little lulu and some very good news!

i've been wanting to share a piece of good news with y'all this month.

those of you who follow and read my blog or who know our family, know also that we've had some pretty heavy stuff ... some sadness ... some heartbreak in the past couple of months.

but today -- on this early march morning, i get to tell you something really, really awesome!

remember the little girl, lulu, who we started to pursue in adoption last february?

see post: lulu post "love and prayers: meet lu!"

she was the little girl in changsha china brought to our attention last year. we were excited thinking maybe God was calling our family to this little lamb. unfortunately after beginning paperwork, a few months later, we were told "no." this was due to my earlier tangle with cancer. and boy did it make me mad. stupid cancer, right?

truth be told, i never do well with the word, "no."

and that was hard. hard to let go that thought ... that idea ... that precious little girl in china.
hard. hard. hard.
hard to accept that cancer would still have any say.
see post: lulu post: "when the answer is no."

but eventually, the peace came even in accepting this news. and even though disappointed, we were prompted to continue praying for her, sponsoring her and having great hope for her.

and this morning, i woke to the news that TODAY little lulu is meeting her forever family!

just go ahead and let those words, that picture, that celebration sink right into your head and heart. think what that means for this family and for this little girl. seriously. think about it.

tears? yes!
tears of joy!

sure, i'm sitting here a tiny bit jealous -- of course i am! who wouldn't be? =) just look at that face!
but mostly i am just incredibly joyful knowing one less child is alone.

and knowing God always has a perfect plan.
He is good.
always good.
good.

so often we don't understand exactly how He is working and what He is choosing for us.
but, how can we? how can we know the mind of God?
we've wrestled with that out here on this blog in the easy things and in the very hard things.

bottom line: He is God. we are not.

and, so, even when we have to give up an idea or move on from a pursuit or change direction in a desire, we trust Him.
when we can't see the hand of God, we trust His heart.
not in some things, but in all things.
and it is good.
He is good.

a friend linked me to her new family's blog. and, just this morning i read one of her mom's posts where she shared jeremiah 29:11 ---

"for I know the plans I have for you,

declares the Lord, 

plans to prosper you

and not to harm you, 

plans to give you hope

and a future." ~ jeremiah 29:11

and though little lulu might never know the thousands of people who have prayed for her this past year, today, all that matters for this little girl is that God has led her to one amazing and loving family.

and we rejoice to know it.

we claimed ephesians 3:20 and prayed that God would do,
"immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine ..." 

and He has. indeed.

a-men.

welcome home, little lulu!

ashes, snowflakes and yellow

ash wednesday and white flakes fall in georgia.

snow.
clean.
faint.
few.

ash wednesday and we leave the funeral of our friends' daughter with snowflakes swirling soft in gray southern skies.


it doesn't snow in the south.
that's not supposed to happen.

but, today is a day of not-supposed-to-happen --- this funeral day for a 12 year old girl.

not supposed to happen ---- at least from where we stand. swirl. fall.

this girl who was everything sunshine to anyone who knew her ... even anyone who knew of her.
sunshine.

this girl who was known for singing, "the sun will come out tomorrow."

and, today, her family and friends celebrated the shine of her. the glow of yellow everywhere. bunches of bright roses, bundles of smiley-faced balloons. a congregation of mourners dressed in pops of yellow.

it doesn't fit this day of death.
it doesn't fit this wednesday of ashes.
it doesn't even fit this day of gray skies and its hint of snow.

except that it does.

except it is exactly the perfect color for a golden girl like kylie myers.

i'm not sure any of us will ever see yellow again and not think of the impact this young lady had on all of us ... in her life ... and, yes, even in her death.

yellow. the color of victory. golden, even in grief.

heads bowed, tears falling, shoulders folded ... but bright, bold, vibrant celebrations of yellow everywhere across the room and all i could think from my balcony seat,
"o death, where is your victory? o death, where is your sting?"  ~ 1 corinthians 15:55

let me tell you where it wasn't.

it wasn't when her daddy in his bright yellow sport coat got up in front of the thousand plus people gathered and started his talk boldly declaring this:  "Jesus is on His throne!"

he told us kylie would want us to know that. and he said, because he has learned through our school the importance of repetition, he would say it again. he wanted to make sure every one of us clearly heard him, "JESUS. IS. ON. HIS. THRONE!"

what family wears yellow to their baby girl's funeral?
what daddy gets up and declares God on His throne when his daughter is in her grave?

i'll tell you ---
a family and a father who do not grieve as the world grieves. a family with great grief, yes, but a family with even greater hope. a family who knows with confidence that Jesus "will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more." (revelation 21:4). a family who is certain their child is now dancing with Jesus on the golden streets of heaven under a banner announcing, "new!"

ash wednesday.
a day in the church where we remember our humanity. our frailty. our dust.
"we are dust ... and to dust we shall return."
ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
remembrance.
there's no mark of ash needed on the forehead of those in attendance at a young girl's funeral on this wednesday.
we know.

and the snow flakes fall gently from our southern sky.
white and clean and clear.

and though we know, there's not a one who pretends to understand.

but as kylie's dad, mark, said, "maybe we aren't supposed to."
"just because we can't understand it, doesn't make it not real."
and then he went on to further explain, "i don't understand quantum physics or gravity or the rules of the semi colon or women! but, that doesn't mean these things aren't real and true."

we can't understand the things of God.
and we aren't meant to.
that was never God's plan.
He made that perfectly clear in the garden -- at that unyielding tree of knowledge.
He made that even clearer on the hill golgotha -- at that yielded tree -- the cross.

we can't know.
we won't know.
we aren't supposed to know.

there will be places of great gray ... much mystery ... occasional confusion.
count on it.
because He is God and we are not.
He is creator and, we, only created.

and try as we might, there is no science nor system nor situation which can secure us anything more.

"for who has known the mind of the Lord?" romans 11:34
tell me who?  
who?
who?

recently, i heard one of my favorite writers say this, "what kind of God would He be if i could contain Him and all His ways within the limited boundaries of my brain?" (Jen Hatmaker).

no, be assured, we don't understand.

and it's not just kylie's 7th grade girlfriends or her sweet young sisters ... it's every one of us.
child and adult.
we don't understand.
we can't.

in closing, kylie's pastor offered this: "we trust the heart of God when we can't understand His ways."

and so that was what today was about ----
not understanding the hand of God, but getting a better glimpse into the heart of God.
a glimpse of a God who loves kylie more than the thousands gathered together today combined and multiplied.

this same God who loves you just as passionately ... just as purposefully ... just as tenderly.

that's what kylie knew when she passed from this life. she told her parents and her pastor in her final few days that she had a "strange peace."

this strange peace? yes. the only real peace.
"the peace that passes all understanding..."  (philippians 4:7).

what 12 year old girl facing death has peace?

a girl, who stands in the golden light of her Father's grace.

a girl who was gifted to her family and to this world to lead others to the peace and presence of Jesus.

a girl with a smile and song and heart of gold.

a girl who sings center stage,

"just thinking' about tomorrow 

clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow 

'til there's none.

when i'm stuck with a day that's grey

and lonely

i just stick up my chin and grin and say 

oh ...

the sun will come out tomorrow..."

"for my thoughts are not your thoughts, 

neither are your ways my ways," declares the Lord. 

"as the heavens are higher than the earth, 

so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. 

as the rain and the snow come down from heaven ... 

so is my word that goes out from my mouth: 

it will not return to me empty, 

but will accomplish what i desire 

and achieve the purpose for which i sent it." ~ isaiah 55: 8-11

50 shades of g r a c e ...

it's about to be valentine's day. and everywhere we look there are all sorts of suggestions about how best to show love.

there's no doubt, i'm a sucker for this kind of stuff:  pink-heart-shaped-pancakes, lace-doily-love-notes, dark-chocolate-dipped-strawberries ... you get the idea.

last year, american express did a survey and predicted americans would spend over $37 billion dollars celebrating valentine's day. each household, would spend on their loved ones, an average of $213. i have no idea how they figure out that kind of stuff or how accurate it really is.
but even if they are off, say, a few billion dollars ... still ....
are.you. kidding. me?

that's some expensive kind of love.

thankfully, in my house, we're more into the homemade version.

that was last year. i don't know what the predictions say about this year, but i do know that there's being a lot of money spent trying to lure people in to another costly{yes, costly} attempt to depict love.

this 50 shades thing.
it's everywhere, right?
this 50 shades of seduction.
this 50 shades  of strategy.
this 50 shades seductively and strategically opening it's doors of erotica on the weekend which epitomizes love.

and it breaks my heart to consider the numbers that this movie will pull in in the next 48 hours -- even in the name of love.

the trilogy book sales (over 100 million) have made the author, e.l. james, the highest paid writer ever. her net worth: over 60 million.

those numbers say a lot about what americans are willing to spend, valentine's day or not.

the synopsis: "this is the hotly anticipated film adaptation of the bestselling book that has become a global phenomenon."

"hot. anticipated.bestselling. has become. global. phenomenon." yikes -- how can any bouquet of roses or box of chocolates compete with those words?

it's not just deception in design, but corruption at its core.

and don't think for one moment that satan, the greatest seducer and strategist of all, isn't smiling wildly as the world does everything it can to point everyone it can in the direction of empty love.
no, not empty love. that's much too paradoxical, but emptiness.

gray.

nothingness.

decay.

dead.

death.

death -- too strong a word?
i don't think so.

that's the devil's greatest desire for you ... an empty life without authentic love. and then an empty death.

we are talking about places of the heart, images in the mind and the longings of the spirit.

and it breaks my heart to imagine the faces of the young girls who will buy some of this kind of bleak love.

it breaks my heart to think of the lonely women and desperate daughters who will plunk down $11 dollars for two hours of deception.

what need pushes us to these places?
what desires drive us to this kind of darkness?
what apathy allows us to quietly accept?

i don't know if it's the lust of the flesh or if it's simply a lack of love.

both, probably.
we all know what it means to battle both: our flesh and our lack.

maybe i'm making too big a deal. maybe i'm just being incredibly prudish, closed-minded or even judgmental because this deals with a college girl and i happen to have one of those ... and i really don't want to imagine her trapped in a torrid, twisted, sexual relationship with a 27 year old billionaire who demands bondage.

yeah, maybe that.

by the way, wal-mart has a $69.99 gift basket that contains normal valentines things like — chocolate, cookies, bubble bath — plus "chrome-plated metal double lock handcuffs with key."
i know, classy, right?

i've heard people say, "what's the big deal?"  ... "don't judge!" ... "it won't hurt." 

i disagree.

i think it does hurt.
i think it does cost.
i think it does damage.

and i think because of that, it is a big deal.
i think it is big deal because i am raising three daughters.
it's a big deal what my girls hear and think and know and observe about this mysterious thing called love.

and it's a big deal because our world doesn't need any more gray-places, but more grace-places.

we don't need to walk on twisted paths or wallow in murky waters or wonder what lurks around the dark corners.
life will provide that without the willing swipe of our credit card.

we need light and life and truth and real love ... we need grace in the way we live ... and in the way we love others.

{grace}  webster defines:
1. simple elegance or refinement of movement.
2. the free and unmerited favor of God
3. do honor or credit to (someone or something)

i don't know a lot about this movie, but i'm pretty sure none of these definitions are going to fit.

love isn't about the color gray and the seduction of bondage, but about the color red which saves us from bondage. the red blood of Jesus which washes away the gray and gross and filthy places of our decaying flesh.

no matter what you're willing to spend on love this weekend -- and husbands, don't. you. be. stingy! -- i would hope that we all know that Jesus loves us so much He has already done what cost the most.

if you'd like to read or think more about His love for us, i'm including a link to a short series i did last february on {real love}.     {what real love is}

yet and still: "though you slay me" (featuring John Piper)

yesterday i told you about kylie and her battle with bone cancer.
i asked you to pray for her and for her family.
i'll ask that again today.
please pray.
pray big.

and since yesterday's post, i've heard from some of you ... questioning ... demanding ... desiring to know what all this is and where it all comes from and what it all means.

and i'm right there with you ----
in those questions. and in those doubts. and, yes, even in the overwhelming sense of outrage.

how, in our fragile humanity, can we be anything but that ... anyplace but there?

AND YET ...

God, the Father, Abba ... oh ... He is so present in all of it.
as our community cries out to Him ... He is so very present in the pain and so very good even in grief.
and that doesn't make one bit of sense in the limitations of my brain ...
only in the deep places of my needy, needy hurting heart.
only there.

and, yes, somehow, even when the world wrestles with the very hardest stuff of life ---
He is there. He is good.

there's absolutely no tidy packaging or processing for the grief so many feel for precious kylie and her family ... we join them flat on our faces ... begging for God's healing ... for mercy.

but running in the wild current of all that this is ...
we, as His children, can know-trust-believe ... 
He is here.
He is present.
He is good.

last month, the day my mother-in-law passed away, rick's dad shared this video with me. it ministered to the rawest places of my heart. of my hurt. i pulled it out again this morning and wanted to share with y'all.
shane and shane join with john piper to deliver a powerful message for those in deep places of hurt.
i encourage you to find a quiet moment in your day and watch.

"though you slay me
{yet} i will praise you.
though you take from me
i will bless your name.
though you ruin me
{still} i will worship ...
sing a song to the one who's all i need."  
~ though you slay me

friend, are you feeling slayed, ruined, emptied, taken, destroyed, despairing? 
hear piper's words, your pain, "it is not meaningless!"

"so we do not lose heart.

though our outer self is wasting away,

our inner self is being renewed day by day.

for this light momentary affliction is preparing 

for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison,

as we look not to the things that are seen

but to the things that are unseen.

for the things that are seen are transient,

but the things that are unseen are eternal." 

~ 2 corinthians 4:16-18

"what do i do with this God?"

since my last couple of posts have dealt with the passing of my mother-in-law and her battle with cancer, i was planning my next writing to be something lighter, brighter, uplifting. something, maybe, even sweet.

except this morning i woke up to news on our friend's caringbridge and all plans for light and bright and sweet have shot right out this february window.

i sit here in the wee hours of this winter(ish) morning and feel instead the weight of their words.
the news clear. the sadness deep. the ache sharp.

and i'm sorry i can't give you anything breezy and easy in this post.
and i'm sorry it's not going to feel very uplifting -- at first. but, make no mistake there's hope.

and though the words aren't easy, there's encouragement and even evidence of something, yes something, sweet. even in this devastating news shared -- there's that. somehow.

because in this news and in this knowledge and in this very painful knowing there is still and always the Good News of Jesus.

i've written before about the myers family.

last spring their youngest daughter, kylie, was diagnosed with ewing's sarcoma. and the cancer battle began. truly you've never seen anything like it. this family has been amazing as they've rallied around their 12 year old daughter and exhausted every imaginable resource in this hideous fight. they are that kind of family. they've allowed an entire community all over the world to share in their story and have always continued to point anyone watching back to Jesus.

kylie and her family at the
make-a-wish gala this past year.

we've known them for many years. our older kids all lined up together in school ... so we've shared lots of life with them at perimeter school. they have always been a family easy to love, respect and admire ... but, oh friends, even so much more in this year of childhood cancer.

sweet kylie has been through so much. but, i'm telling you, even in this horrible diagnosis the myers family has held hard to their faith. they've inspired and encouraged and uplifted many of us -- multitudes of people -- in their hope.

kylie's hallmark, her smile. from coast to coast people know her story ...  know her struggle ... know her smile. #smiley-for-kylie!

kylie's make-a-wish trip was scheduled for this week. after finishing recent treatment, that was the plan: they'd be on their way to new york city for a broadway tour! that was the wish. that was the destination. that was the desire.

but last night kylie's dad, mark, shared this instead ...

I've never been much of a poet or poetry reader, but I have always had a favorite poem. It has resonated with me even though I never fully understood its meaning.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

by Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold.
Her hardest hue to hold
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

I understand it now. I understand it and wish I didn't.

I never thought I would be writing this entry. I never wavered in the belief that we would be rejoicing in Kylie's complete healing. That does not appear to be the case. After we left Charlotte, we knew that she had another tumor. We assumed that meant we had more radiation treatment ahead. Things descended rather quickly from there. She started to have pain in two other locations. Very specific, sharp pain that came on suddenly. Even though we tried to tell ourselves it could be something else - the flu or a virus, I think Robin and I knew. The pain was too symptomatic of everything we've experienced to date. We made the decision to go full bore to New York on her Make-A-Wish trip because anything else would devastate Kylie.

But on Sunday, she began to get sick and feel very bad. In the late afternoon, we made that familiar trip to Scottish Rite. Our every intention was to speed healing so that we could have a blast on the trip. We got admitted and spent the night. Kylie was put on oxygen because her breathing became unsteady. In the morning, the conversations I had with doctors ripped my soul to shreds. Terms such as disease burden and incurable by standard treatment were used. I had to make decisions that I am completely incapable of and sign forms no one should ever see. The last 48 hours have been torture. The doctors were all on board with getting her in travelling shape and sending her to New York. MAW arranged oxygen there and we were set to go. We decided to let her have this trip before we burdened her with what we were learning.

This morning as I lay on the stupid, red sofabed listening to her shallow breathing, I felt a sudden and clear shift. I decided that since we have never withheld information from her, we needed to tell her everything and let her decide. I told Robin and she agreed. And so we had an awful, terrible conversation with our little girl. I watched it sink in. I watched her process it. I cried with her and answered all of the questions that I could. There are so many that are unanswerable. She decided immediately that she wanted to be at home. Home is her balm. We are not going to New York.

So here we are. What do you do with a little girl who rubs her daddy's beard and tells him it will be alright? What do you do with a baby who reaches out to console her weeping mother? I watched in awe as she accepted each of her wailing sisters into her arms and one by one stroked their hair and told them everything would be okay. How can the patient be the comforter - especially when she is 12? It's because she is Gold. She is better than me.

On a personal note, what do I do with this God? He has provided abundantly for us during this crisis in every way. We have felt loved to an embarrassing proportion. He has bound our hearts together and actually strengthened our marriage. Somehow, we have been united on each and every terrible decision we have had to make. He has given us so many evidences of himself during this time, yet for some reason He has chosen to withhold His hand of healing. I don't understand. What do I do with Him? We have some talking to do, but I have decided that I will follow Kylie in the matter. Somehow, she still holds onto her faith and hasn't given up on Him, so I won't either.

We do not know what the next few days hold. She looks perfect, speaks to us clearly and we all laugh and cry together. But inside, there is an insatiable monster eating away at everything. Our options for further treatment are very limited. We can enter clinical trials, but she has to be 14 days purged of the radiation to even start. We are exploring any option, but her body is so weary it will be a hard call. So we don't know what to do except pull together as a family and love on Kylie.

We aren't ready for an influx of visitors. We will try to respond to texts and emails as we can and will read comments and try to share them with Kylie. Soaking up every minute with Kylie is our main focus. Thank you all for praying for us and encouraging her with your smileys. We aren't giving up and continue to pray for a miracle.

friends, i'm sharing this, first and foremost, asking you to pray big for kylie and her family this week. mark's last sentence: "we aren't giving up and continue to pray for a miracle," spurs us all on.  please pray!

but i'm also sharing this knowing that some of you have asked and are asking and will ask the same question kylie's dad asks:  "on a personal note, what do i do with this God?" 

what do i do with this update on kylie?
what do i do with this issue in my own life?
what do i do with this disappointment or discouragement?
what do i do with this this struggle, this sadness, this need, this news, this no?
what do i do with this, God?

go back and re-read the paragraph with mark's answer.
read it.
read it again.
that final sentence: "somehow, she still holds onto her faith and hasn't given up on Him, so i won't either."

this week i wanted to write something of hope and beauty and life. and instead i woke up and i read this update from the myers family. and i am feeling crushed for these friends. crushed and crying out, "Lord, why? why? why?" 
how can this young girl's make-a-wish week turn into this kind of news? 
"why Lord? why?"

"what do i do with this God?"

and many times already this morning i have had to re-read that paragraph written by kylie's daddy. "somehow, she still holds onto her faith and hasn't given up on Him, so i won't either."

on this same morning, after reading mark's post and writing all that above, i had to rush out the door and attend the chapel program for our lower elementary students. bella's 1st grade class was singing "o worship the King."
i sat in our beautiful chapel waiting for the program's start and mark's words continued to play through my head. "on a personal note, what do i do with this God?"

and in the peace of that chapel, listening to these precious kids worshipping their King, i was overwhelmed with the scope of this life. this time. these years. this gift we hold sometimes too tightly ... sometimes too loosely.

we met the myers family back when our oldest girls, meredith and emily, began 1st grade together. these girls who are now in college, they were these same 1st graders once singing in a chapel program. girls in navy sweaters and khaki skirts. and we were those young parents sitting and watching and listening and loving our six year olds. our very youngest children not yet even born. our dreams all still intact and our hearts beating only to the rhythm and wonder of our oldest girls starting out. beginnings. bright futures. so many blessings.

and that seems just yesterday.

but, just like all of us, we've added some years and babies and joy and laughter and, yes, some pain and suffering.

and today i sit listening to my youngest -- another 1st grade girl.
and today all these 1st grade children stand in chapel singing "o worship the King" ... 
worship Him in the beautiful sweetness of life ...
worship Him in the heartbreaking sadness of life ...
but, worship Him.
worship Him.
w o r s h i p.

and that's what the myers family continues to do. even in the overwhelming sadness of this week. they wrestle and they weep and they cry out wild in their grief, but, they worship the King.

and that's the hope i want to point y'all to today. i can't give you easy and breezy, but i can give you real and raw ... and i can show you a tiny glimpse of a family who couldn't be dealing with deeper grief, and yet who continues to worship their King.

kylie. this girl with a beautiful smile ... this girl who placed her arms around her hurting sisters ... this brave and joyful child of God ... this girl, who her dad calls "gold," she worships her King.

last year, a "smiley-for-kylie" picture perimeter school did to show kylie their support and love!

the sacred steps of life and death

“then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and He delivered 

them from their distress. He made the storm be still, 

and the waves of the sea were hushed.… the waters were quiet, 

and He brought them to their desired haven. 

let them thank the Lord for His steadfast love, for His wondrous works …” 

~ psalm 107:28-31

just a tiny step behind loving her family and Jesus, my mother-in-law loved the ocean.

she loved her toes in the sand and a good book in her hands. and that’s how we’d like to picture her as she passed this week from her earthly pain to her eternal place in heaven.

only two months from diagnosis to death – hard to understand, even harder to accept. but we are so thankful that God has been good and gracious in these final days. we praise Him for her life, her laughter and her great, great ability to love others well.

we adore our mom, wife, grandma, sister and friend … and trust that someday, because we share Jesus, we will share the beauty of His creation on the shores of heaven.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

i’m not sure i have a category in which to place these last days spent with marilyn in hospice. but if i did, i would call it the sacred. for to sit at her bedside in the final hours of her life, that’s exactly what it was. precious. a privilege ... pure and sacred.

to watch this woman who has been so much more than just a mother-in-law --- who, truly, has been a second mom. a woman who has molded my husband into the excellent man he is today. a woman who has always embraced and enjoyed her role as grandmother to my children. how grateful i am for the way she has poured into my life. and how grateful i was to be included in this family ... in their great moments of joy and in their great moments of grief.

and just as in life, these final days were that sweet blend of both. 

God – the giver of life -- the giver of all good gifts -- gave joy and grief. and as mom traveled closer to the gates of heaven, we moved back and forth between the laughter and tears.
and it was absolutely sacred.

tuesday was her best day. somehow she seemed more peaceful, settled, sure. we saw the fear leave her face. her smile was soft and her wit quick. karen, her dear friend, dad, and i, sat with mom discussing the details of her funeral service. she wanted it this way. she was able to offer input; shake her head, say yes or no, and share her requests. we read lyrics, listened to songs and suggested scripture. what a sweet, sweet time. morbid to discuss one’s with funeral with them? --  no, not at all. not morbid, but sacred.

the day ended with all of us gathered around her -- loving husband, sister, and children. words were spoken. prayers prayed. hands held. my sister-in-law, jen, brilliantly opened a bottle of champagne and we toasted mom. marilyn couldn’t manage a sip, but i wrapped her hand around that plastic cup and helped her hold it. she was able to lift it with us when jen declared, “to mom! to marilyn! cheers to her life… to her beautiful life!”

it was as sacred as any communion wine ever taken. 

sacred to see God’s glory shining in the life of His good and faithful servant.

sacred to hold the hand of a woman who has held us all in her arms, her prayers and in her heart.

sacred that He would grant grace and provide peace.

sacred that He would hold off death until relationships were restored and a stronger love resurrected.

sacred that He would hold us all in these final moments together.

the next day was harder.

wednesday the struggle of passing from this earth to eternity became more obvious to all of us. mom wasn’t really communicating any longer and with each passing hour we were losing her more and more. it's a heartbreaking place to be.

that evening, jen and i ran out to grab a quick bite to eat. jen, sleeping with her mom each night in hospice, hadn’t left marilyn's side since monday. when we returned we found rick in the chair next to his mom. both asleep and rick holding her hand. mother and son. when i saw the tears streaking his face, i knew i was seeing yet another kind of holding … another moment of sacred.

on that last night of marilyn’s life, her daughter, jen, curled up right by her side. she was there for the final breath of her mama. holding her. comforting her. mother and daughter. beautiful and heartbroken, and yes, so very sacred.

we celebrated mom's life yesterday in south carolina. (another service will be held next weekend in her hometown of oakmont, pennyslvania). our oldest children read scripture, rick, jen and i had the honor to speak about our mom. the music, the eulogy, the words, the friends who came --- all of it a testimony to the woman marilyn mcnatt was. all of it evidence of the godly life she lived. all of it pointing to her faith as a follower of Jesus -- and all of it, absolutely sacred.

i know my father-in-law, ron, wants to give a special thank you to the friends who have been reaching out and to those who celebrated marilyn with us on saturday. your words were so kind and encouraging. it is amazing to hear and see the people who were impacted by marilyn's life. i can't tell you how many people said to me, "she was an inspiration!" when i got up to speak, i asked people to raise their hands if they had ever been ministered to by marilyn --- hand after hand after hand was raised.

our family also wants to say a special thank you to pastor chris spires and robbie taylor from the first baptist church of murrells inlet. they not only did an outstanding job on yesterday's service, but also have been a constant source of encouragement and support for my in-laws throughout this journey.

last night, after the service and celebration of mom, our kids headed to the beach. it had been a rainy kind of day, but the sun came out just in time for a glorious sunset. my oldest, emily, said, "maybe one of the best i've ever seen on pawleys island!"

my photo-crazy kids captured these images ---

and in the click of their cameras over the water, and in the dance of their feet upon the shore, and in their laughter and in their love of this glorious ocean, is evidence of their grandmother's legacy and life.
i have no doubt, marilyn elliott mcnatt would have been so pleased.
she loved the ocean -- the demonstration of God's beauty and His power here ... and the hope and promise of what He has for us beyond the horizon.

---- the sacred steps of life which lead us into the loving arms of our Father in heaven.

“when we are on the beach we only see a small part of the ocean.

however, we know there is much more beyond the horizon. we

only see a small part of God’s great love, a few jewels of His great

riches, but we know there is much more beyond the horizon. 
the best is yet to come, when we see Jesus face-to-face.” ~ corrie ten boom

700 miles to hug our grammie

this weekend, the kids and i made a quick trip to south carolina.
six hours to pawleys island and six hours back to atlanta.

we drove this distance so the kids could hug their grammie.
we drove this distance so they could tell her they love her.
we drove this distance so that their grandma could hug them tightly ... whisper words of love ... and even share a few little laughs together.

it was a moment, both precious and painful.

tomorrow morning grammie will begin hospice.

this cancer battle has been unfair from the very beginning. unfair and unrelenting. and, frankly, our grammie has better things to do than hang out with this insidious beast.

our grandma, our mom, our marilyn, well ... she has Jesus to meet.

it's not that marilyn’s given up. oh no -- she's a fighter! she is! this amazing mother-in-law of mine, well, she'd wrestle and wrangle with the best of them (you know, mom, i mean that in the sweetest way possible)! but this dear woman has always been a big believer in quality over quantity. any of you who know her, know this about her --- she’s a quality gal through and through. and, let me tell you, for her, the quality hasn’t been all that great these days.

this earthly body is failing and God's heavenly hand has been clear.

and saturday she asked to see her grandkids.
(jen's kids -- from utah -- had just been with her over christmas).

it was a quick trip.
a short visit.
and a not long enough hug.

mom was amazing this morning with her grandkids. she really rallied! this week has been especially hideous and hard on her, but when the kids walked into her room today she had her beautiful smile and even managed a little spunky bantering with all of us.

and it was worth every one of those 700+ miles we traveled.

toward the end of our visit we had a chance to read through today’s Jesus Calling devotional. it's the daily devotional which marilyn and i have both been using this past year. and, this morning, when i woke up and read today's passage, i knew i’d have to share it with her -- and so with all of us together in her hospital room, we read these words:

"Come to me with a thankful heart, so that you can enjoy My Presence. This is the day that I have made. I want you to rejoice today, refusing to worry about tomorrow. Search for all that I have prepared for you, anticipating abundant blessings and accepting difficulties as they come. 
Come to me with all your needs, knowing that My glorious riches are a more-than-adequate supply, Stay in constant communication with Me, so that you can live above your circumstances even while you are in the midst of them. Present your requests to Me with thanksgiving, and My Peace, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your heart and mind." ~ Jesus Calling

what a day to be reminded of God's promises ---
"this is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it." ~ psalm 118:24

and, "do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."  ~ philippians 4:6-7

reading these scriptures to my mother-in-law, i was overwhelmed with the assurance that for her these words are pure truth, pure treasure, and yes, even pure triumph.

marilyn isn't facing hospice tomorrow morning, she's facing her Holy God, her Savior, her Redeemer.

cancer isn't going to win this battle, because we know, just as she knows, Christ has already won the war.

and that's what marilyn would want you to know --- no matter how this looks and feels here on earth, cancer is only a vicious disease, but Christ is her Victorious Defender.

"He will swallow up death forever! the Sovereign Lord will wipe away all tears." ~ isaiah 25:8

cancer, do you hear that?
do you hear that?
HE.WILL.SWALLOW.UP.DEATH.FOREVER.
you can bank on it.

"o death, where is your victory?
o death, where is your sting?" ~ 1 corinthians 15:55

yes, hearts are heavy and tears keep coming. we are sad. brokenhearted. we had all hoped this would go differently.
but this weekend, we went to south carolina and hugged grandma, told her we loved her ...
in some ways those words and hugs felt sadly insufficient. just not enough.
but sufficiency comes knowing that she loves Jesus and that He loves her.
no matter how much we love each other in our earthly way ... it is only the heavenly love of our Father which can ever be enough.

rick, his dad, and his sister, jen, continue to stay close by mom’s bedside. they have been an amazing team especially in these past few days. they love her so much.
after getting the kids home to georgia and settled, i’ll fly back to be with them this week.
we covet your continued prayers. it's hard to express our gratitude for your words, encouragement and kindness.
we know so many of you love marilyn dearly.

the art of scrambling an egg

i'm kind of embarrassed about it actually.

i mean i'm 46 years old.
i've been married almost 25 years and cooking meals for much longer than that.

i should have known.

except i didn't.

it took my middle daughter -- the almost 15 year old -- to point out my opportunity for improvement. we all know 15 year olds have an uncanny knack for noticing our imperfections.

apparently, i have been making my scrambled eggs ALL WRONG MY WHOLE LIFE and it took a girl who has never once bought a carton of eggs to tell me.

i'd like to blame my culinary ignorance on my own mother, but i can't. i'm sure she shared the secret and i'm sure i was much too busy or much too rushed or much too smart to listen.

no, i can only point the finger at myself. you see, for years i've been making scrambled eggs. in the past couple of decades i've probably scrambled upwards of a few thousand eggs. heck, they are a great means of protein, always accessible and easy to make.

in our house, eggs, simply are a staple.

my kids and husband and houseguests have been happily (or so it seemed) shoveling my eggs into their mouths for years. no one has ever said anything -- (not to me at least).

but every time i would go somewhere for a real breakfast -- whether it be greasy diner or swanky brunch place -- i always would think to myself,  "my eggs are just not this good."

my in-laws make wonderful eggs. in fact, over the years my kids have made many comments on how good grammie and grandpa's eggs are. once i paid attention to the pan they used for their eggs and i went out the very next week and purchased a brand new pan. seriously, y'all, i did.

i purchased a new pan but i never stopped to ask them what they did differently.

so all these years and all these eggs later, i have been guilty of serving rubbery, dried-out, pathetic plates of breakfast. at the speed of morning light i've scrambled and scurried around the kitchen. i've added milk and cheese and more salt and still my eggs were not all that great.

until today.

until this morning, when after googling (yes, googling) an article about the best way to scramble eggs, i came upon these not-really-revolutionary hints.

1. whisk them way longer than you think necessary.
whipping your eggs creates air bubbles and (i don't really understand why) but this is good for your eggs. they'll be lighter, creamier. better. trust me.
so people, whip it and whip it good! crack that ... egg. (devo, 1980).

2. don't add anything. 
there's no need to add milk. WHAAAAT???
i grew up a child of the 70s. we added milk to everything -- something to do with "stretching" our food, i believe. but no need with these eggs. better to leave it out altogether.

3. cook them on low and cook them s l o w.
shoot! i just knew that was coming. i could have guessed this would be on the list. it always is. no matter what i'm doing -- whether painting a piece of furniture or reading with my first grader or scrambling my eggs -- i always find out, be it from google or God, that i should slow down.

and so that was it.
these three easy steps.

who knew?

well, you all probably did.
this is probably like some great-egg-conspiracy and i am probably the last 40-something-year-old woman to become egg-enlightened.
but, here's the deal, i'm wondering if, deep down, i ever really wanted to know. whenever i've scrambled eggs for my family i've always felt --- "THERE! a hot breakfast. it's gotta be better than a bowl of fruit loops." 

and taking extra time to whisk or wait for slow cooking? are you kidding me ... 
no, i've taken those eggs from carton to pan to plate in a matter of minutes.
i've probably prided myself on my expedited eggs.
i'm all about cutting corners and shaving off seconds.
heck, i'm surprised i haven't just shaken the egg raw and served it with a straw.
KIDS: HERE. HURRY. EAT. EGGS.

but we all know this isn't just about eggs.

i mean look at those lessons:
1. take time to prepare them right
2. don't add anything extra
3. go slow and keep it low

those hints aren't only for eggs, but for everything.
these aren't only culinary lessons, but life lessons.

when we take time to do things right, keep things simple and move a little more slowly things taste better, go better, ARE better.

maybe you disagree.
maybe this is only about eggs.
maybe i'm stretching it (child of the 70s).
maybe you are a little worried about  me knowing i've just devoted an entire blog post to eggs.
maybe i'm just weird.

speaking of weird, for years i've been trying to convince my husband that we need to get us some chickens. i can just see it out there in our backyard. (right next to the trampoline) ... a darling little hen house, a cocky rooster and his beautiful brood of egg layers.
i mean, can't you just picture the children right before school, each day, gathering fresh eggs in a basket with a blue and white checked cloth? -- {yeah, me neither. that part is definitely stretching it}.

but maybe now. now after my great egg epiphany. now that i've learned the art of scrambling. now my husband might be more egg-static (sorry) about us getting a few chickens! i'm going to go ask him ...
right after i finish another plate of eggs!

light and life

this weekend always feels a tiny bit dark for me.
the weekend after new years when we take it all down.
clean it all up.
put it all away.
don't get me wrong, i'm ready.
i'm ready to sweep all that (once) glorious pine from the cracks and crevices of my home.
sweep. vacuum. one year i used a blower. (yes.i.did).
it's time. but this morning, the house feels dark. the tree lights are back in the boxes, the candles gone from the windows, the mantles bare.
the shimmer of Christmas now silent.
and this verse is running through my early morning brain ---

"Jesus spoke to them saying, 'I am the light of the world. whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." ~john 8:12 

we can wrap up our christmas lights, but if we choose to wrap ourselves closer to Him, we aren't left to live in darkness.
there's something really lovely about the lights of our holiday ...
but there's real life in the light of the Holy One.
--- the light, not of a season, but the light of a Savior.

when january begins to darken for you ...
light a fire in the fireplace.
light a candle on your kitchen counter.
but be reminded.
reminded of the Light-Bringing-Babe.
open His Word to the illuminating presence of Jesus in january ... february ... march ... april ...

wishing y'all light and life in this new year! xoxo