For the Moments I Can't Sleep

Yeah,.... it's just early for me. Once in a while, I'm sure some of you can relate, I just wake up, ridiculously early and can't go back to sleep. For me, I think of Sarah, and songs run through my mind. Songs that help me through dealing with Sarah, songs that are healing.
I love to sing, and I love to write songs, so automatically I think, "I just need to get up, I'm up for a reason. ... I'll write." Before I get up though, a fresh song comes into my mind, and when that happens, any writer just scrambles for paper to write it down before it's forgotten. So I get up, quickly, and write His song. I try to put myself in check, cause I have this tendency to take the credit, for something my hands wrote, when it's the Spirit who is working in me, giving me the words to write. So it's His song.
Well I did it again this morning. Christmas Eve. It's a praise song, about standing on your crippled legs, still serving our King. I have every earthly excuse to just give up, and sleep my life away, but I serve a Great King. And He has given me strength that only He can give. So I can stand on my crippled legs, beating the odds, cause I have a Savior and Tower that is mightier than this world. You know how I know that I can stand, because that is only a sliver of what my Jesus did for me. Before He was crucified, while His flesh was torn from scourging and beatings, He bore His cross..... with us in mind.....
We are called to do the same. No matter what, I will serve my King.
If you can't bare your cross when you are beaten, how then are you going to carry your cross, when you are scourged.
Think of today as practice for greater things to come, cause your King is calling you to do His work, and you know what that means.

Listening to the Spirit Speak

I was once told that in ancient Jewish culture ( not to say that they don't do it today) that if there was a death, friends and family would go to their house and sit with them..... just sit.
If the grieved one talked, then the friends and family would talk. If the person wanted to just sit, though, they all would just sit. ... in silence. I know for some people today, that's hard, but truly, silence is so soothing to one that has just lost someone so close. There are no words that any man can say to make ... it ... better, or make it ... ok.
I hated it when people would hug me and say, "It'll be ok" .... honestly I wanted to smack them. No, I'm not proud of that feeling, but I'm being honest. Not that I'm holding a grudge against any of you for saying that, if you did, cause honestly I don't remember who would say it to us. Anyway, define ok.... feeling well.. doing fine.... at that time, that is the last thing I wanted to hear or feel, for that matter. Especially from someone who has no idea how I'm feeling. It's suffocating, really.

If you noticed in my story about Sarah, the people that I remember making it such a beautiful moment, that day in the hospital, were people that didn't say much TO US. They spoke FOR US..... , let me elaborate. Our pastors, they read scripture... the only words that we could truly hear at that time, the only words that were going to enable us to heal. The Pattersons, they prayed over us, for our marriage, our family. Our friends, Marc and El, they wept with us, holding us. That's what made it even slightly bearable. The fact is, is that we had such spiritual fellowship, and the only words that were spoken were scripture, prayer, and the sound of weeping. I remember when we got back to mom's house, after being at the hospital for hours, going straight to that very bed, my little girl left me. I planted myself there. If anyone wanted to see me, they had to come and sit with me on that bed. I remember I was laying there and Brandy came in and laid right beside me, and that's all she did. We cried, just she bearly said anything. That was a beautiful moment.
Have you ever felt like you didn't know what to say to someone who has lost such a loved one? That's the Spirit trying to tell you to be silent, He has given you no words to speak, cause there are none. What do you say to a mother who has lost a child .... 'it'll be ok? " NO,
if you say anything at all,

May His Words come out of your mouth.... Luke 20:36, "for neither can they die anymore, for they are like angels, and they are children of God...."
May you know the scripture so well that you respect Philippians 4:7, "and peace of God, which transcends all comprehension, shall guard your heart and your minds in Christ Jesus. "

Sometimes people would come up to us, stand in front of us, and say, " I don't know what to say.." believe it or not,.... that also, was a breath of fresh air.

the Final Ceremony

This is actually a picture several months after Sarah's Funeral, but I wanted to take you here so you could see where her body dwells. The ceremony was beautiful. White flowers, for purity. White flowers everywhere. She was dressed in a blue Christmas gift dress, that I had received prior to her death. Worn by no one else. My twin brothers Seth and Noah were her pallbearers. That was hard.... only needing two, for such a small coffin. My husband Joshua spoke his first sermon in the ceremony, that he had actually written a week prior, not knowing that he would need to use it sooner, rather than tucking it for later use when he becomes a pastor himself. It was entitled,"Contentment in the Coming Storm" I haven't actually watched the video, but I believe we have it. Just ask and I'll let you see it. Anyway, I was so proud of him, he spoke the truth, and learned how to stand on his crippled legs, ... I am honored to be his wife.
The ceremony at the cemetery was frightening. I remember not wanting to get out of the limo to finalize this. A part of me wanted to make, even this, last... cause that meant that I stayed close to the time that she was alive. Sure I wanted to heal, but I more wanted my baby back. I just couldn't accept her death. I remember sitting in those chairs that have those coverings on them, reserved for the closest members of the family. It was December and their was no snow yet. That part was perfect. It was cold, but there was no snow or ice to worry about. I sat there, I know I listened at the time, but can't remember quite what the pastor said right now, but there is one thing I do remember. My face hurt from all the crying, it was swollen, I'm sure I didn't even look like myself. The cold wind brushed against my face, as if the Spirit was drying my tears. I took a breath. I looked at that coffin, with all those pretty white flowers. That same wind touched my face again, I took another breath. Each time I was going down in my despair, that wind wisped against my face, and I took another breath. Some people think that God's healing just comes miraculously upon them, like BOOM, "your healed!" it's not true, not with grieving anyway. With sin, I believe that Jesus has already healed you, you just have to have that BOOM moment in order to realize that, and embrace the way He originally made you. It's a cross you will bear, but you will bear it, cause you are a child of God.
Back to the grieving part, though, you have to take it breath to breath. You have to realize that He is breathing for you. That's where the healing begins. That's all you are asked to do. Not to make a spectacle of how well you are doing. Not to smile every time someone sees you, masking your true feelings. If you have the strength and the urge to smile, smile. If it's walking, walk. If it's talking, talk. If it's sitting, sit. If it's crying, cry. If it's only to breath, then just breath. All these things God gave us because He thinks that it's beautiful. He made us this way for a reason. These are gifts. You just have to realize that they are, and embrace them. Let it be. Amen. Do you know what Amen means? I have 2 versions. I've heard people say it means, "I agree" or another is " Let it be" . The Sabbath is about healing, doing nothing, but sitting and breathing and taking in the healing that only the Spirit can do. Once a week. Just healing from life's trials. If you do not feel you are healing, I ask you, are you taking the time to be with your Savior, with your Redeemer, with your Healer? To find comfort in His Words, to know that He is God, to let the Spirit breathe in you? I'm still working on it, but I know that because I am taking that time, I am healing. (this pic is me breathing several days after she died)

May you be the creation that God has made in the image of Himself. Just as Jesus walked, talked, sat, cried, breathed, so you may find that freedom of doing so. May you take the time to realize how truly precious you are to Him who loves you. So precious, in fact, that sometimes
(and definitely, once a week, Sabbath) all He asks of us is to breathe.

Samuel

What blessings children can be in different ways. Brandy's son, Samuel, our nephew, was only 2 1/2 months older than Sarah. Brandy and I were pregnant together, having our babies together, it really was a joyful time, as we filled the Wing House with plenty of grandchildren:) When Sarah died, my arms felt so empty. I became less busy only taking care of our first child once again. I remember not wanting to hear babies crying or even the mere sound of their voice. It made me sick and, to be honest, bitter... that they had their baby, and I didn't. Why did I have to lose mine? - I constantly asked myself. Not that I'd wish it on anyone else, but you know how everyone thinks- I won't happen to me. I remember at that very Christmas dinner, that I previously mentioned in the last post, that I realized how healing children can be, and for that moment, it was those Dawson boys:)
I was holding Sarah's blanket and 3 year old David comes to me and asks, so curiously, "What's that?" he points to the blanket. I teared up, and told him, "it's Sarah's blanket" he's a smart boy, so he continues asking, "Where is Sarah?" and I told him all that was important, that she was in Heaven with Jesus up in the sky. He pondered that statement that I had made to him, and as I'm holding back my tears, as to not frighten him, he says to me, " well...... He needs to come back down here, and bring that baby back to you!" Losing some tears at that point, I told him that it doesn't work that way, that she is there to stay and she can't come here, but we have to go there. He ponders, once again, and tells me his elaborate plan on how we are all going to go to visit heaven. I don't even remember some of the details about his master plan, but I do remember his final solution, because every idea that he came up with, he figured out how that idea wouldn't work. So he says to me, in his finale, "We are just going to have to wear, really really big shoes." He had this very serious look on his face too. anyway, by the end of it all, I was laughing.
That day, I got enough strength to hold another baby, our baby Samuel. He loved on me, and cuddled with me and gave me lots of love. I cried, of course, and he'd look at me and lay his head back down on me. It was so healing to be able to do that. I was so fearful of what might happen, but I've come to realize that, if it's fear that you feel, that probably means that you are supposed to be doing it. Of course satan wants me to crash to place that I can't get out of, so he will bring in fear, wherever I am that will do me good. I held that baby, and now I can't stay away from them and want the whole world of babies. I'm not sure yet on how many babies Josh and I will have. God willing ,... a lot.:) I have been given a blessing to watch, one of Sarah's best friends, grow up. And that relationship will always have a place in my heart. God is good.

aftermath

This picture was taken almost a week after Sarah died, we were at a family Christmas dinner. I was so weak from all the trauma that I laid down a lot, not necessarily to sleep but to rest, ... to heal... to cry.... to breath. There's this white blanket that one of our dear friends gave to Sarah when I delivered her. I had that blanket with her everywhere... it was soft and she loved it. After she died, I carried that thing around everywhere. If you were at the visitation or the funeral, you saw me with that blanket on my arm. Her smell stayed on it only a couple days. I had this lotion that I used on her, that I would put on it, to make it smell like her again. I remember thinking it was impossible to live anymore. I had this thought process from the beginning that if Sarah wanted to come back to me, she wouldn't, why would she? She is standing at the feet of Jesus. She is like an angel. Josh's Uncle Doug wrote a beautiful obituary saying that "God saw fit to spare her the heartaches of this world" As a parent, you pray for the day your children receive salvation, because that means everything, but I don't have to worry about Sarah, she is SAFE. She is locked in His arms and He has no intentions of letting her go. If we all could only understand that about salvation... it's a promise... John 10:29, "My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the My hand."
Christmas was extremely hard that week. The day Christmas was over, I tore my decorations down within 30 min. and that's pretty short cause I have a lot of decorations. I found the only thing I could reflect on was the simple fact that Jesus was born and my Sarah is with Him now, thanks to our Comforter. Simple.... the way it's supposed to be. To celebrate the coming of our Savior, and that one day we will all be together, with Him.
Christmas has gotten easier but still stirs a lot of anxiety, but again, we must press on through it.
As long as I keep the focus on what it's supposed to be, about Jesus, then Christmas is a joy. Every anniversary of my little girls death will always have this ache in my heart, as it should be. Jesus does not want me to forget that pain, cause it's made me who I am today. and I thank God for allowing me to be a part of her ministry, and it will only prevail if I spread it.

Sarah's Story

It was Sunday, a week before Christmas, we were over at my mom's house, she and I were putting together our traditional Christmas cookies for gifts. The table was full of cookies and all sorts of goodies. It was a calm day, Josh, my husband, was at the computer along with my brothers, Seth and Noah, for they were watching music videos. Two other friends arrived, Kyle and John, getting ready for Colonial PA's practice that afternoon. The kids were asleep. Isaiah had just turned 2 a couple weeks prior and Sarah was 3 months and 10 days old. She could not roll over yet at all, so I had her sleeping on my mom's king-sized bed. All the blankets were off of her bed cause she was washing them. When I had laid Sarah down, a little while after I had nursed her for the last time, I laid her on her belly cause she would not sleep on her back. She was a belly baby. Some of you mothers might understand. I kissed her on her cheek and snuggled the blanket underneath her arms. ... and left.....
About an hour had passed when I was trying to find something to fasten the gift wrap with for the cookies, and my mom said, "I have ribbon in my bedroom, in my closet. Go get the ribbon." I will never forget that instruction. I went in the bedroom, just down a very short hallway. I glanced over at Sarah as I was passing through, trying not to wake her. But I realized she was face down. I had never before had issues with her doing that, so I thought it was strange. Calmly I turned her head to the side, so casually, thinking everything's fine. I noticed right away a discoloration of her face. Instantly I picked her up, having both of my hands under each of her arms. I held her up to look at her better and I noticed that she was this purple, grey color all over. I'll never forget the weight of her body as I held her like that. I didn't even realize she wasn't breathing until after I immediately screamed for Mom. I found myself trying to pat her back firmly, as if she were choking on something, so she'll come to. I remember having her forehead against my cheek then too, I felt this coolness to her head. My mother raced to me, and instantly she grabbed Sarah from me and told me to call 911. I didn't believe that it was that bad, but I went anyway. Not knowing, for sure, where the cordless was, I raced to the phone that I knew where it would be. I ran into the living room, plowed through my husband, my brothers, and their friends to get to the phone on the other side of them. Josh was asking me what was wrong, I couldn't answer him. He repeatedly asked me until I yelled to him, "Just, go..... GO see Sarah!" When I got on the phone, and tried to dial 911, still not believing that this could be that bad, I heard mom on dialing also. She had found that cordless, right next to her. I ran back in the room, with mom hovering over Sarah, and telling the dispatcher what was going on. I started rubbing Sarah's chest, shaking her a little while she lay, and spit up was coming out of her mouth. I thought I was making progress, but I couldn't help myself but to yell, "Sarah, Breathe, .... Breathe Sarah!" I was crying in fright. Josh dropped to his knees and wept helplessly. Mom told me to be quiet so she could hear the dispatcher telling her how to do CPR. Mom followed all their instructions. She put Sarah to the floor and started CPR. I watched, praying to God that she would start breathing.
My mother-in-law, Jennifer,(who is a nurse) came barreling in and took over the CPR. My mom was relieved for she wasn't sure that she was doing it right. (which she was, Jennifer later told her) Then the paramedics came through into the house shortly after. My father-in-law, Jeff, ( paramedic himself) helped them try to resuscitate her. When they all came through, I remember thinking, I've got to get out of their way, but I'm not leaving her sight. So I stood, helplessly, in the doorway of the room, pleading with God with all my might, to let her come back to us. People were behind me holding me as I watched. I remember seeing Jeff's face, he was trying to hold back his emotions, but couldn't, as he knew what the outcome might be, because he had seen others. He let the medics do their work, then they announced "Let's go ahead and take her in." I ran out of the way, into the living room, passing people, cops, whoever and running outside to find Josh sitting on the patio steps, his dad talking to him. I told them that we are going to the hospital now. So we crammed into a jeep truck, I think, with Jeff and Jennifer and we drove to the hospital. We made it before the ambulance. The hospital staff took us to a room to talk to us about what's about to happen. All I remember is thinking, even if they do bring her back, I'm not stupid, she'll will indefinitely have brain damage. But regardless, I wanted her back. They told me after she arrived that she wasn't responding to medicine or resuscitation and that we could see her. I was so scared to go in, but I went in and I saw her little body as pale as the sheet she was laying on. Her clothes were cut and the nurse was over her continuing in CPR. Sarah had a long-sleeve shirt on with a sweater over it. I touched her arm and felt her coldness, through her layers of clothes. I was taken back. I pulled my hand away, and turned to Josh and cried and said to him, "She's cold... She's gone" I had felt that before. (but that's another story) I cried so hard. Still in unbelief that she was really gone. That my baby girl was dead. I sat down, and hung my head with my hair covering my face, I knew nothing else to do but to silently yell inside my soul as the tears ran down my face. The hospital staff asked Josh's permission to cease resuscitation and he didn't understand. Jeff had to tell him, that they were asking his permission to stop. He gave that gut wrenching permission, and she was officially gone.
People came in from everywhere, calls were made by others to come, and they did. I remember friends of ours, Jason and Heather, knelt down in front of us and prayed for us. They especially prayed for Josh and I to be able to stay together as we face this... together. I remember, another set of friends, Marc and El, came. They were very close to us and knew our kids well. They threw themselves at us in tears as we all cried together. Our pastors from different past church families, along with our current Pastor Todd, came and read scripture to us. Every prayer, every scripture gave me enough strength to take another breath. My mom insisted on me holding Sarah one last time. I was so distraught with the idea of her body, but her soul not being there, that I didn't want to at first, but she ensured me that I need to and that I would not regret it. I held her. They put on many blankets around her to mask her coldness but I could still feel it. I looked at her and she looked like a beautiful porcelain doll, sleeping so peacefully. I will always remember what it felt like to hold her for that last time and I do not regret it. There was a whole tribe inside and outside of that room. She was passed from person to person, whomever wanted to hold her, was welcome. It was holy ground. I could not tell you how long we were there, or who all was there. But I can tell you who was there, Me and my husband, our family ( and I mean that in every sense) and the Holy Spirit. Lives were changed, for the better. Hearts were softened, eyes became unblinded, and souls were saved.... all because of this little girl's passing. Sarah's story impacted everyone around her, whether it was automatic or it took time to sink in. She impacted people. And that could not have happened without Jesus. He taught me a lesson on how to breathe. He showed me what it feels like to be held in His arms, to feel precious. He is refining me into the diamond He originally made me to be. The key is not to learn to breathe with trials, but through them, for we were made to fly. Trust Him.

"Angel Day"

It has been two years ago, today, that we lost our little baby girl, Sarah, to SIDS. It's amazing how images and thoughts run through your head and hurt you just the same today. But... it's also amazing how merciful our Mighty God has been and still is. The pain of going through something like this is so real. My heart and soul just hurt and ache over her. I miss her so much. Even months after her death, when I couldn't accept my new reality, I would beg God to bring her back to my arms. But I know that because I am a child of God, that because Jesus is my Savior and my Redeemer, that I will see her again. She will not necessarily be my daughter in heaven, (although God knows I let myself think that anyway) but she will be my sister. And as the bible tells us in Luke 20: 36 , ".. for neither can they die anymore, for they are like angels, and they are children of God..."
We all must learn to breathe the way that God originally intended for us to. We must not breathe with our trials, but through them for we are made to fly.