TEARS turned into DANCING

"You turned my wailing into dancing;

you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy..."

Psalm 30:11

~~~~~~~~~~

There is much to share about the JOYous day that was October 27, 2012... my brother's long awaited wedding day.  And I will be sharing pictures of all the fun and wonderful things of that day very soon.

But first, I need to share something else that has not left my heart or my mind about that day...

...something that shows me what it means to have true faith in a God that is good and keeps His promises.

...something that bears witness to the invisible, but so very real, help of God... that thing called "grace".

...something that is a result of prayer, but continues to need prayer.

...something that brings me tears of sorrow, but also tears of joy.

In the wedding program, there was a page memorializing the family members of those who have passed.  The last name listed is not our biological family member; but we consider him a family member nonetheless.

Seeing his name in print and later hearing Father Dan verbally speak it as we prayed for these individuals brought me and his family to tears.

Tears are something they are used to.  They have cried thousands upon thousands of them in the past several years.

...they cried tears of sorrow when they learned their adoption of their daughter/granddaughter/niece was being contested.   

...they cried tears of joy when they won their first court case; allowing her to continue to be their daughter.

...they cried more tears of sorrow as the adoption battle raged on and they fought through an appellate court case.

...they cried more tears of joy when they won that case too.

...they cried, once again, when they learned the fight was not over and that they would be taking the battle to keep their Waverley to the Supreme Court.

...they cried tears when they lost their two year adoption battle.

...they cried tears as they watched their daughter/granddaughter/niece leave their family.

...they cried tears of heartache and despair as they mourned the loss of their precious girl.

...and then, they cried tears when their husband/son/brother was called Home suddenly and much too early.

...they have cried so many, many tears because they have had to endure losses so deep, so sudden, so great, so soon.

And on Saturday, they cried tears of happiness for my brother on his joyous day; but also tears of sorrow as they missed him.  Saw and heard his name.  And missed her.

And those thousands of shed tears... they are what make this "thing" I need to share with you so amazing.  It's what makes it a testament to their faith, to God's grace, to the power of prayer.  

On Saturday, amidst their heartache and despite their tears...



They danced.

Every single one of them.

They held hands, they smiled, they hugged.

They celebrated for someone else and they lived in spite of their broken hearts. 

And they danced.

It's easy to say that we have faith and that we will trust God when things are going well.  

It's something quite different to live and breathe that faith when your world has been torn apart... over and over again.

But these people, this family, they are the real deal.

Because as I watched them dance, fighting my own tears that wanted to fall, I saw their faith.  I saw God holding them up; making their feet move and their hands wave.  I saw His goodness as I watched Harper dance with her cousin and hang on the back of her uncle.  I saw the evidence of His grace, of the prayers, of their total and complete reliance on Him and the promise that he gives...

that He will turn their tears into dancing.

~~~~~~~~~~

I know many of you have prayed for this family over the years and I needed you to see this.  I needed you to see their real, living faith.  I needed you to see that your prayers matter.  And I needed you to know that they will continue to need your prayers.

Molly recently shared some news about a new joy that she is experiencing.  Her tears are not over.  There is no doubt that there will be many more tears of grief and sorrow.  But God has started to redeem her suffering and turn her tears into dancing.  Be joyful for her and with her.  And continue to pray for her and Harper as they navigate this new chapter in their lives.

And continue to pray for Matt's family and for the God given relationships that exist between them and Molly.  Pray for those special relationships be sustained and grow stronger; never to be weakened.

Pray for them all.  That their hearts be restored, their suffering be redeemed, their sorrow be turned to joy, and their tears be turned into dancing. 

Lots more dancing.

{This is Matt's dad's hand, wearing his Waverley bracelet, dancing with Harper}

Daddy

Like he does every night, Vance walked in the back door from work last night.  Upon hearing the door open, three little people jumped up, ran to the door, and squealed in unison...


"Daddy!"


And in that moment, my heart was crushed and I broke into tears for the zillionth time that day.


It's such a simple thing.  One I take for granted, I suppose.  Hearing my children greet their Daddy when he comes home from work.  I expect it to happen.  In fact, I generally count down the minutes waiting for Vance to open the back door and for the kids to greet him with an excited...


"Daddy!"


But yesterday, I heard it with different ears.  And I realized, perhaps for the very first time, that moments like those should not and cannot be taken for granted.  Because I know a sweet, good, wonderful, faith-filled mother who will never again have the pleasure of hearing that kind of "welcome home" again.  


And it is crushing my heart.


In the early hours of this morning, Matt Nagel was welcomed home.  But it wasn't with a squealing "Daddy" by his six year old daughter, Harper.  It was by his heavenly Father who I am certain welcomed him home with open arms and the words we all hope to one day hear:  


"Well done, good and faithful servant."


Matt was a good and faithful servant.  His faith inspired and touched thousands of people that followed he and Molly's heartbreaking journey to adopt their daughter, Waverley.  His love for God was evident.  And now he is in the eternal presence of his heavenly Father.


And Harper has lost her earthly Daddy.


And that is crushing my heart.


Because when it comes to earthly Daddy's, Matt was a good one.


A really good one.


Molly recently wrote about what a great Daddy Matt was.  She even said that it is her hope that every child could have a Daddy like Matt.  Pretty high praise!


Tonight, I was rereading many of Molly's posts; pouring over the many family pictures in which Matt had his signature happy smile.  But there was one picture that was different and it struck me.

I noticed how Matt has his arm gently wrapped around Harper's back as they eat their dinner in the basement (a reward for Harps good behavior).  It is such a simple and unexpected gesture of love while doing something as ordinary as eating dinner.


I think that picture and gesture kind of sums up what kind of Daddy Matt was...


gentle
caring
kind
fun
protective
delighted in the ordinary things


And it crushes my heart to know that Harper will not have the privilege of enjoying many more meals with her Daddy's arm wrapped around her.  


And so I pray that her heavenly Father will take his place; wrapping HIS loving arms gently around her... just like her Daddy did.


If you have grown to care for his family, please join me in that prayer tonight, tomorrow, and in the weeks and months to come.  


Because a sweet and wonderful little girl has lost a really, really good Daddy.


And it is crushing my heart.

An Empty Seat & An Invitation to Pray

Vance was running late from work tonight and we had to start dinner without him in order to get to a Basketball game on time.  Both kids asked multiple times about the whereabouts of their Daddy.  There was an empty seat at our little table tonight.  Emily even proclaimed that it was "so sad that Daddy was not sitting in his seat".


Both of their reactions struck me for a couple of reasons.


First, it shows me how much they enjoy and even crave the time we spend together as a family at the dinner table.  So as hard as it is for me to make family meals, I continue to realize how important it is.  And so I press on in the meal making department.


But secondly, and more importantly, I felt an overwhelming gratitude and peace in knowing that we would only temporarily have an empty seat at our table.  Tomorrow night, it will be filled again.  


Not everyone has that peace.  


During this special time of the year, there are people everywhere who have to cope with the fact that they permanently have an empty seat at their table.  It will not be filled again.  Not tomorrow.  Not next week.  And not on Christmas.  All over, there will be empty toddler seats, empty adult seats, and even empty infant seats.  It is a painful reality that, truthfully, is almost too much for me to think about. 


But I am thinking about it.  In fact, I can't get it out of my mind.


I'm thinking about friends who will be celebrating the holidays for the first time this year with an empty seat at their table.  The "most wonderful time of the year" will likely be the most difficult time of the year for these friends.  


And so I've decided to pray for them in a concentrated and special way for the remainder of the week.  I will be offering all of my daily Masses this week for these special friends.  I know they need extra grace this year; especially now as they prepare for, and anticipate celebrating Christmas with an empty seat at their table.


And I invite you to join me.  If you feel inclined to pray, please leave a comment indicating that you will be making a concentrated prayer effort for these families this week.  And if you know of another family who will have an empty seat at the table this year, please include their name in the comment section so we can add them to our concentrated prayers.

 I have three families that weigh heavy on my heart whom I will be praying for this week...

Matt & Molly and Suzie & JR will both have an empty toddler seat at their Christmas tables.  

Please pray that they find peace and hope amidst their heartaches this season.  Matt and Molly's story can be found at www.wavybel.blogspot.com.  Suzie & JR's story can be found at www.lindsaysheart.blogspot.com. 

The third family does not yet have an empty seat, but they live with the painful reality that it could be empty in the near future.  Their precious little girl is unable to sit in her chair... her little body simply can't support its own weight anymore.  They live in hope for a miracle healing, but are also experiencing the fear that accompanies not knowing how many more Christmas' they might have her at their table.  Amy and her family's story can be found at www.livianasjourney.blogspot.com.




As heartbreaking as it is to think about these friends and their situations, I am encouraged as I remember that the specialness of this season is not about the baked goods, lights, decorations, carols, parties, or even the family celebratory meals.  It's really about the hope that we can all have in knowing that one day, in eternity, there will be no empty seats at the table! 


Thank you for considering this invitation to pray.  For these families and for any others you would like to include.

Life is Unfair

Life is often unfair.

On June 25^th, Molly will turn 15 months.

On the same date, Emily will have just turned exactly 3 ½ years old and will walk down the aisle dressed to the nines as a flower girl in a wedding.

I would like to be posting pictures of these events…. 

Pictures of my sweet girls… celebrating birthday milestones and dressing up in fancy clothes to celebrate happy events.

But I can’t do it. 

Not right now. 

I am too sad to highlight these simple, yet precious, things about my own girls. 

Because my heart is broken.

Broken because these days in June are excruciatingly painful for two friends who no longer have their own baby girls.  The dates that are supposed to be happy in June have turned into painful, awful ones for these two mothers.

I can’t post pictures of my own girls when my mind is so confused about the unfairness of this fallen, broken world.

It doesn’t seem right.

Or fair.

*****

Almost exactly 3 months ago, I shopped in Charleston, SC with Suzie.  We had so much fun picking out clothes for our little girls to wear this summer. 

We found some really good sales.  I specifically remember that Suzie was delighted to have found an orange tutu and matching birthday shirt... the perfect outfit for her daughter to wear this summer for her 3^rd birthday.

We went to a consignment shop and found beautiful smocked dresses for our girls to wear this summer.  Suzie said she was going to try to learn to make headbands to match the clothes.

I picked out a pair of PJs for Emily that had ballet shoes on them complete with a tutu.  I also picked up a similar pair with a kitty cat on them with a bright pink tutu.  That pair of PJs was for Suzie’s daughter.  I planned to send it to her for her birthday this June.

My girls are wearing the smocked dresses, tutu’s and pink PJs I purchased on that trip.

But Suzie’s daughter is not.  Not anymore.

And it’s all I can think about...

How unfair and painful life can be.

Lindsay turned three on June 11th.

She was only three for 7 days. 

Without warning or explanation, on June 17^th, while her Mama rocked her body in her arms, Lindsay’s spirit soared and her soul was welcomed into the loving arms of her Heavenly Father.

And I can’t get the thought of those clothes we purchased together out of my mind. 

Clothes are just clothes.  Nothing more than simple material possessions.

But for me, those clothes that will no longer be worn are an excruciatingly painful reminder that life is unexpected.  

And unfair.

I know that this world is fallen.  That we are not destined for this life, but for one far better than this.  That our Earthly life is simply a tool to get us to our eternal destination.  

But even with that knowledge, it all still seems unfair.

Very, very unfair.

For those of you who have followed Lindsay's journey alongside me, please keep her family in your prayers this week.  Her funeral will be on Friday.  More information can be found here.

*****

While I'm thinking about the coming days in June and the unfairness of life, I'd be remiss in not mentioning another mother who needs your prayers this week.

Waverley will turn three on June 28th.

Her mama will not be there to celebrate this milestone.  She will not be able to give her a tea party, dress her in a tutu, or even tell her she loves her.  

Waverley will turn three in the home of someone who didn't know her for the first 2 1/2 years of her life.  

And this is just another reminder that life is unexpected and often, unfair.

Many of you followed Matt & Molly's journey to adopt Waverley.  Many of you have asked for updates.  I have had some contact with Molly recently.  They are surviving, but are struggling with the impending date of June 28th.  Please keep them in your prayers as they tread through these new and unknown waters... surviving meaningful milestones while their daughter celebrates them without them.

*****

As unfair as it seems, on June 25th, I will dress my own girls in fancy dresses.  I will fix their hair with hair bows.  And I will celebrate their milestones with them, taking pictures of these special events.  


But I will do it with a reverence and appreciation that is so easily lost in the busy moments of life.  I will savor the moments a little more than normal, knowing that life is unexpected. 


And often, unfair.

*****

Thank you for praying for my friends this week. 

One Last Time

I am here, in this blogosphere, to ask for your prayers for Matt, Molly & Wavy.


One Last Time.


Tomorrow, they will go to a different court.  With a different judge.  In a different seat. With hearts praying for a different outcome.


One Last Time...


They will place their daughter's future in the hands of a legal system that has previously failed them.


And they hope against all hope that this time, the result will be different.


But their hope is not that they will be able to remain parenting their daughter...


Molly has the heart of a mother.  Despite her deepest desire to parent the baby she has raised for over 2 1/2 years, she now prays that another mother, Wavy's birth mother, will be able to do what she is not legally able to do.  I can't imagine having to do that.  Her heart beats for her daughter and she wants only what is best for her... even though the prayers she is asking us to pray must be some of the hardest prayers a mother must ever pray.  She prays them anyway, because it is what she feels is best for her daughter.


And so I will pray them too.


One Last Time.


I ask you to join me in praying for a new outcome in this heartbreaking story.


One Last Time.


Click here for specific prayer requests for tomorrow.

Going There

This is "the most wonderful time of the year".  


Right?


Christmas time... it's supposed to be the happiest time of the year.  There's music and food and decorations and gifts.  Lights and movies and snack mix.  And family.


Really, when you get down to it, the lights and food and decorations are really just accessories, at best, to the family celebrations that are brought about by this special holiday.  


At it's core, Christmas is about family.


Jesus was born into a family on Christmas day.  And by sending Jesus, God's own son, He paved a way for us to be a part of His eternal family one day.  And we celebrate that miracle, that hope, amongst our own families at Christmas time.  


Some families are large, some are small, some are separated by many miles.  Some families are close and enjoy each other's company immensely, some do not.  Regardless of size or distance or closeness, I feel confident that being with family during the holidays is what most people cherish.  It's what makes the holidays the holidays.  


During this "most wonderful time of the year", I've found myself feeling sad.   


Families have been and are being separated in my midst.  My heart is broken for the heartaches that so many families must endure during this supposed-to-be-happy time of the year.  


Vance's co-worker's wife, after battling leukemia for over 15 years, was killed suddenly in a car crash.  Her husband and two children must face this Christmas with a family that does not seem whole.  Their wife and mother is missing.


Another co-worker's sister, in the prime of her life, is battling Stage IV lung cancer.  Their family must face this Christmas with the uncertainty of not knowing what their family will look like at this time next year.  


A dear friend just told us of her cancer recurrence.  She must take her family to an unknown place this holiday season to get tests and second opinions and statistics given to her.  Her 16 year old daughter must face this Christmas with the fear that Christmas time for her family may never be the same. 


And then there is the one that hurts me most.  If you read my blog, you know them well.  The family that will soon be torn apart at the mercy of a legal system that seems anything but just.  This family had to face Christmas knowing, with certainty, it would be their last time to watch their youngest daughter experience the magic of Christmas.  


And these are just a few of the families whose landscapes are being torn apart during this "most wonderful time of the year".  I feel almost sick to my stomach as I type these words.  


Vance often tells me not to "go there".  Not to allow myself to think about these things.  My mom says the same thing.  She says that I put myself in the shoes of the person who is hurting and it becomes too much for my heart to bear.  


Quite frankly, I don't know how not to "go there".  I don't know how I can know about these hurts and not feel sad.  I don't know how not to want to ease the burden in some way.  I think I have been given a heart that feels the pains of others.  And I'd like to think that being empathetic is a gift that I can use to help others in need.  I just don't always know how to do that.


Father Dan once told me that when we "pray for someone", we are not just praying alongside them.  We are actually praying in their stead.  When I offer to pray for someone, I am offering to stand in their place... to pray the words they need prayed at a time when they are too burdened and sad to pray the words themselves.


Today, I'm "going there".  I'm sad beyond sad as I think about the families who may find themselves smaller in number at this time next year... who are facing this special time amidst heartache and fear.  


And I'm particularly broken hearted thinking about the family who will go to court, yet again, tomorrow to learn the details of how and when their 2 1/2 year old daughter will be taken from them; forever changing the landscape of their special family.  


And so I will do the only thing I know to do.  


Pray in their stead.   


I will pray the things they are too burdened to pray themselves.
{If you have followed the journey of Matt, Molly & Wavy, please read here to learn of their latest needs.}


And as I pray for these hurting families, I will force myself to remember that it is this very "most wonderful time of the year" that will give each of these families a reason to have hope... to celebrate even in the midst of tears...


It is because of the miracle of Christmas that these separated  families will one day be reunited.  They will be made whole once again.  It is promised.  It is a certainty.  

I Can't See the Plan...

Several months ago, Father Dan gave a homily on trusting God.  A topic that always speaks to me as trust is something I struggle with.

He spoke about growing up on a farm.  For fun, he and his many siblings would sometimes climb up on top of the silo.  When they were atop that silo, he spoke of how they could see so much more than they could from down below... everything was clearer, the view was not obstructed.  Everything made more sense when viewed from the top of that silo.


He likened those experiences to God.  God is on top of the silo.  He sees everything from a heavenly perspective and His view... well, it is unobstructed because it is eternal.  We are down below and our view is obstructed.  It is obstructed in the sense that for the most part, we are only able to see things from an earthly perspective.  We can't see the clear plan... the one that God has for our salvation.

Tonight, I sure wish I could get up on top of a silo and get an unobstructed view.  

For well over a year, I have prayed and prayed for God to work in the lives of my friends, Matt and Molly and their girls.  I have personally witnessed thousands of people band together to provide emotional, financial, and prayerful support for this family.  And the prayers of those thousands... well, they have not been answered in the way we had all hoped.  While I'm absolutely certain that God has, in fact, been working in their lives, I simply cannot see the plan.  My view is completely obstructed and I am desperate to see the eternal plan.  


Tomorrow, Matt & Molly will go to court for the last time.  The reason for this court appearance is awful, horrific, and beyond my comprehension.  They have to sit in a court room and listen to people argue over how to transition their beautiful 2 1/2 year old daughter out of their home to live with a parent (not two parents, but a single parent) whom she has never met.  Just typing it makes me feel ill. 


Again, I wish I had a silo.


But even though I can't see the plan, I will continue to pray for God to do big things in this situation.  Because I know He can.  Even when I can't see it.  He is on top of the silo.  And I am not.


Would you join me?


Molly has asked for specific prayers for tomorrow... you can read about it on their blog at www.wavybel.blogspot.com.  

No Words Right Now

http://www.wavybel.blogspot.com

I Still Have My Bracelet

My family has prayed for "Wavy" and her family for well over a year now.  


Like many others, we wore blue bracelets with the words "For the Love of Wavy" to remind ourselves to pray for her situation during the time that her case was in the Appeals process.

{November 2009}

After the Appellate Court ruled in favor of M&M, we got a bit lackadaisical and  took our prayer bracelets off.  


Truthfully, I haven't seen those bracelets in our household for quite some time.  I'm not sure why.  I think I was overconfident that our prayers had, indeed, been answered and our bracelets were pushed to corners of our household that are only seen on rare occasions.


Last week, when I learned the news that the Supreme Court of Kansas had ruled against M&M and that Wavy would soon be removed from their home, I was unable to hide my raw emotion in front of my children.  I was forced to try to explain to Noah the cause for my tears.  I tried to be vague so as not to scare him, but he was familiar enough with Wavy that I felt I had to tell him the truth about the situation.


The way he responded to my explanation broke my heart at the time.  


He simply looked at me through puppy dog eyes and said... 


"But Mommy, we prayed for her.  We even wore those bracelets."


He was right.  


And I was forced to try to explain an even more difficult concept to him... that sometimes God doesn't answer our prayers in the way that we want Him to.  


After mangling an explanation about prayer and God's goodness in spite of bad things, Noah's eyes lit up as if he had just come up with the most brilliant of ideas, and he excitedly said the following words to me...


"Mom!  I still have my bracelet.  I can still pray for her!"


With that, I hugged him tighter than normal and told him how much I loved him.  And that was the end of it.


Until last night.


As I was doing my nightly clean-up-the-mess-from-the-day routine, I picked up Noah's little bucket that houses his "Silly Bandz".  As I picked it up to take it to his room, I was immediately struck by something....

Somehow, somewhere, his blue bracelet had resurfaced and was sitting at the top of his beloved collection of Silly Bandz!  I honestly don't know where he found it or when he found it, but there it was, perched on the top as if it were the most important "band" amidst the hundreds of other bands within that small bucket.


What struck me was that something I consider to be so mind boggling and hard to comprehend, let alone explain, is very clear to a small child.  


That even when it seems God has not answered our prayers, we can, and SHOULD, still pray! 


We still have our bracelets!


Noah didn't have to think through the million different nuances I've tried to rationalize in my mind over the past week.  He just did what he knew to do.  He found his bracelet.  He prayed.  With the same level of trust that he prayed the last times he wore the bracelet.  He does not question whether or not God can answer his prayer.  He just trusts.


I have prayed for many miracles in my lifetime.  I've witnessed many small miracles and some big ones too.  And there have been miracles that I prayed for that didn't happen... at least not in the way I wanted them to happen.


I do believe in miracles.  


I do believe that God can make possible the impossible.


Yet, I know that He doesn't always perform the miracles I ask for.


Trying to balance the hope that He will answer my continued pleas for His intercession in this case with the reality of knowing that His ways are not always my ways is difficult.  I often feel like I'm risking my own faith by asking Him to do something so big - to perform a miracle - to make possible the impossible.  I don't want to be in a position of wanting to question His plan if it happens to be different than what I've prayed.  I feel vulnerable in asking.


But I will do it anyway.


I still have my bracelet!


I spoke with Molly this evening. 


She, too, is wrestling with the delicate balance between being realistic about their current situation, yet knowing that God is still able to intervene in this case.  Knowing he can perform a miracle.  Knowing he can make possible the impossible.


She and Matt are exhausting every single option they possibly have to be able to keep Wave in their home.


But the reality of the matter is that it will, indeed, take a miracle to make that happen.


What will the miracle look like?


An open mind.  Eyes that see things in a new light.  A transformed heart.


The miracle must be in the mind, the eyes, and the heart of the birthfather and of his counsel.


I do not have liberty to share any more than this.  But if you happen to be reading this blog post, I beg you to stop right this very minute, and pray that minds be opened, eyes see things anew, and hearts be transformed.  Right now, I ask you to pray for a miracle.  Right now, I ask you to pray that God make possible the impossible.  


Be vulnerable.  Risk it.  Ask.


I still have my bracelet!  


Do you?

Lastly, Molly has given me permission to share their blog with you.  It is here at www.wavybel.blogspot.com