Tag: faith

what is a God kiss?

From the beginning of this unwanted journey, there were specific things that happened, words that were said and sweet reassurances given that showed us we were loved and not alone. The picture that came to mind is of a father holding his hurt child in his lap and placing a gentle kiss on their forehead. The kiss may not take the hurt away, but it reminds the child that they are precious and held steady in their father’s arms. Any time these sweet gifts were given to us, I felt my Heavenly Father holding me tightly and comforting me with a kiss. I realized that these gifts aren’t just given in the midst of tragedy, they can be seen throughout my life if I look for them. I call these moments God kisses.

I wrote this poem in honor of my sweet boy, and I read it at his memorial service.

the God kiss (written Jan 2023)

a precious little boy, who was not ours from the start,
although the first time I saw him I wanted him to be,
sitting in my car in the DHS parking lot,
wondering why God was asking this of me

as he grew every day, his personality started to shine,
and I fell more in love with each smile,
I marveled (and still do) at God’s perfect design
of that silly, beautiful child

he kept us on our toes over the years,
with his love for adventure and fearless heart,
but he taught us so much through laughter and tears
I don’t even know where to start

from dirt bikes to roller coasters, and climbing the highest tree
his energy never ran out
and at night when he slowed down and cuddled with me
his sweetness made my heart want to shout

the mischievous twinkle in his eye was oh so cute
but could make me a little bit scared,
seeing his vibrant, joyful attitude
he embraced life like no one else dared

his laughter was contagious, so beautiful and free,
and one smile from him could brighten my day
I cherish the 10 years he was here on earth with me
but I’m thankful he’s with Jesus to stay

our hearts are broken, we may never understand,
and our tears will continue to fall,
but as I look back on this journey and the son God placed in our hands,
I realize Paxton was the biggest God kiss of all

sadness

December 11, 2022 was the last “normal” night in our family’s life. It’s surreal that it has been two years since our lives imploded. It’s excruciating that it’s been two years since Paxton’s accident. Last year, reaching all of the first milestones was hard. This year is hard too, but this year I’m overwhelmingly sad.

Since Paxton left, it’s been comforting for me to look at pictures and watch videos of my boy. Recently, that has changed and been a new facet of my grief. When I think about the fun things we did as a family, like going to Great Wolf Lodge, Disney World or Cedar Point, the memory of our smiling, carefree family is now tainted. It’s like I’m watching a horror movie…I can see the tragedy approaching in slow motion and there is nothing I can do.

I wish I could go back and tell that family to soak it in. I wish I could wrap that family in a bubble, freeze them in time and keep them in the wonder, fun and excitement of water slides, roller coasters and togetherness. I wish I could protect them from the chaos and heartbreak that will gut them in a few short years. I wish I could have just one more moment with Paxton.

I’m sad…more sad than I’ve been in a long time. I miss my boy so much. I miss his silliness, his mischievousness and his smile. I miss holding his hand and being wrapped in one of his bear hugs. I miss the person I was. I miss the person he was. I miss the person he would now be.

Two years seems like a lifetime and an instant at the same time. Our grief is different, but it is no less deep, heavy or painful. God has given us sweet gifts the past few years…things that probably wouldn’t have happened if Paxton hadn’t left. We are grateful for those glimpses of joy, but we miss our sweet boy with everything in us.

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like fog

heavy and dense

sadness is settling in

a familiar

but unwelcome friend

taking me back

to the day when

chaos

devastation and

heartbreak began

my arms ache for your hugs

my ears long for your laugh

my eyes drown with tears

how has it already been two years

since I’ve seen your smile

heard your voice

held your hand in mine

I wish I could

turn back time to have

just one more day

one more hour

one more moment

to feel your warmth

to hear your heart beating

in your chest

on more chance to say

I love you

you’re my best

sadness

like fog

heavy and dense

sadness is settling in

a familiar

but unwelcome friend

taking me back

to the day when

chaos

devastation and

heartbreak began

my arms ache for your hugs

my ears long for your laugh

my eyes drown with tears

how has it already been two years

since I’ve seen your smile

heard your voice

held your hand in mine

I wish I could

turn back time to have

just one more day

one more hour

one more moment

to feel your warmth

to hear your heart beating

in your chest

on more chance to say

I love you

you’re my best

the three Ws…part 2

writhing…WRESTLING…worship

wrestle (verb)

struggle with a difficulty or problem

During our six weeks in the hospital, there were so many moments God specifically showed us He was with us in the valley, and He was caring for us and Paxton. So when Paxton was suddenly gone without medical explanation, I had to wrestle with God and the way He wrote Paxton’s story.

I’m still wrestling. I have not lost my faith, but Paxton’s death has caused me to get in the ring with God and wrestle about what faith truly is. It has caused me to question if God really was there, if He still is, and if I truly believe He is good.

I feel sometimes, as Christians, we think having faith means everything is wrapped up in a tidy bow because God is sovereign. We feel like questioning God and wrestling with Him is wrong and diminishes our faith. We think because God is good, and works all things together for good, tragedy should be filtered through the lens of glorifying God which means we can’t question, sorrow, wail, rage or struggle with Him.

Chad said he realized the amount of sorrow we feel and experience does not correlate to our depth of faith or lack thereof. Wrestling with God does not mean I’m losing my faith. In fact, I would say my willingness to wrestle with Him actually strengthens my faith. You can only wrestle with someone if you are face to face with them.

So I wrestle…and I will wrestle with this the rest of my life. There are days when I’m wrestling as hard as I can and there are days when I can barely whisper “why?”. Paxton’s death did not diminish God’s goodness. Paxton’s death can and will be used for good, But, for me, Paxton’s death was not and never will be good.

Throughout the past 664 days, God has remained faithful. He has embraced me in my wrestling and continued to show me He was really there, He is with me now, and He IS good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have to tell myself

over and over again

this is hard

but You are good

my heart is broken

but You are good

I feel forsaken

but You are good

I don’t understand

but You are good

why did you let him die?

You are good

death is not good

but You ARE good

I believe You’re good

I know You’re good

so why does this feel so bad?

why is it so hard to trust?

why does this seem so unjust?

this doesn’t feel like love

my heart is wrestling

locked arm in arm

standing face to face

with grace

You accept my anger

and rage

never letting go

holding me in place

bearing the weight of my pain

capturing my tears in a bottle

wrapping me in your embrace

giving me strength to wait

writhing

are those tears

or raindrops on my cheeks?

it seems the sky is also crying

a silent scream

comes from within me

my body bent in half with grief

from pain there is no relief

sorrow brings me to my knees

Jesus!

the only word I can speak

my soul is writhing

the three Ws…part 1

WRITHING…wrestling…worship

writhe (verb)

  to twist from or as if from pain or struggling

  to suffer keenly

Writhing, wrestling and worship are three words that have been prominent in my grief journey. Some days, I only have to deal with one W. Other days, I finally make my way through the maze of one W, just to find myself faced with the maze of another. Then, there are days I feel like I’m on a ride at the fair. You know the rides where what you’re sitting in is spinning one way, but the ride itself is spinning another? Those days, the three Ws have me spinning so many different ways, I’m not sure I’ll ever stop.

I’ve experienced pain before. We’ve had hard in our lives, marriage and our parenting journey, but nothing has compared to the pain of the past 21 months. Actually, when it comes to child loss, I would say the word pain does not come close to naming what bereaved parents feel.  I think writhing is a much more accurate description.  When I think of writhing, I think of immense pain to which there is no relief.  That is child loss.  Immense pain, that is, at times, less intense, but will never be fully gone this side of heaven.

Today I am writhing because the next three months we are facing a gauntlet. There aren’t just two hard dates ahead, there are multiple dates that will bring joy, sorrow, or most likely a mixture of both. They all have the possibility of being a trigger. Starting with Halloween…my birthday…Thanksgiving…the anniversary of Paxton’s accident…Christmas…Jenna’s birthday…our wedding anniversary…Paxton’s heaven day…Chad’s birthday…and the date of Paxton’s memorial service.  I wish I could go to sleep Wednesday and wake up February 3, 2025.

Another bereaved parent, who has become a precious friend, used a scene from The Avengers to describe the life of a bereaved parent.  The Avengers are in New York and need Bruce Banner to become The Hulk.  Captain America tells Bruce it might be a good time to get angry.  Bruce replies “that’s my secret Captain…I’m always angry”.  I’m not always angry (although I do get angry…but that’s for another post), but I am always writhing.  There are times it’s not visible, but it’s always there, under the surface.  I twist and turn to try and find permanent relief from the pain of Paxton’s death, but it’s always there and always will be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

are those tears

or raindrops on my cheeks?

it seems the sky is also crying

a silent scream

comes from within me

my body bent in half with grief

from pain there is no relief

sorrow brings me to my knees

Jesus!

the only word I can speak

my soul is writhing