Tag Archives: challenges

Mary’s heart (Had I known?)

Leave a reply

Many years ago, I attended a Christian mom’s conference. In attendance was a recording artist, who I wish that I could remember her name. At the conclusion of the two-day event, she sang a song that asked and answered what she would have done if she was Mary, the mother of Jesus. Her song moved me to tears. At the time, I had just recently used my experience as a miscarriage mom to help one of my friends through the loss of a baby. The song ripped the recently formed new scab on an old scar.  Losing a child at any point is a tender wound for life.

This week a new friend shared a question that brought her some comfort following the death of her daughter. “Would you have done anything differently if you had known?” I think this is a question grieving parents often ask themselves. I know that I do. Of course, there are trillions of things we would do differently. What the heart would choose, however, is so vastly different than life’s reality. What truly matters is God chose us to be the parents of Reed (and our three miscarried babies), and we loved them all the very best ways we could.

Today marks an anniversary in God’s love story that is both mourned and celebrated by Christians worldwide, now and throughout history. Symbolically representing the day Jesus had his last supper, The Last Supper, with his disciples, we remember the words he tried to convey about what was coming. For me, like the words sang at that conference, I have to wonder if Mary understood what he meant. Did she know? If she did, would she have done anything differently?

I have been thinking what her thoughts would have been like for about a month now.

Tomorrow, our church will host a Good Friday service with various members acting out what it might have been like for witnesses to Jesus’ life and death. I am one of the participants, playing Jesus’ mom. I will admit to being honored in the asking, but will readily confess that the writing of this script was more challenging than I could have ever imagined.

I have spent time thinking about Mary’s life through a lens that I never had before – that of a grieving mom. Do not get me wrong! As much as I love him, Reed was not the Savior of the world. That hasn’t been the challenge. The difficulty lies in knowing the pain of losing a child, the anguish that a mother feels. I know what I wanted to do (and did); so, I can only imagine that Mary wanted to do (and perhaps did) some of the same things.

All her questions waiting to be answered simply did not make sense while her beautiful baby boy hung on a cross. Waiting to see how God would use this hurt definitely resonates between her heart and mine. Baring her heart and soul and not knowing where it would lead, I understand that too. Knowing that today, this pain is the greatest, hardest, most challenging difficulty I have ever endured as well as not knowing if I could physically, emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, and mentally weather a blow of this magnitude. Those are shoes I can comfortably wear.

Trying to get inside her head, feeling that I could understand her heart, was an emotional task. Throughout all my preparations, I just wanted to hug her. To tell her that she would survive this, she would be able to get through it, and with God’s help, she would someday feel joy again.

But then again, tomorrow is only Friday, and Sunday’s coming.

cross

The day came when she knew all of those things for herself.

Easter has always been my favorite holiday, but since the death of my son, the death (and more importantly RESURRECTION) of God’s (and Mary’s) son has the utmost significance to me. That comforting hug I want to share with Mary? Someday, because of the willing obedience of her Son, I will get to do just that.

But on that day, there will be no tears. My questions will lose their significance, as I can only imagine so did Mary’s.

No tears. No sadness. Only JOY!

Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal! Thomas Moore

 

 

One tough girl

Leave a reply

erin and nannyDear Erin –

Today is your big day!  (Not that we could forget since you provide us with exuberant reminders a few hundred times in June.)  But it wouldn’t be the same if you didn’t, because that is you – our vibrant and energetic girl.  I so clearly remember the day we met as your birth story is one that we will never forget.

Grandma, Granpa Junior, and Nanny all drove up to be here; so, we had a house full of love when we left for the hospital that day. Not one to sit around, Granpa organized the boys to help him with setting the footings for the deck; so, if you didn’t know this, the sliding door and deck are the same age as you are.

Most of the day at the hospital was pretty much the same as the boys’ stories – a lot of waiting.  Nanny arrived at the hospital fairly early because she did not want to miss out on being the first to meet you – which was, of course, like her.  At the same time we were at labor and delivery, our family nurse was having surgery.  I overheard her talking in the hallway, and that was my first sign that something was not going quite right.

“This is her third baby. . . this shouldn’t be taking so long. What is going on?”

Neither she nor anyone else knew that I could hear her words, but since everything seemed normal I didn’t worry.  A friend from Daddy’s work asked to be in on the delivery because despite being a three time momma herself, she had never witnessed the miracle of birth.  Her request turned out to be a divine intervention.  When it appeared that it was close to “game time”, we called her to come to the hospital.

This is when things start to change.  Suddenly a nurse comes rushing in and says, “We need to get her on her side NOW!!!”  Looking back, we remembered another nurse quietly slipped into the room and stood silent sentry between our eyesight and the monitors.  The reason:  you no longer had a heartbeat, and they all knew something was terribly wrong.

An oxygen mask, severe pain, and being held by nurses, Daddy, and our friend in a contortionist position, my mind was reeling with what was happening.  Then the words that made the room go quiet were uttered by our normally cool and calm doctor.  (Keep in mind: he and Daddy watched golf during Sawyer’s big entrance into the world)

“Oh dear God, I see the face! The pushing is crushing the baby’s heart.”

While no one said It aloud, the race to save your life was now on.

You entered the world. In one swift motion, the cord was cut and the doctor scooped you up and ran with you.  Someone announced, “It’s a girl.” The wall of nurses surrounding the doctor, keeping what was going on out of our line of sight.

No cry. No gasp of air. No first genteel introductions to our new daughter.

First APGAR: 0

Questions come falling out of my wearied mind and body.  I could see the equipment they are using without being told what they are doing.  Is she breathing? Did she aspirate meconium? What is going on?

Second APGAR: 1

In what felt like eternity, we finally hear you cry.  There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. The tiny girl who we have later learned has the will to push through anything proved in the first ten minutes of life that she was a fighter.  We only held you for a few moments, during which time Nanny was so proud to meet you. That bond between great-grandmother and great-granddaughter was one that never waivered from that moment on.  You were always her special girl.

Our introductions were short lived because you were promptly escorted to respiratory intensive care where you stayed for the next four days.  Grandma, Granpa, and the boys had to first “meet” you through the glass.

It was the scariest moment of our lives.  We didn’t get to hold you, only your hand, because you couldn’t breathe on your own.  We didn’t get to feed you – tubes and machines took the place of our snuggles.  And we played a waiting game to see if your lungs would be able to do it alone,  despite your rough start.

But you showed everyone at Day 4 that you were and forever will be –  one tough cookie.  They decided that you could go home (as long as we didn’t leave town because they were certain that you would have to come back).  You didn’t!

The counseling provided to us said that you might struggle with lots of things – especially reaching developmental milestones and academic learning later on.  Neither of which proved to be true! They just didn’t know what us Stevens are made of – a faith that doesn’t give up and a vocabulary that doesn’t include quit.

You showed that despite all the studies and statistics for going that long without oxygen – you were (and are) extraordinarily awesome!  Having two big brothers, you just never knew you were once a fragile baby, fighting to breathe.  You were their constant shadow, and you would prove time and again that you wanted to be big like them.  Nothing ever stopped you – and we are so glad that God gave us you.

Happy 14th Birthday Erin!  We love you like crazy! Momma

PS – You know how you have on more than one occasion told us that you have Daddy wrapped right around your finger.  It’s true, and I have proof!  On Day 4, when we were able to leave the hospital, a nurse was cutting off all your hospital identifications, and she accidentally sliced your pinky finger with a scissors.  It was the first time that I ever saw your Daddy want to smack someone.  With everything you had been through, it was too much for him. He fumed for days that his precious baby girl’s finger had been cut – every fiber of his being was offended.  That tiny, wounded pinky finger has held him captive ever since.  Good luck to any boy who ever wishes to hold that finger!

Sweet Grace: hope-filled

Leave a reply

Note: While we are working on our website, the monthly newsletter will be found on the blog.  Once we have it finalized, the newsletter will be available by subscription only.  Graciously, we have some guest posts in this newsletter as we welcome submissions from our friends for the newsletter. Our lives have been enriched by the friends that God has put in our paths, and we would love for you to get to know them a little bit as well.

~ Real women ~ Real lives ~ Sweet Grace ~

As a little girl, Easter was always my favorite holiday.  I enjoyed Christmas, but Easter always made my heart just jump for joy.  I loved picking out the perfect Easter dress, bonnet, shoes, and those oh so adorable white gloves.  I still love gloves today. There is just something so genteel about little white gloves.  Growing up down South, we had egg hunts outside and sunrise services where we didn’t freeze to death.  When Easter morning arrived, I could hardly contain my excitement.  The items in my basket were always good, but for me the pure joy came when we stepped through the doors of our white church.  He is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Those hope-filled phrases were used in place of hello, and they echoed from every corner of the sanctuary.Lil' Sprout Memories   Christmas is wonderful, but it if you want to see joyful Christians come to church early on Easter morning.  I like contemporary Christian music, but I was raised on good old Southern gospel hymns. Each Easter, joy and hope exuded from every pore as we sang “Because He Lives” and “Christ the Lord is Risen Today”.  Even today, I still get goose bumps when I hear the organ roll leading into the chorus of “Up from the Grave He Arose”.

Easter is the definition of HOPE. Maybe not according to Webster’s, but it really should be.  Recently, I have been grappling with the reality of Easter.  For any believer who has lost someone, the significance of Easter is a clinging hope. The only hope that makes sense. It is the promise that through Christ’s sacrifice, we will see those loved ones again.  His incredible gift to humanity has made that possible.  When I was a little girl singing with her church family, I would often get choked up on Easter morning.  The chocolate bunnies and Peeps were nice, but even then I realized that someone gave his life for me.  Lately, my conflict has been are we recognizing what Jesus really did? He didn’t just give up extra cream in his latte or get bumped off a flight.  He gave his life in a cruel, brutal and foretold way so that we could know the lavish depth of His Father’s love. If you have ever felt unloved, this is why you shouldn’t.  He loved you enough to go through with the most horrific of deaths.  If you ever feel left out or rejected, please know that he chose me (and you and everyone else) – loved me enough to lay down his life.  But even more significantly, he would have done it even if I was the only one who needed to be saved, and that alone fills my heart with hope.

Family Cooking: Easter Bread Nest

oneperfectbite.blogspot.com

oneperfectbite.blogspot.com

This has been a gift for several years from our friend, Karla Adams.  She is an amazing cook, seamstress, volunteer, and friend.  Actually, I don’t know much she isn’t good at. Kandy’s kiddos have always loved when the Easter “knock” comes and there she is with the gift of this bread.  It always looks beautiful on our Easter table.  Delicious, fun, and something the whole family will love.

Ingredients:

2 Frozen loaves bread

5 raw eggs

Food coloring

Powdered sugar frosting

Dye eggs with food coloring. Add food coloring to 1/2 c water. Dye as desired. DO NOT boil eggs first.

 

When bread is thawed and just starting to rise,  make into ropes of dough. You will have 2 long ropes. Take the ropes and twist them together. Place on a greased cookie sheet. Shape into a circle and pinch the end together to form this circle. Place the dyed eggs into the braided gaps. This will look funny at first. But as the bread rises it will look more like a nest.

Spray dough with cooking spray. Try not to spray eggs. Place a flour sack towel over it. When bread has doubled in size, bake @ 350 for 25– 30 minutes or until golden brown.

Cool completely. Drizzle with powdered sugar frosting. Leave it white or color it. Sprinkle with Easter colored M&M’s or robin egg candies.

NOTE: Before making the ropes I like to roll out each loaf of bread and add some butter and sugar with cinnamon. This gives it a little extra look and taste.

February Challenges: The February newsletter’s theme was love.  We encouraged our readers to Did you love your neighbors? Did you encourage a young person last month?  If so we would love to hear from you. 

The best laid plans . . . well, we didn’t get the neighborhood soup night accomplished.   The mission/tagline of this ministry ~ Real women ~ Real lives ~ Sweet Grace isn’t just something we say, but it is how we really operate on a daily basis.  We want to be genuine and real, even when we come up short on goals.  Instead of soup night, we cleared snow off of driveways following a recent snow storm.  Our neighbors who were out of town returned home to clean driveways and were able to just relax.  I did accomplish the writing of letters for challenge #2.  I chose six teenagers to write letters of encouragement and told how proud I was of them.  Most importantly, I told them how I was glad they were in my children’s lives.  After I had mailed them, I told my kiddos that I had done it, in case any of the recipients said anything to them.  A few did, and I received a call from one mom.  The best was the one who caught my eye (didn’t say anything), but made sure I noticed her after the school band concert.  It felt really good to do it.   So much so, that I think it is going to become a habit.

fay-prairieMaking hope a habit is the lesson from our guest writer this month.  Our friend, Fay Prairie has blessed us with a great piece on choosing hope.  Fay is a speaker, writer, counselor, wife, mom, and friend.  You can learn more about her at her website http://www.fayprairie.com/ I have enjoyed getting to know her, and she has been a huge encouragement to me as I have decided to follow God’s leading in forming all of this.

Hope Can Advance Your Life

Life is full of uncertainties, disappointments, and moments of despair. However, even when times get difficult and intimidating, as long as we keep hope alive, we can continue to move forward with confidence.

When you have hope, you believe and have faith that things will get better and you will persevere. Hope is a powerful attitude which opens doors where despair slams them shut.

The Webster definition of hope is the “feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best” or the “feeling that something desired may happen.”

How does hope help us in our life?

1. Hope helps us to feel stronger. When we truly believe things will get better, we are willing to do whatever it takes. With hope we can look to the future with confidence and excitement, and we can begin to do more than we ever imagined.

2. Hope helps us focus on the positive. Whatever we focus on grows. When we maintain our focus on the positives in our life, more positive things come into our life. Hope allows us to look forward to all the wonderful things in life.

3. Hope helps us envision possibilities and solutions There will always be difficulties, but hope helps us to visualize good outcomes. It allows us to expect good things to happen.

4. Hope gives us the desire to learn and grow. Hope helps us regain interest and get involved more fully in life. By growing as a person we will make improvements that lead to greater life-satisfaction and well-being.

5. Hope helps us to take an empowered view toward life. A hopeful attitude helps us see the best, work for the best, and, ultimately, experience the best in life. Hope increases our joy, courage and level of success in life.

No matter what you face in life, always think hopefully, speak hopefully, work hopefully, and act hopefully. Do all you can to make hope a daily habit. Remind yourself that regardless of what happens in your life, you always have the option to choose hope.

Family Traditions

For the last few years, Kandy’s and Brenda’s families have gotten together to dye Easter eggs.  We all look forward to it.  Last year, I think we dyed eight dozen eggs.  We decided the four dozen from the year before just wasn’t enough. Everyone gets involved.  There is a lot of creativity – including planning for the next time we do this. Conversations of I saw this cool idea in Martha Stewart magazine or on Pinterest come up more than once. We dream, we plan, but mostly we laugh.  I don’t think anything tops the laughter from the year we created a mural with the left over dye.  After admiring everyone’s creations, we lamented about how the dye was just going to go to waste.  As a teacher, I am always up for a new experiment.  With a twinkle in my eye, I ran downstairs and grabbed an old white sheet that was destined to become a plant protector when the fall frosts threatened my garden.  We took those coffee cups filled with dye and splatter painted that sheet.  It was amazing.  It was so much fun that it lands up there with catching fireflies, playing in the sprinkler, and running to meet the ice cream truck for this Southern girl.  Of course, the most laughter came after the sheet dried and we noticed the now Easter dyed lawn.  Oh well, a little collateral damage was worth the fun we had.

We would love to hear of your families Easter traditions. Please respond to this post with what Easter traditions you and your family hold dear.  

 Family Easter Garden 

We decided to see repeat a blog from last year because it was such a wonderful activity that our whole family enjoyed. Our littlest one took pride each day in spritzing the garden with water.  As the garden grew, she delighted in trimming the lawn with scissors.

http://kandynolesstevens.com/2012/04/02/easter-countdown-part-1-johnathan-has-a-starring-role/

March Encouragement

Spend a few minutes each day in the next week, praying and asking God to bring to mind one – just one – person that you can bring hope.  Often in life, it is the small things that bring the most hope.  Once you know who that person is do one small thing for them – write a note, send flowers, drop by for a visit, make a call, make a meal, do a chore. Just do something, and leave a message of hope.  If you feel comfortable, you can tell the recipient you were the hope-filled giver.  We would love to hear what you decide to do.

Ministry Update

We are proud to announce that we have partnered with 5j Design LLC to design our logo and website  to help us basically help ourselves (when we are way over our heads technically speaking).  They are assisting us in developing a better way to reach others with the message of God’s grace and love. In the coming months, we should have a new website with a more streamlined method of communicating with our friends and churches.  The story of how we found Jake and Zach is an amazing God story, but just know He is looking out for us.  Based on guidance from our friends at 5J Design, we have made one small change in our ministry.  Watch for the unveiling of that change in the coming days.

We wait with hope for spring filled days where we can sit on the deck, sipping sweet tea and chatting.  Until then, we would love to chat with you.

Kandy & Brenda

Romans 15:13  May the God of hope fill you  with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you  may abound in hope. (NIV)


					

		
		
	


	

				

			
						

				The thing about grief . . . Part 2
			

										

					Leave a reply				

					


				

			
wordIt has taken me a long time to write this blog for a myriad of reasons. The largest one is the bare “nakedness” of sharing something that is difficult to admit even to myself. But in the end, I feel that God wants me to share because somehow by talking about my challenges someone somewhere might be helped. The things (both good and bad) that I am sharing in this series come from hidden places that very few know.


Losing someone is hard. Grieving that loss is even harder.


Grief is messy work. So messy that at times, things just don’t make sense. One of my challenges is the inability to retrieve words when I am speaking. It has slowly gotten better over time, but at one point it was so bad that I spoke to my doctor about the possibility of early onset Alzheimer’s. When I slow down and really think, I can retrieve the word, but sometimes it just doesn’t come.

To help you to understand, it is often a common ordinary word like refrigerator. I might want to ask my kids to get something from there, but no matter how hard I try I cannot get that word out. Eventually I settle for a sort of word version of charades, akin to “Can you get the hamburger out of the thing – you know – the thing that keeps food cold?”


I have been reassured that I do not have Alzheimer’s disease. I simply have a word retrieval issue as a result of grief brain. It has gotten better over time, but I do still encounter it. I would liken it to one of those pesky August flies in Minnesota that you just can’t seem to swat. For someone who uses her words professionally, this lapse is frustrating, at best. My challenge isn’t something I can just make better. It is completely involuntary.


The Monday following the Newtown tragedy found me travelling with students that I help coach. I was doing my normal coaching duties when suddenly the entire page looked like hieroglyphics. Numbers and symbols that I adore – became gibberish. I was still so emotionally raw that I became teary-eyed and explained to the fellow coaches that my brain was trapped right back to February 19.

Instead of treating me in all the ways my imagination thought possible, one cried, one jumped in to do my job, one hugged me, and one reassured me that I was in a safe place and that he was praying for me. It was a good reminder to me that being truthful was sincerely better than attempting a façade of sunshine and fields of daisies. Instead of holding inside my messy bucket of grief, it was okay to let others help me carry the load. They couldn’t walk through my brain, but they could hold my hand and guide me. For that I am eternally thankful.