Gift from Heaven

Julian arrived around 7:45 AM on Wednesday, April 27.  He's a big boy - 8 pounds 9 ounces - and absolutely adorable.  When I held him for the first time, he was about 8 hours old, and touching him, feeling his baby-soft skin and smelling his sweet baby smell, again reminded me of the goodness of God.  My daughter-in-law is amazing; she is less than 5 feet tall, and carrying such a large baby was uncomfortable, but she never complained.  As we sat together the night before the scheduled C-section, she rubbed her large belly and said that she was savoring the last few hours of having that new life inside her womb, knowing that she would be holding him in less than 12 hours.  No longer would she feel him kicking and moving inside her; no longer would she carry his weight; no longer would she wonder what he looked like.  The pain of the C-section produced life, a wonderful new little life that is welcomed by brothers and parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins; a life for which God has a plan and a purpose; a life created in the image of God.
Baby and mother are coming home from the hospital tomorrow, their stay extended a day because big brother Benny had a fever yesterday.  Adjustments will be made to accommodate a new family member, and it won't be easy, but it will be done.  A new human being with a unique personality will turn the household upside-down!

Welcome to our family, Julian, precious gift from above.  The fingerprints of God have made you, and He has delivered you safely to this world. 

April 27, 2011

In about 36 hours, I'll be able to hold my grandson for the first time.  He still hasn't made his appearance, and unless he does before 7:15 AM on April 27, he'll show up then or shortly after!  My gorgeous daughter-in-law is huge with child; being 4' 10" tall doesn't give the baby much room to grow but OUT FRONT!  How that girl manages to pick up a 21-month old and hold him over that large belly is beyond me!  But she does! 

I'm packing my overnight bag tonight; I'll be staying at my son's house in Raleigh Tuesday night so they can get to the hospital at 5:15 in the morning.  I'll take care of my two small grandsons for the day, getting to do what I can't do on a regular basis because I work full-time, but it will be a joy to do so.  Two little boys will be very surprised later in the day to see that their mother doesn't have a large belly any longer and that the baby brother they've been expecting has actually arrived.  The oldest, Niland, is 3 years and 9 months, so he'll be able to understand that much, but Benny, at 21 months, won't have a clue. 

Through the miracle of technology, I've already seen a photograph of my unborn grandson at 7 months gestation - a 3-D photograph of him in the womb which shows what he actually looks like!  Amazing!  But to be able to hold him and touch that newborn skin and smell his sweet baby smell will be heavenly.  After the loss of my oldest sister, the gift of new life is even more precious, profound and mysterious. 

Children are little bits of heaven wrapped in runny noses, dirty faces, slobbery kisses, and mighty hugs.  If you still have little ones in your house or life, don't wish them to grow up quickly.  It will happen all too soon.  I noticed my age typed on a prescription the other day - 61 - and it hit me that I'm really that old, but I don't know how it crept up on me.  When did I get to be 61 years old?  A new grandson, as with each grandchild my children have given to me, reminds me that life is fleeting, yet God knows the number of our days.

I'll post a photo of the new baby - who has yet to be named - as soon as I can find the time.  Please pray for a safe delivery by C-section on Wednesday, April 27. 

Nature's Wrath

Living in North Carolina has its benefits -- mild winters with little or no snow (usually!), a long growing season, and proximity to beautiful shorelines -- but the state has its share of misfortune when hurricanes blow in, dumping copious amounts of rain and spawning tornadoes as they bend trees like rubber bands.  That's when we usually see tornadoes around here -- as spinoffs of thunderstorms around hurricanes.  But this past weekend saw a unique blend of weather that created supercells that spawned tornadoes like we've never seen before.  With a cold front approaching from the west, strong winds ahead of the front pulling up moisture-laden air from the south, and upper-level winds that went in different directions, the result was catastrophic.  At least 25 tornadoes touched down in the eastern part of the state; multiple tornadoes were on the ground simultaneously.  As the storms barrelled across the state with alarming speed, I watched the local news station weather people struggle to stay on top of events as the situation unfolded.  It was very stressful watching, knowing that people's lives, livelihoods, vehicles, and homes were being destroyed.  Even the capital city of Raleigh was not spared.  The tornadoes were powerful, staying on the ground for miles upon miles, sucking up everything in their paths.  I guess the only good thing that can be said about this past Saturday is that the tornadoes occurred during the daylight hours; if it had been dark and people had been asleep, the results would have been ten times worse. 
In a Raleigh trailer park, 3 boys were killed instantly when a large tree fell on the home.  Also injured were the mother and baby sister of one of the boys.  The baby died Tuesday of her injuries.  The children were cousins.  Their funerals were today.  I can't imagine the grief their parents and family are carrying; mine at the loss of my sister pales by comparison.  The total death toll in the state now stands at 24, but it could still climb higher as many people were critically injured.  I'm praying that it doesn't go any higher.  The dead range in age from 3 months to 92 years 
Flags throughout the state are flying at half-staff today in honor of the victims of the tornadoes.  Houses, buildings, and barns can be rebuilt, but the lives lost are gone forever.
There is a chance of severe thunderstorms this evening, but we've been assured by the weather people that the conditions are not conducive to producing what we saw on Saturday.  I'm hoping for some rain at my house; Saturday's storms fortunately went around our area, and we received little rain, no wind, and no hail.  The storms were concentrated and violent and their paths were narrow, leaving property destroyed and yet leaving other places, sometimes across the street, unscathed.  The photos below show areas of Raleigh where the tornado wasn't even on the ground but was about 15 feet above the ground, which resulted in snapped trees toppled onto buildings.  Where the tornado actually touched the ground, entire homes were blown apart and left a heap of rubble, or they were torn assunder and scattered as far as the wind could throw them.  These are photos I took while driving around with my husband the day after the storms.

There is so much for which to be thankful as I sit and enjoy the peaceful beauty of my house and yard.  My prayers are for those who suffered the loss of so much, many of whom had so little, on a spring day in North Carolina when Mother Nature displayed her meanest side.

Grief

It's been a long time since I posted on this blog, and much has happened, but I've been hesitant to come here and share my grief.  Grief is personal.  Grief is deep and often incomprehensible.  Grief will visit all of us sooner or later. 
My grief stems from the death of my oldest sister, Mary-jane, who lived in a small town in Kansas.  She had multiple medical problems, but her death was unexpected.  Sadly, her family didn't see the need to contact her sisters and brother until her final days, and this added to our grief.  Mary-jane suffered a massive stroke, and her family failed to recognize its seriousness and did nothing about contacting emergency medical technicians until it was too late.  She was unresponsive and had to be intubated and taken to the hospital in Topeka, where she was put on life support for about three days.  When the decision was made to remove her from life support, she suprisingly breathed on her own.  We were notified that she had died when in reality she had not.  However, her prognosis was very poor, and she ultimately did die in the early morning hours of April 5, about 36 hours after she was removed from life support.  She would have turned 65 on April 10. 
The rollercoaster ride of being told about her stroke, her prognosis, her 'death', discovering that she was still alive, and her actual death was exhausting and extremely emotionally draining.  I wouldn't wish this series of events on anyone; it was the most excruciating personal event I've endured in my 61 years.  With the knowledge of her death came the news that there would be no memorial service, no funeral, for my oldest sister -- and this added to the pain of her loss.  Her family's decision ruled, but it left her sisters and brother, who live scattered across the US, with no closure, no chance to say goodbye, and no opportunity to comfort each other.  The pain was real and deep.
How does one deal with loss?  Mary-jane was my sister, but she was a sibling, not a spouse.  Surely the loss of people in one's life has varying degrees of depth and pain, yet her death was -- and still is -- difficult to take.  In the days that followed her death, in an attempt to find closure outside the usual path of a funeral, I purchased a rose bush called "Beloved", planted it in a large pot outside where I can see it every day, and added a small statue of a reclining fairy that my daughter had given me.  Then I wrote a eulogy to her and shared it with my siblings.  Those two simple acts have aided me in closure of an event that seems so far removed from me yet extremely intimate.  I needed to see her to know that she truly is gone, but that will never happen.  My two other sisters also wrote eulogies and shared them with me, and thus we have remembered our oldest sister.  Sometimes the reality that she is dead hits me, and I want to cry again, and sometimes I do cry.  But even as I grieve my sister's death, I anticipate the birth of my son's third son, another grandchild.  My beautiful daughter-in-law is scheduled for a C-section on April 27 if she doesn't go into labor before then.  The thought of holding this new life in my arms comforts me. 
We all must die sooner or later.  For my sister, it seemed that it was sooner, but yet it was later than many people.  Remember that each day of life is a gift from God; embrace each day and run with it, loving those who may not be loveable all the time.  We have only the second that is the present. 

Anticipation

Anticipation -- to enjoy prematurely -- is certainly an essence of the human spirit that keeps us going.  Currently I'm anticipating a lot of things -- the warmth of the summer sun; the smell of gardenias; a warm, juicy tomato picked fresh from the vine; the clean smell of a thunderstorm; boogey-boarding at the beach (yes, I do that! and I'm pretty good at it, too!); putting up the pool splashing in it with our grandkids; the birth of grandchild number seven (due April 27); fresh-picked blueberries sprinkled on my morning bowl of cereal; sitting on the swing, enjoying the cool summer evenings; the scent of fresh-mown grass; flowers in bloom in the perennial bed; fresh squash, peas, lettuce, cucumbers, okra, beans and other vegetables from my garden; my list could go on and on and would certainly include retirement!  Everyone anticipates something at one point or another, and I believe anticipation is part of God's plan.  If we didn't have anything to look forward to, what would life be like?  I think it would be pretty disappointing and depressing.  Looking forward to the future gives us hope for a better tomorrow, better health, better attitude, and better life.  "Where there is no hope, the people perish" (Proverbs 29:18)  God knows that we need hope, but at the same time, all we have is the moment that we're living.  We're not promised tomorrow; we're not promised an hour from now.  Yet hope is what keeps us going.  Hope and anticipation of future events give our lives focus.  We can't do anything about the future, but we can eagerly anticipate and embrace it as God's plan is revealed to us, day by day, moment by moment.  Embracing our moments is so much better than railing at God for what He brings our way.  Opportunity for growth comes with trials and challenges, but no one ever said life was easy -- it isn't!
So anticipate with joy and hope your future days and embrace every moment that you have because in the twinkling of an eye, the moment becomes the past. 

Is Anyone Out There?

I'm wondering if I should end this blog -- readership has dropped off considerably, so that tells me that my topics must not be very interesting, riveting, or noteworthy.  Comments are few, which doesn't create a flow of conversation and ideas between me and my readers.  Do you ever feel as if you're sending something into cyberspace and that no one cares?  I'm at that crossroads.  If you like my blog and want me to keep it up, please let me know.  Many things in life are for a season, and it might be the end of the season of my blog.  It's fun and I enjoy it, but with little feedback and hits (the records of which I can access), I'm discouraged.  I've never had grandiose ideas about thousands, or even hundreds, of people reading this, trust me, but it would be nice if readers would increase rather than decrease. 

So I'm going to give this about 2 weeks for people to respond -- hopefully I'll hear from you.  If this blog encourages you in the Word, in God, or in life, please let me know.  If just one person truly would hate to see me stop writing, that will be enough for me to keep going, but I won't know unless you tell me.

Looking forward to reading responses from my readers -- all of us need encouragement! 

It's an Uncertain World

As I write this, it has been less than 12 hours since the devastating historic earthquake and tsunami have hit Japan.  Seeing the extreme devastation and knowing that people had no way of escaping the crushing tidal wave causes me to pause.  Life is short.  Life is precious.  Life is unpredictable.  The world is an uncertain place.  Everything can change in a blink of an eye, in a split second.  As the hours pass, word will continue to trickle out of Japan as to the number of lives lost, but they are more than numbers -- they are people who lived, laughed, loved, and impacted the lives of others on a daily basis. 

To have survived the earthquake and the ensuing catastrophic tsunami is one thing, but to now deal with the aftermath is quite another.  Broken buildings, crushed homes, upheaved streets and roads, boats and debris piled high, bodies buried in the debris -- coping with this is another thing entirely.  People have nowhere to go to escape the devastation, no place to rest, eat, bathe, or simply sit down and feel safe as aftershocks are a constant reminder that the earth moves and there is nothing you can do about it.

I have readers in Japan, and I hope and earnestly pray that all is well with them and their loved ones.  As in many instances in life, survival depends on where you are when an event such as this occurs.  Every part of our world deals with some sort of threat of a natural disaster, some places moreso than others, and living in North Carolina gives us a sense of security in that we don't experience catastrophic events (at least, we haven't), but we have to deal with tornadoes, which come quickly, and hurricanes, but we can get out of the way of those.  I work in a 5-story building and have wondered what it would be like to have it shake violently, and I've decided that I don't want to know.  The videos I've seen from Japan are enough to quell my curiosity.  There are some things in life that I don't want to experience!

In our uncertain world, there is one thing that is certain -- God is still in control.  We are not guaranteed safety and shelter from the storms of life, but God is still in control.  We will all ultimately leave this world behind, and to know that God has prepared a place for those who are His gives us peace in times such as these.