On Another's Sorrow

This weekend was FULL. We had our second garage sale fundraiser for the adoption and raised just shy of 1000$ to go towards our adoption expenses. We are so grateful for everyone who donated items, helped us sort and set up, and then everyone who shopped. I was so blessed to meet two adoptive mamas ( one who adopted from our agency ! ) and also a grown adopted daughter. These sweet connections encouraged us and gave us some much needed motivation to get through our last few bits of paper work.

Along with the garage sale we hosted my little sister ( who is almost 13) for the weekend. She is fun and active and is in crutches at the moment. We had a sweet time hanging out and even found a chance to venture out to see Rio 2. I also enjoyed trying out 4 kids and was pleasantly surprised that the chaos didn't feel any more chaotic! Woo-hoo! Hope!

This weekend was also a weekend of tenderness. We have always been blessed, every city we have lived in, by friendships with families who grieve. And I say blessed because I have learned more about our Father God through friendships with parents and families who have lost children than I otherwise would have. There is a depth of understanding of his grace and mercy when a mother or father who has experienced that loss looks you in the face and tells you it is true. Here in this town in this moment, this was a heavy weekend of memory as we as a congregation remembered a sweet little boy I will one day meet in heaven. His mama, and other women I deeply care for and respect have heavy hearts this week as it is an ebenezer of the day he began his journey home. I do not usually shy away from these moments as they arise, but as humans we have our own grief, and grief triggers grief. So Thursday and Friday nights were long nights of hard dreams. The ones where people visit. The ones you don't want to wake up from. And so we wonder. How do we, people living our busy lives with adoptions and fundraisers and children and events, share in the sorrow of another? How can we carry the grief of our friends? How do we enter in to their sorrow when the reality is that our sinful selves are incapable of true empathy. I'm comforted that this is not a new question. William Blake wrote of this in his Songs of Innocence (1790's) in "Sorrow of another." His answer to grieving with each other? Our Father in heaven grieves too. We do not carry each others burdens alone. He carries mine. He carries yours. He carries what I carry for you. He weeps with us. "Till our grief is fled and gone, He doth sit by us and moan."

William Blake
Sorrow of Another

Can I see another's woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another's grief,
And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow's share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow filled?

Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird's grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear -

And not sit beside the nest,
Pouring pity in their breast,
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant's tear?

And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
O no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

He doth give His joy to all:
He becomes an infant small,
He becomes a man of woe,
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by:
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not near.

O He gives to us His joy,
That our grief He may destroy:
Till our grief is fled and gone
He doth sit by us and moan.

Yesterday

Yesterday was a difficult day. A day of surprising grief. Nine years ago we lost Erika. Or, I should say they lost her. They being her family. Her friends. I had lost her a month before, when my relationship with her brother ended. Or should have ended. Started to end? When a relationship ends, so do the day dreams. I had to accept after the breakup that she would never be my sister after all. We would never plan weddings or raise babies or travel the world. And then she was gone and those things would not happen with anyone. It was an awkward time. My grief was real, but misplaced. I sat for hours on end trying to hide in corners the week before her funeral at her parents house. I tried to be helpful, but really I just wanted to be close. Looking back, I probably should have stayed away, but no one around me was grieving her so it was hard. It was a summer of grieving. For me and my husband who had only a few weeks before lost his niece and almost lost his sister in a horrible car accident. We, my husband and I, met moments before the grieving began in Italy on a summer tour with our choir. We met in the most romantic country on earth, but the grief was what began to knit us together. Our darkest days. My dark summer of fear and loss and betrayal and insanity. I started making choices. Desperate choices. Choices that nearly lost me many friends and choices that eventually led to a pregnancy. Isn't God just like that? He uses our darkest days to bring about His greatest light. Ayden. His name means fire. He was a spark of life, of joy, of light. Necessary to my survival. Nine years ago. Her nephew. I long to see her delight in him. For him to know her smile, hear her laugh. Loss. Yesterday was hard.   We got up and went to the library. The boys are gathering prizes each week for reading, or being read to. They love the silly prizes. I wanted to grab myself a couple of books, but the baby knows when I need him to be quiet and cries. Loudly. I had a plan. We would go to the kids area, Ayden would select his books and I would grab some for Balin. Then on the way to the checkout I would grab a couple books off the "New books" display for growups. It caught me off guard to see there in a very prominent position a book that several friends have been recommending. One Thousand Gifts. by Ann Voskamp. They said I should read it. People like Heather and Melissa, wife of the pastor of our favorite church ever. So I grabbed it, not expecting much. I usually can read faith based non fiction books for about 20 minutes max. They normally drive me nuts. Just sayin. You can be literate and love Jesus people. I'm learning how to find those books slowly. This my friends is a book true to the quotes on the back. " This book will mess with you.."  Two hours later as I begrudgingly put it down I realized I had been messed with... in the most Holy of ways. The entire first chapter deals with loss, and the resulting "soul holes" that remain. As redeemed as my relationship with Aydens father is. As beautifully as God has given both of us spouses who love their step child as their own. As lovely as it is that we are much more than civil to one another and have, if not a friendship, a peacefull co-parenting existence.. as much as all of that. There are still holes. I was 21. I never again had friendships like before. I never again was my own person. My music, my art was set aside so I could focus on this little person. Figure out how God would have me feed him. clothe him. As much as my husband was a true friend there are gaps. Spaces where I don't see myself anymore. To grieve Erika is to me, to grieve my twenty year old self as well. To grieve life before that summer. I am more than those losses. I am more than the failures that plague me. This amazing little book is already teaching me so much. Gods blessings abound. This is my story. The Story He has given me, and as the author of perfection. I wouldn't have it any other way. So bring it Mexico South Texas. God brought me here and he will see us through. One Gift at a time. I'm a a few days late, but I'm starting here...
 A multitude of gifts....
1. One Thousand gifts by Ann Voscamp
2. Grief that surprises
3. day dream sisters
4.Sons given as interventions