wishes

The Cross-stitch I began when I found out I was pregnant.
I finished and framed it for our home.
The butterflies hold much more value now....

There was a time that I believed that wishes were evil.  That "hope" and "prayer" were acceptable...righteous, even....but wishes, they were things out of fairy tales. They seemed secular, out of the church-box...


A "wish" is really a verb-
To "wish", according to Webster is to " Feel or express a strong desire or hope for something that is not easily attainable."


I have wished...


I have wished more in the last month than I have actually "prayed"...
a wish is not something made with the mouth(sorry genie)...but a cry of the heart.


...and in no way did this wish leave out the will of my Heavenly Father. 
He invented the wish. Formed my heart into a being that could choose, could think, could feel.


So, did He create me to wish?


No.


He created me human, to walk with Him in the garden, in perfection, in nakedness, without anything being unattainable, with His face in my presence, with my desires met, without pain, without a reason to "desire hope".


But we are not in that garden.  I do not live in perfection...because I, just like Eve, have chosen again and again to walk in my own knowledge, make my own plans, seek my own will.  If I had gazed into the eyes of the serpent, I would most likely have joined forces with him in order to gain control and power....I am selfish. I am sinful.


So welcome to this earth. This beautiful, sinful earth, where God's kingdom is rising, growing, praising His name...but where the enemy continually lurks waiting to take hold of the unprotected areas of our lives. 


Welcome to the tension....between who we are and who we should be.


Although it may not seem like it, let this be encouragement:
that hoping in Him, doubting Him, arguing with Him, banging on His chest, crawling into His lap...they are all part of relationship-
And THAT is what He created you for.




I leave you with a picture of the "reading room"...Branson's former nursery and now our place of refuge(unless I leave my clean clothes in the chair)...It is being used well.....

Her due date

It is midnight and I am wide awake.
I always wonder at times like these if the Lord is keeping me awake for a reason....does He want to meet me here?
I lie in bed.. Trying to sleep, trying not to dream, trying to pray, playing the occasional scrabble game on my phone....

The date on my phone switches when the hour strikes 12....
Today is March 31st.... Branson's due date.
Of course, it changed a few times, April 3rd, April 1st...

I have never put much faith in due dates...they seem a little silly, actually.

But, snuggled here tonight, I cannot help but weep for missing her. She should be here. I should be miserable, achy, begging for sleep,for new life. I should spend the month of April fantastically happy, sleep deprived, breastfeeding, basking in the glow of oohing and ahhing visitors, kissing toes...

I miss her. I can remember her face, smell her skin, remember how she felt in my arms... And I miss her, more tonight than ever.

Such a feeling should make me doubt that God is good-that He ever loved me, loved her.
Yet, this, now, crumpled and broken, arguing with Him in the dead of night- is the most loved I have ever felt...

"blessed are those who mourn"

A Glimpse

a vision of a pathway,
a door creaking open slowly,
revealing another room,
a wardrobe hiding an adventure.


I strain my eyes, squinting hard to see- 


light,
purpose,
hope,
glory.


through the fog of inconsistency,
the vague mysteries that feed doubt, I squint....


as night gives way to the rising sun, 
as rain gives way to a clearer sky, 
as stones and dirt give way to erupting flowers, 
as bitterness gives way to a forgiving touch- 
softening


so shall I....


Your glory will bloom in me. 
Your purpose will be revealed- snow and ice melting
At Your roar, 
the broken pieces of my heart will be held in the scarred pits of your hands.


So be it.




 - Johnna Bullard 
3/29/11




"A poem ends in a clarification of life- a momentary stay against confusion"- Robert Frost

It has been over a month....

There is no way of knowing how well I am doing. No benchmark, number, scale, grade or rubric to measure the value of my progress.. Our progress.
So, when I am asked how I am, I usually respond with a generic "fine", but for once I am not lying.
I am fine.
I am not bad or good.
I am fine.

By putting a month between Branson's death and today, I am acknowledging the existence of time.. Of movement.... Or life being lived.

God is faithful.
I have hope.. Actual hope.

Can I ask a favor? Will you pray for clarity? Pray for doors to open and doors to close, for peace and oneness as a couple as we parent and plan... For health and rest for our thoughts and minds... For God to complete the work He began in those that have heard and stored her story in their hearts...

I believe You will come......

My soul yearns for you in the night; my spirit within me earnestly seeks you. For when your judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants of the world learn righteousness.  Isaiah 26:9......




He is coming for me.  There is this place inside me that knows that just over the hill, just across the stream, just beyond the clearing my King runs after me.  He battles through evil, slays dragons, climbs mountains to get to me.  


Sometimes I find myself running towards Him.  Sometimes I simply sit in the middle of the field, broken...waiting.  Regardless of what I am doing, HE continues to press forward towards me.  He loves me....He gave Himself for me.  


Even when it rains, even when I am unlovable, even when I cannot see beyond the blind hill...He is there.  

"My soul longs for you, nothing else will do" 

-Jesus Culture

How long, O Lord?

How long, O Lord, will you look on?
-Psalm 35:17 


The days are longer.  There is more sunshine.  It is warm and we can be outside. Our evenings are busy.  I haven't had to cook dinner.  The kids have been obedient, respectful, easy to manage.  People continue to pour into me- bring me food, keep my kids, send me cards....love on me.....


At what juncture, Lord, will you stitch up the last bit of these wounds?  Will you wait...until my knees are sore with prayer...  Are you yearning for my heart to be at peace, waiting on my tears to stop in faith and full trust of you?  Or are you mending and stitching too slowly and carefully for me to notice....will I awake one morning far into the future to realize that I had not known that you had healed me?  Or will you do it tonight?  I prefer tonight.


God is sending messages to me though people, whether it be a kind word, a card, a book, a sweet note....the messages are confirmations of the ways that the Holy Spirit is speaking to my heart.  If I doubt the Holy Spirit, He is kind enough ( and blunt enough) to send me the message twice, through two very different people.  They are sweet ways He is walking this road with me....and I feel His presence even at my lowest.


Lord....You said that I could ask....that I could present my heart, my desire to you.  I did, and you did not give me the desire of my heart.  When I said "your will" I also said what "I desired"....and You did not give me my desire.  So, I am having trouble asking you for what I desire now.....I am even having trouble knowing what my desire is because I fear it is somehow contrary to your desire.  I want to respect Your will...not fear your plans.


I struggle in the mornings.  When I first awake, and I roll over to see that Will is gone, my heart sinks.  My mind replays the events, the tears, the loss, and for a split second I still feel pregnant even.  That moment, while all of the emotions flood my brain, is still really raw.  The kids come to my room, the day begins and I feel almost unable to breathe until I sit with my Savior.  I have been able to spend more time with Him.  Our daily schedule has been cleared...I am not going to sewing class anymore, or doing the other extra activities.... It has been hard and rather antisocial, but it has guaranteed me more time with the Lord.  


I have not had words to pray so I have been re-using Stormie Omartians "Power of the Praying Wife/Mother" to pray for Will and the kids.  Her words have always been powerful and intentional, but now at a time where I feel like I have so few, it has been essential for me.  


These prayers are more like whines and pleads followed by an "apology" to the Lord for being so whiny....
which usually leads to a bit of giggling at how I must look to my heavenly Father....
which leads to the warm and fuzzys....because I remember His LOVE for me.......all of it....
And then the praise begins....


So....How Long, O Lord?......
I will praise You while I wait.

A message from Jaden and Eason....

If Eason had a blog:
He would say that he is tired of talking about Branson.  He is confident she is in heaven, and he sees no reason for crying.  He says he wanted her to be born so he could hold her and she could be in her bed.  He is mad that he is not gonna be a big brother right now.  He says he is not sad, but he "only cries if you cry."   He is forgiving and accepting of our sadness, but he is ready to move on.
















If Jaden had a blog:

She would say she has heard me talking about giving God the glory and seeing the good and His purpose in this season.  But she would say that SHE has not seen the good, and that SHE has not seen any purpose or reason for Branson not being with us.  She would say she is jealous of the other people having babies and that it isn't "fair".  She would say that she wants us to have another baby, but that she would be "scared the whole time I was pregnant." She would say that she also doesn't want us to have another baby, she just wants Branson. She would say she feels guilty that she goes off and has a good time and forgets about her. She would say she is sad.  








Am I teaching them truth?  I hope so.


( And it is only a matter of time until Jaden Lily has a blog....:)  )

Walking into the wind...

There is wind.
It is windy.
No doubt, I am in the middle of wind.


So, the only choices I can make are how to deal with said wind.


I have had a series of better days.  The moments are heavy still, on occasion, and I expect to have some awful, bad days as well. But, for the past few days, I have had bad moments, but good days.  Sometimes I wonder if it is simply the sunshine.  Other times I know that God has enveloped me, calmed me by a sweet word, a peaceful presence or the love of a nearby friend.  


The moments come and I am able to cry or rant when I am surrounded by those I love.  This is why I have continued to be in their presence, have them close, insist on being with someone.  So far, I have not broken down in public or somewhere I am extremely uncomfortable.  I am more likely to cry at home.  This all feels normal.  As normal as it can feel.


I have family having babies.  I have showers to go to.  I have celebrations to attend and tiny feet for Aunt Johnna to kiss. I have kids to raise, a husband to love......This is my wind....


Wind, like most everything else, is good in moderation.  Beach breezes and hurricane gales are both winds....you see my point.  
I approach each day knowing that the gusts change force based on my perspective, my agenda and my faith.  
Standing against the wind is exhilarating sometimes, and other times you just want your hair in place.  Sometimes I want the wind to cool my skin, and other times the wind is icy and stings.  


My God is constant.  He is peaceful and powerful.  I have no concept for such fullness of such extremes. But, yet, He is.  Alpha and Omega.  Beginning and End.  Merciful and Just.  His wind is constant.  It is my willingness, my faith and my submission or lack thereof that change my experience of the wind.  


So, I have decided to walk into His mighty wind- knowing He is God.  Knowing He will protect my heart. Knowing He created the very wind I walk into. I could duck and cover or even shake my fist at the wind- neither would allow me to learn, grow, seek or heal.  

A rainbow

Rainbows are so different when you are an adult.  As a child, there is so much mystery and magic that surrounds the rainbow.  The theology of the rainbow only adds to its radiance.  I remember learning the science and feeling so cheated. I had never wanted to unlearn something so quickly.  Take back your "refraction" and your "spectrum".  Give me back my perfectly painted Godly arch.  


As we began the trip to see my doctor this morning, I all but cursed at the rain. It hasn't gone 3 days without drizzling. I looked forward to seeing my doctor, to feel the completion of being 3 weeks out from the initial loss and pain.  But other than that, this was not a day I really looked forward to- and it was raining....again.


As we walked in, I was physically ill. Will said he felt the sadness fall over him as we parked... Just sadness.


The appointment was uneventful, unless you count the overwhelming support and love of the entire office, from Dr. Rodriguez to the secretary up front.


As we left the parking garage the sun broke free of the clouds.  I felt the mist of the rain as I shielded my eyes from the sun's glare on the hood of the car.  
Sun and Rain..... 


I knew it would be there.....


....because sometime, somewhere I had learned something.  I had learned about refraction...about the spectrum...and that knowledge, that experience told me there would, indeed, be a rainbow.


It was there.  It all of its promise...in all its radiance.  


Thank you, Jesus....for reminding me that what I learn, that what I experience will one day be the knowledge and truth that you use to remind me who You are, who I am, and what I am here for.

I wish I knew

I wish I knew when the waves would reach higher than I can touch.  I am wading deep...in dangerous water anyway.  Like the moment you feel the water lift your body weightless in the deep....
I am in this deep water on purpose.  I don't want to sit safely on the shore.  It is false safety.  There is nothing safe about the denial or self protection involved in sitting on the sand.  
So, I am tossed back and forth as the waves reach higher and higher...because this is where my God rescues me.  This is the place where I get to see Him intervene....in these moments He is evident.


This morning is one of the times that the water reached over my head.  Salt water in my lungs.  No breath. 
My toes lost the sandy surface of the bottom and I am tossed around, nauseous.  My only choice is to float perfectly still, looking up at the sky in hopes that the Savior who consistently rescues me will come rescue me again.  


You may be thinking, Johnna, why don't you swim? Why don't you fight?
Because, I simply don't know how.  I was never prepared for this kind of wave.  I would drown.  




When you pass through the waters, 
   I will be with you.


Isaiah 43:2

Worship....

It is easy to sing:


You are Holy....
Lord, You are Righteous.
You are Worthy....
Jesus, I love you.....
You are the Comforter.
You died for me.


It is harder to sing:


You are good.
You love me.
You are a great God.
Thank you.


I find my heart tensing up at the sound of it coming out of my mouth.  I know it.  I know it deep down in the pit of my stomach, deep within the knowledge of my mind....but even still...It chokes its way out of my throat.  The enemy wants me to doubt it. I don't doubt it, but I do struggle to say it.


Today was my first time back into church. I have been worshiping from the safety of my car, with my kids in the living room, and most passionately from my shower.....the shower washes the tears away quickly and allows me a haven for the submissive weeping as well as the angry cry- you know the one.
But today, standing in front of my Lord, and so many that had prayed for us, I wanted so much to sing of my Savior as just that- the Savior, the comforter, the one that holds me when I hurt.
However, He had such larger plans for my mouth today.  Instead, He wanted me to praise the God He was, is and always will be....GREAT.....over and over and over....


How Great is our God.

How Great is our God.

How Great is our God.

How Great is our God.

over and over and over and over......

I didn't want to.....

but I did.....

and He is.....

A Date with Will.......

We are going on a date.....a real date...with food and just each other's faces to look at......
I am so blessed to have him...I feel the deep need to be with him: one on one...


I also feel the pressure.....Is there anything to fill the gap of what is really on our minds....
I want to be there for him, listen to the other things on his brain, his work, his friends, the desire to fix up the house.  I really do....


 However, there is NOTHING but our family on my mind: 
how are you feeling, how are the kids, should we plant a tree in Branson's honor, is Jaden dealing ok with things, am I burdening you, do you find me beautiful, do you want to talk, can I help, are we having more children, do you feel smothered.......


Can you imagine? Bless. His. Heart.


We will go, we will sit, we will eat....I resolve to listen....to shut my mouth. To be there for him and what he needs.  To rest in the moment and enjoy being.....to Be Still and Know......

Branson's sweet life....in 10 minutes....

Hi Friends....you have seen some of these pictures before....and some you have not.
There are pictures of lighter days, bellies, ultrasounds, Branson's birth, her first bath, and the time we got to spend with her.


 In 10 minutes....that is all it takes to sum up the time she spent on this earth.....The stories that follow her death, however- the multitudes of "ripples" she has made in this pond is immeasurable....


Thank you Jesus for Branson...That she lived, that she was loved, that she has made and continues to make an impact on people you love.

Blessings....A top ten list....

1) God's Amazing Faithfulness in our finances during this time....The generous outpouring from Will's workplace, donations of food, energy, time and money.......


2) The sweet and loving photography from my friend Tracie who was able to document the beautiful body of Branson, her bath, her time with us.....precious....


3) Parents that love and support us....and are there for us......and that also trust our Lord.


4) Time....time together as a husband and wife, as best friends, as lovers and as parents.....


5) Tears from those that mourn with us..those that understand all to well, and those that simply carry weight with us.


6)our kids.....the ones that get us out of bed, cause us to continue to smile and laugh together in the midst of grief.


7) A body of Christ that has met us in our darkest night and pursued us, prayed with us, uplifted us.....


8) Friends that have met with us, babysat me, cried with us, cleaned our house......amazing testimonies of how to love well.


9) Music...United Pursuit, Vince Gibson, Michael Ketterer, Daniel Bashta, Jesus Culture, Hillsong, Raychel Hughes.....without this worship we would have fallen into the pit a month ago....It has sustained us, enriched us and caused us to raise our hands in the living room, dance in the shower, cry into our pillow and pull the car over on the side of the highway......It has been life.


10) Most of all- for the testimony of Branson's life....for the people that have come to know Christ, come back to Christ and have been touched by her life....."so that others may see and know"......

Can we fast forward......?

 It would be nice to be able to know when the rushes of emotion were coming.... It is hard to have them just hit you when you are not expecting it.  It is even worse to spend all day expecting it.


I feel like I am wearing a pair of dark sunglasses.  Anything that might normally be alright or even just a tad disappointing has a tendency to be felt deeply, and can bring a wave of sadness or loss that is almost unbearable. At the same time, I am afraid that those same dark glasses keep me from seeing the brightest parts of each day...each hour, really.  I don't wanna live the months ahead with everything being the same melancholy shade of gray.

eason and Jaden with Branson's temporary marker

My sweet Ashley said last night, "Don't you just want to fast forward?"  The simple answer is Yes....


I have lost a baby before...at 10 weeks. Her name was Amelia.....Are you surprised I haven't spoken of her yet? I am....ashamed almost.  What kind of mother fails to mention the daughter she also lost while grieving the other?  Why do I feel the guilt of moving on from the loss of her.... was it having my Eason that finally closed the door to that pain.  Would it have ever gone away had I not had him?  Will this pain ever go away without filling my arms again with a child?


I have felt the loss before, and even when my dad died suddenly I remember the ache.....But it did settle over time...My God was faithful and he has taught me in the last 5 years more about loss than I ever cared to learn...However, through those times He continued to prepare me, teach me, bless me.....and because of that experience and knowledge of my Father God, I am able to KNOW that there is an end to this level of sorrow.... My heart and Spirit know that that is true....


But, I am aching to fast forward to that point......to be able to stand in the Peace that Passes Understanding.....

A good day.

Yesterday, in the midst of decorating Branson's grave, choosing a box for her keepsakes and a windchime for the kids to hang in their tree- I had a good day..... My heart rested a little.  That is all....just rested a little...in my Spirit.

A space.....to just be....

As you know, Branson's nursery was complete.....everything we needed to bring her home was at our fingertips, down to two tiny little gowns we had purchased just a week before we lost her.  It was beautiful, right off our bedroom....and was an important part of me walking in my faith that month that I carried her- knowing we might lose her.  

In the weeks that have followed, we have struggled with what to do with the space.  Jaden wanted things left alone...content to sit amongst Branson's things, play babydolls in her bed....just be among Branson.

Eason, on the other hand, was confused by the presence of a bed for a baby who wasn't coming home with us.....confused by baby things being around at all.

So, we compromised, left most of the furniture, added a comfy reading chair and put away most of Branson's things.  She is still in the midst of the room, but as I watched the kids bring down their most special books to add to the shelf and sit and read on the rug, I was reminded that this room is Holy.....a place where I told the Lord that I would follow Him to the end......

Last night, in the lamplight, I snapped a picture of the man I love sitting in this room......thank you, Jesus for the healing balm that you are.

Today we spent some time in the room, placing the sweet cards from all of you and her keepsakes into a beautiful bird box....her journal left out so that I can add to the story....and books, books and books for us to read.....what a wonderful space to be...

One 'B'- left to represent all of us....the other B is in Branson's box....

My sewing.....

Every Long Journey Begins with a Single Step

Branson's gown....It is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen

Branson's keepsakes and journal.....

Jaden's letter to Branson.......

Many of you have been asking to read Jaden Lily's sweet letter she read at the burial. She wrote it on Thursday, the day we found out her heart had stopped beating.  She asked for the ultrasound picture of Branson from the preceding Monday....and then went to her room and wrote this beautiful letter.  I was amazed at her emotion and poise in reading it at the burial......she is truly a gift from the Lord.... "Amila" is our Amelia who we lost at 10 weeks in 2006.  My dad, Papa, died in 2007, when Jaden was 6. Her Grandaddy and Grannie died last year, 6 months apart.  These are the people who she knew had welcomed our sweet Branson.....

healing- well.

I am not sure if you have ever experienced doing something the wrong way....but I tend to forget or ignore the natural processes that things are supposed to take. 


For example, in highschool and college when I was supposed to write a rough draft or sentence outline, etc., I would simply write the paper...the Final Draft.  Then, on the computer, I would deconstruct it, piece by piece, detail by detail, error by error until I had, what I considered, to be a decent replica of a 2nd draft, first draft, outline and so on.....It worked, and no one was the wiser....


However, when I injured my right quad in high school, I never took the time off for it to heal. I did not stop punting(which initially injured it), never took a season off, just pushed through with Icy Hot and a lot of ace bandages....Even today, when I occasionally punt a ball or shoot again it twinges...forever scarred by the lack of process I put in to its healing.


This is not how I want to be with Branson. I do not want to be less than what God has in store for me to be. I do not want to slowly process something on my own that He wants me to give to Him, and I do not want to quickly push through something that He wants me to slowly digest.  


I want to heal well.


There is no manual on this process, because no other person is Johnna.  There is no person that has my experiences, fears and wounds...There are similar people, but no one is me......and so it has to be all new, all real, all me.....


I have finished Angie Smith's book about losing her sweet Audrey, her 4th daughter after her twins and daughter Kate......It has been so helpful.  She also has a blog and yesterday I visited it for the first time. It had just felt wrong to see her healing 3 years later without witnessing her pain first.  I pulled up the blog and gasped- hand over my mouth- when I noticed, for the first time, another name in her list of children.....Charlotte.......tears instantly began streaming down my face.


Another sweet baby girl in their family......


It was too much....I broke instantly like the bandaid that I had been afraid to remove finally was ripped off- and it hadn't hurt nearly as bad as I had feared it would.  They were able to have another child- a daughter even.  This woman, that I trusted because she knew how to grieve well, had been able to lean on the Lord, prepare her body, conceive and carry another child....who lived.  She has been able to continue healing well....


I haven't yet connected her loss and the birth of her sweet Charlotte....There are 2 years worth of blog entries to read....but just knowing of Charlotte's life allows me to stop and focus on my Branson without allowing the fears and what-ifs to drown it out. 
 I just want to grieve my baby girl.....and talk and not talk, and praise Him, and ask questions, and rest and share and love my children well, and be sensitive to Will's needs....I want to heal well...as we follow where the Lord leads us......

..so we fix our eyes on not what is seen.....

If You are who you say you are, why did You not do what I know You can do....


If You are the Healer and Great Physician, why did You not heal.......


If You love us, want our devotion and faith, why did You not Love us by Blessing our devotion and faith......


Why, Lord.......




Are you stuck here with me........These are the questions that swirl late in the night....when I awake suddenly or even today as I did laundry.
It was so easy to believe in Him 5 months ago, as I began to see my belly swell....when I found that I would share the week of my delivery with two dear friends, when we told Jaden Lily over Cracker Barrel breakfast, when I was blessed to hear the news that my three dear "sisters" were due within months of me......as we dreamed of finding out if this baby was really the little girl Will had hoped for.


Today, it isn't as easy.  He is the same God He was those months ago, and I love Him today just the same.  It is so hard to end a discussion with "I don't know" or "Fine"....that is how I have been ending my heart's discussions with the Lord.  They are something like this:


God, You said if I asked in Your name......
It isn't fair( as I pack away the quilt I made her, the mobile from her room)
You said to trust You.
I wanted people to see You, Lord...What a miracle You could have done. They would have believed, Lord.  You could have shown yourself.  
Why did you not?  
I. Don't. Know.


and sometimes even:


How could I ever really trust you again.  
How am I supposed to feel that there is a bigger picture when all You let me see is the incomprehensible mystery that is Your will.
How do I know that I didn't just fail this test and trial you gave us.
I don't WANT to be an example of faith, testament to the faithfulness of the Lord, write a book, give advice, tell my story. I WANT my baby.
FINE.


There is much left unseen......and I am not sure the light gets brighter. I can't even be sure that this isn't just the beginning of a bigger, more heartbreaking trial. Could this be the beginning of many losses. Could we be headed towards the loss of yet another child? Is this the beginning of an empty feeling I will continue to have because we will have no more? Who can say that this will get lighter, better over time.....I do not pretend to see what is unseen.....


The past few days I have watched my children like a hawk, tended bumped heads like they were ER emergencies and worried at the slightest tummy ache. The realization that they are HIS and that at any moment He may take them home has been almost unbearable.  How do I balance respect of His will and not live my life in fear of it just the same.....


I have to release it...release it all before it attacks my body with bitterness.  As I struggle to pack away her things, make boxes of maternity clothes, pacifiers and baby blankets, I am struck with the realization that I am physically holding my breath as if unable to breathe in what is happening.  Will I not feel the same when I look at the boxes piled in the basement. Will I become obsessed with it?


So I am here standing at the edge of the woods, knowing she is no longer lost in them, yet unable to leave the edge...the edge where I stood believing, trusting, gathered in the arms of My Father....willing to follow Him anywhere......I wish I did not have to follow Him deep into them but I did. And He did heal her..... in the unseen.....

Therefore, We do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes on not what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary and what is unseen is eternal.

II Corinthians 4:16-18

Weeping...and waiting for Morning.

The weeping continues...off and on.....as I push forward.....and try to map out the rest of the Spring....Jaden has auditioned for a play, and tonight begins Eason's t-ball season. I am so thankful to have them...to dive deep into their lives, pray for them.  They continue to make me laugh, and they continue to help me make it through the day. 


 However, the only place I want to be is under the arm of my husband.  This is such a new feeling.  I have always loved him. But I have also always been extremely independent.  Even in crisis and sadness, I have usually watched myself draw from many others' strength. I usually tend to process information and thoughts as a way to grieve or heal. I have not ever found myself in the position of needing the actual physical closeness of another human being for security.   

He has been amazing this week. Crying and holding me...fixing breakfast for the kids, talking about the fears and anxieties of the future, preparing to go back to work.  He and Jaden had planned a hike for last Saturday to do Rainbow Falls in the Smokies. She had really been looking forward to the daddy time. Since his job gave him the week off, they were able to go yesterday. 

What an important trip..proclaiming that she was valuable, that she was secure and loved, that she could be listened to.  

And now, after several deaths in the family, miscarriage and even financial hardships, not to mention 6 years of marriage, I find myself unable to stand on my own two feet.  






As I write, Will is at Home Depot, a trip he wanted to make alone to fix a few things at home....I reluctantly agreed to stay home while Eason napped, but I am desperate for him to come home. He has been gone only 30 minutes.  I am smothering him.....quite literally. I know he would say I am not, and that he is there for me..whatever I need. I know that he needs the space, the distraction, the movement out from under the weeping.  I want him to have that.....but it is so hard to be away from him.  


If nothing else comes from this trial in our lives, there will be glory given to the Lord in our marriage. I resolve to never forget the grace that my Will has given me in this....the amount of Love and Thankfulness that I feel for him in this season.  I choose to love him every day......for what he has been to me, through the good and the bad, sickness and health, poorer and....poorer........I choose to glorify the Lord in this marriage...even if I had NO idea what I was really promising in those vows as I stood- a broken and bleary-eyed 22 year old- to promise him my wholeness.  I vow again to love him continuously..... and to learn how to do it without smothering him.


God grant me the strength to even attempt such a vow. 

daddy loves Jaden

Branson's Burial....

We decided to bury Branson. I know that doesn't seem like a decision, but it was. With all of the hope that had filled our hearts about her healing, a burial wasn't something that I wanted to discuss in length. I had said a few weeks ago, if she did not make it in this world, we would not have any sort of service, however if she did make it, but not survive, and people had been able to meet her, hold her etc, we would have a funeral.  Some things are just to painful and foreign to even predict.  People HAD met her....loved her......prayed for her.....walked the road with us....We were not prepared for the love and outpouring we received...and MUCH less prepared for the amount of love that people had simply- for her.


My dad died suddenly in 2007 and was buried awkwardly and thankfully in one of the plots that my Grandparents had bought previously in a cemetery I had no ties to. We were so thankful that it was available, but it was always sort of separate and lonely.  Needless to say, we had no way of knowing that this cemetery would suddenly be a place we were forever again tied to.... Last year, we bought a house just a mile up from the cemetery.  In the same cemetery they have plots reserved for babies that do not survive this earth, and we realized that Branson would be close to our home, close to my Papa's grave...a cemetery that my kids were already comfortable with.  We spoke to the cemetery and although not cheap, they were able to come up with something we could afford to make payments to.  
In the meantime, our friends at Mynatt's funeral home prepared Branson for burial calling us many times for confirmation that she was perfect, dressed in her tiny yellow flowery sleeper and white cap.  They were so gracious and generous, as they have always been.....we truly were blessed to have them take care of us.


In a way, it is comforting to drive by the cemetery where they both are.....


We awoke Sunday to some rain, and then it began to pour. Our yard was soaked, the clothes I had lain out for the kids were not going to work, and we struggled to even know how to prepare for this day.  I struggled to find anything to wear....What was I supposed to do....Look pregnant? because I still did....not look pregnant? because I wasn't.... what about the children who would be there: who knew what had happened, saw a box, saw my stomach? Wouldn't that be confusing? Was I supposed to wear make up, look pretty, be awake, be crying, be social.....what was this even going to look like......


Will had prepared what he would say(it is posted on the blog as "words from Will")...even Jaden had words to place at this event. I had nothing.  I didn't know what to say and looking back, said some very strange things to people that day.....the silence was too loud, and I felt the need to fill it...


We arrived as it continued to rain.  As we neared the cemetery, we talked about the lack of activity that there would be for a Sunday in the rain... Then, as we rounded the corner, we saw two long lines of cars....Surely, this was not just for Branson...... As we began to recognize cars, it became evident that, yes, these cars were representing people that were here for us...here for her....it was almost unbearable...the amount of love that rushed though us as we waited to near her tent, her tiny white casket, the small peach flowers, the surrounding mud and grass.....




People continued to show, to walk from their cars....without umbrellas...the rain had cleared.

There sat her casket, and beside it we placed her "duck".... the toy and comforter we had sought and purchased especially for her.  Jaden Lily made a bead charm that simply stated "Branson Has Life"....


I had no words, but I did have song. I knew what my heart wanted to say and had asked Raychel to sing....knowing that this may be too difficult of a favor...and then, it happened....The worship my heart wanted to hear... as      Jo played the guitar and Michael and she sang..

"There is power in the name of Jesus...to break every chain.."
This had been my prayer and the chains had been so many things...  They had been kidney failure, and limbs that would not release. They had been fluid stuck within brain spaces and umbilical restriction. They had been my bitterness, my lack of faith, my anger and jealousy. Now the chains were around the disbelief, defeat and disappointment that my heart felt.  Take them, Lord Jesus...that is NOT the person I was created to be...that will NOT be what defines the rest of my life, my marriage, my parenting.......Why? because HE loves me....that's why.

They continued to sing.


"He is jealous for me....Loves like a Hurricane, I am a tree.
Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
and I realize just how Beautiful You are and how Great Your affections are for me.
He Loves Us, oh How He Loves Us........"


We wept. As Will rose to speak, Eason instinctively followed. He stood beside Will as he spoke and even gently touched his hand to her casket.  Will spoke- the most healing and beautiful words that I had ever heard.  My husband, the Father of my children, her Daddy.....the man that God had gifted me with......My heart bled for him, and at the same time I have never been more satisfied or proud of him in my life. 

As he stood behind, holding her up, Jaden Lily read the letter she had written about Branson the day she found out we had lost her.  It was delicious, full of truth.....and full of sadness...








"I cried when I heard she was in the womb. I laughed when she kicked my hand. Now I don't know whether to laugh or to cry..she is in    Heaven."


My cousin and our friend both closed in prayer. Their prayers were cries of comfort and praises for the mercies that God had already poured out.  They were both beautiful.


As it concluded we began to filter through the crowd to hug and cry with all of those that had come. It was the most overwhelming experience of my life....not unlike the fog that a wedding reception can be.....only catching glimpses of long-time friends that I had no words for, close friends that I seemed to barely see that day and family members that simply could not bear the grief.  As we all waded through the mud, many pointed out that the rain had stopped.....it had...and there was even a patch of sunlight.....
I wished it had mattered more to me..the weather just seemed to mimic the unexpected nature and mystery of my God.  The following day, a Monday, it would storm and rain all day...enough to flood all the nearby creeks and rivers....my God was experiencing what I was experiencing...because He loved me....enough to know He was right and sovereign and still scoop me up in His arms and cry with me.

People began to slowly drift away.

Will needed to spend a few more moments there. Will pulled me away, and I am so glad he did.  The time we spent in those last few moments at her grave were beyond precious. I was also able to pull Eason aside and I gave him some words to repeat.  
"Branson, I love you. You are in heaven with Jesus. We miss you. You are safe and not sick."

I was so grateful to have those moments there. Will lingered a few more minutes and we left......and drove home.... a mile down the road.  I have attended children's funerals before. The first one when I was very young when a young baby boy died. I watched as his mother and father openly wept for him.  It is so powerful to watch the stories of others unfold.  This same family decided to adopt a beautiful little girl in their later life, after raising their own children....these experiences and openings into people's lives shaped who I am, who God sculpted me to be.....your stories are so important.......