Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Cousin Love


For Gracie - From her loving cousin, Emily

Do you see that precious little girl in the background of my picture frame?  The little peanut in Paul's arms on our wedding day is Gracie's sweet cousin, Emily.  The words engraved on the frame says, "The Ones You Love."  What a perfect frame to describe how I feel about those two! The smile that radiates off both their faces warms my heart!

Emily is the second youngest niece/nephew I have on my side of the family.  Out of all the other kids, Emily has had the most compassionate heart for her cousin.  When I was pregnant with Grace and my family would get together, Emily would always run up to me, say hello to her cousin, and give her a hug before she did anything else.  I will never forget her sweet smile and her gentle touch.  My five (soon to be six) year old  niece made Grace feel the most apart of our family and she embraced her with open arms.  It broke my heart that the one person who probably wanted to see Grace the most, couldn't see her on her birthday.  But I know my Grace had to of felt Emily's tender love the entire time she was inside me!

One Sunday in April, Paul and I had joined my brother and his two children (Emily and Owen) over at my parents house for dinner.  It was unlike most Sunday's because my sister-in-law was working and my other brother and his family had decided not to join us.  We sat in the living room playing with the kids and chatted with one another.  After playing on the floor, I got up and commented on my swelling feet. They sure were an interesting sight to see. Our receptive Emily, went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of lotion and began to give me a foot message!  Bless her heart, she smiled the entire time. After she was done, I took some lotion and rubbed it on my tummy.  Emily decided that she wanted help me out and began gently rubbing the lotion.  In the process, her little nail scratched me a bit and I showed her how her scratch made a letter with the lotion.  So, she added more lotion to my stomach and began writing Grace's name and used my  belly button to draw a heart. <3 I think she just about used my mom's entire bottle of lotion because she continued to play with Grace for a very long time.  It melted my heart when Grace would move and Emily felt her.  Emily's expression on her face is forever etched in my soul.

After State Fair one evening, my brother and his family stopped over to pick up their car.  I invited them in and immediately Emily began noticing all of the things I have put up in memory of Grace.  She walked into my bedroom and said, "Auntie Jessie, you have Grace's blanket (her quilt Kara made) on your bed."  It completely shocked me that she knew that because I only showed it to people at the hospital... and Emily wasn't there.  We made our way upstairs and I showed her the large bin of everything I've ever received associated to Grace.  I even have my positive pregnancy test with Grace's name written on it in green permanent marker! I am THAT sentimental.  Emily was mesmerized by everything in the bin and continued to ask questions and dig through Grace's things.  My brother and sister-in-law literally had to pry her away from it.

Emily is wise beyond her age.  She gets what to say/do to a "loss mama" even though she's going only on six and doesn't understand what exactly she's doing.  She talks about Grace, inquires about her, draws her pictures, gets her teddy bears, and doesn't hold back her thoughts.  And boy, do I love that about her!  Emily is one person who shows this world that Grace is real and she doesn't tip toe around my feelings.  I'm sure she probably doesn't even think twice about that because she loves her cousin, and that's all that matters.

I consider myself blessed to have been given this opportunity to bond with her through this experience, even if it came at the expense of loosing my little girl.  She has taught me more about loving someone in the past couple of months than I have learned my entire life. She truly is a gift from God and I feel so honored to be called her Auntie.  If you ever get the chance to meet this little peanut, you'd fully understand how blessed I am.  She is spunky, comical, tenderhearted, and the best dressed little diva around.

And guess what?  I'm super excited because Paul and I get to have a slumber party with her at our house this weekend!!! =) 
Lovin' on our beautiful Em!

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Letting Go

I'm scared...dare I say that?

I feel like when I truly admit how I'm feeling, I get the tsk tsk, you're not giving it to God response. And I get that, because I've been on the receiving end of people pouring out their hearts to me. The neat thing about a blog is that I can just pour my heart and soul out without "hearing" your perspective.  My blog, in some fashion, is helping me with my grieving. Writing this way allows me to rationalize how I'm thinking/feeling without someone trying to "fix" my situation (as if you can really fix the death of my Gracie). 

Over the last month or so I've been struggling with what the next chapter in our lives may be.  I have that fear of "what if" beginning to settle into my thinking.  I know that fear only comes from one place directly...the devil.

After I miscarried in 2010, the fear of loss was suffocating.  I remember very vividly sitting in my friend Kara's car on a chilly day last October.  I sat there with tears in my eyes and explained to her that I was pregnant again.  The tears that surfaced that day weren't tears of joy, they were tears of fear.  At ten weeks pregnant, I saw my little miracle growing in size, but I felt God telling me to guard my heart.  I knew something just wasn't right and tried to explain my feelings to her. Besides wondering if I was going to find blood every time I went to the restroom, I feared that something was drastically wrong with my pregnancy.

After we found out about Grace's diagnosis that fear of "what if" wouldn't escape me. I worried if she'd pass in utero, if she'd be alive to take her home, if I'd build up to much fluid and cause me to go into pre-term labor etc.  The list of fears started to became endless. 

I'm scared of this "what if" fear that is surfacing.  I want to enjoy what is "supposed to be" one of the happiest times of my life.  But I feel that my heart has been so crushed, and as a result, has been very guarded.  After talking to a couple of friends that have suffered losses through miscarriage, they too are so cautious and have that "what if" fear lurking in the back of their minds.  It bothers me that some women who truly would like to be entrusted with children, go through so much heartache. Just know I'm praying for those of you that I speak of!    


I'm truly sick of wallowing in fear.  I'm tired, beat down, and ready to surrender. If I let these fears get the best of me and I let them consume my thinking, I'll miss the blessings that are right in front of my eyes.  After reading What Women Fear by Angie Smith, I'm reminded by the story of Hagar, Sarah, and Abraham from the Bible.  Sarah urged her husband, Abraham, to conceive a child with the maidservant Hagar because she wasn't able to become pregnant.  Sarah wanted to keep her husbands legacy alive even though God had given Abraham a promise that didn't include Hagar.  However, Sarah's plans didn't go the way she had anticipated.  She became pregnant with a child named Isaac and in turn became extremely jealous of Hagar since she bore her husband's first son.  During a feast for Isaac, Sarah's jealously got the best of her and she tells Abraham it's time for Hagar and Ishmael to hit the road. Hagar leaves with her son and they set out on a journey.  While they are walking, Hagar realizes that she doesn't have any food for her son.  Knowing that Ishmael was going to die, she placed him in a bush and stepped away.  Hagar closed her eyes as she was unable to witness the death of her only son.  God hears Ishmael's cries and an angel of the Lord spoke to her by asking what is the matter.  The angel goes on to tell her not to be afraid and that the Lord has heard his cries.  He allowed Hagar a glimpse of her son's future and opens her eyes so that she is able to see a well of water to bring her son back to life.


I love reflecting back on this story because I have seen a glimpse of Sarah and Hagar in my own life.  In the past, when things didn't seem to go right in my life, I would try to take matters into my own hands - much like Sarah.  If only they could have trusted and listened to God's promise, the drama with Hagar would have never surfaced.  And poor Hagar...she was kicked to the curb and was so engrossed by the fear of loosing her son that she didn't even see the well beside her.  I'm finding that I'm so wrapped up in the fear of never getting pregnant with a healthy baby that I'm missing all the blessings beside me.  I'm so focused on what is missing in my life rather than what I have. 


I truly don't want to walk through this life with my eyes closed.  I'm asking the Lord to illuminate what He wants me to see and not to dwell on what I don't have.  I'm praying that I'm able to drink deep in the faithfulness of God in hopes that next time I face insurmountable (that's for you Kara) odds, that I will NOT cower in fear.   I want to keep my eyes, my heart, and my desires open to what His will is for my life. And lastly, I pray that my days are filled with gratitude as He can turn the unlikely into the obvious! 


If you are a prayer warrior out there, I am asking for you to be in prayer with me. I know first hand that the power of prayer is amazing.  The God of Hagar heard her son's cries and He hears our cries as well!


I'm ready to let go of these fears and surrender them ALL to Him!

Saturday, August 18, 2012

I'm Dancing For You, Gracie


Grace,

 "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain."  Therefore, I'm dancing for you today and always, Gracie!  You danced gracefully in my tummy for nine beautiful months and I wouldn't change that for the world. I surely miss those days I was able to sway back and forth with you while you were moving away. Through the heartache, pain, and emptiness, I will keep on dancing with each drop of rain reminding me how blessed I am for the opportunity to be your mama.  No matter how long it rains, or pours for that matter, I'm reminded that I will see you again because of our loving Lord and Savior.  And when that happens, I want our dances to join - not in the rain, but in His glorious light.  We will dance for Him, little one.  You and I together, forever!  As each day passes, I'm one step closer to joining you in that dance.  I look forward to that day where I can twirl you in circles and tell you, face to face, how much I love you.  Until then, keep dancing for Him.  I love you, now and forever!  Happy 3 months, precious!

Love Always,
Mama

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Not Just A Teacher

Some days I wonder if I made the right decision by taking on an English as a Second Language teaching position.  I loved having my own classroom and the freedom/responsibility that came with it.  I also loved the bonds that grew from having my own group of kiddos to care for, love, and educate. 

Every year when school supplies started showing up in stores, a feeling of excitement overcame me.  I was that kid growing up that LOVED shopping for school supplies. It literally made me giddy, ask my mom. I'd sit for hours on the floor in our living room writing my name on everything and would rearrange my pencil box ten thousand times so everything was in its perfect place. That same excitement carried over when I became a teacher.  I spent hours at the teacher store buying new boarders, inspirational posters, teaching materials and games to support my curriculum.  Although Paul never liked seeing what I spent, it brought me so much joy knowing a new year was ahead of me. 

When last school year ended, I had a very difficult time taking down my word wall and all my other materials I had posted around the room.  I knew that room 221 would no longer be my room ever again.  Gosh, sometimes I hate that I'm so sentimental! I learned a lot about myself over the years in that room - not only as a teacher, but as a person.  Part of me feels like I'm leaving that all behind.

At the beginning of each year I always introduced myself to my kiddos (mind you I taught 7th grade English Language Arts). I tried to do this in a comical way by showing pictures and embarrassing myself.  I'd talk about my husband and get really sappy (which they seemed to enjoy) and show pictures/tell stories of my other family members.  One thing I always ask my students to do every year is guess how many children I have.  I always seem to receive an outrageous guess of twenty, or the very common response, "Mrs. Morris, you look like you're eighteen.  How could you possibly have children?"  I always laugh and thank them for the nice compliment. I go on to tell that that I have sixty-three (or how ever many students I have that year) children.  The looks on their faces are priceless.  I go on to explain to them that even though I don't have any children (prior to Grace) to take care and love at home, they have become my very own.  I talk to them about how much time we will spend together and how we will become one big family.  I make a promise to them that I will treat them and care for them like a mother would.  I tell them that I will be there to listen, to talk, to help, or whatever they may need throughout the year and the years to come.

As a teacher, I never know what sticks with my students or what has made an impact on their lives. I was reminded today that students truly listen and take notice to the words that come from my mouth.  A former student of mine was asked to participate in a student panel for our Hmong Culture professional development.  One of the questions that was asked to the panel was something along the lines of what teacher has made an impact on your life.  Surprisingly, this student said my name and gave a beautiful explanation as to why.  She commented on how I was more than a teacher to her class, I was a mother.  I listened to what they had to say and I was there for them when they needed someone.  She also stated how she remembered how I told her class (because they were complaining about my expectations for an assignment) that the teachers that push them the hardest will end up being their favorite teachers in the end.  At the time she didn't agree with that statement, but now, she couldn't agree more and I pushed her to always do her best.

She made my heart melt and made me think about the impact that teachers can make in a child's life.  When she said I'm like their mother, it hit me in such a profound way.  Hearing the word "mother" takes on a whole new meaning since I've had Grace.  I won't ever get the opportunity to nurture and care for her here.  I won't get to listen how her day went, hear what she learned at school, or provide her with wisdom and knowledge to help her overcome a trial.  But that doesn't mean I'm any less of a mother.  I carried her for those wonderful nine months that her heart beat, cared for her in my womb, and loved her (and still am loving her) every single minute of her existence.  My love for her runs deep and I long for the day that I get to hear her say, "Mama." 

This school year, in honor of my Gracie, I'm going to love on those kiddos like I've never loved before. I will be more than a teacher.  I will have an open heart and ears to show them that they are cared for.  And with that love will come high expectations.  I will push them harder than I've ever pushed because their futures matter.  I don't need to have my own room to show my middle school students that I love them... like a mother.

And guess what....?

I have 211 children to be a teacher and mother to this year!

I can only imagine the look on their faces telling them I have that amount of children! =)


Due to legal issues, I cannot post pictures of my kiddos.  So you're stuck with me.  Here is a picture at our Hmong New Year in their traditional clothing. 



Visit http://www.myhapa.org/ to view my beautiful Hmong children! 

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

My New "Normal"

Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family’s life.

Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind.

Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.

Normal is staring at every baby who looks like she is my baby’s age. And then thinking of the age she would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.

Normal is telling the story of your child’s death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone’s eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my “normal”.

Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child’s memory and her birthday and survive these days.

Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special that my baby would have loved, but how she is not here to enjoy it.

Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.

Normal is making sure that others remember her.

Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.

Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.

Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you – it doesn’t compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.

Normal is trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.

Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.

Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.

Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.

Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have three children or two, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have two children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.

Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.

And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become “normal” for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are “normal.”

-Author Unknown

Friday, August 10, 2012

God's Perfection

I've had many people ask to see pictures of Grace.  It just warms my heart when anyone wants to see her.  And it truly brings me so much joy to have others ask about her.  I'm sure most parents can relate.  I'm proud of her and to be her mama. But I have to say that I've built up a pretty thick wall when it comes to protecting my Gracie.

Prior to having her, I read up on so much literature dealing with Anencephaly.  The cruel comments that surfaced about these babies broke my heart.  Someone even had the audacity to say these babies looked like "monsters."  Many poked fun about their eyes and how they look "frogish" and it just crushed me. I did not want this to be said about my girl or anyone's child for that matter.  It's been a fear of mine since the moment I found out her diagnosis that others may not view her the way God would.  I feared that by me posting pictures, others would cringe or talk badly about Grace.

I've done a tremendous amount of praying about my feelings and I've even questioned why these feelings  existed.  Besides my family (parents, brothers, sister-in-laws, aunts) our Pastor, Kelly, and my dear friend Kara, no one else saw Gracie up close at the hospital.  Not to sound rude, but Paul and I didn't want many people visiting us. I heard how taxing labor and delivery can be and I didn't want to have to explain her birth story when it was so fresh in my mind.  And honestly, I didn't want people to view my girl not alive.  It crushed me.  I was however, very thankful to those that tried to come to see us.  It showed they cared about our well-being and it made us feel unbelievably loved.

I was sharing my feelings about posting a picture of Grace on Facebook with two of my co-workers/friends the other day at school.  Mollie reminded me that if people truly loved Grace, negative comments wouldn't exist - they'd see His perfect creation in her. Amen! The truth and wisdom that pours out of her is a breath of fresh air!

Through the last couple of months grappling with this, I've realized that God's grace is etched in her features. His perfection reminds me of all the goodness that comes from His creation.  When I look at the only pictures I will ever have of my first born, I see a glimpse of God.  I touched her.  I kissed her. I rocked her.  This journey started with God and will continue with Him.  Plain and simple.  Grace is a blessing to me and that is what makes me proud.  And with that comes the territory of being able to show her off,  to talk about her, and not shy away because of what others may say or think. 

I have appreciated all the wonderful comments I have received thus far about my sweet Grace.  She is beautiful, isn't she?  However, I am well aware that there is the possibility of people making comments about her behind my back.  And if that is the case, then they are choosing not to see His goodness and perfection at work.

I already see Grace as being whole and complete in Him. I see Grace wrapped in God's glory and in her Savior's sweet embrace.  She is with the angels, surrounding the throne.  And if she can't be here with me, there is no where else I would rather her be. 

To honor my daughter today, twelve Fridays after her birth, please watch the video that was so graciously created by Kelly at Illustrations Photography at the address below.  You many have to enter the password: Morris upon viewing the video. Turn on your speakers.  There is a song that plays.  Ironically enough, it's called, "How Beautiful." God's work and grace at it's finest!




Grace,
I wish I could tell you, Gracie, just one more time how much I love you.  Oh, I just can't wait to see you! It's Friday...again. I woke up and smiled because of you! I'm trying this "new thing" where I think of the positives in a situation instead of the negatives.  So today, I'm reminded how wonderful it was to be able to hold you in my arms for those two hours and seven minutes.  I loved that I got to hear some of your little voice while you were here.  Because my dear, you didn't cry when you entered this word, like most babies. I tell everyone what a little fighter you were, and it makes me smile every time because it is so true!  God gave me the strength to carry you and provided you the strength to endure your birth and to live for a glorious two hours. You sure are one tough cookie. Praise be to Him!  

Your daddy took off work today.  He is going to spend the afternoon with me because I go back to work next Monday. Where did this summer go? I think I say that every year! We are going to go on a bike ride and are headed to State Fair with Grandpa and Grandma.  I will eat a cream puff..or two for you!  =) I only wish you were able to join us...I'd give anything for that! 

I am always reminded by your little feet of Romans 10:15. Thank you, little one, for helping to strengthen my faith and to trust in our Lord with my entire heart.  It brings me to tears as I write to you.  Tears of joy!  I love you, my girl!

In Him,
Mama

Every good and perfect gift comes from above (James 1:17).

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Beautiful Things

I never knew one single song could hold so much meaning in my life.  I guess I never took time to truly listen to the lyrics of "Beautiful Things" and reflect on what they mean to me until yesterday.  Paul ran into Home Depot for one thing and came out with twenty.  I couldn't help but smile when I saw his cart because it reminded me of how I am in Target.  I run in for a stick of deodorant and come out with a hundred dollars worth of stuff.   I'm glad he took as long as he did. I needed time to cry by myself without him thinking that I'm not letting go of Grace. I think he always associates my crying as a "bad thing," when in reality they are mostly tears of joy.  I'm so thankful for Grace and how God has opened my eyes to see true beauty, beauty that only He has created. 

"Beautiful Things"

All this pain
I wonder if I’ll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all


You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

(Chorus)
(Chorus)

You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new

(Chorus)
Pain doesn't quiet describe the feelings I felt on that chilly day in December.  All my hopes and dreams came crashing down when both doctors said that Anencephaly is a fatal condition and these babies don't survive. With a box of tissues in my hand, puffy red eyes, and a hole in my heart, I knew walking out of the hospital that this journey would be filled with a variety of emotions. As the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, I felt that hole becoming bigger and bigger. Maybe I had hoped for more out of certain people in my family than I should have.  I was often reminded that some people just don't know what to say or do and so they avoid any interaction altogether.  But that only made the pain all the more real and that hole continue to grow larger.

Looking back, I don't feel that I had expectations of people specifically.  But sometimes I felt I expected more out of certain people because I'd be willing to do that much for them. Ironically enough, the people I didn't expect anything from were the ones that carried my burden and walked along side of me the most. I prayed and asked others to pray for my hard heart that I was developing.  I prayed that these feelings wouldn't cause bitterness and resent the relationships that crushed me during that time. I thanked Him repeatedly for those people who showed me what it meant to walk with someone when they didn't know what to say or do either.

In the end, I've come to see the beauty and realize that not everyone is going to know what you need in life and therefore won't fill your love tank.  The people that hurt me the most didn't know that I just wanted them to pick up the phone or send a text message and ask me how I was doing.  I didn't expect people to move mountains for me, buy me anything, or go out of their way.  I just wanted to feel loved in my hardest time of my life.

The beautiful thing that came up from this is that I've learned what it means (to some extent) how to be selfless. Family, friends, and co-workers all around me taught me what it means to not only think of myself - to think beyond whatever it is I may be going through, and to reach out and serve someone else.  Isn't that what Jesus Christ did his entire life...served others?  Philippians 2:3 reminds me of this: Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves. This life isn't about me, as much as I'd like to think it is... and it isn't about you either (sorry to burst your bubble).

While listening to this song I was reminded by the chorus that He makes beautiful things out of dust and out of us.  I could be interpreting this song all wrong, but after reading Genesis 3:19 it allowed me to see that both you and I were made from dust and as dust we will return.  Grace was created just as you and I were.  I know that God does not make mistakes.  And He surely didn't make a mistake by not allowing Grace's brain to develop.  Even though the world may not view her as being beautiful, she sure is to me.  He created her, how could she not be?  The beautiful thing about God's heart is that He is ravished by us.  We make Him smile, laugh, sing, and leap for joy (Zephaniah 3:17).  We make His heart beat faster and our faces make Him grin.  He sees our hair, our skin, our freckles, and He rejoices (Enjoying God).  My Gracie is no different - He is ravished by her as well! 

This song states that He makes beautiful things out of us.  I firmly believe everyone created has a purpose, even if they never get to take a breath here on Earth.  I'm not sure what Grace's purpose is and honestly, I don't know what mine is either.  I'm praying and asking God to reveal this to me.  The beauty behind not knowing is that I am able to call out to Him all the more.  And I'm thankful for that opportunity to grow close and spend time with Him.

Because of the Jesus' death on the cross, we are made new.  Our sins are washed away because He gave up His life for you and I. When we are made new, a transformation occurs - a change in our heart, our minds, our speech, our actions etc. And the amazing thing is that this process does not stop.  He continues to make us new! If we believe in Jesus Christ, the old is gone and the new has come (2 Corinthians 5:17).

I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't want to change what happened to us.  I'd give anything to be holding her, rocking her to sleeping, and raising her to know she is a child of God.  But that wasn't His plan and I'm learning to be okay with that.  I'm also trying to understand that I'll never get to see here again until I am reunited with her in Heaven.  For the ransom that was paid for you and I, I am forever grateful.  Because... I will get to see her again!  

I'm learning that there is true beauty behind my journey.  

Beautiful things that can only be seen because of Him. 


Thursday, August 2, 2012

Living Out Your Dash

Tuesday was my Auntie's birthday.  When we gathered as a family this weekend, she seemed not so thrilled to be turning another year older.  Isn't that always the case?  I know I am just a young pup, turning 28 this year, but I had a REALLY hard time turning 26. I can sympathize to some degree.  Maybe it was because "my plan" (see:  Not in Control: Riding in the Passenger's Seat ) wasn't fully panning out the way I had hoped or the realization that 30 is right around the corner. Regardless, I know that turning another year older for most people means, more wrinkles, more this, and more that... I get all that "stuff" and don't want to negate that with what I'm about to write about.  My view on getting older has changed a bit since a sermon we had about living out your dash and giving birth to the most beautiful little girl who will never get to turn another year older here on Earth. That still won't stop me from celebrating her Heavenly birthdays though!  

During the sermon we had about two years ago, Pastor Terry began teaching us about what your dash meant.  Let's just say hypothetically that I pass away as I'm writing this.  On my tombstone (that I won't be having in real life) would read 12/18/1984 - (dash) 08/02/2012.  The dash refers to the years you have lived out your life.  Are you following?  I hope so... Have you ever thought deeply about what others may say about you and your life lived if they were going to give a eulogy at your funeral?  What do you want to be remember for and how do you want others to remember you when you pass on?  Pastor Terry showed us a poem written by Linda Ellis called "The Dash."  I'm not sure if this was the exact clip shown, but I remember sitting in my seat with tears pouring down my face...big reality check!  

As I was watching this in church, I realized that I was living a pretty me centered life.  My dash had really only consisted of meeting the goals that I had set for myself.  I thought, Is that really how I want to be remembered? Me, me, me, me?  I was reminded that our time spent here living out our dash  is noticed by others as "how" we live out those years.  Are we slow to anger, non judgmental, do we have servant hearts, do we treat others how we would want to be treated, are we quick to forgive, do we love with our whole heart and expect nothing in return...in other words, are we living out our lives as Jesus Christ would?

When I think about how I'm living my life, I always think of that song by the Sidewalk Prophets called Live Like That.  There is a lyric in that song that says, "When they see me, do they see You?" When I was pregnant with Grace, I wrote that on an index card and taped it to my laptop at school.  Every time I walked back to my desk, I always glanced at that index card as a helpful reminder.  It helped me to be constantly aware of my actions and the words I used in my classroom and to those around me. It allowed me to reflect on how I am living out my life on a daily basis.  I wanted others to see that I was striving to live like Him and that my actions and words reflected that. 

Linda Ellis stated in her poem, "You never know how much time you have."  She completely nailed that on the head. We don't know how much time we have...scary isn't it?  All of our days are numbered.  Grace's short life was numbered by hours, not days or years like you and I have been blessed with.  Although Grace beat us all to the BEST place in this universe, and I envy her for that, we should be thankful for each day that passes because it is one more day to serve someone in need, to smile, to laugh, to love...to live like Him. 

When another year comes your way, remember to slow down and appreciate the days that may lie ahead of you.  And while you are doing that, reflect on how you can better live out your dash so that others remember you the way that God intended. Live like Him!

So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other.   John 13:34
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