Through The Darkness

It's dark.
The stillness of early morning reaches in and quiets my thoughts.

Your peace fills my heart.

I'm taken back a few months ago to March in California
That early morning darkness on base, Camp Pendleton,
when I walked to the main building, listening to the silence of a world still asleep
Then, in the distance, I heard it -
the faint call of Marine cadence.
Though the world slept, there they were,
the disciplined, the few, the proud,
running to the time of duty requiring total sacrifice.

I'll never forget the peace that washed over me.
It was a familiar sound to my son who wasn't there.
It was sad but,
I felt at home.
I felt safe.
The cadence brought back Caleb's years of serving.
The love, the loyalty, the integrity.
The commitment, dedication, perseverance.
All the obstacles he had overcome.

Quiet confidence.
Caleb had that.
In all humility, he gave his all in everything he did.

Yes, that's it.
In this darkness,
there is quiet confidence.

Even though tears fall.
Even though the days are hard.
Even though in the morning when I wake the harsh reality hits again.
Even though.....

Yes, there, deep inside is unwavering confidence - in
 knowing that my God has been faithful in
getting me through each and every moment.

This morning it's there - that feeling.
the punch-in-the-stomach, I-miss-Caleb.

I know without a doubt where my son is.
He's having the everlasting time of his life.

But, I miss him.
I miss that his time here, is over.

In the silence sadness surrounds me, but so does peace.
I'm heartbroken without him.
I know where he is, and that we will be together again - .
I know I've said it before....
it's being here without him that's hard.

And yet, every time I think of Caleb
I have to smile.
I may be crying,
but I have to smile.
He always has that effect on me.
I don't ever want to lose that.
I don't ever want his smile and humor to grow dim.
Ever.

You know, I think God knows that.
I may not be able to see Caleb, but his life is so a part of mine
he will always be here
making me smile, making me laugh.

I really think so.
I have confidence in that.

Thank you Father for your word.
In quietness and confidence shall be my strength.
I believe.
Through tears and heartache,
I believe.

Making The Drive/ For Caleb

Friday, September 27.
I had to do it.
For Caleb.

I don't like driving in the mountains and refuse to drive over mountain passes.
The tiny railings that exist on the edge of steep drop offs on the side of mountains have never given me any sense of security.
Really? Like  those little things are going to stop a car from going over the edge.

Some mountain roads are narrow, two lane.
Think about that - especially if you're not the one driving against the mountain wall.

With those thoughts not in my mind, I told my husband I'd drive.
Nothing unusual about that.
I do that sometimes when we leave home on the plains - I have no problem driving on a four lane interstate with plenty of room - no steep descents in sight.
My husband usually gets to work on some paperwork for at least an hour....or he dozes.
At the end of an hour or two, he usually drives.

Not on Friday.
I drove.
One hour, two hours, and I kept on driving.
We got up into the high country, and it was beautiful.
I thought about Caleb.
I prayed.
I can do this.
I need to insert here, there are some four lanes in the mountains, too.
That helps a little - not much, but a little.
There are still those tiny little railings on the edge.

I drove through the mountains.
I drove over two passes (most of the second one.)
I drove through fog.
I drove through rain.
I drove through snow.
I kept saying, "This is so beautiful!"
"This is so fun!"

Laugh.
It's ok.
But, I meant it.
There was no fear.
There was no reason.
My son was courageous in the face of great dangers in his life.
His example has burned in my life like never before.
He trusted God with his every breath.

We got to Rabbit Ears Pass, and the weather was worse.
It was horrible.
Snow was falling like crazy.
Ice formed on the wipers making visibility difficult.
Trying to maintain control on the icy roads was like trying to walk in stocking feet across an ice arena.

Slow....
very slowly,
I drove.

At one point,
I found a place to pull over,
and my husband drove the twenty or so remaining miles.
I closed my eyes as we swerved on the icy roads.
I was thankful.
Not afraid (well, except for my husband's driving, maybe.)

There was peace.
I did it.
Thank you Caleb, for being such a brave son.
Your life impacts mine every single day.
I don't know if you knew this, but your life has been impacting our family for years.
Since you've been gone, the impact is even greater.
We are all reaching the mountain tops through this valley we are in.
We are all experiencing the challenges of life in a more positive way.

I know you are cheering us on.
We're getting it.
We really are.

Even though it's tough, we're risking life.

Thank you.
We love you.

Gold Stars and Fallen Heroes

I stepped into the hallway.
I wasn't expecting this....
I wanted to turn and walk away -
Maybe nobody'd notice.

It was overwhelming.

"Let's leave," I wanted to say to my husband.
I don't belong here.
We don't belong here.
No.

Rows and rows of pictures lined the tables....hundreds of pictures with small votive candles in front of each one.
Hundreds of beautiful faces, personalities beaming from each one - so many smiles - faces that said, "I love life. I love this adventure."
Faces that lived for today, and the tomorrow that never came.
Loving faces with moms, dads, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives and little children they held and kissed.

There would have been so much laughter if they would have all been standing there with us.
But, these were reminders of our fallen heroes...

Scanning the many rows of photos,
I found him.
There he was...
My son's picture.
My hero.
My fallen warrior.
It didn't seem right that his picture would be there.
It didn't seem right that any of them should...
They were all so young and full of life.

We walked into the banquet hall where many were already seated.
I really didn't want to be there either.
I felt removed from everything and everybody.
Knowing all these people were there because they had lost a son or daughter was overwhelming.
How is it that we are here?
It was a strange almost surreal feeling.
We sat down. The people were cordial and welcoming.
Yet, I couldn't engage in any kind of conversation, which is weird for me.
I listened for a little while, still surveying the huge room of parents,
got up and left.

I found a place in the hall, a tucked away place, and the tears came.
I bent over with the heartache - yes, I did belong there.
All these people hurt and were heartbroken, too.
Parents from all over Colorado - some from New Mexico and Utah.
Wow.

There was time for roll call for each hero represented.
We had a time to remember those who have been MIA/POW since the early nineteen hundreds to now...those did not/have not returned home. It all took on a different meaning.
We were blessed. We had closure.

As it turned out, I'm glad we came.
I met a facebook friend - we only knew each other through facebook, and knew we were Gold Star moms.
My husband and I met other parents with stories of their own. We shook hands, and hugged - we understood.

When I returned to the banquet hall, the speaker announced that we were ok, and were in good company. If we needed to leave the room, or cry, it was ok. If we felt overwhelmed, it was understandable.
Whew.

This journey is difficult.
No doubt about it.
All these families at this retreat are on the same journey.

This morning we ride the gondola to the top of the mountain for a prayer service.
I'm looking forward to it.
I look forward to spending time with the families we've met.
Now,
I'm not ready to leave.

My son was the most recent fallen hero represented here.
We are so new to this journey, but somehow I get the impression that this journey is always new.
Like the wonderful speaker we had last night said, "You don't get over it, but you get through it."



PS - Today is Gold Star Mother's Day - to all the moms I share this day with - you are brave and amazing. God bless you all. 

A Mom's Heart

I heard recently that I needed to get over it.
I heard I only needed to think of what I have instead of what I'm missing.
I heard I just need to thank God for the things he is doing.

I heard.

I also heard some words of encouragement.
Things that made sense and were helpful.

Sue, a new friend, a military mom who lost her son,
recently told me -
We with children are all in the same boat.
When one of us loses a child, we are out of the boat.
That's it.
We can never get back in the boat of  "everybody's-here."
Because we're not in the boat anymore, we will spend the rest of our lives swimming.
Some days we will barely be keeping our heads above water.
Some days we will feel like we are drowning.
Other days we will swim along and do well.
At times we will float on our backs.

My children are a huge part of my life.
I would gladly give my life for any of them.
It just so happened God had other plans.

I've been told the devil did it. God's plans for my child were not accomplished.
I've been told our children make choices and they live or die by those choices.

I believe there is a much bigger picture than our puny minds can even begin to comprehend, but we so want to explain and have the answer, that we can put ourselves in the position of wisdom that we do not have.

I  am not in that position.
I do know that God promises to hold us in the palm of his hand and that satan cannot pluck us out.
I know that he hears our prayers...he heard my prayers for my son that very day. He hears my prayers now.

His plans are not our plans.
His thoughts are not our thoughts.
His ways are higher than ours.
That is what the Bible says.

He is God.
I am not.

All I know right now is that this journey has changed my life forever.
In brokenness I will live.
Through Christ alone am I whole in any way.

He knows my heart.
Grief, peace and  joy all fill the same heart.
On the outside it may look like I'm just fine.
Or it may seem like I'm a crying mess.

I will not 'get over it.'
There is nothing to get over.
The absence of my child will be with me all my life.
Will I go on?
Of course I will.
I'm still here in the land of the living.
But, don't think that if I just think happy thoughts it will all go away.

I look at the sunrise every morning as it peeks through clouds or through the trees, and I am in awe of my mighty Maker.
I watch as birds balance on telephone wires and marvel.
I smile as I watch little children in their innocence, run through the splash park.
I breathe in the fresh, early morning air, and thank my God for his goodness.
I praise my Lord through the tears.
I know the beauty I see here is nothing compared to the beauty my son is a part of now.

I am glad for each day, for each blessing.
There are many blessings...God sends beautiful people who bring sweet comfort and friendship.
I am mindful of all the great and wonderful things I have to be so thankful for.
The greatest of all is that I know where my son is,
and that one day the space that separates us will be no more.

Selah.

Caleb's Hiking Boots

Today I opened one of your boxes.
There they were.
Your
hiking boots, headgear.
Signs of your life,
things you enjoyed doing.
Those hiking boots had seen lots of wear.

I remember you talking to me about some of your adventures.
Rappelling,
Climbing in the desert.
I saw videos of some of your journeys.
Steep, narrow crevices.
High, vertical rocks and cliffs.
And there you were...
Big smile on your face.
You loved your life.

Seeing your boots
broke my heart.
All those miles of living...
Now
empty, silent soles
in a box.

Yet, as I looked at them
I could hear your voice as you trekked up mountains with your buddies, laughing, joking, giving each other a hard time.
I could feel your hands, rough and torn from grabbing hold of branches or jagged edges.
I could see your strength as you pulled yourself up, muscles strained and strong.
So many scenarios of your active life crossed my mind.

Sigh....
Those boots
told your stories.
Now they rest.
I'm sad.

I shut the box, and ran upstairs.
Sobs escaped
again.

It doesn't seem right.
Nothing makes sense right now.
Although I know that I know God's Word is true,
everything has changed in this life.
Nothing is certain.
I have no control over much, really....probably the way it should be.
I don't feel lost - I know where I'm bound in the end.
But right now, everything seems amiss.

Life goes on and I am a spectator....going and doing, yet feeling disconnected.

I thought I had direction, but right now I see flashing red lights, hear sirens
and I stand still, wanting to run, but knowing this is where I am.
There is a detour, a huge roadblock.
Where to go from here?

Life does go on.
There has to be purpose through all this.
God holds my life in his hands.
The little time allotted is hazy right now.

Maybe one day I'll look at Caleb's hiking boots, think of the miles he covered, and I'll be able to smile.
Right now it breaks my heart that those boots won't climb with his feet marking their steps.

Like the psalmist, I cry out in the depths, and I know my God is there.
Oh how Caleb's miles of living has testified of a life well lived.

I look at my Father and say, my life is in your hands.
I don't understand too much....except that you are God and I am not.
I know that your Word is true and you have to be carrying me.

I cry out, Abba.
Carry on Father.
You say this present suffering is nothing compared to the riches of the glory to come.
I believe.
Even now -
Yes, Father.
I believe.

Christmas in July/Christmases When You Were Mine

I can hear it now,
What? Christmas in July?
It's not even close to December.
This commercialism has gone too far!

I have a confession to make.
My children will testify.

When they were growing up, I thought it would be fun to play Christmas carols in July.
That was long ago, before it was the cool thing to do in the middle of summer - get it? Cool?
Ok.
There were no advertisements for Christmas in July back then.
Imagine my surprise when it became a media frenzy years later.
Pshaw.
I'd been celebrating Christmas in July for years....without the
decorations and gifts.
Just the music,
and thoughts of the meaning.

I always thought Christmas should be celebrated all year long.
Why try to cram everything nice in one month or one day?
I thought we should bake for our neighbors one month.
Send cards another month.
Visit and spread cheer everyday.
You know, spread the love of Christmas all year.
I don't know how well that would catch on, but I think it would be great to get Christmas cards in August.
Then, December wouldn't be such a stressful month of goodness.
Don't try to give me the 'I don't get caught up in all that stuff,' or 'I don't get stressed.'
Bah humbug if you don't.

I love Christmas - that was why I played carols in July.
I remember one day when the children were fairly small,
I loaded up a picnic basket, and we piled in the car to go to Bonnie Dam (rest her dry soul).
On the way, I put in a Christmas cassette (long ago, yes).
Windows were down, and "Joy To The World" and "Rocking Around The Christmas Tree"
filled the summer air.

Those were the days.
We were all together, laughing, and having a good time.
I'm thinking we (at least some of us) were singing along.
It was great.

Caleb loved Christmas.
July twenty-fifth I came across a radio station playing Christmas carols all day.
I listened, sang, thought of Caleb and yes, a tear or more (ok, more) fell down my cheeks.

I could see his smile and hear him singing.
I'm not sure where I'll be in December...whether I'll be able to write about Christmas or not,
but yesterday it warmed my heart because I knew Caleb so enjoyed Christmas - and if you knew him you know he also liked
Taylor Swift.

So, Merry Christmas in July.
This song is for you my son -

Christmases When You Were Mine - Taylor Swift.

A Look At Death/That 'D' Word

It's unknown territory for me....
Trying to deal with this broken down life in a broken down world.
I heard from a friend of mine.
Some friends of his lost their six year old son yesterday in a swimming accident.
The intense heartbreak of that couple has to be horrific.

I've been trying to come to terms with the enormity of....what else can you call it -
loss, myself.

Their son, my son, your daughter, his wife, her sister....it goes on.
The 'd' word runs rampant in the world.
It doesn't matter what your status is, or how closely you walk with God and do the right things.
The 'd' word is in this world and can come to your house, too.

I've been thinking and praying about it for a while.
It doesn't make sense how young lives have been snatched away...just like that.
God is big.
Why doesn't he just stop this nonsense from happening and breaking our hearts?
He can do anything, can't he?
Or can he?

This is what I think.
I'm not telling anyone else what to think.
I'm not saying I know anything or that anybody should agree with me.
It's just a thought.
Got it?
I'm not an expert by any means.
Just thinking, maybe....
Here's my take on the whole 'd' word....

The 'd' word came into the world with Lucifer the beautiful, narcissistic angel of music who was jealous of God and wanted the glory for himself.
When he got kicked out of heaven, he took some stupid angels with him and they started their campaign of death and destruction because there was nothing good in them, only evil.

God created Adam and Eve - beautiful, happy, alive forevermore in the Garden of Eden.
It was the way it was supposed to be.
But, because evil himself was around, he decided to try to destroy what God created in his image.
So, he tempted them.
I'm thinking he may have been tempting them, breaking them down before the day of the forbidden fruit.
So that day when he showed up, Eve was already entertaining negative, doubt-filled 'what ifs'.
When evil mentioned eating the fruit, she thought, why not.

Evil knew he was bound for hell - a horrible place just for him and his angels, but he didn't want to go there alone. Who better to take with him than God's prized creation, man created in God's image.

It worked.
Sin entered with disobedience and with it, the 'd' word.
Thanks for eating the forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve - it takes two, you know.
So, they were banished from the Garden of Eden where we'd all be living if it hadn't been for evil, temptation and disobedience.

That is when the 'd' word began to be a household name.
Cain killed Abel.
Death had begun.
Adam died.
Eve died.
I believe every time someone died, God was sad.
He hated death, but because man had listened to evil, there it was.
I'm not saying those people went to hell, that's a topic for another day. I'm just saying they died...the 'd' word is what this is about.
The thing about God, is he gives his creation freedom. He is not a dictator or manipulator. He shows us the right way, so we can avoid heartache and pain, but he gives us the freedom to choose.
Adam and Eve chose death, and so it was.

What could God do? There was only one way to overcome eternal death and damnation, and that was to end it himself, and he could only do that by allowing death and sin to enter his body so he could destroy it.
That's when he sent Jesus, the living Word made flesh.
Jesus accounted for our sins and died, taking all the ugliness of evil on himself.
He overcame death so it had no sting.
Sure, people would still die on this earth because of sin, and our mortality, but the sting was gone because Jesus took the keys to hell, and had the keys to heaven. Heaven's gates were open for his creation again. He died, went to hell, overcame all its grotesque ugliness and rose to life everlasting giving all of us the right to go there.

I believe death is the worst sin has to offer, that's why it's so horrible, why it hurts so, so bad.
It's irregular, unnatural.
We were never supposed to experience it.
Because we experience it, God has, too.
He understands everything we go through.
I believe he hurts, too, being separated from us. He loves us.
When we accept the gift of Jesus' life for our death, he knows he will be with us again.
Until then, he misses us and hurts, too - death separates people who love.

The Bible says, "Death where is your sting?"  Death does not have preeminence over our lives because Christ gave death a lethal blow by his life.
So! The terrible hurt is because death is not the norm for God's creation...it is a result of the evil one and the weakness of mankind. The victory in it is that Jesus overcame death and the grave once and for all when he went there and took the keys of sin and death.

When a believer passes from here, he goes from life to life.
Caleb went from this life to heaven's life.
My friend's friends' son walked into the arms of Jesus.
That lessens the blow.
We have hope.

However hurtful death is in this life, there is an eternal life waiting for us and no weapon can stand against that.
As difficult as it is for me to come to terms with the 'd' word, it helps to know heaven is real. I know Jesus is real and eternal life is ours.

 I like what one evangelist said. He said Christians should change how they talk about the 'd' word. Your loved ones aren't dead. He was saying one day that death is not death to the believer-- it is changing location.  John 11 says that whoever believes in Him shall never die!

When we leave this world, we pass from life to eternal life.  I love knowing that.

My thoughts have also been on heaven and earth and reality.  I'll save that for another time.
In the meantime, thanks for taking time to share in my thoughts.

Be at peace.
Selah.