Sisters

            Me holding Sara as a baby

Today is my youngest sister, Sara's, birthday. I am the oldest of 3 girls. Lisa is 18 months younger than me and was diagnosed early on as being EMI (Educationally Mentally Impaired) and Sara is 6 years younger than me.

Being the oldest of 'the girls' was always a title I wore proudly. I loved being the oldest for all the text book reasons an oldest loves for holding that title. I got to be in charge (opinionated is what I think younger siblings call it but I politely disagree 😜), I got things first...privileges, clothes....discipline, I had loads of responsibilities. I loved it and loved being that for my family even when my sisters may or may not have loved my title as much as I did.

As the oldest, the direction and request I heard most while growing up went a little something like this.  Amy, where are your sisters. Amy, watch your sisters. Amy, can you see your sisters outside? Are they in the pool? Are they alright? Amy, did you see what happened to Lisa at school today...can you explain because she isn't able to fully articulate what happened.  Amy, take your sisters to the bathroom and make sure they are alright in there. Amy, help your sister with her stuff. You get the point.

I'm grown up now and have 3 daughters of my own. Being a firstborn is probably why I love being a mom so much...wanting to protect comes natural for me. However, I find myself asking the same of my oldest, Emma now. Emma, where are your sisters? Emma, did you see what happened at school? Emma, can you walk your sisters to the bathroom and make sure they get back alright? Emma, watch out for your sisters. We all do this to our oldest kids, right? It's natural. It's like they are an extension of us as parents...a fill in when mom and dad can't be around. It's a good thing. We are teaching them to look after somebody else. We are teaching them to make sure another human being doesn't lop off a limb while using the paper cutter, or drown in the bath tub or get taken in a public bathroom.

It is ingrained into the first born of almost every good family. To protect, cover and stand up for every child younger than you.  I'm not saying we do it well. I'm just saying it is asked of us from as early as we can remember and we try (for the most part anyways...teen years may get a bit dicey if there is a boy involved) but for the most part we really do try. We try hard to protect them when our parents aren't close by, we fight for them, stand up for them and make sure they don't get hurt. I feel my desire to do this was even more heightened by having my sweet sister, Lisa to often look out for when she couldn't stand up for herself.

It has been said as the youngest in a family you get shadowed by the oldest but, as an oldest, has anyone ever considered that the younger ones don't get shadowed? Maybe the older ones, in effort to protect and pave the way, say to themselves, I'll go first to see if it's safe for you because that's what we've been told to do.  Maybe not always in that noble of terms but maybe we just want to go ahead to make sure the younger ones don't get hurt.

We are told to protect. We want to protect. We love our younger siblings and out of that fierce love we sometimes admittedly get a little over zealous with the helping out part and it lasts far longer into adulthood than it probably needs to or that we would want to admit. But we do it anyways.

Today as I wished my sister, Sara, a 'happy' birthday.  I found the 'happy' part of that phrase not applicable this year. Our family has had quite a year already (and that would be a gross understatement). When Grace was taken from us 4 months ago I had a flash back of the time my sister lost another child (yes, Sara has lost 2 children now). I remember being in the hospital after she had the surgery after her ectopic pregnancy. She lost her baby and as she was still asleep from the anesthsia, I walked into the dimly lit room and stood by her bedside. As I watched her sleep my heart broke from her loss. I draped myself over her and wept for her loss.

Four months ago, different circumstances, but I stood in a hospital waiting room next to Sara the night of Grace's accident. I just stood next to her, eyes glazed over, hands held and staring at the wall in shock. She whispered something to me that night I'll never forget and it took root in my heart but it wasn't a new emotion to me. It was a simple request yet a request I had been trying to fulfill in a myriad of different ways for my entire life with her (and Lisa). I have always loved being her big sister. It's probably one of my favorite titles I have in this world. I love her fiercely. My heart broke that night. I wanted so desperately to help make this right. To fix. To protect. To carry. To do something. Anything to take away the intensity of this pain. I still feel this way. In my mind, those requests from my parents to watch out for my sisters have never left my heart. Yet, I am helpless in doing anything but stand by her side and love her. I would give anything to take this burden from her, hide her from pain or at least offer some comic relief in the midst of it.

For the oldest, it is hardwired into our DNA to try our best to help protect, help, offer fight and opinions (even when unwanted). It is something I have had to try very hard to not do as an adult and especially lately. I can't help lessen the pain or fix what's broken and make it right. I can't. I can however love her. I can however trust that there is a bigger covering than myself. A refuge and protector much larger than any first born title I hold. And that covering is what I have leaned into most for these last four months when I haven't had the answers. When I didn't know how to make the pain go away or even how to alleviate the tiniest ounce of it for her or for anyone else in my entire family. I run to this chapter when my heart has, day in and day out, ached with an actual physical pain for her loss. For all of our loss.

This is where I find the most peace right now when all my hardwired DNA protective big sister (mom, aunt, wife, daughter) stuff is at an absolute loss for words. Right here is where I find my rest and what I have to do.

Psalm 91

¹ Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
    will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.^[a]
2 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
    my God, in whom I trust.”

³ Surely he will save you
    from the fowler’s snare
    and from the deadly pestilence.
⁴ He will cover you with his feathers,
    and under his wings you will find refuge;
    his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
⁵ You will not fear the terror of night,
    nor the arrow that flies by day,
⁶ nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
    nor the plague that destroys at midday.
⁷ A thousand may fall at your side,
    ten thousand at your right hand,
    but it will not come near you.
⁸ You will only observe with your eyes
    and see the punishment of the wicked.

⁹ If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
    and you make the Most High your dwelling,
¹⁰ no harm will overtake you,
    no disaster will come near your tent.
¹¹ For he will command his angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways;
¹² they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
¹³ You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
    you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

¹⁴ “Because he^[b] loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
    I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
¹⁵ He will call on me, and I will answer him;
    I will be with him in trouble,
    I will deliver him and honor him.
¹⁶ With long life I will satisfy him
    and show him my salvation.”

When my heart is weary from the overwhelming pain and it can't take one ounce more of aching, I rest here on this chapter. He protects, He is our refuge and He never gets tired of hiding us under His shadow from it all.

So, while I couldn't make it a 'happy' birthday today for her, I know it is our God that has been and will be our help. I know it is Him who fights for us and protects us. So I trust in Him and I know it is His strength and shelter that is carrying us all through this storm. And there is a beautifully sweet 17 year old girl up in Heaven who knows this truth better than any of us could ever imagine because she is seeing Him do this first hand.

Hi Mercies are New

To my NLCA friends (as we enter tech week without Grace) and to everyone whose life, this loss and pain has reached or touched (or to anyone going through a difficult season) this bit of Scripture can speak so so much to us. 

Like Solomon who felt life had hit the bottom, (I think people are sometimes scared to admit they are at the bottom...but God knows where we are) Solomon choose to remember God's love and mercies. We CAN DO hard things even despite this pain. God is for us and He loves us and He knows our loss and pain. It hurts His heart, too. Have hope this morning! He is walking us all through this valley and giving us peace, comfort and hope! ❤️

I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness, the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed. I remember it all—oh, how well I remember— the feeling of hitting the bottom. But there’s one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:

GOD ’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. How great your faithfulness! I’m sticking with GOD (I say it over and over). He’s all I’ve got left.

GOD proves to be good to the man who passionately waits, to the woman who diligently seeks. It’s a good thing to quietly hope, quietly hope for help from GOD. It’s a good thing when you’re young to stick it out through the hard times.

When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence. Bow in prayer. Don’t ask questions: Wait for hope to appear. Don’t run from trouble. Take it full-face. The “worst” is never the worst.

Why? Because the Master won’t ever walk out and fail to return. If he works severely, he also works tenderly. His stockpiles of loyal love are immense. He takes no pleasure in making life hard, in throwing roadblocks in the way: (Lamentations 3:19-33 MSG)

My Box of Chocolates

"Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you are going to get". We are all familiar with that quote from Forrest Gump, right?

That quote has run through my mind a few hundred times in the last couple of months. Our family has been given something quite unexpected.  Our box of chocolates have given us something we didn't think we would ever get. I mean, really, who can ever anticipate an event so tragic in life?

The night we received the call that Grace had been in a car accident (Jimmy, my brother in law, called Jim as Sara, my sister, called me to give the news to come to the hospital) each of us in different rooms simultaneously having the same shock response. Screaming and crying with horror and  disbelief...

A few pieces of chocolate that never could have been imagined....and yet here we are. My blogs are probably more like journal entries I share instead of pieces of written art, yet this is my therapy. Just like it was when my dad died.

The following thoughts are a few pieces of chocolate from my box these days. I would rather trade them in then endure this hardship but that is not our option so instead we press on and try to wrap our brains around this cross we are now forced to bare.  The following words are just a few of thoughts that race through my mind most lately:

The definition Webster gives of a niece and cousin opposed to how our family defines those terms. Webster says they are a simple blood line connection of ancestors. Yet our definition of nieces and cousins means something quite a bit deeper. It has meant living and doing life next to each other day in and day out together for the last 17 years of Gracie's life. The five of our girls have lived life so closely that most of the time the sister and cousin lines have gotten blurred. Most of the time my sister and I just referred to them as our five girls. Together. A family unbroken.

Another thought. I've wanted to explain to everyone and anyone who would listen that in many instances when you are down this deep, if you are not careful, watchful and intentional, the enemy of our souls can come in dressed like an angel of light tempting you to take up trivial causes that will steal your emotional energy needed to grieve. He tempts you to divert your attention from grief to something unproductive like anger, jealousy, bitterness and unforgiveness. I have to be intentional with this one. It is a battle I refuse to participate in or give in to. I refuse to get caught up in battles that are not mine to fight and that will take me captive. I choose instead to fight against every thing that tempts me to be filled with anything contrary to the fruits of the Spirit.

I know this happens all to often to people fighting battles where they misplace their energy on what they see in the natural thinking that is the real problem...it isn't. We are in a spiritual battle that is unseen and our enemy would like nothing more to knock you off course chasing the pain of every other thing then what you are suppose to be fighting. Grief is the only thing we are fighting through right now.  Everything else is a waste of my emotional energy. I know this is a real temptation because Satan tempted me with this after my dad died. I wanted causes to fight for. I wanted to put my emotion into anything that would take my mind off the pain I was really feeling. Fighting with and for other things gave me ample opportunities to divert my attention to something that would keep me captive. Anger, offenses, jealousy and pride were all offered up to me to steal my attention and focus on those things instead of staying the course and grieving properly.  There were ample emotions to throw myself into that were meaningless leaving me fighting things that were not mine to fight. In doing that it prolonged my grieving process. I focused on the wrong things...tripping up listening to the complaints of those around me and in doing that it met my need to fix, fight and help something tangible. Grief wasn't tangible. I needed to fight something I could see and satan gave me plenty to fight against except those things left me feeling worse than the actual grief itself. I gave too much time and emotional energy to relationships thinly veiled as friendships as I tried to help but they only drained me and bogged me down with trivial problems and insecurities and that left me taking on unnecessary pain that kept me feeling empty and more broken and angry than the actual loss of my dad.

Nope. I decided this time to not do that again. I am very aware of that temptation again this time. I choose to rise above the temptation of  taking the bait that would drain me. This life lesson is firmly intact this time around as I work through grief (I pray that I don't have another time of grief to compare this one to any time soon).

Satan wants to trip you up with anything he can in order to get you to stay stagnant in your walk with God by tempting you to let anger, jealousy, bitterness, resentment, hurt feelings and offenses in and take over. They will tear you up. Trust me. Rise above all of those things. Let them go because otherwise they will pull you under.

Another chocolate in my box right now is this. I've wanted to explain how it is that I (we) can smile at events. How can I (we) hold it together to get through a design meeting, church service, banquet, outing or whatever. It is God. Simply. It's His strength. Honestly. He gives me the strength long enough to hold it together and make it through only to get in the car and get smacked with the reality again that we are hurting. That we lost our 17 year old niece and then I sob. I mean deep ugly cry kind of sob.  It is a heart wrenching cry from the depths of who I am and for so many different reasons.

I cry from the heart break I feel for my sweet little sister who I love more than words express and that I have spent the greater part of my life wanting to be there for. I see in her eyes the pain of something awful and a thing no mother should ever have to endure. Ever. The loss of her firstborn daughter. I cry for my brother in law for the same reason and for Evelyn who won't have a sister to steal clothes from, or lay on their bed together and talk about boys with, or do their hair or nails with or be the maid of honor in each others weddings or be an aunt to each others kids...just to name a few of the myriad of things that bring a permanent ache to my heart. I cry because I can see the look of absolute pain in my sister's eyes as we knowingly look at each other and ask ourselves how? How did we get here? How do you endure this kind of pain...this kind of loss? I ask myself and God how are they going through this 'worst case scenario' kind of tragedy? How do we pick up the pieces? How do we rebuild? We don't. We know God does though.

I cry when I look into my oldest daughter, Emma's, eyes. She is so much like her daddy that it makes me proud. Her strength and wisdom is unparalleled for a 16 year old young lady. Yet the pain and loss is so evident behind her eyes. She won't announce it. She won't beg for the attention of someone to help her. She won't break down in front of the world. But I know. I know because I am her mom. I know she cries into her pillow at night. I know that she is enduring a pain so great that she can't even begin to articulate the loss of her best friend, cousin/sister. I know she puts on a face and endures walking into a school absent of her best friend and she has to walk through those halls that once brought joy but now they are the valley of the shadow of death. Every. Single. Day. Those halls are a blaring reminder of the kind of loss no teen should ever have to endure. A pain that will take years to show how deep that wound really is. She and Grace were inseparable since the day Grace came to the hospital and welcomed her into this world. Now Emma has to endure Grace leaving this same world she welcomed her into...she left to early...much to early. Their bond was an instant bond. Grace has been a staple relationship in her life when others have left. Grace has encouraged Emma. She challenged Emma. She loved Emma so completely and deeply with a love so authentic and unconditional that it leaves me praying that that love will be carried in her heart for the rest of her life. But now. Now there is just intense pain and brokenness.

I cry for my middle daughter, Brooke, because she doesn't have her big cousin to jump into the arms of anymore and hang on like a little monkey clinging to her mama as they would laugh and bounce around together. I cry for that joy taken away from her. I cry for my youngest daughter, Maya, who affectionately (for as long as I can remember) called Grace 'her twin'...Grace and Maya were the bookends of our family...they had the same heart and kindred spirit and now that is gone. This kind of pain washes over us daily, sometimes moment by moment, as we remember who we have lost.

I cry for my mom who lost her best friend six years ago now only to find herself in a different kind of grief. A grief no adult should ever have to endure. The loss of a child. A grandchild. The loss of a life not lived out. A life taken unfairly from her. From us. The most unnatural kind of grief.

I explained this to a person one week after Grace died. I said grief is a crazy thing. It makes you feel bi polar. One moment you are pulled together smiling and the next you are one big hot mess. Everyone though mostly sees you smiling and interacting and the assumption by most is that you are alright. They see that we are moving forward and we are.... for the most part.

I have tons of Scripture in my heart reminding me daily how we move forward in this. I learned from the pitfalls the last time I walked through this valley. I know that despite this box of chocolates we have been given that my God really is faithful in the midst of our storms. I can tell you how thankful I am for the valley of the shadow of death after my dad died because I have learned to lean into God in the darkest of times and watched how He carried us then just like He is now. I have seen how God is always good and loving even when life doesn't make a lick of sense. I am trusting that what the enemy did for evil God will use for good. I could tell you that our theology is sound and we understand the concept of free will and the ins and outs of its beauties and atrocities (that double edged sword we call life). I have to believe that He WILL bring beauty from this heap of ashes we are sifting through. All these thoughts run through my head daily. Moment by moment reminding me and my family that our God is bigger than anything we can see with our natural eye. He is bigger than this pain we are carrying right now. It doesn't take the pain away but these Truths keep me focused on the character of God in the midst of tragedy.

So until we make it to the other side of grief I will continue to smile at events because an ugly cry isn't socially acceptable. It makes people uncomfortable. Death and unanswered questions make people nervous. I don't know why Grace died. Why in the matter of two seconds did this man swerve and hit her killing her instantly? I don't know why but I do know that Grace loved Jesus with every ounce of her person. I do know that we will all get to see her and my daddy again one day. These facts are what keep me from going crazy. I can't ask the why's because they will hurt more than the death itself. Asking why will keep stinging with no reprieve. So instead of trying to answer the why's of this box of chocolates I instead sit and wait patiently not asking why but rather 'how'. God, how will you make this one work out for good? 

He will keep faithfully showing us the 'hows".  How we will adapt to this new normal.  Knowing God doesn't take away the pain of grief at this moment. Knowing God just gives us the hope that this pain won't ruin us. That He will faithfully carry us...just as He has in the past.  It is still a process we must endure as a family but we have hope and that our God is our help, comfort and strength.

We serve a faithful God who truly is miraculously with our broken hearts. He is binding up our wounds one stitch at a time.  Despite the fact that my world is hurting, breaking and busting at the seams in my family in every direction I look,  I know that God is with us and that is where my weary heart finds rest.

Here I sit, holding this box of chocolates. Honestly, though I can't wait for the next box to come. Maybe that box will have caramel or snickers or something good but until then I hold onto God because I am certain He holds me as I hold on to Him and walks me through all this life gives me. Unexpected to me or not He is right there in the middle of it all.

 Amy Elizabeth