinating to see how God works.

The triplets "know" who she is, too. They may only be two, but if they see a picture of her they yell out, "RACHEL!" It's pretty cute. Lydia, who is wearing size 2T and 3T is wearing Rachel's clothes .... what does that tell you about how little Rachel was??? Oh, that gets me every time. She was such a little peanut. Lydia has started asking me, "Is that Rachel's?" One morning I had a pair of shorts in my hand and was putting them on her. "Are those Rachel's?" she asked in her innocent two-year-old voice. "Yes, these are Rachel's," I answered. Lydia threw her hands up in the air and screamed, "WOO HOO!!!!!!!!!!!! They're Rachel's!!!!!!" Well ... okay then! :-) Glad someone is SO excited about that! Another day she wouldn't even put on a pair of shorts that weren't Rachel's. I had to laugh. Good thing she has a lot of Rachel's shorts!

"Where does Rachel live?" I ask the triplets. "Hmmmmmmmm ... with Jesus!" comes the answer. There is confusion when we go to the cemetary to water flowers and we try to explain that that's Rachel's grave. Hey, I'm more than twenty times their age and I'm still not sure "I" get it!

Yes, she is still very much alive in our hearts, in our home, and in our family. Things continue to move forward, yet we will always live with a Rachel-shaped hole in our hearts. We will always love her. We will always consider her as one of our children. We will always miss her. Not a day goes by that we don't think of her. Not one. The tears are much less, but they still happen. We still wonder what God's complete workings are through her birth, illness, and death. We wonder what she'd be into, if she'd still like cheese pizza and orange pop, and if she'd still love the color pink? I still love pink, and so does Lydia, so we're going with it!

And through it all, there are blessings. God works blessings into every trial and tragedy, and we've been priviledged to see those even in what seems the biggest nightmare. We just have to trust that He knows best, and that the work that He's begun will be finished in His time.

Yes, Blake graduated this year and will be attending Northwestern College next year majoring in biology/pre-med. He is still planning on becoming a pediatric oncologist. He volunteers on a weekly basis at the same children's hospital Rachel was at, and he job shadowed Rachel's doctor. He LOVES volunteering and he LOVED shadowing. I guess he's on the right track. We'll see if he actually ends up there when all is said and done. He has a long road ahead of him, but if it's the Lord will for Blake's life, he will be there. We count this as one of the many blessings from the trial and tragedy.

I remember thinking soon after Rachel had died that I just wished it was three years down the road because I knew that I'd feel better by then. At that point in time it just hurt so bad both physically and emotionally that I wasn't sure I'd make it another hour let alone another day or week or month or year. I just wanted to have all of that hard work of grieving behind me. One grieves forever, but the first couple years are definitely the worst. Three years ... just get me to three years. Here we are at five. How did that happen? How can she have been gone this long?

The first Christmas after she died, we went to Mexico. The people in the room right next to us had lost a son to cancer 23 years earlier (yes, God, we know you put them next to us). It still hurt. It wasn't what I wanted to hear, yet I knew it was true. Will 23 years be here before we know it? Five sure has. As has the 18 years for Blake and his graduation. My newest saying is: The days can be long, but the years are short.

Five short years later she's still very much a part of us. She's still a part of our family. She's still a part of our families faith journey. She's still a part of who I am. I know that she's still a part of many others from the words they've told me or left me. She is not a vapor; she is not unknown; she is still very much alive in the work that she has accomplished and continues to accomplish in the lives of those she touched. We are so blessed to have had her. We wouldn't change anything even if we knew the outcome would be the same. We love her. We cherish her memory. We miss her dearly.

Love you, Sweet Pea. See you later, Alligator.

Cancer REALLY sucks!!!! Yet, God is good ... all the time.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012 9:39 PM CST

Where does the time go? It's hard to believe she's been gone 4 1/2 years. What? How? And even after that amount of time, she's still showing up.

I mentioned a couple of journal entries ago that I had cleaned out Rachel's clothes out of her closet. I had to do that to make room for more little clothes. We have had triplets living with us since last summer. They turned two last fall. There are now three cribs in Rachel's room and clothes for two boys and one girl. It's been a life changer! If you would like more information about this, let me know and I'll be happy to explain the situation to you in an email so that you can pray specifically for our needs. Due to the sensitive nature surrounding what's happening, I'm not going to put it online for all the world to read.

The little girl, Lydia, (her brothers are Riley and Dalton) received several baby dolls for Christmas. All of them were finding it fun to change the clothes on the babies, but because all the babies are different sizes, their clothes aren't exactly interchangeable. We made a trip upstairs to Rachel's doll clothes stash. As I was digging through the clothes, my eyes fell on something that made me chuckle. I saw fabric with Blue's Clues on it. I knew there were no doll clothes with Blue's Clues on it, but I knew that Rachel had underwear like that. I grabbed the item and pulled it out, and sure enough, it was a pair of Rachel's underwear. I sat there holding this pair of underwear in amazement. Four-and-a-half years have passed, and I'm finding her underwear. I looked them over. Oh my! It wasn't just a pair of underwear; it was a pair of DIRTY underwear!!!! I busted out laughing. I couldn't believe it!! Needless to say, I'm still doing her laundry almost five years after she died!

Last weekend, Blake had some of his friends over for the weekend. He blew up our air mattresses and decided to be funny and put Rachel's Hello Kitty and Dora sheets on them for his friends to sleep on. He came downstairs and said, "Look what I found!" I looked at him, and he was holding up a sock ... Rachel's sock. Now you know where the dryer puts those socks it eats ... into sheets! We all started laughing. She just keeps showing up. One would think that after this long we would've found everything by now. Nope! Not so. We're just laughing and shaking our heads.

The triplets see the pictures of her in our house and although they have no idea who she is, they know that's Rachel ... and that she lives with Jesus. I know they don't comprehend why she's in the pictures with the rest of us, but they know her name is Rachel. Crazy enough, when I went through all of her clothes there were some in there that fit Lydia. Rachel's clothes were size 2T, 3T, and 4T. The pants even had safety pins in them to make them smaller .... she needed the length. The boys weigh what Rachel weighed at her heaviest. They are two. Rachel was seven. The clothes of Rachel's that my boys didn't feel they wanted in their memory quilts I have let Lydia wear. It makes me smile when I see her in them.

Although gone and in the presence of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, she is still around. Who would've thought? Dirty underwear and all ....

Specific Prayers:
~For peace as we approach her birthday in six weeks.
~For God's will to be known for the triplets.

Monday, October 10, 2011 2:48 PM CDT

Her clothes no longer hang in her closet. Her purple cowboy boots no longer sit empty staring at me from their space on the shelf. Her pajamas no longer are limply folded and stacked in waiting. Cleaned out. It's all cleaned out.

I had promised Blake and Lance that some day I would make a memory quilt for each of them from her clothes. A few weeks ago the three of us went through every article of her clothing and the boys said whether or not it held any memory for them. Those that did will be put into a quilt for them, and those that didn't got put into another pile. I now have a large box of clothes to make into quilts. It's a start.

Her tights, socks, and underwear, and all of her toys, books, purses, belts, nicknacks, and other miscellaneous stuff still are taking up space in her closet, but we've made it through a huge hurdle. It was emotional, yet it wasn't. It was hard, yet it wasn't. There were a few moments of breathlessness as memories of her in that outfit flooded my mind. A tear trickled at one point. We put clothes to our noses and intook the odor of them hoping to smell her. Not a one smelled like Rachel. They all smelled like fabric softener. Even her blue blanket has lost her essence. It's just her blue blanket ... no smell to it any longer. No, Blue won't get cut up into a quilt. Blue is in my cedar chest now along with a few other things. There are some dresses that won't make good quilt pieces, but that I can't find myself parting with that I have to decide if I'm hanging onto them or not. Can I bare to see another little girl in them? I don't think so ... not yet, at least. That may change.

Things are moving. Things are changing. God has a strange sense of humor.

We lost Mark's mom this summer after a very short bout with leukemia. We miss her dearly. It's hard to believe that between the two of us, Mark and I only have one parent left--my dad. Mark says he's too young to be "orphaned." I have to agree with that.

Blake worked at the shop this summer helping to pick up the slack that Mark's mom's passing left (she worked for Mark). Now he's busy taking a full load of college courses as a senior in high school. Lance is in 7th grade. The boys are active in sports, church, and their social lives. I'm still homeschooling. Life is busy, chaotic, and strange. This life is fleeting and temporary, and therefore we can say it is good. We miss those whom have gone before us, and we can hardly wait to see them again.

Specific Prayers:
~Continued peace as we live without our precious Rachel.
~God's will for our lives.

Even though CANCER SUCKS, God is holy, true, and good!

Monday, May 30, 2011 3:25 PM CDT

I've been cleaning out .... and cleaning out .... and cleaning out. With homeschooling, my office has become an absolute dungeon. That has now changed! I think I could have a very large garage sale .... but I'm not going to. I'm donating it all. That's a lot less work! Since I'm in the cleaning mode (and because there are some things that need to go other places besides my office), I decided to clean out a large junk drawer in the kitchen today. I knew she'd be there. I knew I'd find her in there. I was right.

I wasn't expecting her last school picture to be in there ... but it was. There she posed in all her pink glory (pink pants with hot pink ribbon flowers sewed on them--very cute, I might add), and the pink cammy and pink sweater that we buried her in. The picture was taken about 8 weeks before she died. Her head was as bald as a cue ball. Her smile as big as the heavens. Her eyes twinkle. That was before the downhill slide.

Lay the picture in the keep pile and move on. A report card. Another picture. I didn't want to find a note. I was doing fine, even though I was surprised to find her picture in there, but I knew if I found a note I may not be okay. A note and picture from one of her best friends telling her to feel better. Hmmmmmm .... interesting. Wonder why that was in there? Another picture. A note from a friend of mine to Rachel about a toy she was giving to her (she was also one of Rachel's teachers.) Another picture.

Four school pictures in all, a few notes to her, and a thank you note that never got mailed (I have no idea why) that Rachel had drawn a picture in ... I opened the sealed envelope to see what it was. Sorry you never got your thank you note, Janet.

Along with the tons of other stuff I threw away, I even managed to throw some stuff that was hers away. I thought that was huge progress ... at least for me. So now I have an empty drawer in which to move stuff into. It's a good feeling. Maybe someday I'll be able to get through her room ... and then again ... maybe not. I actually participated in a conversation with Mark about cleaning out Rachel's closet so I could turn it into a library for school. We'll see .... I'm not holding my breath. At least not yet anyway. We'll see what happens before the school year starts again.

Specific Prayers:
~For continued healing and peace.
~For God's glory to continue to be revealed through Rachel's death.
~ For those devastated by the storms throughout the nation.

Cancer Sucks!!!!!!!

Wednesday, April 20, 2011 9:40 PM CDT

Today is her birthday. The princess would've been 11. Eleven. How can that be? Lance wondered what she'd look like, how tall she would be, and if she would still yell at him to stop singing. I wonder if she'd still like pink camo, her blue blanket, and if she ever would've gotten pig tails again. I'm thinking "Yes" to all.

It snowed today. It rained today. The sun shown today. She would've loved the snow on her birthday. Lance remembers her saying that she wished it would snow on her birthday. I think everyone else wishes it were 70 degrees and sunny! Strange weather we're having. It snowed this morning, it rained this afternoon, and although very cloudy, the sun peeked through off and on when we went to do our balloon release at the cemetary. After singing Happy Birthday--I could hardly make it through it--we released 11 pink balloons into the wind and watched them until they disappeared into the clouds. We then went home and it started to rain again.

The boys and I spent the majority of the day at the Minnesota Science Museum enjoying the King Tut exhibit. It was a really good distraction because on the way home we realized none of us had thought about it being her birthday the entire time we were there. We'll have to remember that for next year.

We've been extremely busy with many different things the past week or so, therefore the time right before her birthday really flew by, which didn't give us time to dwell on the fact that her birthday was coming. That was good! For some reason the time leading up to an anniversary tends to be worse than the actual day. Last night we attended an award ceremony for Blake who received a U.S. Congressional Award for Outstanding and Invaluable Service in the Community. He volunteers at Minneapolis Children's Hospital every week and he received an award there for selfless service, which a nurse "nominated" him for. It was through this recognition that he got the Congressional Award. While introducing him last night, they talked a bit about Rachel. Rather fitting being that it was the eve of her birthday ... our fourth birthday without her.

Four years. How can it be four years? Society tell us it shouldn't hurt as bad as it does after four years. I'm hear to tell you it still hurts horribly. Recently, someone who also had lost a child asked me how long it had been. I told them it would be four years in June and she said, "Oh, it's still very new then." Yes ... it is still very new. We're still not used to it. We're still not used to living without her. I don't know if you ever get used to that.

I no longer pull five dinner plates out of the cupboard for dinner and I no longer call Blake or Lance by their sister's name as I shout out names in search of theirs (calling for Blake .... Lance! Mark! You! Whatever your name is! -- Rachel used to be in there, too, probably between Lance and Mark!) But there are still times when I catch myself thinking Rachel will be part of a group or wondering where she is. The thought is fleeting and then reality crashes through. The heart always jumps and drops at that moment.

I went through a real dry spell where I didn't dream about her for a long time. For the past couple of months I've been dreaming about her a lot. Sometimes she's just there for a moment, other times she's the central person I'm with. Often my mom is there, too. There have been some real strange ones.

We watched "The Passion of the Christ" by Mel Gibson tonight as a family. We thought it appropriate being that it is the week leading up to Easter, and it is because of what Christ did for us on the cross that Rachel is with Him now. It's just very hard to watch with your own eyes the portrayal of the injustice that He went through because of my sin and because of your sin. To read it from the Bible is nothing like seeing it portrayed. If you haven't seen it, I recommend it. Although there are liberties taken (it is Hollywood), it portrays the suffering Jesus went through quite vividly. It'll make you squirm.

Thank you for your prayers as we continue to learn to live without our princess. We greatly appreciate the guestbook entries, the emails, the phone calls, and the prayers. We know that it is often the prayers of others that are sustaining us. Thank you.

Specific Prayers:
~For continued peace as we continue living with grief.
~Thankfulness in Blake's decision in a college.
~Guidance in financing this college.
~Thankfulness for all who selflessly pray for others.

Friday, March 4, 2011 7:19 PM CST

For the first time since her death, I was actually able to play "her song." It's a piano piece titled "Rachel's Song." It's a beautiful melody that would always bring her running as she excitedly exclaimed, "That's my song! That's my song!" She would stand by the piano or sit by me on the piano bench while I played it. She loved that song. There are no words to it; it's just a piano instrumental. Yet, she would come be by me and hum the melody as I played. "Play it again, Mommy! Play it again!" she would say immediately as I played the last chord. I tried once before to play it, but I ended up a sobbing mess before the first page was even over. I did that to myself not long after she'd died. I haven't been able to bring myself to even try to play it--until now. Tonight I played it and didn't shed a tear. I just had a smile on my face as I thought of her while I played. Another victory. We take those little victories like trophies. Sometimes each day that we make it through can be a victory, while other days can be no problem at all.

I've already started thinking about the fact that her birthday is coming. It's still weeks away, but it's coming. Why do we always torture ourselves in the days preceding? It's a mystery, that's for sure. Right now I can't even imagine sitting at her gravesite eating pizza while sitting in a lawn chair. Do you know how much snow we have here in Minnesota??? Oh, we have a lot! And another 6+ inches is forecast for the beginning of next week. Spring seems so far away ...

Believe it or not, we've been busy visiting colleges for Blake. He wants to have his applications in by the end of Fall--or earlier. He's a junior in high school this year, but he knows what he wants in a college. He's bound and determined to make up his mind and put this decision making stuff behind him before he gets too far into his senior year. Hard to believe the kid is 17 and will be graduating from high school in a year. Where does the time go? He was eight when Rachel was diagnosed. How can that be? And now he's looking at schools that will help him reach his dream of becoming a pediatric oncologist. Doesn't that just squish your heart?? It does ours.

Specific Prayers:
~That God make it crystal clear to Blake (and his parents) which college(s) Blake should apply to.
~That God show us how we will be able to afford the college Blake chooses--the one God wants him at.
~That Blake receive many scholarships to cover the cost of both college and med-school.

And you know what?

CANCER STILL REALLY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, January 19, 2011 8:36 AM CST

It's been a long time. I've been chided by many for not posting, but I don't know how long to keep this up. She is on our minds and hearts everyday, but to write about that just isn't something I feel I should do. We continue to find drawings she's made, words she's written, and other little treasures she's left for us to find. Some of them make the tips of our mouths lift into a smirk, some of them make us bust out laughing, yet others leave us completely breathless or even crying.

Although easier than last year, Christmas and New Years were tough. At midnight on New Years I missed her little antics she always did. I missed her voice. I missed her presence. Yet, life moves on. We're changing and growing. We're leaving some things behind, we're bringing other things with us, and some we're completely changing up. It's life. Life in constant motion.

We continue to home school, and we miss her there. Lance especially misses her at school because he knows that they'd be together, be learning together, and be doing the same things ... together. It's the new normal that I don't think you really ever get used to.

Then I read other CaringBridge sights of friends we've made along the way. Some of them are still fighting. They are still playing "the cancer game". For some this will be their 9th year. In and out of hospitals. In and out of remission. Still fearful. Still hoping. Then one has to think .... who is the lucky one? Selfishly I'd like to say "they are" because they are still alive. But are they? I bet Rachel would say that she is. She's in the arms of our Lord. Is there anything better than that? Isn't that what we're all striving for? Humanly I want her here. Spiritually I know she's where she belongs .... where we all belong. Does that make my human mind feel better? Mmmmmmmmmmm ... not really, but then again yes it does. It's a very gray area, a very thin line, and a hard thing to understand.

Any way you look at it, cancer sucks!

Specific Prayers:
~For those battling cancer
~For those without a true, personal relationship with God

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!

Monday, July 12, 2010 4:53 PM CDT

This past weekend my friend, Heidi, and I put in time at Rachel's grave. We dug up sod, we laid pavers, we planted shrub roses and other little delights and I have the sore muscles to prove that it was hard work--but the results are SO totally worth it.

We planted small shrub roses that have a bajillion hot pink flowers on them. They are absolutely beautiful and they are appropriately called "Little Mischief". I figured I couldn't plant a more appropriate flower--pink and mischievious.

The results turned out better than I even expected they would. Rachel would've liked it. Her gravesite looks loved.

I found another one of her drawings last week. As would be expected, my heart caught when I first saw it. Then a smile crept across my face. I hope I never stop finding them .... but I'm sure even that will end someday.

We just got back from walking through a life-size replica of The Tabernacle from the Old Testament which is put on by Teens For Christ. I highly recommend going to see it. It's a VERY good tour which really helps to put all those historical things into perspective. We studied the Old Testament in depth this past year (including making a scale model of the tabernacle and learning all about the tabernacle) yet we still learned an awful lot today. I HIGHLY recommend going to see it when it's in your area! If you're in the Twin Cities ... GO! It's near Hudson. Email me if you want specifics.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for good friends.
~Thankfulness for salvation.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, June 19, 2010 8:01 PM CDT

It rained the entire day of the third anniversary of her death. It was a rainy, gloomy, dark day. Although it marked the day of her death, life went on in its new normal. Although we talked about her, we held school and did our "normal" Tuesday activities. It was almost surreal to think that that was actually the day.

Three years. THREE years. How? How can it be three years? I didn't think I'd be able to live a day without her let alone a week. How have we done it for three years? It just can't be. It JUST can't be. In a strange way, there is guilt that I've lived three years without her .... that I was able to. In a way there is guilt that not only have we actually made it three years, but that there have been happy times in those three years. How could we be happy without her? How can we smile without her? How do you live life without her?

You just do. Life moves forward and even if you're drug kicking and screaming, you move forward. You never move over or beyond, you just move forward dragging the big, black hole with you. The edges aren't as razor sharp, they have dulled, but the hole hasn't changed in size. You learn to drag that hole. You learn to live with the weight of it. And even though it's heavy, you learn to laugh while carrying it. God makes the weight of the hole bearable. He doesn't take it away, but He makes it bearable. And you move forward each day taking it with you.

There IS laughter. There ARE smiles. There ARE good times. And even though there is nothing you can do to change any or it, there is a bit of guilt. There just is. There just will be. It's the way it is. It's a strange thing.

Three years. How can it be three years? How did we make it three years without her????? With God's grace.

Specific Prayers:
~For the families who have lost loved ones in the devastating storms that have been sweeping our nation.
~For Israel

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, May 26, 2010 0:48 AM CDT

I took the boys camping last week. I was talking to a friend on the phone as I was packing up all the school supplies and I grabbed a large art tablet that we would need. This tablet is about 3 ft. tall by 2 ft. wide. It was given to Rachel as a gift since she loved to draw so much. I grabbed the tablet and as I was walking it to the pile that needed to get packed I dropped it. It fell open to somewhere about 1/3 or so from the front. There, staring at me was Rachel's handwriting: To: Lance I Love You

I stopped breathing. I swallowed. I stared at the page. What else was I going to find? I turned a page backwards. Nothing. I turned back to that page. I looked at it almost daring myself to flip it over. I turned it over.

Rachel's handwriting: To: Lance I Love You

I gasped. I swallowed. I stared at the page. I slowly turned the page.

In Rachel's handwriting: To: Lance I Love You

The page blurs as tears block my vision. I turn the page.

To: Lance I L

Guess she didn't finish that one. I turn the page.

To: Lance I Love You

I turn the page with tears streaming down my face.

To: Lance I Love You

To: Lance I Love You

It's a big page and she's using a bit more of it now. Good for her. Oh, how is Lance going to feel about this? I turn the page.

Lance

I turn the page. What? There is the strangest looking face drawn in the middle of the page. It's kind of skeleton-y looking. Weird. I turn the page.

To: Mommy

After the word Mommy she's drawn a pretty darn good mouse face. A cross between Mickey Mouse and her own creativity. Is that what that skull thing is supposed to be on the previous page? Can't be. I turn the page with tears dripping off of my face.

MOMMY

In big huge letters.

I turn the page. I catch my breath. She's traced around her hands ... three times. They're big and balloony, but they're her hands.

I turn the page. Nothing. I turn the page. Nothing. I turn the page again. Nothing but blank pages. I sit down. The tears continue to fall. I have to apologize to my girlfriend who is talking to me on the phone. Of course, she won't let me apologize. She's talking me through this; she's reminding me that I'm really excited by this find. Even though my heart feels like it got stabbed, she's right.

Later in the day I tell Lance that I have something to show him. I hold the first page up and he loses all the color from his face and stops dead in his tracks. I turn to the next page and the tears well up in his eyes and he croaks, "I can't look at any more," and he walks off wiping his eyes and shaking his head. Maybe someday he'll want to see the rest. It's hard to look at, though.

I showed it to Mark and you could hear a pin drop as neither one of us said anything ... I'm not even sure either one of us was breathing. Then, when I turned to the skeleton-y thing he said, "What's THAT?" We both took a breath as we laughed about the hideous thing. As I got to the Mommy pages the tears started again. We just looked at each other and nodded, knowing what the other is feeling.

It's been almost three years since she died and we continue to find things. It's been three years since she died and the tears still come both unexpectantly and totally expected. She still has the ability to completely un-nerve each of us. We never really know how we will react. Often our bodies betray us completely and other times we're in control. There is no rhyme or reason to it.

It's hard to believe that after almost three years I'm still finding surprises. It's hard to believe that it's been almost three years. In just over two weeks, it will be three years. She died on June 8. It was a Friday. I did't know how I was going to make it through the next day without her. How have we done it for three years? Only by God's grace and mercy. I can think of no other way.

Specific Prayers:
~For safety for all who are traveling this weekend.
~That we feel God's loving arms around us as we face the anniversary of her death.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thursday, April 15, 2010 11:21 AM CDT

As her birthday looms ever closer, I find that she's on my mind even more than usual. I'm dreaming about her, I'm thinking about her at unusual times, and girls around the age of ten seem to be everywhere. Yes, our baby would be ten this year. Hard to believe that since having our millenium baby that a decade has gone by. Anyone still remember the scare of Y2K? What a dud that turned out to be. Sadly, the new millenium has been anything but boring around our house. I think a boring, normal decade would've been a good thing. Guess it wasn't meant to be.

Her gravesite is clean and new pinwheels, trinkets, and other spring decorations bobble in the wind as it whispers through the trees and tinkles the wind chime. It's quiet. It's pretty. It's lonely. Another child was buried a few rows over and the new headstone announces that yet another one was lost to the awful disease of pediatric cancer. The anger wells up inside and gets caught in my throat. I hate cancer. I just hate it.

The boys want to release ten pink balloons and eat cheese pizza on her birthday. I want to hibernate. Part of me wants to not even realize that it's her birthday and the other part of me wants to shout it from the rooftop. Part of me doesn't want to know that it's her birthday because it means that I've been away from her that much longer and the other part of me wants to look at it as another day closer to being with her again. It's a discouraging war between the half-empty and the half-full glass dilemma. I don't think either side wins. Both options pretty much aren't happy in this case.

In the dreams I'm having of her, I'm even dreaming about her friends. My friend asked me the other day if her girls (ages 5 and 3) make me think about Rachel. I honestly got to tell her that they didn't. Rachel's friends make me think about her. Girls that are her age make me think about her, but the younger ones do not. Even though her girls were around Rachel, they aren't a trigger for me. Rachel even held the little one when she was a baby, but I don't associate them with her. She wasn't a toddler when she died. I don't even associate her with seven year olds--the age she was when she did die. I associate her with her friends--girls born the same time she was. I'm sure I always will.

I don't associate Rachel with being seven. I associate her with the fact that she would be ten now. What are ten year old girls doing? What are ten year old girls wearing? What are ten year old girls watching? What are ten year old girls thinking about? It's her friends, classmates, and others "her age" that make me think about her, make me long for her, and make me choke back tears. The little ones don't do that to me.

I've been asked if the baby girls that have been born to our nieces make me long for Rachel, remind me of Rachel, or make me upset. Are they supposed to? If so, I'm failing in that mourning department, because I'm so happy that they have a healthy baby that the idea of being upset totally horrifies me. Why would one be upset? That would mean that one was jealous of that baby. That's absurd to me. Healthy babies are something to rejoice over and not be jealous of. That would be quite selfish. I'm not even jealous of the nieces that have girls Rachel's age (tenish), so why would I be upset or jealous by a girl that's younger? No, no jealousy here, just prayers that these children remain healthy throughout their childhood.

We now head into the time that actually ends up being harder than the actual day: the days BEFORE her birthday. I'll keep myself busy, yet it will creep in. It just does. It's the Birthday Blue Week, I guess. Strange how that is. The time leading up to an anniversary or holiday is worse than the actual day itself. The anticipation of how horrid it's going to be is actually worse than what actually manifests. We'll make it through. We have made it through the last two, and we'll make it through this one. We have no choice in the matter. We have no choice that she died. We do have a choice in how we live, though. And we will live.

Specific Prayers:
~For continued peace in our hearts
~For those dealing with kids who have cancer

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 10:46 PM CDT

A couple of weeks ago I was given the opportunity to go to Sweden with a girlfriend. I jumped at that opportunity and last week I found myself touring the land of my children's ancestors (I'm not Swedish, but Mark is). We had a great time and I would definitely go back. We even reconnected with our high school foreign exchange student from Sweden. What a complete blast! It was wonderful having our own private tour guide. But, of course, there was all the catching up to do so Rachel's story gets told. It's also a very long flight over and back again, so Rachel's story gets told after you hear, "So you only have two sons. Did you ever think of trying for a girl?" Uh ... well .... let me tell you a story .....

"Make a quilt from her clothes," seemed to be the consensus of those asking about what I have done with her things. Funny, that's what I thought I would do with them when I am finally able to do so. Memory quilts for my boys and Mark and I from her clothing is exactly what I think I'll do. But not yet. And just for our family. Her clothes aren't that big so I'll be lucky to get quilts for us out of them. I don't know when I'll be able to cut them apart, but not any time soon. Quilts I believe they shall be, though.

It doesn't get any easier. I don't know why we think it should. Maybe we wish it that way? Maybe we want it that way? I don't know. Do we really want to stop thinking about those that we love whom have died? Do we really want to stop missing them? Do we really want the pain to go away? Do we want the wound to completely heal? Do we want the tears to stop welling up in our eyes when we talk about them? Do we want the memories to stop lingering in our brains? I don't think so. If the wound completely heals, if the tears stop popping up, if the pain completely goes away, then I think you stop missing them. If you stop missing them, one has to wonder how much one loved them. The more you love a person, the more you miss them. I don't miss people that I don't love. Conversely, I don't love people that I don't miss. No, it will never go away; you just learn to live with it. It's not going to get any easier. It is what it is. This is probably as good as it gets.

And we learn to live with it. And so we are. We are definitely living life to its fullest, even if grief is carried along. Maui, Sweden, home .... it doesn't matter where you are. You can be enjoying yourself immensely even with a big, black hole. It can be done. We're living proof of that.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for safe travel.
~Thankfulness for a wonderful time.
~Thankfulness for memories of loved ones.

Cancer SUCKS!!!!!

Friday, February 19, 2010 10:46 AM CST

Mark and I returned yesterday from a trip to Maui! It's the first time just the two of us have vacationed for a week without kids in about 14 years. I'm thinking we need to do it every 2-3 years! It was so wonderful to be together and do things that we adults wanted to do and not have to worry about entertainment for the kids.

We rented a Harley-Davidson for the entire time we were out there and explored the island entirely on the bike. What a blast! We put a LOT of miles on that thing. It gave us some ideas for the future once the kids are gone as it's tough to do any touring on the bike with kids.

While we were gone, the boys stayed at both sets of grandparents plus each went to a friends house over the weekend. They, too, had a good time. Today we're sleeping in, kicking back, and enjoying being home. There just really is nothing like sleeping in your own bed! Now it's back to reality and "real life".

Next week on Friday, February 26, 1010, there will be an event at Neisen's Sports Bar Event Center in Savage, MN, for a charity that was inspired by Rachel. This charity, called Dose of Music, was started by one of Rachel's karate instructors and is in its early stages. The focus of this charity is to make relationships with musicians, bands, vocalists, singing groups, etc. who will make hospital and nursing home/assisted living home visits, providing musical entertainment at benefits, fundraisers, etc., and help other charities.

The logo for the charity was just finished last month and I was told, "The angel wings represent our mission of helping others and are inspired by Rachel, who is now our angel. Since pink was Rachel's favorite color I made the halo 'hot pink'".

If you go to Dose of Music's website www.doseofmusic.com click on the About Us tab and it will tell you how Rachel was the inspiration to start this charity. You'll also get to see the very cool logo.

If you get the chance, drop by for Dose Of Music's first event on Friday, February 26, 2010 at Neisen's Sports Bar Event Center in Savage. As Rachel's mom, it really is something to see how she is still affecting so many people. To God be the glory.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for our safety during travel.
~Thankfulness for Rachel continuing to touch and inspire others.
~That Dose of Music be successful.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!

Thursday, February 4, 2010 9:04 PM CST

Hard to believe it's February already. Hard to believe it's 2010. Hard to believe my oldest baby turned 16 today. Where does the time go?

As a mother of toddlers, sometimes the days don't go fast enough even though you know you should be enjoying every minute of them. I mean, let's be honest here ... sometimes you can hardly wait until they go to bed! Yet you know that every minute with them is precious because you've been told that before you know it they'll be sixteen. You know what? It's true. Before you know it they ARE sixteen. Before you know it they tower over you by a good six to eight inches, their voices sound like your husband's, and there are razors in more than one bathroom. Oh yes, it goes fast.

Now instead of play dates with toddlers there are video marathons with teen boys. Do you know how many pizzas and cans of Mountain Dew a group of teenage boys can inhale? Trust me, you don't want to know!! I went to the grocery store today to stock up for the big birthday marathon weekend with his buddies. All I can say is, "Oh, boy."

I'm really glad that Christmas is behind us. That just wasn't fun. There were just so many things wrong about it. Even Lance said maybe we didn't have to put the tree up every year. That came out of his mouth totally unprovoked. I don't want the kids associating Christmas with Mom being upset and crying so I stifled everything this year and put on a smile--even though it was terribly hard to do. Going on vacation during that time is definitely less stress, more enjoyable, and easier to handle. Yeah, the tree is pretty, but it doesn't have the same sparkle to it. Only four stockings hanging just glares of the fact that she's gone. The boys doing the Advent Calendar reminded me of when she helped do it. That reminder came EVERY SINGLE day. It was horrible. When we opened presents--well--that was horrid, too. Nothing was right. Nothing was okay. Nothing was exactly good about it. We did it, don't get me wrong, but it was tinged with sadness, emptiness, and wrongness. To put it bluntly, it sucked. Big time. Maybe I should start looking for travel deals for that time of year right now! Sure makes things easier.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for carrying us through another tough season.
~Thankfulness for the 16 years we've had with Blake (and the 11 with Lance).

Cancer SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, December 18, 2009 9:19 PM CST

In case you're wondering .... no, we aren't in London nor have we ever been there. No, we weren't robbed at gun point. No, we didn't lose all our cash and credit cards. No, we don't need $800 for a hotel bill. If you have no idea what I'm talking about then you weren't talking to "me" on Facebook yesterday. If you do know what I'm talking about, you still weren't talking to me yesterday! My Facebook page was hacked into and the hacker(s) were trying to get my Facebook friends to send money. Good thing I had absolutely nothing in my profile so they don't know much about me at all. Facebook shut my page down so I no longer have one and I'm not sure that I'll start it back up again as I wasn't exactly a frequent user of it. All I can say is watch what you put online because if I had a bunch of personal information on there it could've been real scary. As it is, I've lost my Facebook page ... no big deal.

The tree is up. Her decorations are not on it. The pink tree remains in its box. Lance thought we should put her ornaments up but when I asked him if he thought it would be hard to see all of her ornaments on there he reconsidered and said that we should wait another year at least, because it would be too hard. All I did was ask, I did not prompt, but I was quite relieved when he decided we shouldn't do it. He also said that maybe we only need a tree every other year. I thought that was interesting.

Remember how I said not too long ago that I didn't need Rachel's room for anything so I wasn't concerned about the fact that I hadn't changed anything or gone through anything? Well, I decided I needed to set up a computer in another area besides the office because the office has been taken over by school (have I told you that I'm home schooling this year?). The only room that I could come up with that I could fit a table into was Rachel's room. So, I rearranged her furniture this week and set up a table with a computer on it. It was hard to do. I felt like I was dishonoring her, although I know I didn't. I moved every piece of furniture in that room including doll beds, stuffed animal bins, end tables and lamps, her bed, etc. I thought I'd super cleaned her room the summer after she died, yet I found interesting things under her bed.

Little round balls of something--lots of them. A cap to a medicine ball that I would've given her. A cap to a heparin syringe that I would've used to "lock" her line in her port-a-cath. A used band-aid. My heart screamed, "A BAND-AID!!! It has HER DNA on it! SAVE IT!!!!" My head went, "You are kidding, right?" And then I quickly vacuumed it up before my heart could answer that. Lance confirmed that the little round balls were candy. Too funny. The boys got a good giggle about the stuff under her bead--especially the band-aid. They got quiet when I picked up the caps to the medicines. You know, it all just stinks.

So now I will work for hours in her room as I do taxes. No one will mess up anything that I have laying out. It will only be me, and I can put her room back to what it was when I'm done, or I can choose to leave it the way it is. See what happens. See how I handle being in her room for hours on end. That will be a first. I haven't spent hours in there since I've had to because she was sick and I was sleeping with her, rocking with her, helping her, soothing her, etc. We'll see how it goes. I took the first step and I never have to take the next if I don't want to. Heck, as time would have it, the boys will be moving out in the blink of an eye and then I'll have all sorts of bedrooms to be at my choosing for transforming into all sorts of things. One step at a time.

Specific Prayers:
~For the wisdom of people to not get "taken" by hackers.
~For comfort for those facing Christmas with sorrow.
~Thankfulness for the comfort and peace only He can give.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, November 30, 2009 10:53 PM CST

We haven't "done" Christmas since she died. This year the plan is to stay home and put up the tree. I can't even talk about it or write about it without bursting into tears. It's been two and a half years and it hurts like it was yesterday. With tears streaming down my face, I write.

Tomorrow is December 1st. That means the Advent Calendar starts tomorrow. If it starts, and if one is actually going to do it, that means one must put it up. I looked at the regular calendar realizing what needed to be done and walked purposefully down to the basement. I walked over to one of the many tubs of Christmas stuff I have. None of them have been opened for three years. I wondered how many tubs I would have to open to find the Advent Calendar. I pulled one out and lifted the lid. There staring at me were five stockings. My breath caught. HER stocking. My eyes stung with tears. There! The Advent Calendar is right there! I grabbed it and quickly slapped the lid back on the tub. I went upstairs with my heart pounding so hard in my ears it reminded me of sitting in the deer stand this past week as deer walked out in front of me. I hung the calendar up as my heart continued to pound blood through my veins so loud I could hear it. As I put the daily Bible verses into their pockets my heart was pounding so fast I didn't know if I'd be able to finish the task. Hurry. Hurry. Just hurry. I was moving at the speed of light ... I HAD to be with as fast as my heart was pumping. I knew that I was just a speeding bullet whizzing through this chore. Or was it slow motion? The only thing I was aware of was how terribly painful this was. I finished, grabbed the bag the calendar was in and rushed downstairs to put it back in the tub. I quickly did that and shoved the tub back into place. I walked upstairs and shut the basement door. I was exhausted. Breathe. Breathe. My heart was slowing down yet it was pounding at my ribs to escape. I walked back to my office feeling as if I'd just run a mile ... or more. It was a calendar. One lowly calendar. The actions were painful. The memories were worse.

About an hour later, Lance walked by the calendar and stretched out his hand to touch it. He smiled and said nothing. Not long after that I heard a deep giggle coming from Blake. "Tomorrow is December first. You put the calendar up." He came walking into my office with a big grin on his face, he kissed me goodnight, and he walked off. They will never know the pain putting that calendar up caused me. They will never understand what happened tonight or how I had to battle horrible emotions for them. I hope they never are able to comprehend what's happening inside my head and my body as I do these things. If a calendar can cause this, I can't even imagine what's going to happen with the tree. I don't want to put it up. I don't want to do any of it. I just want to go to Tahiti or something like that. Christmas in the sun is a very good thing! Christmas in Minnesota with a fully decked out Christmas tree just isn't what I want on my agenda, but the boys want it. The sacrifices we make for our children ...

I am not looking forward to any of it. I don't want to do it, yet I will. As always, I will face the demon head-on. I won't like it, I won't enjoy it, and I know there is going to be tears, heartache, sadness, and frustration. I thought maybe the couple of years would've softened the feelings a bit, but that just hasn't happened. As I dig through the Christmas tubs I know her stuff will pop out at me. I know that there will be her Christmas favorites tucked inside them waiting to surprise me and catch me off guard. I don't know if I'll have enough ornaments for my large tree without all of her ornaments. I don't know if I'll be buying more, I don't know if the boys will let me NOT put her ornaments on, I just don't know what to expect except the fact that it's going to be one of the toughest things I've had to face since she's died. I really don't want the boys to have to watch me be a bubbling mess, yet I won't decorate that tree alone. What a joke. Wish we could just burn it all. Heck, it's not even a Biblical holiday. It's all totally man-made with lots of leftovers from pagan rituals. Sounds just wonderful ... uh, no it doesn't. There are just so many reasons I'm dreading this.

A Merry Christmas? I doubt it. A "plaster a fake smile on my face and keep the tissues handy" kind of month is what I see. Wake me in February. Hibernation sounds good.

Specific Prayers:
~For comfort and peace during the month of December for all those who have lost children.

CANCER REALLY, REALLY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, October 28, 2009 4:31 PM CDT

As I was sitting at my desk earlier in the week, I was thinking about cleaning. Cleaning??? Ugh. Cleaning is not my favorite subject. The surface cleaning isn't so bad, but I especially don't like the deep cleaning, move all the furniture and get every single dustbunny and cobweb kind of cleaning. But, it must be done. I have the assistance of my boys so I've been making up a game plan on how we can go through the house area by area and then just keep doing it so that the dust bunnies actually never accumulate under the furniture or on the highest window ledge.

As I was working on my gameplan, the kids' rooms came to mind. Need to move all the furniture and clean out the closets. Blake's, Lance's .... Rachel's. Ahhh, Rachel's room. Clean out the closet? I don't think so. Her room is still the same as it was when she died. Her clothes are there. Her stuffed animals are there. Her Twins signed baseball is there. Her Dora The Explorer alarm clock is there. Her picture of her Grandpa Eide (Jodi's dad) and the picture of Emme (Godsister) are still there. Nothing has changed.

Before Rachel died I would've been shaking my head because people are supposed to "move on" after death. They aren't supposed to keep all that stuff, they aren't supposed to leave rooms the same, they aren't supposed to keep all their clothes, their toys, or their treasured possessions. What's wrong with "those" people???? Now I am one. Now I understand. Now I've walked that mile. Now I get it.

We don't "need" Rachel's room. We don't "need" the closet space. It isn't necessary to clean anything out to make room for something else. Could I find something to put in her closet?? Sure ... all my quilting stuff!!! But it doesn't HAVE to go there. Could I find something else to put in that room? Sure, who couldn't? Do I have to? No. It has a bed in it which we have used on several occasions for visitors, but I guess we could get by without a guest bed. But why? So it sits. Her Barbies, her Bitty Baby, her Polly Pockets, her Littlest Petshop toys, her dollhouse, her dress-up clothes, her collection of "stuff", her ..... Yeah, you get the idea. It's all there. Every once in a while Lance will come out of her bedroom requesting to keep something. "Can I have Rachel's _________?" Of course he can. Of COURSE he can.

I don't sit in her room and cry. Who needs to go to her room to do that? I don't sit in her room and remember. Who needs to go to her room to do that? I don't really go into her room for anything except to open windows on beautiful days, put a porta-crib up to put my napping great nephew in when I have him, and clean. Yet, the idea of changing anything sends shivers up my spine. I thought at one time that I could get rid of her clothes. I went up to her room about a year ago and found I couldn't do it. Do I have to? I don't think so. Her room is there. It sits the way it is. We don't need the space. If it doesn't bother any of us to leave it the way it is, why should anyone else care?

Maybe I'll turn her clothes into memory quilts one day .... but not today. There is no hurry. I don't know when I'll be able to tackle that difficult task, but not right now. It's been almost 2 1/2 years (how can it be???) but there is no need to do anything. Two years and counting and the pain is still raw, the tears still come, and the ache is still mind boggling. It's a hole so deep and so dark that it can not be conceived unless you're living with that hole. And every month it seems I hear about another parent losing their child to cancer. It's a horrible disease. One I can only sit and shake my head at. It's one of those diseases where you can pretty much say that everyone you know has been affected by it, and if they haven't, they will be. Horrible ... just horrible.

So we will clean the dustbunnies under her bed. We will vacuum her curtains and polish her shelves. We will move her stuffed animals, her Twins baseball, her pictures and her clock so that we can clean and polish and we will put them right back again. We will open the closet doors and run the vacuum along the edges, move the toys and other items to thoroughly dust, and we will replace everything once again into it's original position. While we do it we'll talk about her, what she'd be doing, what her favorite things were and what we think they'd be now, and we'll laugh through the heartache. We'll clean her room as we will clean all the others. Then we will leave it until the next time, when we will do it all over again. Maybe one of those times we'll say, "We're ready." But not yet. No, not yet. And you know what? It's okay. It really is.

Specific Prayers:
~For all those parents suffering with the loss of a child.
~For all those affected by cancer.
~For everyone's health during this early flu season.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, October 3, 2009 9:02 AM CDT

"So how DO you get to heaven?" was the question we left off with in the last journal. Since then, I think our family has seen a bit of heaven. We took a trip to the Black Hills and enjoyed some of the expansive and unique creations that our God has given to us to experience. The landscape, the animals, and the rock formations are exquisite. We sure do not have anything close to that type of beauty here in Minnesota. Oh, not that Minnesota isn't beautiful (as I look out my office window and watch deer graze in my backyard), it's just a different type of beauty.

One never really knows what to expect when you pack the family into a RV and hit the road. We prayed that it would be a fun-filled, disaster-free, not too much bickering type of vacation and that's exactly what we got. WHEW!!! :-)

We were fortunate enough to be able to witness a night blasting at the Crazy Horse monument. We had to stop on the road to let the herd of buffalo pass in front of us. We had to stop on the road to let the antelope pass in front of us. We had to stop on the road to let the deer pass in front of us. We had to inch our way along the road as the bull buffalo in front of us decided that he owned the road and he was most definitely going to use the road to get to where ever it was that he was going. We drove through hairpin turns with cliffs for edges and tunnels so narrow that some pickup trucks had to turn their side mirrors in so they didn't hit the sides (no, we weren't in the RV ... we rented a car). Yes, it was a wonderful experience enjoyed by our entire family. We're thinking Yellowstone is next!

Yes, a piece of heaven on earth. Then again, maybe not. The Feast of Tabernacles (a feast commanded in the Old Testament) is being celebrated this week. Sukkah's (shacks, huts, or booths) are built in yards across the world in rememberance of what the Israelites lived in while in the desert for 40 years after the Exodus. These rickety booths also represent the temporary endurance of material buildings as opposed to the permanent and abiding strength of our Lord and the heavenly shelter that He promises. Surprisingly, the commandment in Leviticus to celebrate this feast was the verse that caused the pilgrims at Plymouth to offer their thanks to God for the harvest because the Feast of Tabernacles also has a lot to do with the gathering and harvesting of crops of the land. Our American Thanksgiving Day celebration grew out of this festival. Never learned that in public school did ya?

A rickety booth symbolizes this earth and how temporary it is. The fall harvest also symbolizes God's final harvest of His children. Jesus said to those who believe and trust in Him, "There are many homes up there where my Father lives, and I am going to prepare them for your coming. When everything is ready, then I will come and get you, so that you can always be with me where I am" (John 14:2-3). Ahhhh .... heaven. He said it to those who believed and trusted in Him. What of those that don't? What of those that say they do, but they don't walk their talk?

Jesus said that it would be easier for a camel to walk through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to make it to heaven. He also said "Not everyone who says to me,'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven" (Matthew 7:21). Scary thought. VERY scary thought.

"... God now commands all men everywhere to repent, because He has appointed a day on which He will judge the world in righteousness by the Man whom He has ordained. He has given assurance of this to all by raising Him from the dead" (Acts 17: 30-31). We need righteousness because we must stand before God in judgement. "Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived. Neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor homosexuals, nor sodomites, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners will inherit the kingdom of God" (1 Corinthians 6:9-10). I think many like to live life for themselves. Yet, as we saw by looking at the Ten Commandments, we must realize that we have broken God's Law. The verse from 1 Corinthians makes it clear that we won't see heaven.

God sees us as liars and all liars will have their place in the Lake of Fire. God doesn't hold people guiltless who have used His holy name as a swear word. We know that adultery is a sin, yet Christ said those who look after another with lust have committed adultry. Those who hate committ murder. Those who have stolen--doesn't matter the item or quantity or if you think you deserve it--are thieves. Those who wish they had something that someone else has covets those items. Those who put money, work, children, house, etc. in front of God are breaking the first commandment. Those who say, "Well, MY god is ....." or "The god I believe in ...." are more times than not making up their own god and not talking about the God that's in the Bible. They are making Him into who they want Him to be, not who He tells us He is.

A lot of modern preaching can make people deaf to the Truth of the Bible. This modern preaching philosophy is to water down the truth and tell people what they want to hear. If you keep the people comfortable then they'll continue to come back and fill up the pews. If they're in the pews, they're putting money in the plate. But we must not allow ourselves to be lulled by that type of preaching. We must realize that we are going to be in big trouble on Judgment Day, and that we deserve to go to hell. I don't know about you, but I don't want to go to hell--that's an experience I just don't want to have.

God makes it very clear that not everyone is going to heaven. If you remember correctly, God works in small numbers. He started the earth with ONE man and ONE woman. He could've created multitudes, but he didn't. ONE man, ONE woman. One plus one equals two. Two! That's it ... two. Then God wiped out the entire earth except for EIGHT. Eight! He wiped out EVERYONE else and saved eight. Then He chose ONE man, Abraham, to be the father of His people. One! Only one! From that one man He chose One! He chose Isaac. From that one man He chose One! He chose Jacob. He has chosen one culture as His own. He chose the Israelites. One man. One woman. Four men. Four women. One man. One man. One man. One culture. None of these numbers are even double digits. He chose small numbers from multitudes. Why do we think everyone is going to heaven? Jesus says the path is wide but the gate is narrow. We must enter through the narrow gate which means not everyone is going to fit.

Are you going to fit? Are you going to be one of the small numbers? Are you right with God? When we aren't right with God, we tend to not read the Bible. We don't want to be convicted. We also like to think that by planting our butt in a pew every Sunday we're going to be saved. This is the practice of going to church, not the practice of following Christ. Don't be deceived into thinking that everyone who says he is a Christian is filled with God's Holy Spirit. The Bible says that there are many weeds among the wheat.

We have all sinned and only Jesus has power on earth to forgive sins. No other person, no other god, no other being has that power. If a man has just been convicted of murder, the judge must punish him if he is a fair and just judge. He must send him to prison, make him pay a fine, or both. If God is a fair and just judge, which He is, He must punish all that break His commandments. We are all guilty. That means we will all be sent to hell.

The murderer is standing in front of the judge as he hands down the punishment that he must pay two trillion dollars or go to prison for the rest of his life. Nobody could pay that fine. He would end up in prison. He would die there. The guards handcuff him and start leading him away when someone walks in and gives the judge two trillion dollars in cash. The man's freedom has been bought. The judge looks at the man and tells him he's free to go. That's what Jesus did for us two thousand years ago. He was brutally whipped and beaten, and nailed to a cross. He willingly shed His blood and died in our place so that we could be forgiven. We have broken the Law and Jesus has paid our fine--He took our punishment for us.

Have you put your trust in God's Son? It doesn't do any good to just believe in Christ, you must trust in Him. Trusting in Him means you must turn your life over to Him and you must follow His commands. You can't just believe He's God's Son, you must trust Him to run your life. It's no different than a skydiver with his parachute. He can't just believe the parachute is there, he must trust in it for his life. Same with Christ. We must beg forgiveness and we must turn away from sin (work hard at not breaking any of His commands).

We can all get to heaven, it's just do we choose to? Any fear that has arisen in your heart thinking about this is a good thing, because that fear will be nothing compared to the fear we will have if we face God on Judgment Day without the Savior. Drop to your knees, confess your sins to God, and give your life to Jesus Christ. Then pick up your Bible and read--even if it's hard to hear--because you want to know more about the One who loves you so much that He died for you to save you from the clutches of hell. We can have eternal life, and be found "not guilty" on the Day of Judgment, not because we're good people but simply because of God's mercy.

Heaven ... no, I doubt we see any of it here on earth. I'm thankful Rachel knew Jesus and I pray my other two children cling to their faith in Him for the rest of their lives. It's easy to get distracted and it's easy to let others tell us what the Bible says rather than reading it for ourselves. When we put on our "Biblical glasses" and start looking at the world through them, we see an entirely different view ... a better one full of truth, and light, and hope even in the face of sadness and tragedy.

Specific Prayers:
~For the knowledge that this life is temporary but that there is a way for eternal life in heaven.
~For the knowledge that the Feasts foreshadow Christ.
~Guard the health of our families during this flu season.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sunday, August 30, 2009 8:28 PM CDT

She is everywhere. I guess she always will be. We went to a 50th Anniversary party for Rachel's godmother's parents. She would've loved it. Some of her favorite people were there (uh, Tammy, that would be Emme--tee hee!!). She would've layed items out for Tammy "just so". She would've drawn the bride and groom of 50 years a picture. She would've swiped the cake with her finger to get some icing. Instead, we talked about her. We talked about what she would be doing had she been there, we talked about things she did while alive, and we talked about her death.

Today we went to Mark's mom's and had family pictures. She wasn't in the picture of the grandkids. She should've been. We didn't do just our family, it was Mark's siblings and spouses but not seperate ones of our families ... I flatly refused that several weeks ago. We may not take a formal family picture until one of the boys gets married. Until then, the family pictures we have from before Rachel died are what we display, what we use, what we show. Yes, we have candids of just our family, but I have no interest in a formal picture of our family the way it is now. Not yet. Why should we? I have no interest in displaying something like that. There are pictures of her all over this house ... including the ones of our family and that's the way we all want it.

Lance needs a family picture for school. He chose the one of our family from three years ago. There was no way he was leaving Rachel out of it. We all feel the same way. I told my girlfriend that maybe when the boys get married I'll just take pictures of their wives and superimpose them on the family picture we already have. We both laughed when we realized that the superimposed women would be adults and that their husbands would be 7 and 12. That wouldn't really matter, would it??? I told her I didn't think anybody would notice. We laughed all the harder.

If you don't laugh, you cry. Laughter can be a big cover-up when all you want to do is sob. The emotions must release some how. And so we laugh ... and laugh ... and laugh. There are lots of emotions to deal with. Lots of tears still shed.

Another school year looms ahead along with the thoughts of the grade she'd be in, what she'd be into, and how tall she would be. Would her hair still be blonde? Would she still be more than a head shorter than her friends? Would she still wear pink camo? I think yes to all ... but we'll never really know.

Another sunset which will bring another sunrise. Another week, another month, another season will pass and we will again be left wondering where the time has gone. I still can't believe I lived a week without her let alone that I've now lived over two years without her. All I can do is shake my head. It's too big to fathom. It's just too mighty to grasp. Yet, here I am. Here we all are.

We move into another day. We move into another month. We move into another season. We continue to move toward an unknown day. We move farther away from her death, yet each day brings us closer to our own. Tomorrow could be it. Or maybe it's the next day. Or it could be next month. Maybe it's next year. The possibilities are endless for each and every one of us. What are your thoughts about heaven? What about hell? How are you going to be judged when you stand in front of the Almighty Judge?

I've always found it fascinating when talking about heaven that everyone thinks they are going there. When asked why they say, "Because I'm a good person." Yet, Jesus said, "Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone." (Matthew 10:18) If we're not good, then it's not our goodness that's getting us into heaven. Have you ever REALLY thought about what it takes to get to heaven? Are you just assuming that you're going there? Christ also told us that we should not be deceived about who was and who was not going to heaven. There are many verses that teach us what is required. I find it interesting that so many people who say they're going to heaven have no clue about those verses or even where to begin to find them. I think many take Judgement Day as something that's never going to happen. For their sake I hope they're right. Have you ever thought about what if they're not? I guess I'm not willing to take that chance.

I know where Rachel is. We got proof positive of that for many weeks before she died. I don't think angels stick around people who are going to hell. I have no doubt where she is because I know that she knew her Lord and Savior on a personal level. For myself, well, I'm not willing to believe others over the Lord's Word. Christ also told us that the gate to heaven is narrow ... yet, I know a lot of people who think everyone is going there.

So, have you thought about it? Will you be guilty or innocent on the day of judgement? If God is fair, He must judge us fairly. What does that look like? If a man murders but once, he is a murderer. If he were to stand in front of a judge in a court of law and tell the judge that he really was a good person and that he worked in the soup kitchen and gave money to the Red Cross should the judge let him go? No. He can't. That wouldn't be fair. He would have to find him guilty and send him to prison. Same with God. How do you fare against the Ten Commandments? Are you guilty or innocent? Don't think you're a murderer? Do you know that Christ said hating someone is the same as murder? I have yet to meet someone who has never hated someone. That makes us all murderers. Ever told a lie? Of course ... we all have. That makes us liars. How about stolen anything? This includes pencils, paperclips, making copies at work, stealing work time to talk to friends on the phone or be on the internet, etc., etc., etc., etc. I don't know anyone that hasn't stolen something and if you say you haven't ... well, we already know that you're a liar!:-) Therefore, we're all thieves. How about adultery? Never committed adultery? Did you know that Christ said that anyone who lusts after another person has committed adultery? Sorry to say I have yet to meet anyone who passed that one either. That makes us all adulterers. That's four of the ten. So far we're lieing, thieving, murdering, adulterers. Sad, isn't it? So if we're going to be judged by these standards, how will God judge you? Will you be guilty or innocent? We are all guilty. Are you sure you're going to heaven? Are you willing to bet your eternal life on it? If we're guilty, we're going to hell. So how DO you get to heaven?

Specific Prayers:
~For the desire of multitudes to want to follow God's Word and have eternal life with Him.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!

Friday, August 14, 2009 10:09 AM CDT

It seems that with kids there is always some sort of medical bill coming to the door. Everything from the dentist, orthodontist, oral surgeon, eye doctor, foot doctor, allergist, pediatrician, (breath) ... and that's just the past six months! And only my two oldest children! We won't even go into the 7-digit dollar number of Rachel. Oh, well. What do you do?

Blake will be getting his braces off next month (he couldn't really have had them on for two years already, could he???), but Lance starts vision therapy next week. Yes, vision therapy. Last spring, Lance's teacher and I had a long discussion about his academics. I was told that although he tested WAY ahead in several subjects, his reading was lagging quite a bit behind--but of course, not far enough behind to qualify for services through the school. THAT wonderful kindergarten teacher of "ours" volunteered to tutor Lance on her own time before school last spring, so we took her up on it.

Lance's teacher, THAT tutor, and I discussed what we were seeing him do (or not do) and we tried working on these issues at home and during his tutoring sessions. At one point, THAT tutor asked if I'd had his eyes checked. I shot her a quizzical look and said, "He's got 20/20 vision." The subject was dropped.

During the summer, I've been researching phonics programs so we can work with him at home. While doing this, a woman I was speaking with asked me if I'd had his eyes checked by an eye doctor and not just by the schools or his pediatrician. This question sounded a tad too familiar. I asked her why. She went on to explain that many times kids who are Lance's age and who still have the issues that Lance is having with reading are actually having what's called a "convergence" issue--the eyes aren't working together. I went to work on the research end of it.

When children first learn to read, it's not only the unfamiliarity with words and sounds that creates the choppy reading, but it's also the fact that our eyes aren't focusing at the same time on the words. As our eyes move across the page, we need them to take in the words at the same time (not right eye, left eye; right eye, left eye; right eye, left eye--but simultaneously). With practice and with age, our eyes generally do this on their own, but there are some people who never have this happen. These people tend to not like to read (not that they don't WANT to read, they don't like it because it's hard and the words/letters are blending together, floating off the page, and doing other bizarre things that those of us who don't have this issue have never had to deal with). They often have headaches while reading because they are trying so hard to keep the words in focus. They also mix up common letters like b, d, p because they're blurred, they skip words, and they see the first couple of letters of a word and then guess at it in context because it's either blurred, floating, or doing some other oddity.

Well, that was enough information for me to make the eye appointment. Because not every eye doctor specializes in this issue, I had to find one that did. I took Lance in, he was put through an extensive exam and with only minor input from me the eye doctor pretty much told Lance and I all about how Lance was able and not able to read. He described him to a "T". As the doctor said, Lance has all of his "hardware" and "software", so there's no physical reason why we won't be able to train his eyes to do what they're supposed to do. He has perfect vision and this issue is not correctable with glasses. Thank goodness what he has is Classic Convergence Insufficiency and with vision therapy he should be able to train his eyes to turn on that switch that's been in the off position, for some reason. Lance is very excited!

"Does that mean I'm going to like to read like you and Blake, Mom?" he asked me excitedly as we left the eye doctor. What a sweetie. Of course, the eye doctor told me that we can never guarantee that he'll LIKE to read, but we should be able to make it so that he CAN read. Hopefully the two will come together. :-) As with all therapy with children, they do it through play. Lance was introduced to his therapist and got to do some of the exercises that they use in the clinic. He is so excited to go back. And if it's going to help him to read ... this mom will do just about anything. Including adding vision therapy to the stack of medical bills.

Yes, with children and as we age, medical bills seem to be something one just can't get around. And now the government wants to control that, too. I will not soapbox politics here, but I will say do your own research when it comes to the healthcare issue. Do not allow yourself to be spoonfed by anyone on either side! With liberty and freedom also comes responsibility to be informed correctly. We all know that we can't believe everything we hear, everything we read, nor can we even believe everything we see anymore. What's truth? What's not?

The only truth that I know I can stand on is God and His Son, Jesus Christ. I pray that He shows me the truth when I research, that He gives me discernment to see through deception and twisted truths, and that He show me how whatever I'm researching lines up with His will. I hope that you will lean on His never-ending knowledge to show you what's correct and right and not leave it to your own opinion, you're own judgement, or your own way. Trust me, I don't always like God's way, but better that than burning in the Lake of Fire with "grinding and knashing of teeth" for eternity! God's will will always be done and we already know the end of the story. Although we may not win every battle, we know who ultimately wins the war. I'll take His side every time. Pray for truth. Pray for discernment. Pray His will be done. Test everything against scripture. Does it stand? Keep it. Does it fall? Get far away from it.

Medical bills .... hmmmmmmm ... Jesus sure did a lot of healing. Do you think he took insurance? :-)

Specific Prayers:
~That vision therapy allows Lance to read at level or better.
~That Blake gets his braces off in September (before school pictures would be nice).
~For safety in travel.
~For God's will to be done on Earth, as it is in Heaven.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!

Sunday, July 19, 2009 8:50 AM CDT

I heard it said recently, that after the first year of anniversaries are over that one will then feel better and be "over it". Sadly, for some reason that's what our society teaches. Why do we have that unrealistic expectation of each other? Why do we expect that on Day 366 all the pain is just going to be wiped away? Why do we think that our friends, neighbors, family, and acquaintances should just be over their loved ones because it's been a year since their death? It is with hung head that I admit I also used to think that. Why is society so cold and cruel to it's members?

It wasn't until my mother died that I realized this pain was never going to go away. It would dull, it would ebb and flow, and I would learn to live with it, but it would never completely go away. And I didn't even live with her. No, I didn't live with her but I spent a lot of time with her and I talked to her not everyday ... but almost! I can't tell you how many times I picked up my phone to call my mom because there was something I needed to talk to her about before realizing that the phone wasn't going to do me much good. That habit of talking to her so frequently was a tough one to break even though she died. My mind still expected to talk to her. Every once in a while I still get the "Gotta call mom and talk to her about ________". Then I stop dead in my tracks and remember how that would be quite something to accomplish!

Many in society act as if losing a parent, a grandparent, a friend, an acquaintance, a pet, or a child are all one in the same. That is such a blatant untruth that it just makes me squirm. People comparing the loss of their dog to my mother made me just shake my head. I also shake my head at the "I've lost my grandmother so I know what it's like to lose your child". Huh??? No, you don't. Plain and simple. No, you don't. And you know what? It's okay that you don't. We don't always have to understand what each other is going through as long as we care enough to be there. My best friends can't even imagine what it would be like to lose a child and they've lost parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, ... and pets. It's okay that they don't understand. Trust me, I don't ever want them to be able to fully understand. Yet, society teaches us that we should "understand" and that we should sympathize by telling each other that we do. Think about that one before you go to your next funeral.

Grief is not something you get over. It is truly something you learn to live with. It's a deep, dark hole or a nasty wound. The hole has very sharp edges that with time will dull, but never completely become smooth. You will continue to get cut by the edges of that hole whenever you come too close. The hole is too large to fill, jump over, go around, or climb through. Therefore you take the big, black hole with you wherever you go. You learn to live with it. Just like a nasty wound. It scabs over, but something will happen to remove part, or all, of the scab and it oozes again. The scab will reform, but you bump it and it hurts, you scrape it lightly and it cracks and bleeds, you rub it off in the shower and it must reform again. Eventually the wound will heal, but it can be a very long and painful process. Even when it does finally heal with the last parts of the scab falling away, it leaves a scar and you will never look or feel the same again. We also know that just because the wound is now healed on the outside, it can still give us unseen problems such as pain, limping, or not working quite the way it used to. It can also be reinjured.

Grief and injuries are a lot alike. They are always there waiting to burst to the surface causing pain, emotion, tears, and hurt. Just because you're a year away from a back, hip, or heart surgery doesn't mean that you never again have to deal with it, feel it, or have to doctor for it. Same with grief. Just because you're a year from it--or two or ten or thirty--doesn't mean that it doesn't still hurt. I don't expect it to ever stop hurting. Losing Rachel has been something beyond what I can put into writing. It's the most extraordinary, gut-wrenching, heart-stopping, "just kill me" type of pain that I have ever experienced. Yes, in two years the edges of it have dulled a bit. Yes, you will see us laughing and enjoying life. Yes, life moves forward with each sunrise and each sunset. Yes, we continue to get older. None of it means that you're "over it". None of it. We've learned to live with it. The pain is far from gone. We don't expect it to ever leave. It will form us until we die. It is our new normal.

God gave us the emotion of love. Sin has given us death. To die in God's love, knowing our Savior, gives us eternal life. It also gives us peace knowing that Rachel is in the arms of Jesus and that we will see her again if we but trust in the Lord and follow His commands. Yes, we have painful grief because we loved Rachel and still do. We also have "the peace that passeth all understanding" because we love the Lord. It is not by our own power that we live each day without our loved ones in it. It is not by our own power that we raise our children under what could be a terrible black cloud. It is not by our own power that we even get up in the morning. Our strength comes from the Lord. We give all the credit to Him.

No, the pain doesn't go away on day 366. Actually, I've been told it will never go away and I don't doubt that for one moment. But with the Lord's help we live life each and everyday enjoying what is set before us. There will always be the ache, the longing, the pain. It is what it is. We move forward yet never "moving on". There is a difference. And it's okay.

Specific Prayers:
~For continued peace for our family.
~For safety in travel this summer.
~For love and laughter in abundance.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, July 10, 2009 8:18 AM CDT

Rachel's been gone two years; Mark's dad and my mom have both been gone four years. It seems longer. It seems as if we haven't seen them in ages. As my girlfriend said who lost her dad just a month before we lost Mark's dad, "I'm tired of him being dead. I just want him back." Ditto. Big ditto. I'm tired of them being dead, too. All of them.

All the anniversaries are over for the year. Everyone's birthdays, deathdays, and funeral days are now all past. But, there are wedding anniversaries, other people's birthdays, holidays, and special occasions coming where their presence will be sorely missed. It's never ending. There's always that emptiness. You just learn to live with it. It will never be filled. I guess that's a good thing.

I would never want anything to take the place of my mother or my daughter. I would never want that Rachel-shaped hole in my heart to close up. I would never want to stop thinking about her, loving her, or missing her. I don't ever want the tears to stop flowing ... maybe a little less would be nice, but never completely stop. I don't ever want to see a picture of her and my emotions not take a jolt. I don't ever want to not think about her with longing. If I didn't miss her or long for her as much as I do, then I would know that I didn't love her very much or that she wasn't an important part of my daily life. When put that way, I want it to hurt as much as possible. I think it does.

And life marches forward. Onward Christian soldiers. March, march, left, right, left. Moving forward and living life to it's fullest extent. There is no other way to do it but to keep moving and keep living life. I look forward to the day where there is no more weeping, no more mourning, no more death. What a joyous life that will be! Come, Lord Jesus.

Specific Prayers:
~For continued guidance in all life's adventures.

CANCER CERTAINLY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, June 6, 2009 2:21 PM CDT

Two years. How can it be two years? They are the worst two years of my life. I don't think there is anything that could ever happen that would be worse than losing a child ... except to lose another one. If there is, I don't want to experience it because this has been so wretchedly horrible. Not that there isn't joy and laughter, smiles and fun, and enjoyment of life and events ... because there is. Yet they are always twinged with the sadness that is our new reality. That sadness-- that longing, it will just always be there.

"Forever healed, the miracle did come, even though it came with goodbye--" wrote a teenager from Lakeville South Highschool, whom we do not know, in a poem for our family about Rachel just a few weeks after her death. It was not what we wanted, it wasn't what we expected, it certainly wasn't what we prayed for. But it was the answer we received. Healed, but gone. We had to say goodbye to not only the cancer, but to her.

No, we don't have to like our answers, but we do have to accept them. We don't have to understand God's ways, but we do have to accept them. We don't have to see to believe, understand to accept, or hold it to love it. It just is. What are you going to do about it? How are you going to change it? The answer is: Nothing and you aren't.

Reinhold Niebuhr got it so right in his Serenity Prayer.
"God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen."

Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will direct your paths. Proverbs 3:5-6

Specific Prayers:
~For continued peace for our family.
~That our family will forever trust Christ to know what's best.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, May 18, 2009 4:42 PM CDT

As I've stated before, life just keeps moving forward. Blake confirmed his Baptism this past weekend and we celebrated his Confirmation with a buffet dinner on a paddleboat. What fun! The grandparents and our family had an enjoyable time.

Last Wednesday, the Confirmation class read their Faith Statements in front of their parents, extended family, and church members. Blake talked about how his faith was both challenged and deepend by his sister's illness and death. True to form, he was comical, serious, and truly at ease in front of the crowd. He played on our emotions by drawing laughter several times during his statement with properly placed comical statements, and then turned serious and sorrowful as he spoke of his sister. He announced to everyone that he has accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. We couldn't have been prouder than at that moment.

In trying to make sense of Rachel's illness and death, we have discussed the idea that if even one person were brought to Christ because of everything she went through would it not all be worth it? The idea that it could be her brother makes me stick my fingers in my ears and sing, "La la la la la la la ..." so that I can no longer hear those thoughts. We would like to think that he would've come to Christ even if she had been a healthy child who lived a long life. We will never have the opportunity to find out.

So our teenage son has now had another once-in-a-lifetime experience as far as publically announcing his Confirmation, and we pray that he will spend a lifetime worshipping, following, and living in Christ. Sure wish Rachel would've been here to enjoy the festivities with us and to be in the family pictures. Every time something like this happens, the hole in our family shows up as a big, black smudge. Yet we paste on a smile, we sprinkle our words with laughter, we hug with gusto, and pull a curtain on the hole in our hearts and in our lives. We continue to put one foot in front of the other, living one day after another, celebrating one milestone after another, knowing that with each day we live we get farther and farther from her death, and closer and closer to seeing her again.

Specific Prayers:
~That the Holy Spirit dwell within Blake so strongly that he never forget or turn his back on his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Blake's favorite Bible verse: And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Revelation 21:3-4

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!

Monday, April 20, 2009 8:59 AM CDT

I stood looking at her gravesite. It looked a bit forlorn with last year's decorations clumped amongst the new ones that have been left for her this year. Pots full of dirt and sticks that used to be beautiful flowers lay haphazardly on the ground. At least the sun was shining and it was warm.

A large, black garbage bag was quickly filled with old flower pots, broken ornaments, faded letters and pictures, and other odds and ends left from last year. Lance and I then arranged the new items that we had brought along with what seemed to be millions of pinwheels that had been left just this spring. We added our own pinwheels, a large shimmering pinwheel/windsock, and some other trinkets next to the Easter egg, the new note left with love, the shell necklace, and other things. I also potted some pansies and put them in the pot holder.

Lance and I stepped away from her grave and I couldn't help but giggle as the millions of pinwheels whirled in the wind. Lance adjusted each one so that they were all twirling. He stepped back again. The windchimes tinkled. It looked "sweet". The gravesite looked loved once again. We looked at each other and smiled. She would've loved it. Yes, she would've loved it, but I just felt empty. Even "Windmill City" couldn't touch the hole inside.

Driving home from church yesterday, Lance and I swung through the cemetary (Mark & Blake were at a convention). I was expecting to see Windmill City, the cutely decorated gravesite, and what I saw only deepened my feeling of sadness. The deer had eaten all of the pansies. Every last one of them was chewed off down to the nubbins. The pinwheel/windsock was gone with just the pole that it had been twirling on standing lonely in the dirt. I walked up to the gravesite, in the rain no-less, with a heavy heart. I fingered the dirt that the pansies had been bedded in. "Stupid deer," I thought, "this isn't a buffet line." Shaking me from my thoughts I hear, "The wind must've taken it, Mom," Lance stated referring to the multi-colored pinwheel/windsock that he had put together and staked into the ground. I started walking the cemetary and quickly found it.

The pinwheel/windsock, along with it's pole, got a ride home where it will get some doctoring with some duct tape. Her gravesite will remain flowerless until it's warm enough to put out geraniums ... deer don't eat those. At least it's still Windmill City and that in-and-of-itself is darn cute.

I guess I have to go buy nine pink balloons today so that we can release them tonight at her grave once everyone is home. It's cold and dreary out today which matches my insides. Currently rain is spitting at my window. I'd like to just curl up in front of the fireplace with a blanket and a bag of chips. That'll help, won't it? Hhhhhrrrrruuummmmmpppphh. Nine pink balloons. At a gravesite. I want to be shoving nine pink candles into a cake. I want to be watching her unwrap presents. I want to hear her laughter. I want to hug her. You have no idea how badly I just want to hug her. My arms are so empty.

Another year gone. Another will go by. Today is but another day in a string of days that stretch forever. I'm cold and sad and I don't want to think about it. I have yet to learn how to do that one. Nine years ago, the day she was born, seems so far away right now. So much has happened in those nine years.

We were so excited that she was a girl! Everyone was! After two boys, we really wanted a girl. I remember questioning the doctor, "Really? It's a girl?" He presented her to me face down, upside down, butt first. "YES!! It's a girl!!" Okay, I got it! Sheesh! Turn her right side up and hand her to me! Poor thing! Short, fat, lots of dark hair baby Rachel. At 9 pounds 10 ounces and only 20 inches long, she had LOTSA rolls! Laying there looking at her I could hardly believe she was a girl. When Mark started making the phone calls he was beaming as he was announcing the sex of the baby and I was always able to hear the exclamation of the person on the other end from their excitement. It was a wonderful time. It's a really good thing that we don't know what the future brings. It's a good thing that we don't know what lies ahead in store for us. It's such a good thing.

Now we wait. We wait to see her again. We go about our lives missing her everyday. We function "normally" yet our insides ache. We live each day yet a part of us will always be missing. We move through life learning to live with the black hole of grief. Some days are harder than others ... like her birthday, holidays, or being at places and doing things that she would've been doing. Instead we memorialize her.

Today, Lance is having lunch with his and Rachel's kindergarten teacher ("That" teacher) and his guidance counselor. They are having Rachel's favorite: cheese pizza, cupcakes, and orange pop. We feel very blessed that we have such caring people in our children's and our lives. Me? I'm still scrounging for that bag of chips!

The sun will set on today just as any other day and it will rise again tomorrow just like it did yesterday and it will the day after. The cycle will continue. People will be born and people will die ... everyday. We have no choice but to accept it. No choice at all. Although my heart is heavy today, it is at peace. Although I can wish things were different, I know it's not the complete end but just an ending to the way I once knew things. I think the only thing that I have trouble with is the longing to hold her and to hug her. It seems God's eternal plan hasn't filled that one for me ... at least not yet.

Specific Prayers:
~That the Lord hold us tight today as we traverse the rocky road of her birthday.

CANCER REALLY, REALLY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, April 7, 2009 3:00 PM CDT

Today I met a little boy with the exact same birthday as Rachel. Same day, same year, just 10 hours younger. He was telling me about the birthday party he's going to have next weekend. Yeah ... that birthday party that I should be planning. But, there goes those "should be's" again. And it shouldn't be. It wasn't meant to be. It's never going to be. Therefore, it shouldn't be. I just want it to be. For me. Yes, grief is such a selfish emotion. Yet, we must have it.

Should be's, could be's, would be's ... want it to be's.

"But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations." Psalm 33:11

"In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps." Proverbs 16:9

"Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails." Proberbs 19:21

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

"Man's days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed." Job 14:5

It all comes back to plans. My plans, or God's plans? Some of those I don't have a choice about. Our days are numbered. God has decreed for each of us the number of days we will live on this earth and nothing can change that. We choose how we live those days, but we don't get to choose the day we leave. Nothing we do changes that. Nothing. Nothing we did or did not do would change Rachel's death date being June 8, 2007. We could determine the quality of her life before that, but nothing we did or did not do changed that date. My plans were for her to live a long life ... at least outlive me. Those were not God's plans. Who prevailed? Who will always prevail?

We like to think we have control. We like to make plans and carry them out. It is all so trivial in the scope of things.

"Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief." Psalm 31:10

"Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men." Lamentations 3:32-33

"...they will mourn for him as one mourns for a child, and grieve bitterly for him as one grieves for a [child]." Zechariah 12:10b

It wasn't going to be. God didn't plan it to be. Therefore, it shouldn't be. I wish God would've asked for my opinion ..... :-)

Specific Prayers:
~To continue to draw our family close as we celebrate the death and resurrection of His Son, and help us to try and celebrate Rachel's life both here on earth and her everlasting one with Him--it's very difficult to do.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, March 25, 2009 2:52 PM CDT

I'm angry again. Her birthday is coming and I'm mad that she's not here to celebrate it. We should be sending out invitations, filling out wish lists, planning birthday cakes, and keeping secrets. But, no ... instead I'm thinking that now that the snow is melted I should go tend to her gravesite and clean up around it. Happy Birthday. Yeah .... right.

I've seen several of her friends this past week and I noticed how much they've changed. They're growing up. They aren't little kids anymore. I wonder how tall she'd be. I wonder if she'd still be into horses. I wonder if she'd still like the color pink .. and camoflauge ... and sweatpants ... and cowboy boots ... and butterfly kisses. I wonder ... I just wonder. And that's all I have. I have nothing else. Just my wonderings.

I wonder if she'd still drag Blue around everywhere (her blanket) ... I'm sure she would. I wonder if she'd still be collecting stuffed animals. Yeah, I'm sure she would. I wonder how long her hair would be and I wonder if she'd wear pig tails, pony tails, barrettes, clips, or if she'd have it cut short. I wonder if she'd still be playing tennis.

I wonder who she'd have for a teacher this year. I wonder if she'd like him/her. I wonder what she'd think of this year's Spring Activity Day at school (that yes, I'm once again planning). I wonder who else would've become her friends. I wonder what songs she would've liked and would be singing. I wonder if she'd still like the Barbie movies.

So many questions and wonderings, yet only one answer. It doesn't matter. None of it matters. It wasn't meant to be. And so it won't be. I can wonder and question until the cows come home and there still won't be what I would consider an acceptable answer. There just never will be. A mommy's heart will ache forever. That's the only answered part of it. I can't even begin to convey how much I miss her.

Specific Prayers:
~For our family to be held close during the upcoming weeks before her birthday.
~For peace in our hearts as we remember Rachel.
~For our family's safety as Blake learns to drive (yes, he got his permit)!

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, March 20, 2009 9:02 AM CDT

Yes, life just keeps moving, doesn't it? And with it, your children just keep growing. "Mom?" my 6'1" and still growing, deep voiced, fifteen-year old says. "Can we go get my permit today?" I want to dance around in circles screaming, "No, no, no, no, no!!!! You can't be old enough to do that!! You're still a child! You're my baby! No, no, no, no, no, and that's final!!!!" Instead I look up at him and say, "Maybe." Now there's a committed answer for you. "I have to find your social security card." "Will you look for it this morning?" I look at him with an exaggerated quizzical look and say, "I just don't know if I'm going to have time to do that. Friday is my cleaning day, you know." "Mahhhhhhhhhm!" Insert puppy eye look from said child. "PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE????????" Oh, for pete sakes. I have all I can do to not laugh. He's not sure if I'm joking or for real. "I'll look for it." "THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!!" I get a bear hug, a kiss, and a "I love you! See you after school!" Oh, most absolutely! I recommend that if you live anywhere near the southern metropolitan area of Minneapolis/St. Paul that you stear clear of the Eagan/Burnsville/Lakeville area at about 4:00 this afternoon!!!!!! Oh, this is going to be so scary!!!! I am SO not looking forward to him behind the wheel of my truck!! It will be okay .... right? AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!

Yes, the sun rises, the sun sets and the next thing you know you're in your 40's with children who are driving. Funny thing is, I don't remember blinking. I look back on his life of 15 years and realize how much has happened in what is really a short period of time. Then to break that down further to 10 years, and then to five years. It's really incredible. And then to the last year. So much happens. So much that we don't have control of. Some things bad, some good, some horrid, some elating. And so much of it one just doesn't have control over.

Moses defineately got it right when he wrote, "The length of our days is seventy years--or eighty, if we have the strength; yet their span is but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away." Psalm 90:10

Specific Prayers:
~For ALL drivers on the road this afternoon!
~For salvation of loved ones.
~For comfort for those who grieve.

Monday, March 9, 2009 12:52 AM CDT

On Friday, I was vacuuming and thinking about pictures of my kids. Just the day before I was telling my sister how bad I've been about getting pictures of my kids out to people. The packages that they've come home from school in are completely untouched. I don't even have the 8x10s up in my house. I'm not real fond of the pictures, that could be why. You know, the school pictures sometimes are pretty hokey. I pushed the vacuum cleaner around thinking about those pictures of the boys that I haven't done anything with. I kept pushing and thinking, pushing and thinking. "I should take the boys in somewhere and get their picture taken together. Haven't done that for a while," I thought to myself. The vacuum cleaner hummed away as I pushed it forward and then, in shock, stopped in my tracks. I looked up and out the window and couldn't believe what I had just thought to myself. It was an epiphanizing moment. (No, I don't know if that's a word, either, but it is right now.)

Yesterday was the 19th month anniversary of Rachel's death. I have to admit, I didn't even think about it. But I certainly did at 18 months. Strange. The epiphanizing moment was that I was even thinking about having a professional picture taken of the boys ... without Rachel. Nineteen months ago, eighteen months ago, even six months ago, that was not even an option. It would never have even entered my mind. As I stood in my tracks with the vacuum cleaner sucking up the carpet in that same small area, I realized--sadly--that I AM really learning to live with the Black Hole. Yes, I really am. Whether or not I like that fact, it's happening.

I started pushing the vacuum cleaner again trying to get rid of the mark it left in the carpet from sitting there for so long in one spot. "A picture of just the boys," kept rattling through my head. "I did it for Christmas," I told myself. Yes, but that's different! I took that picture. Of course there have been pictures with just the boys in them and no Rachel. I haven't stopped taking pictures! But there have been no "professional" pictures of the kids together since Rachel was four. Is it time? I don't know.

As I continued to vacuum other areas I rolled the thought over and over and over in my head. I'm not sure I can do it. Oh, I can do it, I'm just not sure I want to ... or if I'd put the pictures up. Not worth doing it then. I think just the fact that I even came up with it out-of-the-blue is a huge step, I don't think I actually have to follow through with it immediately. It can sit and simmer and stew ... for a long time, if need be.

I miss her.

Specific Prayers:
~That our family continue to positively live our lives as we drag the Black Hole forever with us.
~For the peace that only God can give to continue to be with us and with the families of all those who have lost children.

CANCER REALLY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, February 16, 2009 9:04 AM CST

What does one do with five file drawers full of your daughter's medical records, study findings, treatment plans, and research articles? Those five drawers represent the majority of her life and not only hours, but days, weeks, months, and years worth of research time. Do you keep those five file drawers because you may need it sometime? That starts that old conversation with yourself beginning with, "But what if I need it?"

What if I need it? It is the hopeless clutterbug in me that I've been trying to squash for years (I'm getting much better at it, I may add) that wants to hold onto everything. The conversation continues next with, "Need it for what?" Good come back, I hear the crowds roar! Then you try to reason with yourself about all of the light-weight reasons why one should keep five file drawers of papers on someone who will never need them again. I mean, what if Mark or Blake or Lance or myself ever get cancer? The volley in my head continues with, "And what are the chances of THAT happening? And if it did, what are the chances that it would be the same type?" The clutterbug within doesn't like that answer because the chances are pretty slim that if someone did get cancer that it would be the same type of rare sarcoma that Rachel had, but it throws out the answer, "Slim ... but still." But still??? See how far that answer will get you in a court of law! "It represents hours of researching studies, drugs, and treatment plans," the clutterbug, with hands on hips, bumps the volley back thinking that's a good enough answer. "The studies will be out-of-date and new drugs will have been developed." The clutterbug within me laughs and even snorts knowing that only one new drug has been developed for childhood cancer in the past 20 years. "Good luck in the new drug department," the clutterbug vehemently shouts. Recognizing truth when it hits, the volley back is toned down with, "Yes, you are quite correct. Yet, the studies that are contained within those five file drawers will still be old and hopefully new ones will have been done, hopefully new drugs will have been developed, hopefully new treatment plans will have been used. If not, even if everything stays 100% exactly the same, would you be able to find that information again?" The clutterbug stops short and ponders that. "It would take hours, days, weeks, months, and years." "Could you find it again?" "Yes." "The prosecution rests." With nose scrunched up and tongue sticking out in resentment, the clutterbug declutters the drawers to a manageable file. A file. One file.

Five years of her life. Five years of my life. Five years of our family's life all down to one file. Paper and more paper, file after file, got thrown away. As excruciating and painful as it was to "throw away your daughter", it's also very freeing. It was hard to go through each and every piece of paper reliving each one. Reliving the pain, reliving the fear, reliving the hope that was contained. Reliving the sorrow of knowing how it ended. The memories of Children's in Minneapolis, of New York, of Florida, of California crashed upon my head. The good times, the bad times and everything in between. Memories flooded through like they happened yesterday. It was hard. There were smiles, there were giggles, there was anger, and there were tears.

Before I squashed the clutterbug, I talked with Mark about it and told him my misgivings. I think he read the script from my mind because he came back at me with all the volley arguments. I told him to just keep telling me those things. After I was done and he was hauling it out to the garbage, I showed him what I had kept. All I said was, "That was really hard." "Do ya think?" he replied. We looked at each other both knowing what the other was feeling. Another hurdle conquered. Maybe it wasn't pretty, but we were over it. And now I have empty file drawers--that's the freeing part of it. That feels so good. It's no longer being held over my head like a weight. Now if I could only do that with the boxes and boxes of pictures and memorabilia!!!! AAAAHHHHH!!!!!! We won't even talk about her room ... yet. One small baby step at a time. Yes, one small step at a time.

Specific Prayers:
~For the emotional strength to continue to clear out the stuff even if it is Rachel's.
~To be able to prioritize what needs to be gone through now and what can sit and wait ... for possibly years.
~For our family to continue to look to Him as we continue to grieve for and live without our dearest Rachel.

Monday, January 26, 2009 9:40 AM CST

Sitting in what we call "The Music Room" (because the piano is in there), rocking in the chair I rocked my babies in and listening to the silence surrounding me, I started thinking about the rests in musical pieces. "Make sure you give that rest the full count," I can hear my piano teacher tell me. As an elementary aged piano student it was easier to hold a note through a rest as I wouldn't have to think about it. It wasn't until I was into my high school years singing in Concert Choir, playing in band, and continuing with piano that I realized rests were very important. They were there for a reason. They deserved their full count. As a college-aged piano student playing on a grand piano in the concert hall filled with only five people--judges who would determine my final grade--I realized that there is music in the silence of the rests.

Music in the silence. What an odd thing. And, then again, maybe not so odd. If we look at life as a symphony, then the people that we fill our lives with are the chords from which we compose our music. Each person plays a part to create the flow of our sonate. When we lose someone we love, a part of our orchestra is now missing. Their part is silent. That silence can be devastating.

Yet, the music of life will eventually flow again. Although the sound is different and so is the rhythm, and we will generally find ourselves stumbling over an unfamiliar note or measure, with practice comes skill. Skill at giving the rests their full count, skill at hearing the silence in the rests, skill at hearing the music in the silence.

The music doesn't come right away. And even when it does, it comes and goes. It can be very hard to find the music in the silence on many days. The loss of someone you love creates a deep silence in our lives, a pause in the rhythm. But, those who wish to sing will always find a song and will eventually always hear the music. Although the songs composed by grief are generally deeper and more haunting than the ones composed earlier in life, they are still beautiful and perhaps even more meaningful than before.

Yes, there is silence. But the music is still there waiting to be composed. All you have to do is want to hear it. All you have to do is desire to sing. That desire will help you create your new song and although the orchestra may start slowly with only an instrument or two, soon the music will flow from the entire hall and the contata will reverberate from the deepest, darkest areas of your soul. Soon you will hear the music in the silence.

Specific Prayers:
~Healing for Lance who was diagnosed with pnemonia.
~Healing for Blake who isn't feeling well.
~Healing for Jodi who is battling a cold.
~That all those who are grieving will be able to hear the music in the silence.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!

Thursday, January 15, 2009 9:06 PM CST

Taxes. Oh, that wonderful time of year again. I remember doing taxes last year and how much Rachel was in them and how much they hurt. I thought as I packed it all up at that time that would be the last time she would be in the taxes. I was wrong.

I opened up the booklet yesterday that our accountant sends to us and started filling it out. The question asked if I expected a change in the number of dependants for next year. Hmmmmmmmmmmm .... being that Rachel's name was still listed as a dependant, I put YES. And then I wrote her death date next to her name along with a great big star by it. And I thought she wouldn't be in the taxes after last year. Heck, we're still getting Explanation Of Benefit forms from our health insurance company showing that they paid out more money to somebody (I think there is a business or two in the medical field that need better book-keeping skills). Mark and I just shake our heads and can't believe that after this long of a time that they should even be able to bill anyone. It is still heartstopping to get medical mail addressed to Rachel.

You know, that question about a change in dependants, I found it strange this year. I know in the past that I've been excited to say "YES" because we were expecting a baby. Aren't the other reasons sad or at least bitter sweet? A child that is now out on their own--you've done your job and they are no longer your financial responsibility. It's the next step after the empty nest. Bitter sweet. After that, all the reasons that I can come up with are sad. And it's asking you to fortell the future. What if you don't end up with said baby? Who is ever going to predict that a dependant is going to die? Oh yeah, by the way, I'm expecting my kid to die within the next year. Not sure if it's going to be a natural death or if I'm just going to kill 'em because they lipped off and I told them that I brought them into this world and I'll take them out of this world and make one that looks just like 'em! All parents and Bill Cosby fans will understand that one. :-) She's still in the taxes. Wonder how long that will go on for?

Life continues to move forward one day at a time. Sunrise after sunrise, sunset after sunset. Mid-January will turn to mid-February which will turn to mid-June and mid-November. 2009 will be 2010 which will be 2015 and then 2020. It just keeps moving forward, faster and faster and faster. It was going to take forever to get into my 30's! Hmmmmmmm ..... been there, done that, and I literally have the t-shirt. Fifty will be here before I know it. My grandmother turned 93 this week. The last time I looked she was 58. That age is now closer for me than 20. How'd we get here? Sunrise after sunrise, sunset after sunset. What are we doing with our time between those sunrises and sunsets? That's what really counts.

Doesn't matter how many sunrises and sunsets we get to see in our lifetime, it's what we did with the time in-between that matters. What impression are we leaving? What will your epitaph be? Ever thought about it? If your loved ones could inscribe one short sentence on your tombstone, what would they say about you? What would you want it to say? Would it be right? It will be in stone forever. Generations down the road it will be the only sentence that remains of who you were. What do you want it to say about you?

I was in a meeting many years ago and the question of our epitaphs was posed to us. We were to write our own and then share with those in the group. We found that what some people wrote was not what the group thought of them. Not necessarily in a bad way, it was just different.

What do you want your epitaph to say? Does your life reflect that? If not, one of them has to change.

"Sunrise, sunset, sunrise, sunset, swiftly fly the years; one season following another, laden with happiness and tears." (From Fiddler On The Roof's "Sunrise, Sunset"--Lyrics by Sheldon Harnick)

Specific Prayers:
~That the homeless find warmth and shelter during this artic blast the upper mid-west is having.
~For safety during travel, participating in winter sports, or just being outdoors during this frigid weather.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, December 29, 2008 10:02 PM CST

We once again spent Christmas as a four-some and enjoyed a quiet, tight-knit time together. We took a road trip to Wisconsin Dells and stayed in a resort that has a gigantic indoor waterpark, an indoor amusement park, and a movie theater all under one roof. We arrived and never left except on Day 1 to get some groceries. Our room had a fireplace, two large flat screens, and a full kitchen so it became "Home" for a week.

Lance was concerned about Santa, so our stockings and Rachel's pink Christmas tree were packed along. Yes, the pink tree made it to Wisconsin Dells. We had a three-foot tall, completely gawdy pink tree adorned with white lights, Disney princess ornaments, Disney princess pink tree skirt trimmed with white fur, pink irradescent hearts (thanks to Cheryl who will forever be Jordan's Mommy--they looked awesome on the tree; THANKS!!!), home-made ornaments that Rachel made while we were in New York, a few other ornaments, and the Cinderella castle tree topper. It was the most outrageously beautiful tree you've ever seen! :-) It was completely dwarfed in our room, but it worked. Lance was especially thrilled being that he thought I had given that tree away.

Lance told me a few weeks ago that he wanted a tree in our hotel room. I told him that maybe we could take along Rachel's pink tree. He looked at me totally baffled and said, "I thought you gave that tree away." My heart sunk just thinking about the thought of giving that tree away. My mind screamed, "NO!!!!!!!!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING????!!!?!! I COULD NEVER GIVE THAT TREE AWAY!!!! IT'S RACHEL'S!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" My mouth said, "No, Honey, Mommy didn't give that tree away. We still have it." "Where is it???" "It's in the basement with all the other Christmas stuff." "REALLY?" "Really." "Does the box still have all the holes in it that Rachel and I made?" Uh, no, I think the box fixed itself. What kind of a dumb question is that???? I giggled. "Yes, it still has all the holes in it that you two naughty kids made." He laughed and proceeded to relive the memory. And I supposedly got rid of that memory?? Not on your life!!! "So, we can bring Rachel's tree to Wisconsin?" "Yes, we can bring it." He was one happy boy. When we set it up he was smiles from ear-to-ear. Oh, yes, Rachel went to Wisconsin with us ... in more ways than just a pink tree.

"Rachel would've loved that." "Rachel would've wanted that." "Remember when Rachel ...." Oh, yes, she was there. She will always be anywhere we go. That's just the way it is. The maid saw our pink tree and asked where our little girl was. You know, no family of boys that was in their right mind would have a pink tree! Tee hee!!

More wonderful memories made, more pictures taken, more laughter spewed from smiling faces, and a few more tears shed. It's how life is now. It's the new normal.

We're back to reality. We're back home. We're back to all that is. Although it's really nice to be back in our own beds, it's also very nice to have the biggest problem of the day be which waterslide should we make Mom go down first? Actually, my favorite problem was: Which hot tub? Number 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5? Uh, yeah! It's a BIG waterpark! :-)

We are now headed into another year. Another year farther away from her, yet another year closer to seeing her again. It's a weird spot to be in. The feelings are so strong about life and death, yet to try and explain them to you would be so confusing. Wanting to die and yet it having nothing to do with depression or suicide is something many people just don't understand ... unless you're walking this road, too. Loving life, yet being completely ready to die. It's a really unusual, sober, comforting feeling. I may live into my 90's and I will live each day fully loving all that the Lord gives me each and every day. But I'm also ready to go meet Him at any time and to see Rachel again. I don't know what my number is, or that of any member of my family, but we will all be ready when it's our turn. We are not afraid of death. I think there's more to fear in life than there is in death. But until that time, we will live our new normal the best way that we know how. We will live it together, as a family, one day at a time. One New Year at a time. One pink Christmas tree at a time.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for our wonderful family time in Wisconsin.
~Thankfulness for the gift of Christ.
~Thankfulness for Heaven.
~For safety for all those still traveling.
~For 2009 to be a year of continued healing for our family and a year that the Holy Spirit moves in miraculous ways over this earth turning the lost and empty souls to Christ.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!

Monday, December 22, 2008 8:05 AM CST

It's Monday morning ... the day after the Sunday School Christmas program. I have to say that it was a huge success!!! The kids did AWESOME!!! I wasn't so sure WHAT was going to happen after our rehearsal on Saturday, but then we rehearsed for about a half-hour on Sunday morning I felt much better. On Sunday afternoon those kids showed us their stuff! I think I'm STILL beaming! I know I went to sleep with a huge smile on my face. :-) And I slept like a log! Now to catch up with all of the household duties ...

Christmas. Yes, this is our second Christmas without Rachel but that doesn't mean it makes it any easier, it's just that we're more used to being without her by now. The "new normal" is truly the new normal. Unchosen new normal's stink, by the way. Christmas plans are all made and there are glimmers of Rachel throughout it. It's just natural. It just happens that way. We wouldn't want it any other way.

As I sit here typing in our frozen "winter wonderland" (don't even ask what the windchill is this morning--we're having an EXTREMELY cold December; lucky us) there are many birds at our feeders and they're singing away. It is SO cold outside, yet here they are rejoicing loudly for all to hear. It reminds me that even in our troubles, we need to be rejoicing loudly for all to hear about our good things--all of our blessings. We need to be giving thanks and praise to our Creator and not grumbling and complaining because something isn't the way we expected it to be.

I always found it quite interesting when people would say that Christmas is the best time of the year, the happiest time of the year, the most giving time, the most nurturing time, the most whatever time of year, yet everyone is stressed to the gills, fighting over electronics and talking Elmos, trampling people to death to be the first into a store to get the best deal, and yelling at each other while cooking Christmas dinner. Extended family members put the pressure on to spend time with them and some families hop from one family to another family to another all in the name of "Christmas" and collapse at home wondering why they did it because it wasn't exactly fun. If there are divorces or step-families involved, it even gets more chaotic. I've began to wonder why do we have to cram all of this into ONE day? There are 364 other days of the year to spend time with one another--QUALITY time, yet the pressure is on to do it THAT day. I don't think I'll ever understand the reasoning behind that. Then there are the people who just want to spend time with friends and leave the family drama out of Christmas. Oh, yes ... the best time of the year. Boy, if that's the best, I don't want to see the rest. And it's all done in the name of the Lord. Uh, yeah ... right.

Something tells me that the Lord isn't smiling. Christmas isn't one of His appointed festivals (it's a man-made tradition) therefore all of the unhappiness that stems from Christmas--financial issues, drinking and food indulgences, fighting, having to have the perfect gift, the perfect tree, the Norman Rockwell picture of perfect Christmas, I doubt he's pleased with. Then there's the sin part of Christmas--coveting things, worshiping "stuff", lieing (yeah, Santa's fun, but it's all a big lie--and just because something is fun doesn't make it right), making idols out of trees, decorations, presents, etc. I could go down the commandments one-by-one and probably find something for each one. I just don't think God is pleased. Especially when all of these things are done in His name. I have yet to read where God condones sin. And, let's face it, Christmas can be full of it.

I'm just as guilty as the next person when it comes to Christmas. But I sure have been thinking about it recently. Especially after spending last year in Mexico and seeing how wonderful a Christmas could be without all of the above. This year's Christmas will be different, too. We've learned a few things from our experience.

I hope during this time of year that we're not only able to ponder our Lord's birth (which isn't December 25, for those of you who didn't know that) but that we are able to focus on what His death did for us. It is His death that brings us that everlasting Hope.

May God's peace that passeth all understanding be given to all.

Specific Prayers:
~Thanksgiving for Christ's birth and death.
~For safe travel for all.
~For protection from illness.
~For a joyous week spent with people we love and enjoy.

CANCER REALLY, REALLY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, December 15, 2008 3:55 PM CST

How about if I just go to sleep and wake up to New Years? I know she's not here, I know she won't ever be here again, yet that doesn't stop the mind from telling you the things that she "would" be doing if she were. And this time of year is FULL of that. Ugh.

I'm directing our church's Sunday School Christmas Program this year. Yes, I guess I AM a glutton for punishment. I've been crazy busy with it and this week will be the most chaotic of all, I think, with Sunday being the culmination of it so that I can drop in a heap on Monday. To top it off, she "would" be in it.

Last night was the choral festival at church. Blake plays in the Youth Handbell Choir (made up of about 80% teenage boys) so we went to see him. Of course, the children's choir Rachel was in also sang. I sat there looking at those kids singing Silent Night as a round with the adult choir and tears sprang from nowhere (man, I hate that). It dawned on me that she "would" be in it.

This time of year is full of events that she "would" be a part of, activities that she "would" be doing, toys that she "would" want and love. Saturday morning as Mark and I lay in bed, I heard a kid getting up and wondered if I would soon hear a pitter-patter of feet of a little girl coming along side her daddy to "wake" him up. I could see it happening so clearly, see her standing there so clearly, hear her giggle so clearly ... yet it was not to happen. I wondered if she was standing there in spirit.

Wish we knew more about the other dimension. Our culture is full of things that we want to believe about Heaven instead of what it truly is. We make God into who we want Him to be rather than who He truly is. "You are in error because you do not know the Scriptures or the power of God." Matthew 22:29 Our culture thinks that if we're a good person we'll go to Heaven. My Bible doesn't say that. It tells me that there is so much more to going to Heaven than being a good person or working in the soup kitchen. The Bible I read says that even many of those who call Him Lord won't see Heaven. "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven." Yet, every funeral I've ever gone to mentions that the person is now in Heaven. Are we just being told what we want to hear?

I know that there is a judgment day and that we will all have to stand before Him. That terrifies me. "But I tell you that men will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned." Matthew 12: 36-37 Acquitted. Condemned. No promises of everyone being saved. No promises of all going to Heaven. You don't hear that at any funeral.

How many actually even hear it in church? How far removed have our churches become? The Lord says, "These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men." Matthew 15:8-9

I wish we knew the answers. I wish we fully understood. I wish I knew what Heaven is TRULY like. I wish I could fully comprehend where Rachel is and what she's doing. I wish our culture didn't turn everything into what we want to hear versus what we need to hear. I wish God was truly honored, praised, and worshiped as He wants to be. I wish we truly understood that we should fear Him. Paul tells us in his letter to the Philippian church, "...work out your salvation with fear and trembling." Phillippians 3:6 It's nothing to take lightly as we will all end up before Him someday .... some of us sooner than others. Am I ready? Are you?

Specific Prayers:
~That the TRUTH of the Gospels be revealed to us.
~That we be God-fearing people filled with thanksgiving and praise.
~For safety for all those who are traveling.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, November 29, 2008 8:47 AM CST

Another Thanksgiving come and gone. Another Macy's Day Parade watched with memories of a certain parade six years ago forever ingrained in my head. I'm excited to watch the parade yet I dread watching the parade because of the emotions it evokes. I love seeing the balloons we were able to see in person, yet I dread seeing those same balloons. I love seeing the sights and the buildings of New York--the ones I grew to love, yet I dread seeing those sights. The memories flood over me like warm, melted butter and they feel good. They make me smile. Then comes the sadness knowing that the two people that I shared that special time with are both no longer living here on earth. I miss them both. I miss both my mother and my daughter.

Although I certainly didn't like the reason that I was in New York six years ago (cancer sucks, have I told you that lately?), it was a place that I had always wanted to go. Being that we lived there for three months while Rachel had treatment gave me a much better taste of what New York is all about versus just being there as a tourist. I found New York City to be friendly, walkable, yet lacking in the color green. There just is no grass (no, Central Park doesn't cut it). You can walk for miles and see not one patch of grass. I found that I missed that. No yards to play in so you have to go to the local park--which still has no grass. Though I was thrilled that the park across from the hospital had a swingset and a couple of other play structures, it was a far cry from what we are used to here in Minnesota with large highways of jungle gyms on huge expanses of grass. Green is a color that is definitely lacking. Yet, the Macy's Day Parade starts on the West side of Central Park and from the vantage point that the Ronald McDonald house got it's tenants (as in us and a host of other families with sick kids) of the 8th floor inside a building located in Columbus Circle, we were able to see Central Park. We watched as the parade came down the road right towards us with the balloons in a line as far as we could see. They would march right towards us and then make the turn at Columbus Circle right in front of us. Our vantage point couldn't have been better. Even the bands would stop and perform right below us. We were right at the height so Clifford could stick his nose in at us, and Big Bird's beak, and Ronald McDonald's face, and Blue's Clue's could reach out and lick the kids. It was perfect. Yes, wonderful memories.

As I watch each balloon on the television set, there are many that bring back memories of two-year-old little Rachel, bald as a cue-ball, in a pink outfit (of course) jumping her little butt up and down in my lap and clapping at, or the words that she would gasp out of her mouth such as "Clifford!" "Blue's Clue's" or my favorite, "Pokemon! Blake likes that!"

After the parade, we went back to the Ronald McDonald House and had a Thanksgiving meal. I remember the three of us sitting at a table eating the meal. It was good. Was it like being at home? No. Not even close. But it was good. I remember Mom and I looking at each other and deciding it really wasn't a bad Thanksgiving after all. It really wasn't. It wasn't about the food. It was about being together. I cherish those memories so much ... just Rachel, Mom, and I. I am very blessed to have them.

I think back on all of the Thanksgivings that I've had, and the one's that stand out are the ones that were different and shared in a very intimate way. I remember the year that my dad and I went out to dinner for Thanksgiving. I don't even know where we went ... I was six almost seven. It was just my daddy and me and it was special. I don't know if my dad remembers it that way, but I do! We showed off the picture of my new baby sister to the waitress (okay, Dad showed off the picture of his new baby daughter) explaining that Mom and baby were still in the hospital hence the Father-Daughter Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant. Hospital stays for having a baby were five days back then and no, there was no early release because of a holiday--trust me, Mom tried! She got to come home the NEXT day.

I remember the year that Mark and I were deer hunting and all of our family were going somewhere else for Thanksgiving. We had Subway sandwiches and pumpkin pie for our Thanksgiving dinner. We ate it just the two of us and Mark's older brother joined us for pie. Then we headed back out to the woods to hunt. It's one of my favorite memories of Thanksgiving. It was a wonderful time spent just the two of us being thankful for each other.

Last year Thanksgiving was spent with just the four of us. It was a very tough Thanksgiving. One spunky little person was missing at the table and it was very evident. Yet, we pushed through it knowing that we still had so much to be thankful for.

Then there's New York spent with just Mom, Rachel, and myself. I find it interesting that the Thanksgivings I seem to cherish, are the intimate ones. It's not about the food. It's not about the time on the clock that you eat. It's not about where you eat it. It's completely about who you are with. Funny that the smaller, more intimate ones are the Thanksgivings that I remember. They don't blend in with all the rest. I can remember them clearly as if they happened last week yet all the others are a blur. I will always cherish these Thanksgivings for as long as I live.

Thanksgiving isn't about the turkey baking in the oven. Even if it is traditional and does taste good, Subway sandwiches fit the bill just fine, as does turkey made in a restaurant or in an institutional kitchen. It isn't about the place. I don't remember the restaurant, but I do remember the wonderful feelings from inside that restaurant--the feelings of being with my daddy, my father-in-law's kitchen void of anyone except Mark and myself, being in our own home with no one else, or in a city far away. It isn't about having the most people possible fit into your home, having the fanciest set-up, or having the decorations "just so".

No, it's about the intimacy of relationships with those you cherish the most. The people that you thank God for on a daily basis. The people in your life that you feel so blessed to have, and feel so empty without. Cherish those moments with these people. Create memories that give you warmth and happiness. Have intimate times with those you love the most. Our world is full of untimely deaths--from freak accidents and auto accidents, from drug overdose and alcohol overdose, from short-lived diseases and long-drawn-out diseases, from murders and suicides--we can never count on tomorrow. It is not promised. It just isn't. Make memories. Make them today. You may not get the chance tomorrow.

For me, memories are all I have of many people that I love. I cherish each and every one of those memories. They can never be taken away from me. No one can steal them. Those memories are what make me smile even when I am sad. Those memories are what make me laugh even while I'm crying. Those memories are what give me warmth even when I am cold. I don't ever want to live with the would have, should have, could have's of the world. It's hard enough to live without the ones you love, let alone add that to the mixture.

So another Thanksgiving Macy's Day Parade has come and gone. Another year of giving thanks, as a group, for our blessings. I hope you give thanks everyday for what our Lord, our Creator, our Blessed Hope has given to you each and everyday and not just on Thanksgiving ... or Sundays. We should be a thankful people. Even while living what can seem the worst life possible and everyone's worst nightmare come true, I know that I am blessed and I am thankful.

Specific Prayers:
~Thanksgiving for all of our numerous blessings.
~Thanksgiving for life on earth.
~Thanksgiving for Jesus, who brings eternal life for those who believe and repent.

CANCER REALLY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, November 21, 2008 3:40 PM CST

Standing in the toy section looking at dress-up clothes. Standing in the party aisle looking at little girls costumes. Standing in the girl's clothing section looking for gloves. "Oh, wouldn't Rachel LOVE this?!" as I finger a pink sweatshirt. "Oh, wouldn't Rachel LOVE this?!" as I see a pink sequined outfit. "Oh, wouldn't Rachel absolutely plead with me for this?!" as I run across another outfit that screams her name. "WHAT AM I DOING HERE???" I scold myself. Oh, yeah ... looking for white gloves for our Sunday School Christmas program which I am directing this year. White gloves ... so simple, so stupid, and yet so very hard. Who would've thought? From one store to another I drug myself into their girl's departments looking for the aloof white gloves. I was finally successful and headed for home completely wrung out emotionally even though I hadn't shed a tear.

One day Lance and I had gone into Target. We ended up passing by the girl's clothing on our way to the check-out. Hanging practically in the aisle was the most adorable pink sweatsuit outfit--ruffles and all. Lance reached out and touched it and then looked at me. "Yeah," I answered his longing look, "she would've loved it." "Yeah, she would've," he answered quietly.

It's never going to end. Never. It just never will and I can't believe that people think it will or should. I'm in a bit of a quandry right now because of the upcoming Christmas card season. I didn't send any last year. This year I can't even think about sending a picture of my children without Rachel in it. She is still one of our children. She always will be. To send a picture of just the boys ... well ... it's just "wrong". We don't have just boys. Do you put a picture of her in with the boys? Will others find that strange? Do I care if they find that strange? To write a letter without mention of Rachel would convey that we are "over" her. To mention her would mean "we need help". We can't win no matter what we do. People who haven't lost a child don't understand what society does to those of us who have. Even what used to be just a simple Christmas card is no longer simple.

Not only is there the actual loss of the child, but there's also the expectation that over time we shouldn't talk about, be affected by, or include this child anymore. It's quite amazing. And, sadly, I think I used to believe that, too. Funny how we can be such experts in areas we've never personally known--kinda like the friend with no kids giving advice on how to raise yours .... uh, yeah. As I've stated before, I've learned that grief is something you learn to live with, not something you ever get over. And so the dilemma continues .... do we worry about people thinking that we're strange and need help or do we do what feels right to us? I think either way we lose.

Specific Prayers:
~Discernment for Christmas and all it brings.
~Continued healing of and peace in our hearts.
~Healing for Jodi's leg (I'm currently on crutches with a severe case of tendonitis).

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!

Wednesday, November 5, 2008 9:40 AM CST

Lance is home sick with a 102 degree temperature. It makes me think about how different our lives are now compared to when Rachel would have a 102 degree temperature. As I told one of my girlfriends, "Lance's worst deal from a Mommy's stand point is that he misses school and I had to rearrange my very full schedule that I had for today. It's okay. Kinda nice to actually be home! But that's all it means. No eyebrows pulling up in wonderment of what it could be. No phone calls made to clinics. No trips to ER. No last minute things put into already packed suitcases. No overnights in hospitals. Very different life now. So very different. Not that I liked the old one, but I sure miss the reason I had it." Oh, do I miss that one blonde haired, blue eyed, spunky little reason.

As Lance handed me the thermometer last night and I looked at the number, I knew that that number meant I needed to MOVE and I needed to move NOW. I knew that number meant drop absolutely everything, grab the phone, dial the memorized number and talk to the doctor all while quickly throwing the last minute items such as blue blanket, the favorite stuffed animal of the week, the latest DVD, and some water into the car (the suitcase is already in there) along with going to the bathroom, putting shoes and coat on a lethargic child and myself, hanging up the phone, kissing everyone goodnight, goodbye, and probably goodweek and heading out into the blackness of the night to travel the highway that the vehicle has on autopilot to a four-hour stay in the Emergency Room which would lead to an admittance into the hospital. Whew! I KNEW that's what it meant. I KNEW I needed to move. Yet I didn't. I stood glued to the spot looking at the number on the thermometer. It's amazing how fast those thoughts can zoom through your head. "Am I sick?" comes the question. "Yes, no school for you tomorrow."

That's it. "No school for you tomorrow." That's really it. How simple. How strange. A temperature of 102 degrees is not simple. At least it used to not be simple. I stood there. I stood there almost confused and most certainly in a daze as all of this came crashing down on me. How simple. Just simple. Just no school.

I made some phone calls letting people know that I wouldn't be where I was expected to be because I needed to be home with Lance. Home. You don't stay home with a temperature of 102 degrees. You go to the hospital. Life is most certainly different. Another new normal. The pendulum of life just continues to swing--off in one direction and back again. It will never be what it was. It will never be what it was before that. It just will never be. It is what it is today. Not that I like it necessarily, but it is. Not that I liked it before, but it was. We endure it, we walk it, we live it. And through all of it, we praise God.

The thermometer says 102 degrees. Who would ever had thought that a thermometer could invoke so many memories and so many feelings? Who would ever have thought that a number could do so much? It says 102 degrees. Therefore I'm home ... with a sick child. Yes, I'm home with a sick child. Simple. Just so simple.

Specific Prayers:
~That Lance's fever and cough subside and not become anything more.
~For protection of our families health now and through this winter season.

CANCER SUCKS!!!! It really, really sucks!!!!

Tuesday, October 28, 2008 12:14 AM CDT

I was sitting in church on Sunday between my two boys. The pastor called all the third graders and their parents up to the front to receive their Bibles. The children lined up against the Communion rail with their parents standing behind them. The Bible's began to be distributed when I started thinking about Lance getting his last year. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, it hit me like a Mac truck. We were "supposed" to be up there right then. Rachel would have been getting her Bible. The tears came instantly and without warning. I blinked and blinked and blinked but no amount of blinking was going to keep the overbrimming eyes from sending their supply of water into cascades down my cheeks. I wiped the tears away. I wiped again. And again.

Lance looked at me. "Are you crying?" he asked half exasperated, half caring. I nodded my head and said, "Rachel should be up there." Very solemnly he said, "Yeah, I know." Then he wrapped an arm around me.

Something tells me that this is just never going to end. There are things that will continue to bite no matter where you are or what you're doing. They will attack with surprise and without care for where you are or who you are with. It won't care if you have a kleenex handy or not.

The tears continued to stream down my face no matter how hard I tried to stop them. All I could think about was that I needed to address all of the Sunday School children and their parents in less than an hour. I didn't want to look like a basket case. Nothing like red eyes and running mascara announcing your prior activity.

It ended as abruptly as it started and you wonder who is turning the nozzle on and off. Thankfully I was able to compose myself and go forward with my work after the service--I obviously had help (I was in church, you know)!

It hurts so darn bad. Yet we know in life that there are no guarantees. We can't even guarantee that the two children we still have with us will make it to high school graduation. That's a sobering thought. One instant is all it takes. One instant and life changes forever. I know that there will be more one instant changes in my life, as death is a very real part of life. I just hope that I don't have to deal with any of them for a very long time. They aren't fun. And some of them affect you in a very, very, very profound way. The only comfort I get from any of it is knowing that I will always have peace in my heart, the peace that only comes from having a personal walk with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. It is because of Him that I am upright, moving, doing, surviving, coping, functioning, and mostly .... living.

The world will continue to throw curveballs, the world may continue to give us things that aren't exactly what's best for "us" in the moment, but it all works for the Big Plan. I don't understand it, I don't comprehend it, I actually haven't even been told it. But in the end, I'll probably say, "Oh yes, God, I get it and yes, it was worth it." It sure doesn't feel that way now.

Specific Prayers:
~For continued peace for our entire family.
~For 70-degree weather in Minnesota the entire winter (hey, one can try)!

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, October 13, 2008 3:33 PM CDT

Need to clean the dungeon. The boxes and boxes of "stuff" we tend to call memorabilia have taken over. One just can't keep everything. The pictures are overflowing from boxes, the Kindergarten artwork lays haphazard in a box, the airline tickets and brochures lay in bags ... all waiting to be scrapbooked. Yeah, right. It just can't all be saved. So, 15 minutes at a time, one box at a time, or hopefully more if I can stand it, I'm plugging away at the dungeon.

What's that? One of my mother's Longaberger baskets? What's it doing there? I pull it out from beneath the table and peer into it. I lump forms in my throat. Poems and other items given to us at Rachel's funeral. I put those in their proper place. I then pulled out an envelope. It was filled with pictures that had nothing to do with her funeral. Interesting. I put those in their proper place. I pulled out some more things and put them away. Then, laying on the bottom ... her purse.

Another cancer patient (a teenager) had come to visit Rachel when she was in the hospital that last spring of her life and had given her a couple of purses. Rachel loved them and filled them with all sorts of goodies. I picked up the purse, which had some weight to it. What in the world did she have in there? There was a small flashlight attached ... she always had stuff clipped to her purses and backpacks. I giggled. The flashlight was pink. Of course! I opened up the front pocket. Bracelets! PINK bracelets! I opened up another pocket. Dimes, quarters, nickles and pennies. Cute. Weighty. Then I opened up the last pocket. My breath stopped. I pulled out a post-it note packet. She had filled many notes with her handwriting and pictures. The notes weren't to me but to her cousin, Josie, her best friend. The notes were filled with I Love You's, hearts, pictures Rachel had drawn of the two of them, and telling Josie just how much she cared about her. Then there were also the doodlings of the main characters from Madagascar (a movie). I will keep the drawings, but I will give Josie those special notes. I started breathing again and became conscious of the rivers of tears streaming down my cheeks.

That was enough treasure finding for one day.

Specific Prayers:
~That the surprises of Rachel never stop.

CANCER SUCKS!!!

Thursday, October 2, 2008 9:55 AM CDT

Lance's 10th birthday was on Tuesday. On one hand, it's hard to believe that he's 10 and on the other hand it seems he should be older. After four miscarriages at anywhere from six to fourteen weeks gestation, going into labor with him at 21 weeks, and four months of bedrest lying completely on my back, he is truly one of those blessings from God. All of the above are also the reasons why I was not exactly jumping up and down with joy when I found out that I was SURPRISE! pregnant with Rachel before he was a year old. I wasn't ready to do all of that again. When Rachel was diagnosed over six years ago, Lance wasn't quite four. Looking back at six years ago it seems a lifetime away--how can he only be ten? Looking back six years ago he wasn't even four--how can he be ten? Where is my baby that I prayed for so diligently? My baby is a little man.

I had lunch with our little man at school and then went off shopping for him. He wanted a birthday pie (nothing but pumpkin!) so I went to Perkins to get one. As I was standing at the counter waiting for the individual pieces of pie to be packaged, I looked at the plastic money container sitting by the cash register. Rachel. The container is there for people to put money into for Give Kids The World. Rachel. Give Kids The World is the resort that all of the wish foundations from around the world--including Make A Wish--send their wish kids to when they go to Disney World. Rachel. Perkins donates (yes, I just wrote "donates") all of the food for Give Kids The World. Rachel. It's an absolutely wonderful thing that they do. Rachel. We, as a family, were very blessed by Perkins' generousity at Give Kids The World when we went on Rachel's Make A Wish trip to Disney World. Rachel. I can't even buy a piece of pie without her being there. Rachel. I can't even make a simple birthday purchase without thoughts of her. Rachel.

Laying next to the plastic container were a bunch of gingerbread men. Rachel. One could put money in the container and then put your name on the gingerbread man and they would hang it up showing your support. Rachel. I looked at the amounts they had that one could check the box for on the gingerbread man and decided that that was nice but I was doing more. Rachel. I quietly folded up my money and held it in my hand. Rachel. The gingerbread man wanted me to put my name on him. Rachel. I wrote "In Memory of Rachel Hansen" instead. Rachel. My pie arrived. Rachel. "Can I just stick my money in the container or do I need to give it to you?" I asked. Rachel. The gentleman looked at me and said, "The container is great! Thank you so much!" Rachel. I pushed my folded money into the slot and handed him my gingerbread man along with the payment for the pie. Rachel. "It's for a great cause," the man said. Rachel. I smiled and said, "Oh, yes it is, I can attest to that first-hand." Rachel. I took my pie and walked to my car. Rachel. I climbed in behind the wheel, started it up, and drove out of the parking lot. Rachel.

The tears bombarded me from nowhere. Rachel. I just bawled. Rachel. She's EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!! Rachel. Still. Rachel. She will be in every single Perkins restaurant as long as they continue to donate the food to Give Kids The World. Rachel. I know that there are many wonderful organizations and charities out there that need our money. Rachel. I know that there are some bad ones, too. Rachel. I know that we all have to pick and choose where we give our donations. Rachel. We wonder if our money is making a difference, we wonder exactly what it's being used for, we wonder if it's lining someone's pockets. Rachel. I know that only God can give a cure for cancer. Rachel. I know that if we do finally find a cure that another disease will rear it's ugly head. Rachel. I know that there are many other diseases that affect children and their families besides cancer. Rachel. But one thing no disease can take away is family unity. Rachel. Family love. Rachel. Family fun. Rachel. Nor can it take family memories. Rachel. The best thing that we did was take a Make A Wish trip with our family. Rachel. I know many other families whose children have died who say the same thing. Rachel. It's one thing that can never be stolen from us. Rachel. Those memories can never die. Rachel.

She's everywhere everyday. She always will be. I don't want it any other way. Oh, Rachel. Those memories bring back so many smiles and good times. Those memories are talked about often in our home. Those memories are special. Whenever you have the opportunity, drop some money into those plastic containers at Perkins Restaurants or send a donation to them or Make A Wish. No, it's not curing a disease, but that's in God's time, not ours. In our time we can help a child make memories for their family who may not have a lot of time left with them. They may not know that at that particular time, but then again they might. It's a trip of a lifetime and I thank Perkins for being a part of that.

She's even in the pumpkin pie.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for the generousity of others that bring such joy and pleasure to those who need it.
~That the Lord bless all who are generous.
~That we all find it in our hearts to be generous to those less fortunate (whether in health, wealth, friends, family, etc).
~Thankfulness for Lance who truly is a gift from God (all children are, but some of us have to work harder to get our blessings).
~For a cure for cancer.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!

Monday, September 22, 2008 8:42 AM CDT

And life just keeps moving forward ...

With the turn of the months into September, it seems we have launched ourselves right into chaos. How can it be the 22nd of September of the year 2008? How can it be that it's been several weeks since the last update? How can it be we have a child in high school? How can it be that we celebrated our 19th wedding anniversary? OLD PEOPLE DO THAT!!! How can it be that we're this age?? How can it be that another high school reunion happened?? How can it be that Rachel's been gone 15 months? Shaking my head I ask, "How? How? How?" And then it's back to the calendar to make sure we don't miss anything.

Calendaring, lists, and address/phone books. Where would we be without them? I'll tell ya ... up a creek! Or, in my case, a RIVER!!! Yes, Jodi is officially without her phone book! It has something to do with a literal river, a canoe, and a phone getting accidentally launched. Guess the call was for the fish. Glad my brother-in-law thought it was so funny! He kept calling the fish and "talking" to them. Oh, yeah ... all the jokes were JUST for me the rest of the day! My phone is officially at the bottom of a river with all of my phone numbers and wonderful data that was on it. Did I have it all backed up?? No ... why would you need to do that? So ... if you think I should have your phone number, email me. Please send me your information!!! Some of you may never get another phone call from me (hmmmmmm ... maybe you LIKE it that way!!).

Blake started high school this month and is LOVING it (whew!). One just never knows. He's having a great time, loves four out of his six classes, and the countdown continues to when he can get his driver's permit. Oh, yippee ... uh, yeah, whatever. He also joined the Bowling Team this fall and is having a blast with that. Lance started 4th grade and took all of Rachel's old school supplies to school with him this year. There were some things that had her name on and he wouldn't even let me write his name over hers. He told me that everyone would know it was his. What a sweetie! He, once again, has her picture stuck to the inside of his desk. He loves his teacher and she's able to be compassionate with him and understand his feelings as her dad died when she was 12. Although no one's grief is ever the same, let's face it ... she gets it. She's been there. She's lost someone at a young age that she lived with and loved. I think it's a good match.

As a family we've been busy with activities such as fairs, festivals, fishing, and canoeing (don't forget THAT one). Mark and Lance just got back from a fishing trip on Lake Superior. Guess we're going to have a mounted fish on the wall now. Oh, the excitement level is just nauseating ... (if you hear sarcasm, you're supposed to). Yes, life just keeps moving forward.

Yet, not a day goes by that she's not thought about. Did you know that she's "supposed" to be in 3rd grade? Did you know that she was "supposed" to get on the bus with Lance? Did you know that she is "supposed" to be in the lunch hour that comes through the hallway when I've been there for some volunteer duties? Did you know that she is "supposed" to be in the biggest Sunday School class that we've had in years (our 3rd grade class is enormous).

I could go on and on and on with the "supposed to be's". But, we all know, they aren't, they never will be, and they aren't supposed to be, either. That's hard to wrap our human minds and hearts around. There's a plan and it's laying out just as it's supposed to be whether we like the smaller details of it or not. Even though the individual events of this plan hurt and I don't understand them, I do know that overall our God is merciful, and good, and gracious. I know that all the covenants our Lord has made will come to fruition. I know that all things will work for the ultimate plan in the end. Even this election. God will put into place whom will best serve his plan. Not necessarily will it be what's best for the United States or for us as individuals, but for his plan. In the book of Daniel it talks about how God sets up and deposes kings at his will. What he did wasn't always what was best for the Jewish people at that point in time, but it always serves a purpose on the bigger scale.

So, rather than getting all wrapped up in the smaller situation that I can't change, allowing it to strangle and paralyze me, I'm choosing to keep my eyes on the big picture, to deal with the hurt and sorrow through prayer and let God lead. Not that it's always easy, as she's always there and I don't see that changing anytime in the near future, but we were never promised an easy road. I have yet to find that promise anywhere. I just keep running across the passages about sorrow, sadness, and persecution. Yet there's One who can lead us through it. I'm keeping my eyes on Him.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for positive school beginnings.
~Thankfulness for fun, laughter, and family times even when we know that Rachel "should be there", too.
~For understanding of the Scriptures.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!

Tuesday, August 26, 2008 5:55 PM CDT

"In God's plan every life is long enough and every death is timely. And though you and I might wish for a longer life, God knows better. And - this is very important - though you and I may wish a longer life for our loved ones, they don't. Ironically, the first to accept God's decision of death is the one who dies. While we are shaking heads in disbelief, they are lifting hands to worship. While we are mourning at a grave, they are marveling at heaven. While we are questioning God, they are praising God."

From Max Lucado....Traveling Light.

Specific Prayers:
~The peace of Christ for all who mourn.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!

Sunday, August 17, 2008 12:54 AM CDT

Yesterday was a day of pondering life. Mark and I got up early and took a motorcycle ride. We were on the road by 6:00 AM and took the scenic Mississippi River route down to Lake City for breakfast. It was beautiful to watch the sun rise over the river. As I watched the pink and orange rays swirl through the clouds and stream downwards towards earth, I couldn't help but think of the beauty and majesty of God. As the tranquility of the morning competed with the VROOM! of the motorcycle (there's no other word for that, is there Peyton!?) I couldn't help but ponder what it took for us to be in that exact location at that exact moment in time. It was beautiful, it was surreal, it was sad ... it screamed of Rachel. Everything always does.

Last night I went to my high school class reunion. I haven't been to one in 15 years, at which time I was pregnant with Blake. Five years after that I was flat on my back on bedrest pregnant with Lance (you get sentenced to four months of COMPLETE bedrest when you go into labor at 21 weeks). Five years after that, Rachel was in the middle of radiation. Five years after that brings us to now. Standing in the middle of all of these people that I haven't seen in decades, whom I grew up with during my teenage years, and realizing that we are at an age that we knew we would be someday but just didn't realize how quick that someday would come really makes you think about the importance of each and every day. Of course, many of them did not know about Rachel so I got to replay that over and over and over again. How many kids do you have? Of course, I have three. What are their ages? Here we go ... It was fine. It really was.

Someone mentioned not wanting to bring up bad memories for me but wanted to ask me some questions. Rachel will never be associated with bad memories ... ever! Rachel will never be associated with hurt. Her death will be. Her cancer will be. But not her. Never her. But it's all wound up into one tight knot, isn't it? It can be hard to seperate Rachel from the cancer because her life mainly was cancer. It can be hard to seperate her cancer from her death because she died from cancer. Therefore, it's hard to seperate Rachel from her death. But it can all be done. We talk about Rachel all the time and it has nothing to do with cancer or dieing. It's just pure Rachel. What a joy!

So yesterday was about celebrating life and each and every day that we have of it. It was about good memories of those that we hold dear to us. It was about family and friends and old relationships and those yet to be formed. It was laughing over old crushes, googling at pictures of grandchildren and of infants of first-time parents. It was about memories recently made and those that go way back. It was a day of looking at life and remembering how important it is to cherish each day. It was a reminder how attitude IS everything. You can play the victim and let life trample you, or you can chose to trample life by playing to all of the goodness it has to offer. God is gracious and merciful and even in what may look like the worst life possible, there is still beauty, goodness, fun, happiness and love. I don't think being a victim is very much fun so why choose to play one? I'd rather relish all that life has to offer.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for life.
~Thankfulness for the life of Rachel.
~Healing for Barb Bachman--physically and emotionally.

Monday, August 11, 2008 1:40 PM CDT

I took a long weekend vacation with extended family. I packed up and left my three boys behind on Friday and I just returned today from a wonderful weekend of sailing! There were nine of us--all related in some way, shape, or form--who had quite an enjoyable time!

It was interrupted by a phone call telling me of the horrible news of the stabbings of two Americans in China. Two people whom Mark and I have gotten to know over the years. Two people whom are our neighbors and part of our church family. Just a few weeks ago Mark and I were sitting with them at a township meeting. We discussed the happenings of why we were at this meeting, and we also heard about their upcoming trip to China. Todd and Barb are wonderful people.

Barb volunteered to decorate all of the tables in the church's fellowship hall for Rachel's funeral if it was alright with me. Of course, it was alright! For those of you who aren't in Minnesota, Todd is the CEO of Bachman's Floral which is a very large floral and landscape company in the Twin Cities.

Please pray for Barb's healing--both physically and emotionally, and for their daughter's Sara, Susie, and Liz and their families. They've got an awful lot on their plates right now.

Specific Prayers:
~Barb's healing--physically & emotionally.
~For peace for the entire family as they battle the demons of bitterness and hatred that could ensue from Todd's senseless murder.
~That our church family be able to provide for the needs of this family when they return home (our new pastor has been here for less than two weeks).

CANCER SUCKS!!!! So does murder .....

Sunday, August 3, 2008 7:07 PM CDT

Last Tuesday I went to the cemetary to water flowers before we left on our "mini" vacation to Oshkosh, WI, for the annual aviation convention. I had finished watering all of the flowers on Rachel's, my mom's, and Mark's dad's graves. I stood looking at Rachel's headstone with the buckets in my hands and then turned and took a step or two away from it. I stopped in my tracks.

I have not "felt" Rachel as I did my mom. My mom visited me when her soul left her body and I have felt my mom around at different times and during different circumstances for about 15 months after that. At that point, there was an important conversation that occurred and I think she realized that I was going to be okay as I haven't felt her presence since.

Rachel was different. Rachel never looked back. I think she was reassured by her angels that Mommy and Daddy would be okay days before she even died so she didn't need to stick around to make sure.

I stood with my back to her headstone. I got the chills and the hair on my arms stood up. She was there. I could feel her with every fiber in my body. I turned around slowly fearing that she would be standing there by her headstone and scare the living daylights out of me or that she would go away if I moved. Thank goodness, neither happened yet I could feel her so strongly that I called out to her. "Rachel?!? Is that you? I feel you." "Yes, Mommy, it's me," I "heard". With tears streaming down my cheeks I confessed to her how much her daddy and I and her brothers loved her and missed her. I told her that we would be together again someday. "Soon," I heard her say. "Soon?" I questioned. "Soon," came her reply. "How soon?" "Soon." I stood there pondering that.

I don't believe that the spiritual time-frame of "soon" is the same as the human one as Christ told his disciples that he was returning soon ... that's been almost 2000 years. Two thousand years maybe soon to God, but it's not to me! I didn't get worried that Rachel's soon meant that we were going to be in an accident on our way to or from Oshkosh. I'm not worried that we're going to die this year, or next, or even in the next decade. No, our soon is much different than their's.

I questioned Rachel again but there was no answer even though I could still feel her. Her presence was powerful. I could've stood there all day soaking it up, yet I knew I had work to do at home. Being that she was no longer "speaking" to me, I told her that I loved her and that I hoped she would visit me again. I walked back to my truck, put the buckets in the back and then climbed in knowing--and feeling--that I was being watched.

At home, I cleaned the house. Nothing better than coming home from vacation to a clean home. I started vacuuming. What's that on the floor? I reached down and picked up a pink fuzzy. Where in the world did that come from? Then there was another one in a different room. And another one. I was smiling from ear-to-ear. Then I went into my bathroom to do the floors and as I stood in the middle of it a lime-green fuzzy floated through the air right to me. I caught it, turned it over and over in my hand and laughed out loud. A pink fuzzy followed. "Hello, Rachel," I laughed. "Hello, Mommy." I walked out of the bathroom into my bedroom--which I had just vacuumed--and found another pink fuzzy. Thank you, Pink Princess, your mommy needed that!

I know that there are people who don't believe in what I've just shared with you. I think they don't believe it because they've never had the priviledge of it happening to them. I think many don't want to believe that there is a very active spirit world all around us that we can't see filled with angels and demons and all of God's creations--yet I think many children are open to it. To think that this earth is all that there is, is hopeless. I don't believe in hopelessness.

Thank you, Rachel. Come visit again ... soon! "MY" soon, thank you very much! :-)

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for safety and family time while on our trip.
~Thankfulness for Rachel's life.

CANCER SUCKS!!!

Friday, July 25, 2008 8:40 AM CDT

It's Mark's birthday today. That means that six years ago Rachel was diagnosed at the fresh age of two. It was Friday, July 26, 2002, that I sat in that hospital hearing words that I just couldn't wrap my mind around. It was on that day that I had to call my husband, my parents, and my closest friends and tell them about the downward spiral we were heading into. I look back at that and think how much has changed in those six years. Six years ... that's it. Yet life has gone in a completely opposite direction from what it was then. How does that happen? It's as if we were thrown into a washmachine and set on the spin cycle and then dizzy and confused put into a circular room filled with doors and told to walk through one. The one we walked out through wasn't the one we walked in through. Life on this side of that door is very different from the life on the otherside of the door that we walked in from. Life has completely changed.

There are people who surrounded us then that are no longer here. Surprisingly, some of those are friends who couldn't deal with the situation and chose not to walk with us on the road that lied ahead. Even more surprisingly, some of those are family members who chose not to support us on our road. And the most surprising of them all, some of the people that we held the closest in our hearts have left us here in this desolate world and gone onto meet Jesus face-to-face. Life has completely changed.

There are new people in our lives. SO many new people! People who jumped in to walk with us on our journey. People who reconnected with us so they could be with us on our walk. People who have become wonderful friends. And relatives who weren't a part of our daily lives who now are. And, of course, there are those wonderful people who were there before-hand whom are still there now--closer than ever.

And through it all, we felt the hand of God. We've seen Him work in so many wondrous ways over the past six years. Certainly all of our prayers weren't answered the way that we wanted them to be, but who can know the great and mighty mind of God? Who can understand His ways? "Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him?" Romans 11:35

As I look back on the past six years of my life, I can't help but ponder the next six years. As I look back at my own life I can't help but look at the changes of the entire world and how quickly things have moved. One doesn't have to look far to see scripture coming true. "People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God." 2 Timothy 3:2-4 We see it every night on the news and have become hardened to it. It doesn't even get us excited anymore. We see it in our own families and yet we do nothing about it. Matthew 24:12 foretells of increasing wickedness and coldheartedness amongst the people in the last days. Hmmmmmmmmm ....

In my Daniel Bible study, Beth Moore says, "that holy and godly lives will not be accidental for any of us. The virus of self-gratification is far too contagious. If we don't want to catch it, we must deliberately immunize ourselves against it." We're not just going to stumble across God. We're not just going to magically live moral and righteous lives. We're not just going to die and go to Heaven. We are challenged by this culture we live in to "go with the flow", to think of ourselves, to be politically correct. Do we know what destination that way of thinking will bring us to? Where does that road lead? Do we care? What does it mean to live a godly life? What does it mean to fortify ourselves against corruption? What does it mean that we've been diverted? How DO we get to Heaven--you mean it isn't a given? Is it someplace we even want to go to? If we don't go there, where do we go? Have you ever thought about these things? Have you ever searched for the answers?

What will the next six years bring? Where will we be in 2014? We can plan all we want to, yet we aren't in control. Life has a funny way of taking some very unexpected 90 degree turns. Do you know where you're going? Are you sure?

Specific Prayers:
~God's will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008 7:05 PM CDT

It never ends. Thinking that I can include Rachel in something that I'm doing (the REAL Rachel not a picture, not an imagining, not a drawing) still hasn't stopped.

Now that the memory books for Rachel's friends are done, I've started working on Blake's and Lance's. I've pulled out all the pictures I have of her from 2000 and 2001 and have been sorting. What a task. Yet, I sure am glad I have each and every one of those pictures--even the ones with her tongue sticking out! I've found that I have a lot more pictures of Lance and Rachel together than I do of Blake and Rachel together. The reason is that Blake was already in school by the time Rachel was born and Lance is only a year ahead of Rachel. Therefore, they played together while Blake was at school, we went places together while Blake was at school, and they got into trouble together while Blake was at school. It's only natural that I have more pictures of the two of them together. As I was dividing the pictures up I made a firm committment to myself to take more pictures of Blake and Rachel together from now on. My hand stopped in mid-sorting as my brain caught up to my thought process. I shook my head and realized how wonderful my thoughts were but fulfilling them was even beyond delusional. It never ends.

Lance has been talking a lot about her this summer. The things they liked to do together. The things she would've loved doing that we're doing without her. Remembering times when we did the things we're doing but with her. It's very hard to listen to him talk about it, but listen we do. Thank goodness for sunglasses so that he (and no one else) can tell how many times my eyes well up with tears as he's talking.

Life moves forward ... without her. How can it? Yet it does. I want to know about the things her classmates are doing (the field trips, the birthday parties, the friendships), then again I don't. It's a fine line to walk. I haven't quite figured out how to do it yet. I think I'm straddling the tightrope and it hurts really bad. Lean to either side and you'll fall off. Not a fun place to be. Yet here I am. I've had nightmares before. This is so beyond that.

Rachel, we really miss you.

Specific Prayers:
~That the edges of the black hole soften.

CANCER SUCKS!!!

Friday, June 27, 2008 12:52 AM CDT

Summer is in full swing and I think we're missing her all the more. I finally finished the memory books of Rachel for six of her friends. I've given four of the girls their books along with as many of Rachel's stuffed animals as they wanted (or their mothers would let them have!) along with each getting one of Rachel's blankets that she used at the hospital. Now I get to start on books for her brothers and her cousin ... and one for Mark and I, too! The thought of it is a bit overwhelming. I'm thinking of doing some things in digital books.

I'm doing a Beth Moore Bible study this summer with a group of very faithful and faith-driven women. We're studying the book of Daniel. A couple of weeks ago we were studying God's deliverance and the different ways that he delivers his children. We were studying Daniel chapter 3 about Shadrach, Meshack and Abednego being willing to be thrown into a fiery furnace versus worshiping an image of gold. They announced to King Nebuchadnezzar that they didn't need to defend themselves before him and that the God they served was able to save them and that he could rescue them, but even if God didn't rescue them that they would never serve the King's gods. It was interesting to see their understanding that God may not choose to deliver them from that fiery furnace but they knew that no matter what he would deliver them through it in one way or another.

The study showed us how God has three kinds of deliverance from any trial (or a fire). God can deliver us from from the fire. An example would be that we've just been diagnosed with a tumor. We don't know if the tumor is malignant or not. We are sent home with the next appointment being for a pre-surgery scan. When we have that scan, we find that the tumor is gone. God has delivered us from that fire. We don't need surgery. We don't have to worry about it being cancerous. The trial is over. Our faith is built.

Or, rather than choosing to deliver us FROM the fire, God may choose to deliver us THROUGH the fire. That's where we find that that tumor is malignant and we must endure the ravages of treatment for as long as it takes to rid ourselves of it. We lean on God through the process and he delivers us through the trial. We prevail. Our faith is refined.

Then there's one more. Sometimes we aren't delivered from the fire, nor are we delivered through the fire. Sometimes we are delivered BY the fire straight into His arms. Our faith is perfected.

I guess, like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, we've been delivered through the fire. Rachel got the ultimate deliverance. It almost sounds wrong to say that I didn't want her faith perfected but only refined!

So now we walk through the fire of grief. And even though we feel we have no choices, we do. Do we bow down to the gods of bitterness, doubt, unbelief, anger, despair, and self-pity because we feel that God didn't come through for us or do we have our circumstances bow down and be servants to God?

I really don't enjoy refinement of faith. It can really hurt.

Specific Prayers:
~For knowledge and understanding of God's Word.
~That we feel God's loving arms around us as we continue to have our faith refined through this trial.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!

Sunday, June 8, 2008 8:10 PM CDT

I have chosen to share a poem that was written in Rachel's guestbook. The tears flowed like a river as I nodded in agreement with it and then I found myself literally chuckling out loud. "Thank you" to the person who shared it.

Ask My Mom How She Is

My Mom, she tells a lot of lies,
She never did before.
But from now until she dies,
She'll tell a whole lot more.

Ask my Mom how she is
And because she can't explain,
She will tell a little lie
Because she can't describe the pain.

Ask my Mom how she is,
She'll say "I'm alright."
If that's the truth, then tell me,
Why does she cry each night?

Ask my Mom how she is,
She seems to cope so well.
She didn't have a choice you see,
Nor the strength to yell.

Ask my Mom how she is,
"I'm fine, I'm well, I'm coping."
For God's sake Mom, just tell the truth,
Just say your heart is broken.

She'll love me all her life,
I loved her all of mine.
But if you ask her how she is,
She'll lie and say she's fine.

I am Here in Heaven.
I cannot hug from here.
If she lies to you don't listen,
Hug her and hold her near.

On the day we meet again,
We'll smile and I'll be bold.
I'll say, "You're lucky to get in here, Mom,
With all the lies you told!"

-Unknown

Specific Prayers:
~For peace and comfort for all parents whom no longer have their children with them on earth.
~For knowledge and wisdom of God's Word to make sense of things that just don't.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!

Friday, June 6, 2008 7:31 AM CDT

Friday.
Sunday.
Friday.
Sunday.

Friday--the day after school was let out. The day Rachel died.

Sunday--June 8th, the actual date of her death.

It's not Sunday that shakes me, yet June 8th does. It's not June 6th that makes me weep, yet Friday does. The day after school is let out will always be "the" day. That would be today. That day will just always be the day. It will just be.

I awoke this morning with my head realing. "What time is it?" my mind screamed. When I realized it was only 6:30 am, I was comforted by the fact that a year ago I was still sleeping. Sleeping. The comfort of sleep. The world where one can exist without existing. The place one can go and still see, touch, and hear those we miss. The place far away from what reality slaps us in the face with. The place we can't stay.

I don't want to think about it. I don't want to watch the clock and remember every detail of what happened. I don't want to replay it over and over and over again. It just hurts way too much. Yet, I catch myself looking at the clock. STOP IT!!! Why torture yourself? It is what it is and no replaying it is going to change it. It just re-emphasizes all the hurt that hasn't gone anywhere. Ah, yes, Monday will be considered day 366. I guarantee you that I'm not going to feel any different on Monday than I do right now. I guarantee you that the pain will not have lessend one iota. I guarantee you that I will still be grieving on Monday. And the Monday after that. And the Monday after that. And for each and every Monday for the rest of my life.

"Are you over her yet?" came the appauling question. I stood there frozen in my tracks knowing that if I moved I was going to slap the person. Over her??? OVER her??? Over HER???? I don't think so. How do you ever get over her???? The death of a loved one and the emptiness in your life that death now leaves is not something you "get over". The Rachel-shaped whole in my heart has no cure. There is no remission from grief. It just is. In the place of where Rachel once was is now a huge gaping hole. A pit. A darkness. An emptiness. A void. It can not be filled. Do I even want it to be?

I will never "get over" the void, the pit, the darkness--the black hole. But I will learn to live with it--I already have. But that doesn't make it easy. That doesn't mean I'm "better". That doesn't mean I'm "over" her. Oh, no ... far from it.

The tears are always a moment away. Whether they pool in your eyesockets and hang just above your lower eyelashes to evaporate away, be reabsorbed, or wiped by the back of a hand, they are there. Sometimes one trickles down your cheek and you feel it tickle all the way down to your chin. You wonder if your mascara has followed the tear, too, or if you now look like a racoon. The nose decides that it should join in on the activities and you feel it begin to run. Then there are the tears that flow and flow and flow without stopping cascading over your eyelashes and pooling in the dips of where your cheeks meet your eyes before flowing like a river down stream taking every thing in it's path with it--generally freshly applied makeup. I don't see that changing on Monday.

Life is different. How can it not be? It's different for the entire family. The boys play it out in their own ways. That, too, brings on the tears. And we forget that she's dead. That kicks you in the gut over and over again. We need five chairs, tickets, places, whatever it is we need. Then reality hits ... we only need four. It shoots from your mouth before you even realize it. "What about Rachel?" Lance will innocently ask. I will look at him with as much love as I can muster put into my expression and say, "Honey, Rachel's not here." And he is crushed once again. Yes, we forget. And then the reality weighs down on you like an avalanche of bricks. That will not change on Monday.

So we truck forward through this horrid weekend knowing that we have lived a year without her and not understanding how we could've. A year without her smiles. A year without her laughter. A year without her hugs. A year without her kisses. A year without her I Love You's. We don't know how that happened.

A year full of tears and memories. The upcoming year is looking the same. We may have "made it" a year, but that is just one more thing we didn't have a choice in. The sun rises and sets without our input. We don't have a choice in that one. We move through each day the best we can. We make the best choices we can with what is offered up before us. And through it all, we cling to the great I Am. For it is only through Him that we find solace in what seems a darkness that is incapable of being penatrated. Yet here we are. It just is. It will just be.

CANCER SUCKS!

Tuesday, May 27, 2008 8:18 AM CDT

It's getting harder. The year anniversary is just around the corner and it's still so hard and not getting any easier at all. The Mommy Guilt is in full force.

I don't want to have anyone try to make me "feel better". I don't want to hear "she's in a better place", "she wouldn't want you feeling that way", or any of the other trivial sentiments meant to try to make me feel better. Nothing will make me feel better. The Mommy Guilt is in full force and it's okay. It's okay to feel that way. It's okay for me to have it. It's okay.

I have guilt because I didn't think I could live a day without her, and here it is a year later. I've almost lived an entire year without her. Uncomprehendable. And there has been laughter, smiles, and good times ... without her. There's also been a lot of tears, and sobbing, and missing her terribly--but that goes without saying. I just can't believe it's been almost a year since I've felt her breath on my cheek. It's been almost a year since I looked into those gorgeous blue eyes. It's been almost a year since she last put her little hand in mine. It's been almost a year since I felt her warmth against my skin. It's been almost a year since I heard "I Love You". It's been almost a year since I held her. It's been almost a year ... How can that be?

Life should've stopped ... but it didn't. The sun kept rising every morning even when we didn't want it to. We had no choice in the matter. The only thing we have a choice about is how we live today. I choose to be happy and not bitter. I choose to live in God's light not in darkness. I chose to live and not hibernate. Yes, we still have choices ... even if we don't like some of them we must choose between.

I can't believe it's been almost a year ...

Specific Prayers:
~Peace and comfort as we travel forward toward the year anniversary of Rachel's death.

CANCER REALLY, REALLY SUCKS!!!!!!

Wednesday, May 14, 2008 6:57 AM CDT

Mother's Day came and went. I tried not to think about it. I wanted it to just be another day. I tried to forget that it was "Mother's" day. It's a made-up holiday meant to sell cards. Boy, it sure worked though, didn't it?

I think all of these "card holidays" have become so huge because of the fact that our society has an entitlement attitude. "I'm entitled to it", "I deserve it", "It's MY day" ... boy, sounds awfully self-centered to me. And from what I've been reading, none of us deserves anything but death and hell.

"I deserve it," I heard a very obese woman say to her two co-workers who were also very obese as she held up a bag of McDonald's which contained a Big Mac lunch. Then the co-workers chimed in about how they deserved the ice cream sandwich that was sitting on the top of their cafeteria bought gut bombs. Being that I was on an elevator with these three, I couldn't help but hear their conversation. I watched them wondering if I've ever sounded that way. "I deserve it." Really? Do we? What makes us so entitled? And what is it we deserve? Why?

I wonder what those three had done that was so wonderful that they deserved to fill their bodies full of junk. Have I ever said that about food or beverage? I'm sure I have. But why? Why do we feel we deserve things? Why do we feel we deserve to be treated special? Why do we feel we need to have our own days? When is God's day? Many of us made plans to spend last Sunday with our mothers or our spouse's mothers. It may have been for dinner, maybe it was for an hour, maybe it was all day. It was her day--all day long. Have you ever spent an entire day totally with God? Have you ever worshiped him all day long? Have you ever made plans to spend an entire day with him? I can honestly say that that has only happend at retreats, not in my own home on an everyday basis. God gets time, but often it's what is left over, not the cream of the crop.

"They have become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed and depravity. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit and malice. They are gossips, slanderers, God-haters, insolent, arrogant and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil; they disobey their parents; they are senseless, faithless, heartless, ruthless. Although they know God's righteous decree that those who do such things deserve death, they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them." Romans 1:29-32

Remind me, why do we feel so deserving? Why do we feel entitled?

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for Jesus whom gives us everlasting life when all we deserve is endless death.
~For peace in our hearts, our minds, and our souls as we approach the anniversary of Rachel's death.

Monday, April 28, 2008 10:01 AM CDT

"Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart."
--Eleanor Roosevelt

I have a group of footprints across my heart. I have a group of "sisters" whom continue to lift me up day after day, keep me laughing, keep me crying in memory (it's a good thing), keep me sane, and whom will let me get delusional, but actually keep me deeply grounded in reality. What a wonderful, diverse, beautiful group of women they are. And they did the most heartfelt thing for Rachel's birthday for me. They gave me a close-up charcoal drawing of the above picture. It's so incredible it looks real. Of course, I cried. The way they gave it to me was touching. It was a wonderful time. To me it signifies everything these women have been for me and continue to be. The love they have so freely shared with me and my family, the time they have given so freely to us before, during, and since Rachel's death are both uncountable and unrepayable. They don't want it that way anyway. It's just what you do for people you care deeply about. I'm very blessed.

No place in my house does the picture justice. Guess I need a new house. HA!!!! I WILL find a place!! It will not only remind me of the love that Rachel and I continue to share, but of the love of great friends. A plaque that was given to us by one of them says: "Friends are chosen family." I couldn't agree more.

"The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend." Exodus 33:11

"A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity." Proverbs 17:17

"A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." Proverbs 18:24

"Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses." Proverbs 27:6

"Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart, and the pleasantness of one's friend springs from his earnest counsel." Proverbs 27:9

"Do not forsake your friend and the friend of your father, and do not go to your brother's house when disaster strikes you--better a neighbor nearby than a brother far away." Proverbs 27:10

A good friend is held in high esteem in the Bible. I will not take any of mine for granted. With that, "Sistahs" I say, "Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I can never reveal to you the depth of my emotion for each one of you. You can never understand what your time, your caring, your phonecalls, your advice, ... your love, mean to me. You have endeared yourselves to me and you will forever be called Friend. YaYa? :-)

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for friends who help you walk with the Lord.
~Thankfulness for the love of true friends.
~That our friends continue to point us to God's path of healing.

Monday, April 21, 2008 7:38 AM CDT

It's over. :-) Made it past another mountain. We knew we would. And you know what? It was okay. It really was.

The day started out by bringing a beautiful very PINK flower arrangement to church in memory of our very PINK girl. After church, Lance and I made our way to the cemetary to finally get it cleaned up of all of the Christmas decorations and there were already masses of flowers, pictures, drawings and cards placed at her grave site for her birthday. We then went into town and bought a whole bunch of balloons.

While in town, Mark and his friend Jeff, put up a GIGANTIC inflatable birthday cake at her grave site that Rachel's Kindergarten teacher (you know, THAT Tutor!) had bought for that reason. It stands well over six feet tall as Blake is pushing six feet and it still towered over him. It's GREAT!!! I laughed like crazy when I saw it.

The four of us sang Happy Birthday at her grave site and released 8 balloons for her. We also left some mylar balloons there. We were okay. We really were.

Later in the day, some friends from Michigan came into town and I met them at the cemetary. I couldn't believe how the flowers and "stuff" had multiplied since I had last been there! More cards, more flowers, more pictures, and the BEST pink flamingo wind mill/wind sock you have ever seen! She was, and still is, a very loved little girl. She's missed by so many people. I can't thank all of you enough for remembering her with your words, with your cards, with your flowers, with your ornaments. It all means so very much to us. Thank you, also, to those of you who stopped by and called. To know that you are thinking about us is priceless.

It did end up to be a gorgeous day yesterday and we spent much of it outdoors enjoying the sun. The boys rode their 4-wheelers and we ended up going out for supper with Mark's brother and his wife who had stopped to see us.

I have to truthfully tell you that the day was okay. I just kept telling myself that although I wished she were there, her actual birthday was a very happy day. We were ecstatic to have her--a baby girl. There was nothing sad about her birth at all. Nothing. It was a good day and I want to always remember April 20 as a very good day. There are no woulda, shoulda, coulda's on that day. There never have been, there never will be. It's a happy day!

Now we go forth onto the anniversary of her death. I can't even begin to fathom that I've lived almost a year without her. How does that happen? How can I have lived that long without her? It's not possible. The "Mommy Guilt" is alive and well with that statement. Life should've stopped. But it didn't. It kept moving forward and me with it. I can't believe that it's been almost a year. I can't believe that it still hurts so darn bad. I can't believe I haven't died from the sorrow. It goes to show you that you can live through just about anything--whether you want to or not. Time keeps ticking away. Time keeps moving forward. It's what you do with that time that matters. And so we move ever closer to June 8, knowing that it was, and always will be, a sad day for us. Yet, that day was written as Rachel's date of death the day she was born. He knows the number of hairs on our head and the number of our days. She was destined to die that day no matter what. As Job says: Man's days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed. Job 14:5

Therefore, Rachel was to die June 8, 2008, no matter what we did or did not do. The choices we have are how we live the time between our birth and our death. If Rachel had not had cancer, if she had just been a "normal" little girl and had died in some other way, she would not have had the big life that she had. She would not have been able to touch all the people that she did. She would not have been able to do God's work as well. We were not to know that her days would be so short. But I'm sure she heard, "Well done, my good and faithful servant" from her Lord the day she entered into his presence. I long to hear those words someday.

No, we cannot extend our lives by one moment past what is already determined. But we can change the quality of our life up to that point. We do have choices. And we can hurt ourselves without dieing. It's surprising what we can live through--physically and emotionally. But change God's plan? No. Not to be done. So, we go forth living our lives. Although painful, life was never meant to be fair. Not everyone is going to heaven. Is that fair? Depends on how you look at it, I guess. There are going to be some "good" people who aren't going to be there. Salvation is not something you can buy with good works or by being a good person. There's more to it than that.

We live each day to the best of our ability. I choose, even in my pain, to be happy and to live. I also choose to thank God for all He has given me ... especially Rachel--even as painful as it's been. I wish I could change suffering and death, but that's a job way beyond human capacity. That was Christ's job. He did that on the cross. Someday we will be without it. How glorious it will be. How glorious it will be!! I anxiously await the day ...

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for the sunny day yesterday.
~Thankfulness for His carrying us through what could have been a very tough time.
~Thankfulness for His constant guiding hand.
~Thankfulness for letting us know He was near.

Monday, April 14, 2008 8:36 AM CDT

It's coming. Sunday is now less than a week away. Her birthday. It will come, and it will go, and it will be behind us ... for a while, at least. And then it will come again. It will forever be a reminder of the bit of sunshine that was ours for a short while.

Do you think they even remember their birthdays in heaven? Or are their death dates something much more to be celebrated? We come into this world crying while everyone else is rejoicing and we go out of this world rejoicing while everyone else is crying. What an oxymoron.

We're going to try and live this week "normally"--not even sure if we know what that term means. "Our" normal, I guess. Being that our normal pretty much includes daily crying, I'm sure that her birthday will be normal. We're just going to go about our business and be as normal as we can be. No matter what we do, it will be her birthday. No matter what we do, it won't change that. No matter what we do, there will be tears. So, I guess I'd rather be in the privacy of my own home, alone with my family. Anything we would choose to do would just magnify that she isn't there. Anything we would choose to do would be something which we enjoyed doing as a family which would mean that she enjoyed it, too. It's hard enough to magnify that on any other day, but on her birthday would be extra tough. So we will try to make it a normal day, with just the four of us, doing what we always do. Thank you to all of you whom have offered to "take me away" and do something that day, but I just really need to be home with my family--even if that means I will feel it all day long. So be it. This is something we have to work through and no one can help us do that.

Rachel's first birthday was the only one that she was truly cancer-free. And now this one ... Although not diagnosed yet, the cancer was already growing on her second birthday. She spent her third birthday in the hospital. Her fourth birthday she was in remission, but once you have cancer, are you ever really rid of it? Her fifth birthday she was in the hospital, in ICU on a ventilator not expected to live. Her sixth birthday she was feeling well but living with tumors in her and doing treatment. Her seventh birthday she was very ill. This birthday, she's cancer-free. Completely. Forever.

Cancer. Once you have it, it affects you for the rest of your life. Are you ever truly rid of it? I think it's another one of those things that you learn to live with. You learn to live with going in for scans--and the fear that goes with it. Or you don't go in for scans because of the fear of what it could show. You either have cancer and are in treatment, or you have cancer and aren't in treatment. Or, you are physically without cancer but mentally you never will be because there's always at least a touch of fear that it will return. No, I don't think you ever get rid of cancer once you have it. It will forever be a part of who you are and how you are described: "She's a cancer survivor". Cancer defines you. You are never rid of it. It is a part of who you are. You learn to live with it--whether it's active or not. Until you die. At that moment, you will truly be cancer-free. The "C" word may not always mean the "D" word anymore, but the "C" word will, from the moment you are diagnosed with it, define the rest of your life for you. You are never rid of it, you just learn to live with it. Sounds a lot like grief--you are never over it, you just learn to live with it.

Don't know if you care anymore, Rachel (my bets are that you don't), but for what it's worth, Happy Birthday, Sweet Pea. We miss you.

Specific Prayers:
~That the Lord carry us through this most difficult time. ~That we literally feel His arms around us as He lifts us up and over this steep mountain that looms in front of us.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!

Friday, April 4, 2008 9:45 AM CDT

I'm behind. I'm just so behind. I'm behind in so many things and the more I look at my computer (especially those emails), the more behind I get!! So I think I'm just going to jump in where I'm at and wipe the slate clean.

I've started something new and I've become totally absorbed with it for a couple of reasons. Rachel's birthday looms ahead of us like Mt. Everest. I've been able to see the tip of it in front of us for a very long time. As the days traverse forward, the day becomes bigger and bigger and it almost seems as if a wall is being built right in front of us. I know we'll make it over this mountain--we always do. April 21st will come and it will all be behind us. But for now, April 20th looms big, and huge, and very different. Because of this, I decided to do something crazy and now it's taking up a lot of my time. But that's okay. It's allowed. It makes me think of this mountain in a totally different light.

There is going to be a birthday party at school for Rachel in two weeks. Since some of Rachel's closest friends will be at this birthday party, I have decided to give birthday presents to these little girls. Rachel had several close friends whom I know are missing her very much. As a seven-year-old, you don't have memories of prom, dating, college, or weddings, but you do have school, playing on the playground, birthday parties, and hospital visits. Because of Rachel's illness, many things happened at school that were rather, well, out of the ordinary. Pushing Rachel around on the teacher's chair when she had her casts. Being her indoor recess playmate during the weeks of having those casts. Carrying Snowy (a stuffed dog) around to gym, music, art, reading, etc. so that he could email Rachel in the hospital about the daily business of a busy first grade class. One of these girls was in Kindergarten with her, too. Yes, so many big memories contained in the hearts of these little girls. So, Rachel's mommy is making these special little girls memory books. Memory books filled with pictures of Rachel with these girls.

Yeah ... memory books. Memories ... they can rip your heart out. I'm scrapbooking memories. It's been wonderful and awful all tied up into one. It's been great and it's been horrid. There's NOTHING therapeutic about it AT ALL. Trust me on this one. Memories aren't something you need to work through. They aren't something that you have to make yourself do. They aren't like having to go through her things and decide what to keep and what to (gasp!) get rid of. It isn't making yourself stand in her bedroom feeling all of the pain so that the next time you walk in there it isn't quite as bad. It isn't working through Christmas or a birthday. They are just memories. That's it. Just memories. Nothing there to work through. But the tears. It can become very hard to work on a page through all of the tears. It's going to be kinda hard to give these books away. Did I just write "books"? Heck, I don't even have the first one done yet (it has taken on a life of its own) and I have less than two weeks to get two more done and life going on inbetween that. Oh, well.

I was standing at the counter of a scrapbooking store asking the clerk some questions (I'm a newbie at scrapbooking) and as she was ringing up my purchases she asked, "What are you working on?" I stopped digging through my purse and looked up at her. "Do I tell her or do I just glance over what I'm doing?" went quickly through my mind. I decided to tell her. She looked at me and said quietly, "My best friend died when I was really young. I wish I had a memory book of her rather than just the two small pictures that I still keep." This was a mother of two children. She still harbored love and desire for this friend that died when she was in elementary school. I could've hugged her. It completely cemented my purpose for doing this--no matter how emotionally hard it is.

So, I'm behind. I will continue to be behind. I'm feeling a need to do this and to do this for Rachel's birthday. Yes, it's hard. I've had some tough weeks associated with it. At one point, as I was having an extremely tough day during an extremely tough week someone near and dear to me said, "Do you think it's because you've been looking at pictures of her all week?" Hmmmm ... do you think there's something to that??

It's not getting any easier. I can't believe that her birthday looms in front of us already and the anniversary of her death is in just over two months. I can't believe that I've lived without her that long. I can't believe I've hurt for that long. I can't believe after this long that I have any tears left in me. But, I do. There is a never-ending supply of them. The feelings are no less. And the memories. Oh, those memories. I sure am glad for my tens-of-thousands of pictures (literally). That's all I have of her now. I'd give anything to be able to take more. Interestingly enough, as I was putting together a page for this scrapbook I realized that I didn't have a picture of just Rachel and one of her friends doing an activity at school like I thought I did. "I'll just run to school and take one of the two of them," is the thought that instantly ran through my head. Now wouldn't THAT be something! I've done that more than once. It's like putting a knife through your heart all over again. Don't even get me started on the dreams I've been having of her lately.

Memories ... meant to be made and not forgotten.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for bringing us through Easter with the love of friends we consider family.
~Thankfulness for the gift of Rachel's little girlfriends whom she loved so much.
~Thankfulness for the gift of memories.
~For guidance as we traverse the rocky path leading up to her birthday.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008 7:56 AM CDT

Tears .... I've been on the verge of them for the past week or so. Often they spill over their dams and leave me racing for a Kleenex. I hate this. It can be a thought, a song on the radio, an event she should be at ... just about anything. This morning it's the gorgeous snow that has our entire world white. The trees look like they have frosting on them. It's a sticky snow. A snowman-building snow. She would've loved it.

When will the tears stop? Why do they have to come in the first place? Why does death have to be so painful? Why did it have to happen? All of the why's have been surfacing their very ugly heads. The answer to all of the why's is: why not? Why Rachel? Why not Rachel? Why our family? Why not our family? No one is immune to suffering. Absolutely no one.

As I was driving down the snowy road yesterday, I looked at all of the men making up the work crews that were working along the road putting in sewer and water just a few miles from our home. Many crews labored doing different things. I wondered what each of them was suffering from. Who had heartache today? Which of them had realtionship troubles with their spouses? Their kids? Their parents in their old age? Who had diseases affecting their lives? How many suffered from grief? Who was haunted by financial problems--of their own making or other? Who was going to be the next one to die?

We all have our seperate roads. We all have potholes. Most of us are not living the lives we thought we would. We have all suffered in some way, shape, or form. Some of it just seems more horrifying than others. Most of it can be life changing. But, why not? Why not?

I don't like it. I can't change it. There's nothing anyone can do about it. It's so unfair. Life was never meant to be fair. Life is about suffering and finding God's grace and mercy. We all suffer, it's just that some suffer in more agonizing ways than others. No one is living a perfect life. No one. Everyone has suffered at some point or another. We can be at good spots in our lives. We can experience joy. But, the suffering has been there and it will come again. So may the joy. It's a rollar coaster ride. Why shouldn't it be?

I had to go to the hospital last week. I drove into Children's parking ramp as I've done a million times before ... everything so familiar. I've been here a few times now since Rachel died so it shouldn't be a problem. How could I be so nieve? As I drove upwards my chest started to tighten. I could feel the ache as my ribs collapsed onto the organs inside of them. It wasn't hard to breathe but I kept taking deep breaths just in case. The tightening continued. The memories flooded my entire body. So many memories. So many trips into this parking ramp. So much time spent in this spot. The truck thought it was home. I just felt totally odd and out-of-place.

When I left I chose to drive-through McDonald's. Rachel's McDonald's. What ever possessed me to do that??? As I ordered my Happy Meal I KNEW that I should be ordering two and asking what each toy was--over half the time Rachel wanted the boy toy. I KNEW that I should be asking if she wanted fries or apples with her meal. I KNEW that I should be handing over twice the amount of money to the SAME McDonald's employee. I KNEW that I should be getting two bags and two drinks handing one of each into the back seat. I KNEW all of these things. My chest tightened. No, not again! I breathed. Dang it, it's a McDonald's, for pete's sake!!!! Her McDonald's. It will always and forever be, Rachel's McDonald's. I'm not sure I even tasted my food. I'm not sure if I breathed while I ate, or not. I must have.

I continue to ask God to help me through each day and He continues to do that. Some days I think He stands by the wayside and watches how I do, but when I start to sink He pulls me up. It's not the best trend, but I guess it's working. He's parenting me. He's making sure I know that I can't do it without Him.

Why did she have to die? Why? Why not? And let's throw "because" in there for good measure.

Specific Prayers:
~That God carry us through Easter, Rachel's favorite holiday (we've got that in writing even).

Sunday, March 9, 2008 7:47 PM CDT

I sat with my hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea, feeling the warmth travel through my fingers and up through my arms. I blanklessly watched out the window. I'm sure the birds were at the feeders having a feeding frenzy as they kept one eye on the squirrels that were probably eyeing up the same food. But, I didn't see it. I sat there staring. Thinking about everything ... yet nothing. Feeling everything ... yet nothing.

All of a sudden I shook my head. I couldn't believe the thoughts that I had to physically shake from my mind. The thought that I needed to call my mother. I needed my mom because I was feeling very badly about Rachel ... it was the nine month anniversary of her death. How ironic. I needed my mom because I needed Rachel ... yet they have each other. It's so not fair.

It seems that life is more about loss than anything else. No matter what good comes into your life, at some point you will lose it ... or it will lose you. I used to think that life was about all the new things ... new babies, new marriages, new friends, new schools, new houses, new cars, new jobs ... everything new. Only thing is, it doesn't take long for the new things to not be so new anymore. New marriages are now decades old, new babies are teenagers, new cars are traded for different ones, same with the new houses ... or they become decades old. New friends are now friends you've had forever and your kids don't remember life without them. And the obituaries have people the same age as you are in them every week ... even much younger.

Now it's about staying power. The new is gone. There will be no more new babies. My "newest" one will be forever young. Parents die. Friends die. Children die. The washmachine dies. The refrigerator dies. The furnace dies. There's a new bus driver because the last one had a heart attack. There's a new preacher because the last one retired. Who's next?

I needed my mom. She wasn't there. I just finally took her email address out of my computer's address book. Although I didn't try it, something tells me it wouldn't have worked. Wish we could email heaven. I'd love to email Mom and Rachel. PinkPrincess@Heaven.com would be my most used address. But it is not to be. The cell phone number doesn't work either.

It's a revolving door and each of us has a number. We came in through the revolving door and we'll go out through it. My mom's number was 62. Rachel's number was seven--that's now the average life cycle of a washmachine, refrigerator, or trash compactor, by the way. At seven they are old, at seven Rachel was still new. Yes, we all have a number. What's yours?

Specific Prayers:
~To uphold our family as we face the remembrance of the death and resurrection of our Savior without Rachel.

Thursday, February 28, 2008 2:02 PM CST

This was sent to me by a friend. I thought the visual was really good.

Riding The Waves
by Ramona Lyddon, Chester, CA

I feel as if I have been body surfing in the ocean, cruising at the top of the wave, enjoying the ride--then suddenly, being body-slammed into the sand. Unable to move, the waves rush over me, pounding and crashing onto me. Occasionally the tide recedes, and I lay breathless on the wet, sandy shore. I cannot move. I wiggle my toes, squint, open my eyes, and see the rest of the shoreline. While my view is obscured by my tears, the salty sea, my straggly hair, and my prone position, there is some daylight. Just as I prepare to roll over, and maybe get to my knees, the waves of grief lap at my toes and suddenly crash upon me once more. Unable to withstand the power of the waves, I fall to the beach once again.

Finally, the tide recedes again, but I still cannot move. I am bone tired from my past efforts. I am aware of noise around me. I can hear the chirping birds, and feel the warm sun. The laughter of children beckons me to once again open my eyes. Helping hands are touching me, encouraging me to rise up. Gently hands soothe me with their light touch. Warm hugs embrace me. It feels good, for a while . . . until the voices drift on down shore, leaving me alone with the setting sun. I marvel at the beauty and thank God for His presence.

It becomes dark again. The wind blows in, bringing dark clouds and a chill to the air. I shiver, and the sense of calm and peace is not so reassuring. The tide is at my ankles, and my toes sink into the sand. I can do this. I can stand up against this set of waves--maybe. Or, maybe it's easier to lie down and let them roll over me. Better yet, I wade out further, a little deeper, challenging the waves of grief. And then? Surprise? I lie down and float. The waves roll under me, crashing harmlessly on the shore. As I float, I look up at the rising moon. The waves lull me to sleep in the moonlight. Maybe, just maybe, I will rest well. Maybe, I can ride these waves. Maybe a new, sunny day is coming.

Specific Prayers:
~That we be able to float on top of the waves of grief.
~That as the waves crash, God calms His children through this storm.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!

Friday, February 22, 2008 12:13 AM CST

As I have said before, the fingerprints left by Rachel are everywhere in our house, in our lives, and even at other places. I thought that I had pretty much seen them all, felt them all, relived them all by now. I was wrong. I was once again knocked in the chest this week by her. You'll never believe what I was doing.

I opened up the folder that our accountant sends every year to help us do our taxes. I started going through the sheets one by one filling in the blanks and answering the questions. "Has the number of dependents in your house changed?" Yes, I hesitantly check. "Why?" Good question. I don't know why. Because Satan sucks? I didn't think that was the answer they were looking for. I turned the page. All three of the kids' names were listed with their birthdates. Great. I got to add Rachel's death date.

The line for medical expenses showed the amount we payed out of pocket last year. I looked at that amount. It brought so many memories back. Then I had to go through all of her medical stuff for this year. Her doctor visits, her hospital stays, her trips to the emergency room. The home care bills, the emergency bills, the pharmacy bills, the bill for her oxygen machine, the bill for her durable medical supplies, her tubing, and her masks. The receipts for medications, supplies, and all the things that in the end couldn't help her.

Taxes. Who would've thought that she'd be in the taxes? Who would think that tax time would be a time of remembering her, of thinking of her, of having to deal with her death all over again? Who would've thought that money dealings would have anything to do with her? Not that we ever thought it, but even all the money in the world couldn't have saved her. Taxes. She's even in the taxes. "Miles driven for medical purposes" ... gads, she's even in the mileage. So many memories of her last six months once again dredged up through the taxes. Who would've thought?

And then, it's over. I'm not sure what's worse. Doing the taxes with her in them or knowing that I will never do taxes again with her in them. They are both wrong. They both hurt. Neither should be an option. I packed everything up knowing that her last medical bill was in there. I packed everything up knowing that her last prescription receipt was in there. I packed everything up knowing that I was packing up that part of her life for the last time. Taxes ... they've never hurt so much.

Specific Prayers:
~For Mickey's family--an 11-yr-old leukemia patient who just went to be with Jesus.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!

Tuesday, February 19, 2008 1:55 PM CST

Another year checked off and filed. Another year that isn't going down in the history books as one of the best years to have been had. Another year I wish hadn't happened. I'd like to go back six years and have time stop. Life was good then. Life was happy then. So many people I love were still here.

The new millenium hasn't been all that it was touted to be. As with anything new, change has come ... in a very drastic way. And the clock keeps ticking. The calendar keeps turning. We are all getting older minute by minute. Another birthday. Another day filled by thoughts of Rachel. She would've thought today was cool. I just think today is, well, it's another day.

I'd like to sleep it away. I'd like to skip the "celebrating". I'd like to forget about it. I don't care about the number--it's just a number. And like good wine and good cheese, we just keep getting better with age. A number means nothing. Kind of like time. Time means nothing. It's just a number. It's just time. It's what we do with that number, or what we do with that time that matters. You can be a young 80 and an old 20. The number doesn't matter. It's what you've done with your time that matters. If you do nothing, all time does is pass. It does nothing on it's own. Well, I guess it ages, doesn't it? A banana will age just sitting on the counter. So will we. Besides that, time does nothing.

The choices we make are what bring us the results over time. Time doesn't do that on it's own. What choices are we going to make today that will affect tomorrow? Next week? Next month? Next year? Next life?

We have many choices to make that will result in different outcomes over this lifetime and the next. Are you sure that your choices are ones that will positively affect those outcomes? Such things to ponder on a reflective day.

It's cold. I'm tired. I'm older. So what. The clock keeps ticking.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!

Friday, February 15, 2008 9:03 AM CST

"Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned, they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated--the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground. These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised. God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect." Hebrews 11:36-40

Not even all of the prophets got everything they wanted or prayed for. Some had horrible deaths, some worked all their lives toward a reward God had given yet they, themselves, did not receive that reward, and still others struggled under many circumstances. Yet, through it all, they held fast to their faith.

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Hebrews 11:1

Rachel died ... and with that, part of me. I will never be who I was. There will always be a part of me that will be incredibly sad. Forever. But my faith in God did not die. Apostesy is not a word I ever want used to describe me. Apostesy is the Greek word for a falling away from the faith--the true faith of Jesus Christ. It is what Satan is waiting for ... an apostesy within the church.

"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men." Matthew 5:13

Once the salt, believers, loses its saltiness--once it ceases to fulfill it's function, then the way is open for the final manifestation of Satan.

Yes, Rachel died. Yes, I am sad. Yes, there will always be a part of me gone, missing, invisible. Yes, there will always be a gigantic hole in my life that no one or anything could ever fill. But I will walk forward knowing that God will give me the peace to live with that hole if I but work for it and ask. He's not just going to BAM! give me peace. That comes with work, with faith, with trust. The peace comes, but not on it's own.

Ever pray for patience? Why? Do you like to be tortured??? God will not just BAM! give you patience. He will give you the opportunities to PRACTICE your patience! I don't like those opportunities. I stopped praying for my patience years ago! In the past I have asked that no one pray for my patience ... I continue with that request! :-)

So, we move forward trying hard to not look back because the longing it creates is like a blast of artic cold wind being forced into your lungs. It makes it hard to breathe, it makes it hard to think of anything but it, and it's definitely hard to move forward. If you stop there, you may never leave that spot. And leave it we must. Forget it? Never! But we must leave it. Onward ...

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for the many emails that brought me to tears and heart stoppages.
~Thankfulness for the gift of prayer.
~Thankfulness for God's Word.
~Thankfulness that God answers prayers--not always in the way we want them, but He does answer them.
CANCER SUCKS!!!!!

Monday, February 11, 2008 5:42 PM CST

Someone much smarter than me told me to reign in the horses and pray over this. So ... before I totally shut down from journaling, I'm going to spend several days praying about what I should do rather than just making my own decision about this large matter. Please pray that I hear God's word loud and clear.

Jodi

Monday, February 11, 2008 12:13 AM CST

You know, sadly it has come to my attention that inaccuracies about what I'm writing in this journal are being told and they're being told to my husband. So, rather than having to defend myself to him when I shouldn't have to--because what's being said is not what's being written, I've decided that it's probably time to quit journaling the grief of our family in this arena.

If you would like to email me your memories about Rachel, I will be happy to post them here for all to read. My email address is: FlyingCook@aol.com

I can hardly wait to read what you have to say!

Specific Prayers:
~Please pray for others whom, for some reason, feel the necessity to say things about others that aren't true.

CANCER SUCKS!!!

Sunday, February 10, 2008 2:55 PM CST

I'm back online! My PC isn't up and running yet, but my laptop is working slick thanks to Robert (that would be Beth's hubby)!!!!! I'm going to be forever indebted to him! Eeeegads!

The eighth month anniversary of Rachel's death has come and gone. It wasn't as traumatic as last month--thank God. It's hard to believe that we've lived without her kisses, her hugs, her smell, her smiles, her deep blue eyes for eight months. Are you sure it hasn't been eight years? It seems like so long ago since I held her in my arms. It seems like so long ago since she told me she loved me. It seems like so long ago since I did anything with her. Eight months. It's only been eight months.

Laying in bed yesterday morning enjoying the quietness of the house, Mark asked me, "What do you want for your birthday?" I was laying on my side with my back to him. My eyes pierced the air looking for a spirit which I knew wasn't there. "You can't give me what I want," I replied. Silence lay between us. "I know," he quietly responded as a tear rolled down my cheek and wet my pillow. "I know." Silence. I imagined the dust that I would see in the air if the sunlight were streaming fully through the window thinking to myself, "From dust you came, to dust you will return". Lovely thought. "Is there anything that I can get you for your birthday?" the voice asked. Ah, a restatement of the question. There is nothing I need. I have everything I need. All the necessities of life are fulfilled. There is nothing materialistic that I need. Those are never needs anyway--they are wants. And I really don't want anything except for the one thing that I can't have. Birthday? Do we have to have it? Inevitably, yes.

So, what can he get me for my birthday? He wants to shop for me. He wants to spend money. What can he buy me that I will want/need/enjoy/delight in? Boy, that's a loaded question. Especially when all roads lead to Rachel. Yet, he can't buy that. Target doesn't carry her. Nor does K-mart, Walmart, Sam's, or the superette down the road. I am supposed to find a material thing that I "want", that I "desire", that I "need". Yet, no material item will fill the hole in my heart, in my head, or in my soul. Nothing material ever has or ever will ... for anyone. It's that old addage that material stuff will never bring you inner happiness or spiritual joy. So I'm left pondering my birthday present. "Diamonds?" the husky voice behind me asks. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm .... a trip to the jewelry store sounds fun! Have I told you lately how much I love this man?!?! Yet, diamonds are not needed. Diamonds won't bring her back. Diamonds won't prove his love for me. But, since I can't come up with anything, maybe it will be diamonds. Maybe ...

And maybe not. Maybe nothing. Maybe a card. Maybe forgetting about the day is the best answer. I don't know. How about a stopper for the tears? A cork for the hole? A jar with a lid to put the longing into? Everything just looks so pale once put up against her and all that "her" represents. There is nothing that compares. Nothing that holds a candle to it. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. All I can do is love deeper and hurt harder.

Present? I had her. What more could I ever want? Maybe we'll just skip this birthday and call it even.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for friends like Robert who are always there to lend a helping hand.
~Thankfulness for the blessing of a truly loving and caring husband and children.
~That our family's journey without Rachel become easier.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008 9:37 PM CST

The computer problems continue but not for too much longer as this "thing" is going in for a major overhaul! I will be without a computer for a while, so don't overload the email inbox with the "WHERE ARE YOU???" emails!! :-)

Blake's 14th birthday was yesterday and it was different to celebrate it so "quietly". No relative birthday party, no friend birthday party, just family friends (whom we call chosen family) out for lunch together over the weekend. That's what happens when you get "old", you know! Fourteen. Where does the time go? On one hand it seems to go so fast, and the other hand it seems to go so slow. My "baby" is growing up too fast, yet Heaven seems to be taking an awfully long time to get here.

When it rains it pours as not only will the computer be getting fixed, but my truck is in the shop totally undriveable. Some days you just can't win. Some weeks you can't either. Heck, even some years aren't so hot--I could name a couple right off the tip of my tongue. Guess with all the excitement of things not working, Rachel has actually not been at the forefront of the thought process. Oh, don't get me wrong, she's always there it's just she hasn't been the focus. Still dreaming wierd dreams, though. Those can be very hard to decipher.

Two thoughts to leave you with. Another mother who lost a child last spring (16 year old daughter) told me the other day when we were having coffee together that we come into this world crying and everyone around us is rejoicing and we go out of this world rejoicing while everyone around us is crying. Do you think there's something that we just don't get inbetween??? Something to ponder.

A quote that was shared with me that I'll have to find again so I can give the person who said it credit goes something like this: When a woman loses her husband she's a widow. When a man loses his wife he's a widower. When a parent loses a child the pain is so terrible that you can't even name it.

Yeah ... the question "Who am I?" does come to mind. Am I the mother of two? Or of three? Am I the mother of a daughter? Or not? I think it all depends on who you talk to. Is the mother of a stillborn a mother? How about the mother of a miscarriage? Does it hurt more to lose a child at the age of 14 than 5? Is it easier to lose them at 2 than at 10? Perspective. I think many of us would like to think that there's a difference in pain level. But, once experiencing it, I'm not sure how there could be. I'm a parent of a dead child. There's no name for it. No name could touch the horror of it. No matter what age, no matter what the circumstances, no matter anything ... it is a pain so terrible that you can't even name it.

Specific Prayers:
~For transportation issues to resolve while without a vehicle.
~For computer issues to resolve.
~That the black hole in our lives remain still, silent, and unobtrusive.
~That we feel God's big and loving arms around us as we continue to experience all of the firsts without Rachel.

Monday, January 28, 2008 2:17 PM CST

Computer issues, computer problems, stupid computers!!! Or is that stupid computer users???? UGH!!!! And they are supposed to make our lives easier .... yeah, whatever. :-) So, yes, I'm having computer issues and don't exactly know what to do about them short of throwing it out of an upstairs window. Please bear with me as I go through this "crisis"!!

Life is moving forward ... so is the big black hole. I feel, sometimes, like it's my dog. I put it's leash on and we go out for our walk. I have to take my black hole with me where ever I go. Problem is, I can't leave it at a kennel. No luck with that one. And life goes on.

We went out to eat last night and Lance was utterly convinced that we needed a table for seven--we needed one for six because there were two other people with us. He argued with me, "But, Mom, five plus two is seven." "Yes, that is correct, Lance. But you're counting Rachel and she's not here." He froze in his tracks. "Lance, without Rachel we are four." He counted using his fingers and then muttered under his breath that it should be five. I agree. It should be five. We should've needed a table for seven. But, we didn't. We don't set a place or reserve a chair for the black hole.

I know the boys miss her. Blake said that he just doesn't like to think about it because it makes him so sad. "I don't understand it, Mom." None of us do, Sweetie. None of us do ... least of all me. There is no sense to be had from it. And the black hole takes a seat.

"MOM!!!!" the upset voice calls from the back seat of the SUV. "Now that Rachel's carseat isn't in here you said that he could sit there and I could sit here so why is he in the middle????" questions a frustrated Blake. Because the black hole is strapped in, too? How the heck should I know?? "Why are you sitting in the middle, Lance?" "I don't know." Uh-huh.

It follows you. Sometimes it's a shadow that you know is there but you work around it. Sometimes you're able to leave it in another room and are able to pick it back up again when you're ready. Sometimes you turn around and fall face first into it when you least expect it. Sometimes you can't shake it because it seems to be attached to you. Sometimes you're able to put it away in a box but it always finds it's way back out again. It's always there. It's always lurking. It's ever present. The black hole. The unending void.

It's there. It always will be. It's how you learn to live with it that will define you. Or, maybe it's how you define it that you learn to live with. I don't know. Either way isn't fun. Either way is hard. The black hole. The void. The emptiness. The loss. The grief. It sucks. Cancer really sucks.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for the wonderful and safe time Blake had on both his trip up north skiing and his trip up north with school.
~That peace and understanding fill our family's hearts and minds as we learn to live with the void of Rachel.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!

Friday, January 18, 2008 4:28 PM CST

A friend of mine asked me how do I move on from this. My answer was that I don't think I have moved on. Not at all. I just live. I have to. Everyday lived is one day closer to being with her. That's what gets me through each day. It's an oximoron, actually. Each day lived is getting farther from her, yet each day lived is getting closer to her. It's a strange and sad existance. There isn't a day that goes by that my arms don't ache. There is hardly a day that goes by that I don't have tears streaming down my face at least once because of her. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about her. There isn't a day that goes by that I'm still not angry. I don't think I've moved an inch. Not really. But I don't wallow in it. It doesn't do me, or anyone else, any good. I don't know if I'll ever move beyond it. I know I'll never "get over it". How do you? Truthfully, do I want to move? Will that mean that I've forgotten her? Then there's the guilt with that. What a predicament. So, one foot in front of the other. Open eyes. Sit up. Swing feet over side of bed. Stand. Move one foot. Move the other. Mechanical. Sometimes it's just that way. You just "do it" because you have to. You just "do it" because you know there's really no other choice. You just "do it" because that's what Rachel did. You just "do it" because you know that's what she wants you to do. You just "do it" because you know those are the exact words she'd use. You just "do it". But move? I don't think so. Not really. Probably not ever.

There are better days than others, but none of them are particularly "good" anymore. There are days with less tears than others if that's how "good" is now defined. There are days that the pent-up feeling of exasperation isn't quite as powerful as others. There are days that you are happy to still be on this earth, but there are a lot more days that you wish it would all be over with--and this has NOTHING to do with suicidal thoughts. If that were true, there'd be a lot more suicides happening--trust me on that one. There are days where everything flows calmly, and there are days where you spend the majority of time traversing the rapids. Get over it? I don't know how one can when there is this huge, gaping, black hole right in the middle of your life ... right in the middle of your family. You never get over it. You never get past it. You learn to live with it. And, so other people aren't uncomfortable, you learn to not talk to them anymore. There are many people who can't deal with the fact that others hurt. They don't want to know about your pain. They don't want to see your pain. And for pete's sake they certainly don't want to feel your pain. They want you to be over it. It doesn't work that way. It never will. Many don't understand that.

So, those of us walking this road bond together. We find each other through the strangest of ways. We create bonds and friendships and groups with people whose circumstances we never wanted to be joined with. Our pain bonds us. Our emptiness is shared. Our grief is understood. And no one is over it ... or expecting others to be.

We move forward. One foot in front of the other no matter how mechanical. Forward. Onward. But never, never over. The expanse is too wide to cross. The hole is too deep to traverse. No, never over it. The hole will never leave. You just learn to live with that hole. You learn to live with the emptiness in your life. You learn to live with the pain. You learn to live without that missing piece. You learn to "deal" with it. I don't think you are ever over it, though. Ever. I wish one could be ...

Specific Prayers:
~For God's peace to settle on our family.
~For safety for Blake on his ski weekend up in northern Minnesota and subzero temperatures. (Oh, BRRRRRRRRR!!!!!)

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!!

Sunday, January 13, 2008 8:12 PM CST

It's been a tough week. Tuesday was the seventh month anniversary of Rachel's death. Wednesday was Mark's oldest brother's birthday. Jimmy died when he was 14 months old. He would've been 59 on Wednesday. Although it never affected me personally, all I could do was think about my mother-in-law and wonder about how I'm going to feel in 52 years when it's Rachel's 59th birthday. Hopefully, I won't live that long. Then, Thursday was the third anniversary of Mark's dad's death. Fun week.

Today, Mark gave away Rachel's kitchen to his brother for his grand-daughters without my knowledge. He figured we didn't have any little girls to play with it anymore. I happened to go over to his house within an hour of him bringing it over there. Being that Rachel has decorated the microwave with stickers, I knew it was hers immediately. And it made me sob. I've been trying to emotionally part with that thing since the end of last summer. Hasn't worked. It's now back in our basement. Whew! But, my eyes still hurt from crying. The waves just took over. And it's not that I cried that hard, it just hit me like a ton of bricks. Not fun.

This week has been draining. I'm also needing to feel her, to touch her, to see her. It's not happening, I know that. But emotionally I need her. It's very hard to explain. And it's made worse by the knowledge that the veil between the two worlds isn't going to lift for my satisfaction. It's certainly not getting any easier. If you would've told me that a couple of years ago, I don't know if I would've believed you. I'm here to tell you that it still hurts so bad that I could explode. I know that she's there ... she has to be. Yet, I can reach and grapple and never find her.

The emptiness is so real ... and overwhelming. The silence is deafening. My arms ache for her. Nothing can fill these empty arms. I will never stroke her silky hair again. I will never feel her breath on my cheek or her kisses on my lips. Instead, there is a headstone marking the place that my daughter's body lays. A cold, hard, granite-pink headstone. It's not right. It's just not right.

And the days tick by. Each one bringing me farther from her, yet bringing me closer to her. As Mark said this past summer, "Each day I live gets me that much closer to the day I die and the day I see her again." That's how I feel, too ... farther from the days that she lived, closer to seeing her in Eternity. Bittersweet. So, bittersweet. And unfair. Just so darn unfair. Nothing about it right, fair, happy, or fun. Just desolation. Just quietness. Just wind in your face as you stand at the cemetary.

Did I hear her in the wind? Do I feel her? Or am I just wanting to? Am I imagining it because I want it so badly? Am I going crazy? "WHERE ARE YOU?!?!" my insides scream even though I know where she's at. You turn around, you wave your hands, you just want it to go away. Yet, it will follow you where ever you go. The hauntingness of it can creep into your thoughts at any time. The loneliness of it fills you even though the room is full of people. It's an unknown world that can't be shared. You wouldn't want it even if it could be.

Death. So quiet. So final. So empty. I can hardly wait to see her again. Someday. Eventually. Jesus come quickly.

Specific Prayers:
~That we feel God when we feel nothing else.

CANCER SUCKS!!!

Monday, January 7, 2008 9:25 AM CST

No one is immune to loss and the resulting dynamics of grief. We are all in this life circle of life and death and we all experience loss. Therefore, grief is an experience we all share. Yet, seldom do we talk about it, or try to find a definition for it until we are in the midst of it--a time filled with pain and confusion.

I don't think it's possible to find one definition of grief when there are so many variations on the theme. As uniquely different as the experience of grief can be, all grief shares some common themes. The hurt, the loss of identity, the disbelief, the physical, emotional and spiritual symptoms, as well as the time it takes to "heal", are part of all grief.

We've all heard the terms like "stages" or "tasks" or "adapting" when the so-called "experts" have tried to define grief. Regardless of the words they use, everyone seems to agree that grief is a process, one that takes time and has no rules. Clearly, no one can grieve and find their life unchanged.

As we go through life growing, learning and changing, we are constantly shifting and strengthening our personal definition. That's an expected part of life. It reflects a sense of control and purpose. Grief, on the other hand, is a forced redefinition of self. It is a response to events that often seem out of control, without purpose, and frequently unexpected.

We want to believe there is some quick and easy cure for grief. After all, we live in a microwave society. If we don't have time to cook, we slide something in the microwave, wait a few minutes, and dinner is served. So how long do we have to wait until the pain of grief goes away? Ten days? Two weeks? Six months? A year? Wouldn't it be nice if we could find a way to microwave grief away. As we all know, it doesn't work that way. Quite simply, grief takes as long as it takes. Tomorrow is the seventh month anniversary of Rachel's death. We are nowhere near the end of grief. Not even close. No, not even close.

We all hear that the first year is the worst. It's difficult because you have to find ways to survive each of the "firsts." And it takes a full year to get through all of them--the first birthday, the first Christmas, the first anniversary. The first Fourth of July, the first Mother's Day, the first Thanksgiving. Again and again we are faced with yet another first. But the second year is hard, too, we hear. The pain doesn't vanish on day 366.

I don't think you ever truly "heal". I think "healing" becomes more about learning to incorporate the grief into our lives. Life has a new normal. It's like having a physical wound, a cut that will heal but will always leave a scar. The process of grief seems like a maze. It seems like there are many ways in, but the way out is well hidden and difficult to reach.

Holding on to hope seems to be the challenge in all grief. Finding the courage or energy to go on day after day means looking to the Lord for strength and healing, for hope in the future. Some days it requires all of our energy just to maintain our own lives. On other days, it may seem that a little light is breaking through the cloud of grief that covers our lives--little glimmers of hope that "in all things God works for the good of those who love him" (Romans 8:28). The path is seldom clear. But somehow, some way, someday, we will see and know that the wound is healing. In the end, hope will not disappoint us.

"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." (Romans 5:1-5)

Specific Prayers:
~That the cloud of grief continue to lift higher.
~That the promise of hope be foremost in our hearts.

CANCER SUCKS!!!

Tuesday, January 1, 2008 10:46 AM CST

It's 2008. Can one even dare wish for a stable year? A year without rollarcoaster hills and valleys? A year without teeter-tottering up and down? A year of status-quo? If I dare, I wish for it. The last ten years, and especially the past five, have had plenty of action in them. I'm tired of action. I want peace ... tranquility ... rest. I want no dynamics. No crescendos. I want to know that my family will just be. No more and no less. Sadly, even that is a large request.

We enter 2008 with heads hung low. We know that this year will continue to bring many firsts ... including her birthday and the anniversary of her death. It will also start with the seconds, which aren't a lot of fun either, so we hear. Hopefully we'll get closer to crawling out of the hole and back into the sunshine. Sunshine is nice. Sunshine it good. Yet, there are never any guarantees that the sun will shine. Heck, today is the first day I've seen the sunshine here since we've gotten back from Mexico. Drab, dreary, ugly weather reflecting the feelings inside. Often not even sunshine changes that.

2008. Huh. Wasn't the world supposed to end like decades ago??? Ha!!! Yet, here we are celebrating another year gone. We did what we always do on New Year's Eve ... spent it as a family. We played games, watched movies, lit off fireworks, and drank "champagne". Of course, Rachel's parents thought of her and how she'd be enjoying it. She always loved getting all of her winter clothes on to go outside and do sparklers and roman candles. She was always right by her daddy's side because he is the "keeper of the fireworks". She might be able to get one or two more than her brothers if she didn't traverse very far from him!

Another year gone. Another upcoming year to "fear", so to speak. Of course, we hit it head on and with all the ammunition we can muster at this point. And we walk forward. One foot in front of the other. Constantly moving forward if even by only inches. Forward ... and upward. Someday our heads may be held higher and our walk will be a little more bouncy. As of today, well, we're here and we're walking. It's enough. For now.

Specific Prayers:
~Thankfulness for bringing our family through the Advent season.
~That 2008 be uneventful, peaceful, and healing.

CANCER SUCKS!!!!!

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