It's happened.

   Randy and I are officially those cheesy parents who sit on the couch after the kids are in bed and grin stupidly at each other and start in with all of the "Can you believe what Jocelyn said today?  Oh that was just the cutest thing ever."

   "Oh I know, and when Charlotte just came running to you, exclaiming 'It's a big one!' about her poop? I just can't get enough of that."

   And we recount the funny tales of the day, the dinnertime conversations, the great achievements and the priceless little quotes and we both can't get over how much we love them right now.  And I know, I know, it's all making you a bit squeamish right now and kind of want to scratch out your eyeballs a little, but too bad, because it's TRUE.

   We are just loving the stages of their lives right now.  Every single bit of it.  Now, does that mean that every day is perfect?  Flawless?  Without bad behavior or discipline?  Obviously not.  That would be pretty silly to assume.

   It just means that we're grateful for all of it.  And yes, even for the not-so-wonderful parts, because we still GET TO BE THEIR PARENTS.  No one else gets that privilege.  They are ours.  OURS!  And I am just so thankful (now remind me of that tomorrow when the potty training one has an accident and the older one thinks she's the boss of everything).

   But for now, I'll go kiss their angelic sleeping faces and breathe in GRATITUDE that I get the honor of this role.  I get to be Mama to them.  For all my flaws and faults and trust me, there's many, I still am their one and only mama, and always will be.

What a generous, generous God we serve.

   I don't normally post on Sundays but I don't normally spend Sundays sick at home, either.  I'm hoping that this cold will be gone by tomorrow, but who knows.  It feels like my immune system has been an absolute pansy lately, bending and breaking at the littlest whim.  Just last month I had a bout with what felt like the stomach flu, and now this month it's severe chest/head cold nonsense.  The girls are fighting it too, and we only hope that Daddy doesn't fall victim next.

   In any case, I am finding things to be thankful for in spite of circumstances, because in the light of other people's circumstances right now, I have nothing to complain about.  Ever.

   I was shocked to hear that an acquaintance of mine, so beautiful and pregnant and expecting her first child with her husband, reached her due date so full of hope and expectation and now find themselves in a pit of grief so dark and deep I'm sure that it seems there is no way out.

The loss of their first-born child. 

  I won't name them, or share the details, because it just feels that it wouldn't be fair.  To tell their story when it is only theirs to tell.  What I will say is that my mind and heart have been aching and grasping at straws to try and avoid the 3-letter word that always seems to creep in and find me……..Why?  Why?! In a world where so many women are aborting their babies or abusing their children, and this child would have been raised in such a loving, nurturing, Christian home.  This child would have been taught about Jesus.  This child would have been loved.  Why.

   So this morning in lieu of going to church, we watched Louie Giglio's sermon on Hope: When Life hurts Most and it was so timely. (That's only part one, you'll need to look up part 2 as well) It's not that there are "answers" to the questions.  To the WHY.  But there is a cross that we can cling to.  There is hope.  Things cannot be tied up in neat little bows, or put on bumper stickers to sum up all of Christianity.  But there is an anchor in the storm, that we can hold to.  That is all I know.

   I have been thinking of her and her family, non-stop over the past couple of days.  I cannot even begin to imagine the darkness and the emptiness and the pain they must be feeling.  And it has brought a new battle all its own that I am facing…..guilt.  Raw, throbbing guilt for the moments, however fleeting or lingering, in my pregnancies that I just….wished I wasn't.  Moments that I regret, but moments that happened none the less.

But if I let it, the guilt begins to engulf….to overwhelm and drag me down.

Guilt for frustration with my children.
Guilt for the times I've made mistakes.
Guilt for the times I've coveted someone else's life, and the jealousy that consumed me.
   For the times that I wished for a different stage of life.  More specifically, the stage we were in before children.  Guilt for the times I haven't stopped to give thanks.  To count my blessings.  Guilt for feeling like a victim, when I can't even begin to comprehend the pain of loss.

   And so instead of getting swallowed up in guilt, I will pray.  I will pray for them, and that they will soon find a beam of light to pierce through all of this black.  But I will also pray and give thanks to the Father for His goodness, for His many blessings.  I will try and carry this thought with me through the days, the months, the years, come what may.  Through the potty training and the disobedience and the sickness and the whining, through the sleepless night and the moments I wish I wasn't a mother……... I will try and hold this near and clutch it close to my heart and whisper throughout it all………thank-you Jesus.

  Thank-you for my children, come what may.  Thank you for whatever moments you gift me with them, for however long.  Because each one truly is just that….a gift.  No matter how trying, how testing, how difficult.  It is pure and simply, a blessed gift.

And I will hold my little ones just a little bit tighter today.