So we were challenged this past Sunday by our pastor to share our "eye Witness" Story of my firsthand account of the risen Jesus. I've been thinking about this all week, and tried multiple times to log onto my blog to write it, but my computer couldn't find 'connectivity'--basically with my internet here at the house, you never know if it'll work or not. So all week I've been reading, watching other preachers' sermons, and thinking about my journey.

Before

I was raised in church. Christ Lutheran Church in Hagerstown, Maryland, I believe on Cleveland Ave. I attended Sunday School, youth group, I remember singing in the choir for a year or two. I remember learning about Jesus from a very early age. 

And then life happened, as it often does. Everything I knew changed, when I was around 16 my parents divorced. I knew Jesus was there in my life, but I turned away from him. And that's hard to admit. 

In my mind, I was living my life, having a good time, making moments count. But I was lost. At 20, I dropped out of college, moved home, and got pregnant. This was my first wake up call. Having my oldest son, Karter, changed my life. This ride I was on, carefree and full of sin, was no longer just about me. I now had this responsibility of another life. 

Fast forward a few years, I had met my hubs, had a few more kiddos and knew that we needed Jesus in our lives. I was raised in church, and wanted my children to be raised in church as well. We had a wonderful pastor at Hancock United Methodist, felt connected with him, with our church, and with God. Pastor Jensen baptized us, married us, and lead beautiful heart-felt sermons that spoke to me each week. 

But as things often do--life happens. Pastor Jensen got moved to another church. At this time, I was going back to school to finish my degree to become a teacher. I was working full-time, going to school, and raising 3 little people (and a hubs!). I was exhausted, to say the least. So when Pastor Jensen left, and not feeling the same connection with the new pastor, it was just too easy not to attend church regularly--or at all. 

Then

As many of you know, May 4, 2017 happened. My beautiful, healthy, surprise 5th child, at the age of 140 days (4 1/2 months) died, peacefully in his sleep. There was no rhyme or reason to his death. We live in a messed up world, full of sin--and often, unexplainable things happen. 

As we were waiting to be able to see our baby boy, before the coroner and the police officers took him away, I remember sitting in the ambulance with the local EMT and pastor that was on call. I'm not 100% sure of the exact wording of the pastor, but I think she said something to me of the effect that God doesn't give us more than we can handle, or everything happens for a reason. And I remember looking at her and saying---being a single mom was hard, and going back to school and finishing my degree was hard. But this? My son dying, was unimaginable and unfair--how would I ever get through this? 

I will never forgot, driving home that Friday May 5th, from the funeral home, sobbing, asking my husband--how are we ever going to get through this?

Now before I tell you how he answered, I have to tell you about my husband. He is amazing, seriously amazing. He didn't grow up in a church like I did. And to be honest, he agreed to start going to church years ago with me and the kids, but we never really talked about our faith or God or what he believed. So I never really knew where he stood with Jesus.

So back to that car ride, he looked at me and said, "Well I guess we have to turn toward God, and have faith that we will see Jayse again someday."

After

I mean wow, talk about a turning point for me. He was exactly right, and from that moment on, I was changed. I knew that with Jesus in our lives, we would endure this heartache. With the strength of Jesus, we would wake up each morning and rejoice in his promises. I would be lying if I said I still didn't question, if I still wasn't grieving my Jayses' death, if I said I was at peace with going forward with my life without him. 

But I can say that with the relationship I'm growing with God, he is giving me the strength to get through, to get by, and to go on. 

I've meant to write this in previous blog posts, but it always slips my mind. YOU are welcome to attend church with my family and I. YOU are welcome to e-mail or message me and I will pray for you. YOU are welcome to contact me and we can chat about whatever is on your heart 💙

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Momma with a Teaching Mission

80 days it has been. Every single one of them I've woken up hoping this was just some sort of dream, in which I was to learn a lesson. My life would be forever changed, I would learn my lesson, and get to go back 80 days ago and this terrible, horrible thing would have never happened.

When I wake up each morning, I immediately check the pack 'n play (which is still in our bedroom) to see if this nightmare is over. I think, today--today's going to be the day he's back. 

It's not, and I suppose I am starting to realize this is my new reality. 

Yes, luckily, I have pictures and videos of Jayse, 269 to be exact, but they will never be enough. I have a beautiful portrait drawn of Jayse in the dining room, and an amazing picture painted of the sun setting over the ocean with a rainbow in the sky, with his name written in it. I have pictures of Jayse plastered everywhere in our living room, his face is even on a blanket over my couch. In fact as I sit here, his eyes are looking back at me, from that blanket.

I have 'good' days and not so good days. Idle time is difficult. Being a passenger in a car is difficult. My mind constantly goes to Jayse. Even when I'm busy, I'm pre-occupied thinking about him. This is hard to describe to anyone that has never lost anyone.

And up until my grandfather died a few years back, I had never lost anyone. Then my grandmother died. With both of my grandparents, it was difficult, but it was also expected.  I knew one day they would pass. After their deaths, I missed them immensely. But losing Jayse has been completely and utterly different than that. Maybe because it is out of order for a parent to lose a child. Maybe because he wasn't sick, and he was perfectly healthy. Maybe because he truly changed me, being pregnant and having him softened my hard heart. He was my angel, here on Earth, in all aspects of that word--his life forever changed me, as well as his death is the reality that plays on repeat every second of every day.

I continue to pray for peace, and comfort, and guidance.  Know that you are not alone in your struggles, whatever they may be. Our God is there for us-- he loves us and cares about us. Matthew 5:4 says, Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. I have found great comfort in growing my relationship with God. My husband and I have been reading the Bible, as well as reading Draw a Circle by Mark Batterson, which is a 40 day prayer challenge. I have found comfort in praying and have felt God's love surround my family and I. 

This pain in my heart will forever be there, but the promises of our Lord is what get me through each and every day.

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Momma with a Teaching Mission

 Not every day is a horrible day. I'm just like you. We each are dealing with something, that is weighing on our hearts.

But in the past 75 days, there has been some silver linings. And I thought it was important to share those too. Because this grief thing, it's not all sad. I mean yes, it is sad. It's awful, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, and I would do anything to change it, take it back, and have things not work out this way. But I don't have that option, so seeing the silver linings are a must. Or else I would drive myself crazy, and that doesn't help anyone (myself included).

There have been people come into my life in the past 2 months that I have been so thankful for. Some of these people I was just acquaintances with before, and now I consider them a friend. Some of these people have stood with me and been a listening ear for me in my darkest moments, a shoulder to cry on, or a text message away, and I am so and forever thankful to them. I have been truly blessed with amazing friendships that have blossomed, as well as been rekindled and I am so very thankful.

The past 2 months has brought my family closer. I am not proud of the fact that over the years, I have been hard headed and just down right impossible to get along with. But thankfully I have an amazing family that has shown me so much grace and been there for me as a sounding board, guiding words, and an example to me of what having faith looks like -- I have been changed by them, and I am forever grateful.

The past 2 months have been a roller coaster of emotions and feelings toward God. I've questioned, begged, pleaded, and prayed daily. Many people don't understand. They don't have to. We are all on our own journey, and we all have to get right with the Lord. You may not understand me or my faith or my realtionship with God, and that's ok. I just hope that through me and my relationship, you can get inspired to have a relationship with our Holy Father as well.

The thing is, here lately, I was starting to question, was I saved? Was I going to see Jesus and experience heaven and get to hold my baby again? In church, our pastor has been preaching about getting saved, and if you think or question if you're saved, you need to have a conversation. So I had that conversation this week with one of the great pastors at our church(who is another silver lining to all this). I have gone to church for as long as I can remember. I've always believed in Jesus, and that he is the son of God, and that he died for our sins, and that we are all sinners. But I still worried that I wasn't currently on the right track to getting into heaven someday. I just wanted to make sure, I wanted to have someone tell me YOU'RE GOOD, YOU'RE IN, HERE'S A STAMP OR A TICKET, YOU'RE ON THE LIST! But that's not how it goes. Only I (and Jesus) know what is in my heart, but I will tell you that having that conversation with my pastor this week laid the foundation to the peace I have felt. The past 7 days I feel like I have been pointed into the direction God sees fit for me and I know that I have been saved. 

At night, I pray with my children. I have done this for as long as I've had children, so about 12 years. Before that I prayed by myself, in bed, right before drifting off to sleep. And as long as I can remember, I have prayed the same prayer. I have prayed for God to use me to reach to others. I have prayed for him to show me the way and I told him that I would do the work. I feel like that prayer is now unfolding, as I hope to continue to reach out and give others hope.

The past 75 days have been a relentless torment to go on and to keep on keeping on. But I've never been a quitter. As long as there in breath in my body I will continue to sing the praises of our God. It is because of him, and his promise, that I will live eternally in heaven with him, and my Jayse again.

There's always a silver lining, you just have to be willing to look.

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Momma with a Teaching Mission

So I've started this post a few times, but the reality is, I couldn't find anything meaningful to say, that I thought would help others. So I just didn't write anything. Well I didn't just NOT write anything. I typed random thoughts, in hopes that my struggles and questions would help you with whatever you may be dealing with.

This week was probably the hardest week since Jayse left this world. The 4th of July marked 2 months since Jayses' death. And this week will be the 15th--which he would be turning 7th months. I feel like I've said this before, but everything has felt foggy up until the last week or so. And the reality that this isn't just some terrible nightmare is really starting to set in.

He should be sitting up unassisted, starting to say his first words, crawling or scooting, have a few teeth, eating all new things. But he's not. I didn't want to be depressing in this post, but, this is me and how I've been feeling. I cry. I feel my children look at me like is she going to cry? Is she alright? Should I ask her if she's ok? And if they do ask me I snap--no I'm not alright. Which I know isn't how I should react to their concern, cause when some Random Stranger asks me if I'm alright I politely respond, I'm great. Which we all know is a lie.

So far this summer has been filled with running kids to camps and ball practices. All star games and baton twirling parades. I am thankful to be super busy. It helps keep my mind engaged on other things. But every time I see a baby, I immediately try to guess (to myself) how old they are. Then I think, is that what Jayse would be doing right now? Would he have that much hair? Would he be chattering?

This wasn't supposed to happen. My healthy, chunky baby wasn't supposed to die. My surprise baby that I was so thrilled and excited to be expecting last year at this time, he was still supposed to be here.

I knew the time-hop reminder was coming. The notification on my Facebook on time-hop popped up. Yesterday time-hop showed me my post from a year ago, when I announced to the Facebook community that SURPRISE--we were going to have another baby. That was like the gut punch to the end of a really crappy week.

I think of myself as a decent human being. But I often wonder, what did I do to deserve this?

I would trade my life for his, but not just that---I would trade your life for his. I would absolutely do anything to have him back. To kiss his little cheeks. to snuggle him and love on him, just to spend one more minute with him. 

I hang on to God's promises that I will see him again. That's what get me through the day. That's what gets me up in the morning. I have constant reminders that Jayse is spending eternity in heaven, waiting for me, and the rest of his family to arrive.

💙💙💙💙Blessings to you and the trials you are facing, you are not alone xoxo💙💙💙💙

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Momma with a Teaching Mission