In music, a grace note is a note that is held for a brief moment...barely touched on the piano. "Grace Notes" seems like a fitting name for this blog. Our lives changed when I carried our daughter, Grace, for 9 months only to hold her (in my earthly opinion) for a brief moment. She lives in heaven with her Savior. If only that comfort, that sure hope we have, would take away the pain of missing her.

"As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things." Ecclesiastes 11:5

We are always thankful for Grace.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Dear Grace

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Dear Grace,

On May 20, the day you were born and went to heaven, we decided to have a private memorial service for you at home with your 3 sisters. We made so many unimaginable decisions that day. We were planning to bring you home with us, not for God to take you home to heaven so soon.

We believe now that God gave us this time to rethink our decision. After bringing your earthly remains home on July 23, we knew that it was necessary to remember you and let our family and friends see you by having a memorial service at church.

Pastor came out to our home 2 weeks ago and helped us plan your service. We chose some of our favorite hymns: Children of the Heavenly Father, In Christ Alone, Amazing Grace, and Go My Children with My Blessing. The choir sang In Christ Alone and Day by Day.

We asked the Sunday School children to sing “I am Jesus' Little Lamb”. This is Heather's favorite song, and we wanted your sisters to be a part of your memorial service. The day that dad brought me home from the hospital, Angie said that Heather was swinging and singing this song at the top of her lungs. Heather told Angie that she wanted to hold you in her arms, and she cradled her arms as if she was holding you. Angie said that Jesus was holding you in His arms up in heaven. When Heather heard this, she clapped her hands and was so happy. Last week before the Sunday School children practiced their song, I told Heather that she needed to sing really loud so that you would hear her. She said, “If I sing really loud, will Grace come home?” I told her that you were already home.

We found a picture of Jesus holding a baby against His chest and had it put on the front of the service folder. This picture brings me so much comfort. In the front of church, we displayed a picture of your feet with the poem that dad wrote shortly after you went to heaven. We included pictures of you when I was still carrying you, pictures of you before you went to heaven, and a picture of you and me when you were with Jesus. Your baptismal certificate, a plaque that has your name on it, and the plaster castings of your praying hands and feet were also displayed. In the center of everything was the wooden box that holds your earthly remains.

We invited all of our family, friends, and neighbors. It was time to share you with everyone.

Today, August 8, has been a day that I've been anxiously anticipating for a few weeks now. I had no idea what to expect. I wasn't sure that I'd even be able to make it through the service. Dad and I felt all of the prayers coming from everyone. We were given amazing strength today.

Pastor had a comforting message for all of us. We knew that he would. I feel that because of you, Grace, some of our friends that we haven't seen in church since Easter came to church today. Everyone struggles with something. Hopefully, they were able to realize that even through their trials, we must continue to praise God. We pray that everyone's faith was strengthened, because of you, by the Holy Spirit.

Many of our friends said that your service was perfect—from the Scripture passages to the hymns we sang. Our friends also thanked us for sharing you with them. I never imagined how important this service would be to us and to so many others.

After leaving church today, dad and I agreed that this was absolutely the right thing to do. We feel a sense of peace. This doesn't mean that we'll feel better tomorrow. Tomorrow and the days to follow will be just as difficult as yesterday and today, but we know that we'll make it through this and we'll be with you again.

Love,

Mom
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Some might think that we've fallen off the face of the earth. I don't remember ever being good at keeping in touch with others. Calling, writing, or sending cards hasn't been my strongest point. We've felt it was necessary to stay hidden behind our hill the last 2 years. It's how we have been able to survive...to somehow keep going when our summer plans drastically changed in May '10. Bob has always had the God-given knack for building things. He amazes us with his talent. I've built plenty of walls inside of myself without a hammer and nails...walls that need to come down. The only way I feel that I can do that is by writing. My mind goes blank when I try to talk...so many thoughts and no way of putting those thoughts into words except on paper.

Grief is such an unpredictable roller coaster ride of emotions. Everyone means well...we know that. We all want to say or do the right thing...some do, some don't. Some aren't able to overcome the awkwardness of being around someone whose baby died. We make others too sad, so it's just easier for them to stay away...easier for them. The subject is avoided and that has been more devastating for me than watching Grace die in my arms. Again...everyone means well. In the past, I've avoided others using the same poor excuses we have often heard, "I didn't want to upset you," "I don't want to make you cry," I didn't know what to say." Pretending it didn't happen doesn't work. Acknowledgement means everything. Seeing silent tears from a friend standing off to the side meant more to me than listening to the thoughtless chatter of someone who felt it was better to say something rather than nothing. That probably doesn't make sense, but many things on this earth don't.

Nothing I say is meant to hurt or blame anyone. I don't talk much about our daughters who we get to share our lives with. They are not my struggle. Life after Grace is, at times. I don't talk much about the loving support we have received either. I need to talk about the things that cloud my head...the things that keep the walls up. This isn't about me or anyone else. It's about how I can glorify God through this.

We no longer try to wrap our minds around God's plans for us. We just trust Him...and it's not easy. Our faith continues to be refined every day. For that, we are thankful.

What I share here will be difficult. I don't open myself up to many. I'm too afraid of what others will say or won't say. Maybe this will give others a better understanding of what goes on inside my head. If you think you've figured me out, please let me know, because I'm still trying to understand me.

As I just said, I want to glorify God through this. I want others to see that side of me. Some do and many don't. I continue to have a difficult time rejoicing on the outside, but I do. I have joy and peace but it is no longer the unquenchable joy and peace we long to find here on earth. My joy is found in the sure hope of heaven...the sure hope of seeing our loved ones again as we continue to miss them. It's difficult surviving someone that we imagined sharing our lives with. Thankfully, Grace shared her entire life with us, and we know without a doubt, that she lives in heaven with her Savior.