I keep finding that things that I know are hitting me in new ways. I almost feel like truths that seem so elementary are suddenly quite profound in light of our current situation. Today I had one of those moments. I was reading in I Corinthians 15, and Paul is talking about the resurrection from the dead. Evidently some in the church were saying that there was no resurrection from the dead, and Paul points out that if this were the case that would translate into no hope beyond this life. This leads him to say in verse 19 "If we have hope in Christ in this life only, we are of all men most to be pitied." I found so much comfort in this! If all we as Christians had to hope in was going to be found in this life, then what reason would we have to go on whenever an inevitable tragedgy hits? If this life was it, then the loss of Poppy would be unbearable. The finality and senselessness would be maddening, and I honestly cannot imagine continuing to go on, let alone gone on with any semblance of joy. But the wondeful truth is that Jesus did rise from the dead, and everyone who is His will never really experience death. I can't imagine living one day without the hope that gives me.
Seeing Poppy leave this earth and go to be with Jesus and experience the reality of hope I have in my heart will be the hardest thing I have ever endured. Even knowing that she will be perfect and whole will not erase my own pain over her loss. But the point is, that even though I will inevitably experience the greatest personal grief of my life, my grief will not be for her! If I had any grief on her behalf, I think my sorrow would be crippling. But as it is, I know that I can have "joy through my teardrops," as my mom has written in a beautiful poem, because I know that the reality of Jesus' death and resurrection gives me hope for everyday inspite of circumstances. This is why I can praise Him in the storm.
Thank you so much for your continued prayers and support! I've realized that I will never get tired of hearing someone tell me they are praying for me because I've come know the reality of the difference it makes in my life. I never want to take one single person's prayers for granted, and I want you to know how deeply grateful we are to you.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
He gives and takes
This morning as I sit down to write, I find myself with the pendulum swinging right in between the two extremes of “The Lord gives, and the Lord takes…” Last night Jesus chose to take Copeland home to be with him after eight days on this earth. She is whole, and perfect, and most of all, she is with Jesus, but there is still a loss. We didn’t get to meet her personally, be we felt such a connection with the precious little baby who must be so much like little Poppy. Last night as Nathan and I went to bed, we didn’t really have words, so we just went to sleep with tears in our eyes. Then, as I woke in the middle of the night (as I do several times every night, and the instances are becoming more frequent the bigger I get!), I realized that for the first time in days, I didn’t need to pray that God give Copeland the strength to breathe. Instead, I felt God lay on my heart to pray for my dearest friend in the world who is going in today to have her second baby.
And so this morning I find myself with a jumble of sorrow, joy, and bittersweet emotions. I will be heading off in just a little bit to wait at the hospital for Lily Grace to arrive, and I cannot wait to see her and hold and rejoice in her health and life. At the same time, today will be a sad reminder of what is not to be. Julie and I had our first two babies six months apart, and now they are best friends (the picture is of the two of them on vacation this summer in CO). It has been so wonderful to watch them grow up together, and when we found out that we were again having babies, this time just a bit over two months apart, I looked forward to the second set of “best friends” that would inevitably follow. The fact that that is not to be breaks my heart. I wish I could tell Lily today that she will get to meet her friend very soon, but I can’t.
However, even though I have already shed some tears today and no doubt will have more before it’s over, I think I will look back on today and remember happiness. Jesus is so good. He reminds me in more ways than I can count every day. He owes me nothing. I deserve nothing. Yet, He loves me so much and shows me in an amazing variety of ways. Today He will show me through the gift of Lily. I can say with new meaning today, “The Lord gives. The Lord takes. Blessed be His name forever.”
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
A Pick-Me-Up
I wanted to sit down and take a quick moment to share what’s on my heart. Today has actually been a little more difficult than most have been recently. I’ve just found it easier to be down than up, I guess you could say. Someone commented on an old post that they envisioned where Nathan and I are this point as being similar to standing in line for the high dive and thinking, “We’re next” as we watch our precious friends go through each day with their new baby. When I read that, I felt that in a way, that’s exactly how I feel (especially since I’ve always been terrified of the high dive!). Watching others experience the reality of trisomy 18 has created a jumble of emotions for me. In one sense, I’m trying desperately to guard my heart against believing that what is happening with them will happen for us. I know that is simply unrealistic. If anything can be said for trisomy 18, it is that the condition is unpredictable. Our situation may end up bearing very few similarities, or it may follow a fairly similar path. I just can’t know. So, in one way I am trying to keep it in perspective. On the other hand, I realize that no matter how things unfold, the same kinds of joys and hurts are going to be involved. I’ve witnessed God’s faithfulness to them, and it has encouraged me. And yet today, I realized that everything has started to take a toll on me emotionally.
I was just sitting down to do some work, when I came across a set of verses that I feel like God wanted me to see. As you read them, you’ll notice a common theme.
Colossians 3:15
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.
Philippians 4:7
And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
John 14:27
Peace, I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world gives, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
Isaiah 26:3
Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee; because he trusts in thee.
The statement Papa had written after these verses was “This peace is not the absence of problems, but the addition of power.” I love that! These verses aren’t telling me that everything will be smooth sailing… rather they are saying that in the midst of the hard times, Jesus has given us His peace which is supernatural and beyond anything that makes earthly sense. I love God’s word because it is so relevant. It speaks to me exactly where I am. Today I was down, but Jesus met me where I was and lifted me up.
I was just sitting down to do some work, when I came across a set of verses that I feel like God wanted me to see. As you read them, you’ll notice a common theme.
Colossians 3:15
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.
Philippians 4:7
And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
John 14:27
Peace, I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world gives, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
Isaiah 26:3
Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee; because he trusts in thee.
The statement Papa had written after these verses was “This peace is not the absence of problems, but the addition of power.” I love that! These verses aren’t telling me that everything will be smooth sailing… rather they are saying that in the midst of the hard times, Jesus has given us His peace which is supernatural and beyond anything that makes earthly sense. I love God’s word because it is so relevant. It speaks to me exactly where I am. Today I was down, but Jesus met me where I was and lifted me up.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Adjusting My Lenses
Yesterday I had the opportunity to talk to someone who has been down the trisomy 18 road several years ago. As she was sharing her story, she told me that she had immediately realized that in order to get through this, it became absolutely vital that head knowledge become something much more real. How true that has been for me! Things that I have believed in my head up to this point now have to be swallowed and embraced much deeper inside of me. For example, it struck me the other night as we sang “Wherever He Leads I’ll Go” that that beautiful hymn has new meaning when I sing it than it ever has before. I believe that in the past there have been times when I have truly tried to think about those words and pray in my heart “Yes, Jesus, please help me to be willing to follow You wherever you lead, whether it is a path I want or something that I don’t.” The only thing is, until this point in my adult life, He hasn’t led me down a path that had more than a few pebbles to clutter the road—maybe a small rock or two at most—but certainly no boulders! Now when I sing those words, I know that I mean them. I know in a much deeper way that I can trust God to take care of me, even when the path He has led me to is much darker than I would have ever expected.
So, in many ways, it has been great to be able to take the truths I have known and actually experience them in a way that I’ve never had opportunity to do before. But, there is one area in particular that I feel like I’m really struggling to grasp and comprehend: Eternity. I remember at many instances in my life, from the time I was a little girl on up, trying to truly get my mind around the concept of heaven going on forever. Each time I have tried to grasp the idea of eternity, my mind falls so short that it almost leaves me with a feeling of terror. Not because I am scared of heaven, but because I am scared that I cannot comprehend in my mind what eternity really is. I can only see things as I see them here within the framework of time. My inadequacy to be able to grasp how temporal this life is makes me more afraid of the “bad” things that happen to me while I’m here. I’m frustrated because I know that if I could truly get it, if I could see time and circumstances as God sees them, then I would know with everything in me how the word “short” doesn’t even begin to describe the amount of time God has given me here. He asks us to live by faith for a fraction of time that cannot even be measured in the light of eternity.
Yet, I feel like even though I know that in my head, I can’t make myself believe it in my heart with a certainty that makes our current reality seem small in comparison. There is a song that says,
“Turn you eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.”
This is one of my prayers right now. I want God to reveal to me in a new way how the sorrows of this earth, while very real, are very, very short! If I can just see things through different lenses, then I think the reality of the pain and separation will not seem as overwhelming. Philippians 3 ends with a couple of verses I’ve really tried to absorb into my heart and mind. They say “For our citizenship is in heaven, from which also we eagerly wait for a savior, the Lord Jesus Christ; who will transform the body of our humble state into conformity with the body of His glory…” With everything in me, I want to get this. I want to be able to glimpse my life with eyes focused on eternity.
So, in many ways, it has been great to be able to take the truths I have known and actually experience them in a way that I’ve never had opportunity to do before. But, there is one area in particular that I feel like I’m really struggling to grasp and comprehend: Eternity. I remember at many instances in my life, from the time I was a little girl on up, trying to truly get my mind around the concept of heaven going on forever. Each time I have tried to grasp the idea of eternity, my mind falls so short that it almost leaves me with a feeling of terror. Not because I am scared of heaven, but because I am scared that I cannot comprehend in my mind what eternity really is. I can only see things as I see them here within the framework of time. My inadequacy to be able to grasp how temporal this life is makes me more afraid of the “bad” things that happen to me while I’m here. I’m frustrated because I know that if I could truly get it, if I could see time and circumstances as God sees them, then I would know with everything in me how the word “short” doesn’t even begin to describe the amount of time God has given me here. He asks us to live by faith for a fraction of time that cannot even be measured in the light of eternity.
Yet, I feel like even though I know that in my head, I can’t make myself believe it in my heart with a certainty that makes our current reality seem small in comparison. There is a song that says,
“Turn you eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.”
This is one of my prayers right now. I want God to reveal to me in a new way how the sorrows of this earth, while very real, are very, very short! If I can just see things through different lenses, then I think the reality of the pain and separation will not seem as overwhelming. Philippians 3 ends with a couple of verses I’ve really tried to absorb into my heart and mind. They say “For our citizenship is in heaven, from which also we eagerly wait for a savior, the Lord Jesus Christ; who will transform the body of our humble state into conformity with the body of His glory…” With everything in me, I want to get this. I want to be able to glimpse my life with eyes focused on eternity.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Edge of Eternity
This morning I read from Psalms 95:1-2 which says,
“O come, let us sing for joy to the Lord,
Let us shout joyfully to the rock of our salvation.
Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving,
Let us shout joyfully to Him with psalms.”
In light of Copeland’s miraculous birth yesterday, I am singing these words with all my heart. For those who have not checked the Farley’s webpage, I will give you a quick update. Copeland was born yesterday at 1pm breathing on her own! She is 4lbs and 17 inches, and she is going to be eating with feeding tubes for now. Praise Jesus!
For Nathan and me, this time surrounding Copeland’s birth has brought the reality of our situation a little closer to home. Poppy’s birth has seemed so distant up until now that it has been hard to think through the concrete realities surrounding it. However, as we have thought and prayed for the Farley’s, we have run a million scenarios through our minds and tried to literally imagine ourselves 10 weeks down the road when we also will be in the same spot. To be honest, it is quite daunting right now. I know that God will carry us when we get there, and seeing His faithfulness in the lives of the Farley’s yesterday is a beautiful confirmation of this to me. Yet, the unknowns are so stark. Right now I feel like I am in this constant tug-of-war between feeling so confident that God is in control and has a purpose in all of this that is mighty and amazing, and at the same time, feeling the insecurity of simply not knowing what will happen. The questions that poured through my mind yesterday never ended and they won’t have any answers until the time actually comes.
As I was thinking about all of this, a phrase came to my mind that I hadn’t thought about in years. When I was in high school, my grandfather preached a sermon series entitled “The Edge of Eternity” about living in the end times. His point was that Jesus might return at any moment, and so we as Christians are literally walking on the edge of eternity since at any second, we might suddenly find ourselves with our Savior. He was encouraging the body of Christ not to live in such a way as to assume that things must happen before Jesus can come. Instead, we ought to be living with the reality that any moment could be the one He comes, so we ought to be eagerly waiting and anticipating His return.
I know that the connection between the second coming of Jesus and Poppy’s life might seem a bit hard to follow, but yesterday when those words “the edge of eternity” entered my brain, I felt the full impact barrel into me. Every day, from today until December 10 and beyond, this is the “edge” we’ll be walking with Poppy. No moments are promised, and each one could be the last, but that doesn’t mean we live in fear as we anticipate the future! As this statement relates to Christians, it meant that we are to live in complete awareness so that we do not become lazy or apathetic to the world around us. I think the same is true for us in a sense. We need to be in a state of constant awareness of the fact that each moment of Poppy’s life is in God’s hands. Just as God knows the second Jesus will return, He also knows the timeline He has for Poppy on this earth. Not knowing is still hard, but I pray that you will join with me in remaining vigilant to lift her up to Jesus over the next 10 weeks and beyond, trusting Him to keep her until His perfect timing has come to take her home.
“O come, let us sing for joy to the Lord,
Let us shout joyfully to the rock of our salvation.
Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving,
Let us shout joyfully to Him with psalms.”
In light of Copeland’s miraculous birth yesterday, I am singing these words with all my heart. For those who have not checked the Farley’s webpage, I will give you a quick update. Copeland was born yesterday at 1pm breathing on her own! She is 4lbs and 17 inches, and she is going to be eating with feeding tubes for now. Praise Jesus!
For Nathan and me, this time surrounding Copeland’s birth has brought the reality of our situation a little closer to home. Poppy’s birth has seemed so distant up until now that it has been hard to think through the concrete realities surrounding it. However, as we have thought and prayed for the Farley’s, we have run a million scenarios through our minds and tried to literally imagine ourselves 10 weeks down the road when we also will be in the same spot. To be honest, it is quite daunting right now. I know that God will carry us when we get there, and seeing His faithfulness in the lives of the Farley’s yesterday is a beautiful confirmation of this to me. Yet, the unknowns are so stark. Right now I feel like I am in this constant tug-of-war between feeling so confident that God is in control and has a purpose in all of this that is mighty and amazing, and at the same time, feeling the insecurity of simply not knowing what will happen. The questions that poured through my mind yesterday never ended and they won’t have any answers until the time actually comes.
As I was thinking about all of this, a phrase came to my mind that I hadn’t thought about in years. When I was in high school, my grandfather preached a sermon series entitled “The Edge of Eternity” about living in the end times. His point was that Jesus might return at any moment, and so we as Christians are literally walking on the edge of eternity since at any second, we might suddenly find ourselves with our Savior. He was encouraging the body of Christ not to live in such a way as to assume that things must happen before Jesus can come. Instead, we ought to be living with the reality that any moment could be the one He comes, so we ought to be eagerly waiting and anticipating His return.
I know that the connection between the second coming of Jesus and Poppy’s life might seem a bit hard to follow, but yesterday when those words “the edge of eternity” entered my brain, I felt the full impact barrel into me. Every day, from today until December 10 and beyond, this is the “edge” we’ll be walking with Poppy. No moments are promised, and each one could be the last, but that doesn’t mean we live in fear as we anticipate the future! As this statement relates to Christians, it meant that we are to live in complete awareness so that we do not become lazy or apathetic to the world around us. I think the same is true for us in a sense. We need to be in a state of constant awareness of the fact that each moment of Poppy’s life is in God’s hands. Just as God knows the second Jesus will return, He also knows the timeline He has for Poppy on this earth. Not knowing is still hard, but I pray that you will join with me in remaining vigilant to lift her up to Jesus over the next 10 weeks and beyond, trusting Him to keep her until His perfect timing has come to take her home.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Copeland Farley
I know that many of you who read our thoughts and prayers here were directed to our site from a similar blog established for little Copeland Farley by her parents, Conor and Boothe. Others of you, no doubt, have visited their website by clicking the link on our blog. For those of you who haven't made it to the Farley's blog, I encourage you to click here and read it now.
Conor and Boothe live with their three-year-old daughter, Sellers, near Nashville, Tennessee, and are traveling this same road as Angie and me, although they are further along their journey. They learned some three months ago that their next daughter, Copeland, has Trisomy 18. Because of shared experiences, Angie and I have had the opportunity to get to know Conor and Boothe. God has used them mightily to minister to us and I have grown to love them dearly. I wanted to take a moment this morning to discuss the Farleys because they are headed to the hospital today to welcome precious Copeland into this world. I ask you to pray for them today and this week.
I've wondered through the past few weeks how to pray in my own life during this time and what my real needs are. How do we pray while we await on the eve of our darkest night? I know that the Spirit will intercede for me when I pray, but I yearn to pray with my own tongue the words that the Father will hear. I have thought a lot about Conor and Boothe and God has put a prayer in my heart that He has heard before and I believe He hears again when I pray. Our dear Savior, Jesus Himself, as He grieved in Gethsemane, was in His darkest hour. The most evil day that the world would ever know was just before Him and He prayed, "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me." He taught us that it is OK to ask for deliverance from our heaviest burdens, from our greatest pains. However, His prayer did not end there, for in the same breath He added, "Yet not as I will, but as You will." Jesus' ultimate focus remained on the wishes of the Father.
So, this is my prayer for Conor and Boothe, that God might deliver them from this terrible grief and heal their sweet, gentle baby. I know, though, that Conor and Boothe most desire for God to be glorified and that the greatest plan for their lives and for the life of Copeland, is the plan that the Father has already chosen, whatever that plan is. I further pray that God will provide Conor and Boothe with great strength and the absence of all fear. I encourage you again, just as you've so faithfully and generously prayed for Angie and me as we've watched the rain begin to fall, please pray for Conor and Boothe today as they face the raging flood.
Conor and Boothe live with their three-year-old daughter, Sellers, near Nashville, Tennessee, and are traveling this same road as Angie and me, although they are further along their journey. They learned some three months ago that their next daughter, Copeland, has Trisomy 18. Because of shared experiences, Angie and I have had the opportunity to get to know Conor and Boothe. God has used them mightily to minister to us and I have grown to love them dearly. I wanted to take a moment this morning to discuss the Farleys because they are headed to the hospital today to welcome precious Copeland into this world. I ask you to pray for them today and this week.
I've wondered through the past few weeks how to pray in my own life during this time and what my real needs are. How do we pray while we await on the eve of our darkest night? I know that the Spirit will intercede for me when I pray, but I yearn to pray with my own tongue the words that the Father will hear. I have thought a lot about Conor and Boothe and God has put a prayer in my heart that He has heard before and I believe He hears again when I pray. Our dear Savior, Jesus Himself, as He grieved in Gethsemane, was in His darkest hour. The most evil day that the world would ever know was just before Him and He prayed, "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me." He taught us that it is OK to ask for deliverance from our heaviest burdens, from our greatest pains. However, His prayer did not end there, for in the same breath He added, "Yet not as I will, but as You will." Jesus' ultimate focus remained on the wishes of the Father.
So, this is my prayer for Conor and Boothe, that God might deliver them from this terrible grief and heal their sweet, gentle baby. I know, though, that Conor and Boothe most desire for God to be glorified and that the greatest plan for their lives and for the life of Copeland, is the plan that the Father has already chosen, whatever that plan is. I further pray that God will provide Conor and Boothe with great strength and the absence of all fear. I encourage you again, just as you've so faithfully and generously prayed for Angie and me as we've watched the rain begin to fall, please pray for Conor and Boothe today as they face the raging flood.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Saturday
Today was a great day. College football wasn’t so great, but the day itself seemed almost perfect. I spent time with Nathan and Marianna, both sets of family, and some of our closest friends. Poppy moved and kicked all day long and reminded me that she is still strong, and the weather was the best we’ve had in probably four months. I felt so alive and so completely at peace with life. I am grateful for days like this because I know they will not always seem so idyllic, so I want to just take it and enjoy it for the gift it is.
The strange thing about today is that I never once felt like I forgot about everything that is going on or that I had switched over to denial mode. Rather, I felt that there was something about my new understanding of sorrow (not just my own, but on a universal level as well) that made a day like today seem all the richer. It’s like even the small things (a visit to Starbucks, Saturday mornings in bed with Nathan and Marianna, and watching football) are more enjoyable than they have ever been before simply because I don’t take them for granted as much as I used to. I know now in my heart and not just my head that life is filled with terrible hurts and unavoidable difficulties, but at the same time, I know that life is also filled with beauty and love and fun. Sometimes there is no overlap between the two and life seems filled with one or the other. But, I think far more often life will be filled with moments like today, where the two extremes crossover and intermingle and become so interwoven that they are hard to separate.
My life is so full, and the news about Poppy has not detracted from that. Rather, it has opened me up in a new way. I know God did not send her to us to teach me lessons (I feel that would be a rather self-consumed to assume that God would create a life simply to “teach” me anything) but at the same time, I would be a fool to remain unchanged. It seems paradoxical, but I feel with all my heart that I hate what is happening with everything in me, and at the same time I am so grateful for it because I am seeing myself, my priorities, and my world in a new light. I know there is a personal depth that can be born only from sorrow, and it is something I feel I will never regret. I am also thankful that God has allowed me a part in something that will inevitably bring Him glory. In it’s own strange way, I know it is a privilege.
So, today was nothing out of the ordinary, but it was certainly special. Life isn’t a bed of roses or a box of chocolate, but it is good. The hard part is still to come, but I don’t think that it’s right to let the shadow of the future dim the brightness of today. I am so grateful for each one of you who have somehow come to read this page and have felt led to pray for us. I want you to know that tonight I am praying for you and asking that God bless your life in a new and fresh way. I know He will indeed bless you for the blessing you have already been to Nathan, Marianna, Poppy, and me. Good Night!
The strange thing about today is that I never once felt like I forgot about everything that is going on or that I had switched over to denial mode. Rather, I felt that there was something about my new understanding of sorrow (not just my own, but on a universal level as well) that made a day like today seem all the richer. It’s like even the small things (a visit to Starbucks, Saturday mornings in bed with Nathan and Marianna, and watching football) are more enjoyable than they have ever been before simply because I don’t take them for granted as much as I used to. I know now in my heart and not just my head that life is filled with terrible hurts and unavoidable difficulties, but at the same time, I know that life is also filled with beauty and love and fun. Sometimes there is no overlap between the two and life seems filled with one or the other. But, I think far more often life will be filled with moments like today, where the two extremes crossover and intermingle and become so interwoven that they are hard to separate.
My life is so full, and the news about Poppy has not detracted from that. Rather, it has opened me up in a new way. I know God did not send her to us to teach me lessons (I feel that would be a rather self-consumed to assume that God would create a life simply to “teach” me anything) but at the same time, I would be a fool to remain unchanged. It seems paradoxical, but I feel with all my heart that I hate what is happening with everything in me, and at the same time I am so grateful for it because I am seeing myself, my priorities, and my world in a new light. I know there is a personal depth that can be born only from sorrow, and it is something I feel I will never regret. I am also thankful that God has allowed me a part in something that will inevitably bring Him glory. In it’s own strange way, I know it is a privilege.
So, today was nothing out of the ordinary, but it was certainly special. Life isn’t a bed of roses or a box of chocolate, but it is good. The hard part is still to come, but I don’t think that it’s right to let the shadow of the future dim the brightness of today. I am so grateful for each one of you who have somehow come to read this page and have felt led to pray for us. I want you to know that tonight I am praying for you and asking that God bless your life in a new and fresh way. I know He will indeed bless you for the blessing you have already been to Nathan, Marianna, Poppy, and me. Good Night!
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