December 23, 2003

Two years ago today we buried our sweet little man. It hurts more now than it did then. I guess because some of the shock has worn off. It's almost as if my heart has lived in a very bad dream for 2 years... but now it must wake up and realize it's all true. I guess my whole life feels that way now and has since Levi left... on the outside I must seem alltogether normal, and to some extent that is true. I've learned to live this way. But on the inside there is a stream of sadness that runs so deep words could never express it. It is a river that winds its way through my soul constantly. Sometimes it is raging and other times it is just a stream but it is always there... always, always, always there.

Our family has been under attack from the enemy lately. Caleb had walking pneumonia for 2 weeks (took his entire Thanksgiving holiday). Then as soon as Caleb recovered Graci started getting sick. Then Jeff came down with what we thought was the flu...after 10 hours in the emergency room we found out that it was hepatitis A. He is very sick. His skin and the whites of his eyes are a (not so) lovely shade of yellow. He stays in the bed most of the day feeling drained of all energy... poor thing is miserable. Graci now has walking pneumonia too... I've had several asthma attacks and breathing is on my list of "things to do" since it's not something that just happens anymore...

I was laying in bed with Graci scratching her back. She was hot with fever and coughing until she "threw up." After a coughing "fit" she looked over at me and said, "don't worry Moma, Jesus will heal me when I get to heaven." Stab!!!! The thought of losing her took me for a ride. Fear gripped me for hours. Oh Lord, I feel like I'm being pressed from every side. There seems to be no place to "come up for air."

My birthday was the 20th of this month. It doesn't feel like my birthday anymore. It feels like the anniversary of Levi's death. Because it is!!!!! I couldn't stop crying the whole day. Every time someone said "happy birthday!" I had to look down to keep from falling apart. I was a dam waiting to break, I still am. My heart is crying and it can't stop. I am just so sad... I know that the rivers rage will calm, probably after Christmas but it will never die until we are all together in heaven. I want so much to praise the Lord in all things while here on earth. But I must say it is very hard right now. I want to be faithful in my darkest hours... but there is a pull in my heart to start asking "why" again. I've learned that looking back is dangerous but I keep doing it lately. I haven't learned how to remember without looking back. I know there's a balance somewhere but I haven't found it yet. All I know right now is a feeling of being lost without Levi. Lost, lost, lost.

I dream of heaven... I hope we all go at the same time. I dream of getting there and standing back and watching Jeff, Caleb, Jonah and Graci see Levi. I dream of their reunion, hugging, kissing, tears of joy! Great, great JOY! I picture my Mom and Dad holding him again... oh the satisfaction I will feel. I see in my minds eye my sisters and brothers, nieces, nephews all running to him. Having their empty "Levi place" filled, not temporarily but forever. I can barely imagine what the "completeness" will feel like. Complete in Christ and as a family again. I can't imagine how I will worship HIM from the center of myself. The river of sadness will be gone and it will never come back again. How grateful I am for the HOPE that Jesus is.

Heaven seems so far away and if I think about it too much I don't really want to live here anymore. So, being faithful is what I must focus on for now. Caleb, Jonah and I were talking the other night. We were talking about being wise with our time... Caleb said, "Yeah, mom, ya know what I want for Christmas from God? " "What?" The wisdom that comes from these children amazes me... "I'm asking God to help me spend my time wisely and teach me faithfulness." Then from the backseat Jonah says, "I've asked God to keep my heart pure and help me to stay on the path of righteousness!" I was blessed more than you could imagine to hear the hearts of my young men, not boys....men and maybe not just men but Knights. I'd love to take credit and say Jeff and I have done such a fine and upstanding job as parents and now we see the fruit of our labors but I can't. These are things that the Holy Spirit teaches the heart. They are instilled only by the hand of God Himself... And the rivers rage fades... for a while.

Let the children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God. Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it. And He took them up in His arms, laid His hands on them, and blessed them.

Mark 10:14-16

Merry Christmas,
jami

December 12, 2003

I run just about every morning. Some days I go 3 miles, some days 10. The number of miles I run is tightly connected to my need to be with God, all alone. The more miles the greater the need. He meets me there and as we run together I feel His pleasure. In a lot of ways my running is a picture of my journey...

Just as it is winter in "real life" it is also winter in my walk. It's cold and hard to motivate myself to leave my warm house to go run in the cold wind... Everyday I have to choose to pursue HIM. It would be so much easier to stay where I am and just "survive." But HE calls me to do more than just get by. He will not let me be a victim. He pushes me to be an overcomer. He pushes me to deny comfortable flesh and satisfy the discomforts of spiritual growth. A lot of times I'm not the least bit interested in being an overcomer... I just want to be normal again.

My run the other morning is a picture of my spiritual place right now... It was really cold and windy. My first mile was hard as usual and I kept wanting to quit, I mean after all it was 32degrees outside. It was a perfect reason to "bail." But I didn't. I figured if I quit today It'd be that much harder to get out there tomorrow. By the second mile my legs were warmed up but my face was frozen. I couldn't feel my ears. By the fourth mile I had snot frozen to my cheeks (I know that's gross but it's true) my hands were too numb I couldn't feel my face when I tried to wipe it off. By the sixth mile I had spit frozen to my face (right under the snot) and my hips were starting to cramp up. Somewhere around the eighth mile my back started to feel queezy and my shoulders were so tight I could hardly stand it. It's not always like that. It's usually a lot more enjoyable but this day was really rough.

I know that was probably a lot more information than you wanted but I have a point in all of it. In our world the Christian life is expected to be perfect from the day we receive Christ. If we make any mistakes the world is there to say, "...and you call yourself a Christian..." In the last two years I have felt this incredible pressure to be good at greif. To handle everything in a way that is always encouraging to others, always godly, always good and right. But I can't. I've had this terrible feeling of being too much and not enough at the same time... Sweet Jesus used that disastrous morning run to show me something. To comfort me. To say "you're doing just fine." My walk with the Lord has been anything but pretty, anything but glamorous. As a matter of fact it's been really ugly and messy. I have spiritual snot and spit on my face. I can't feel, I want to quit, I hurt all over, oh how bad I hurt. But HE has given me what I need to stumble through this ugly mess... I finished my run that day. And even though I felt like I'd had the "stew" beaten out of me, it was good!!!

"Hold fast to what you have until I come." Jesus (Rev. 2:25)

Please pray for us...the holidays are really hard. We all miss Levi so much.

jami

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