Thursday, April 7, 2011


So, it can be said about me that when I am stressed or heavy hearted, I bake. Maybe there is something stewing heavily in my heart that doesn't have a lot of answers or is just plain heavy. No words but their are ingredients and I can create something delicious in the matter of an hour or so. That is satisfying for the moment. Just yesterday I noticed something... homemade blueberry muffins late the night before, afternoon chocolate, oatmeal, peanut butter no bake cookies, and a from scratch apple pie, should I hear a siren or see the red flags?? I see satisfied kids and a husband that laughs at my full kitchen countertops, but really what does this say about me? I will say that while baking most times unless I'm baking with my chicks, that I sometimes am mind grinding out whatever the heavy may be while baking... insight could be that my souls wants resolution that comes as easily as batch of cookies, done. Perfect.. solved. Or what I want this God given heart that's been given to the Lord seventeen years, that baking might be the white knuckles turning back flesh colored. Maybe I am wrestling trying desperately to say oh no Lord, it's you.. all you. I can control nothing...nothing. You have it all orchestrated so beautifully for me to see complete one day. For now "it's" a mess. I'm the mess. Each year and day that passes my most precious of things can only grown more dear and the control I don't have can plague me...
So, back from my trail here, so why this week do I have batches of sweets and goods that I just spent time putting away? My grief has resurfaced. I don't say that with a "oh great" heart but a relief. I need it back. I am crying for my daughter. I have a life time of heart work that I expectantly wait for God to master. I need to bring the broken pieces to the throne each day and say here. Sort it make it.. remake it Lord. It's a relief to feel the brokenness. I miss her. It's never been far, never not felt that tug but the raw tug is back and I can still see the wounds. The wounds come as the memories of her. The misses continue to be counted. I think oh, not this, nor this....
It's April, 2 years is quickly approaching... Still that same momma on the ultrasound table hearing the news for the first time, desperately waiting for time to stop. Then there's the work I never asked God to do in my heart. I want to give it all up to have her sitting here next to me. But of course He knew I couldn't do that. He wanted and still wants to meet me in the pain. To hold me in the years to come and meet me beyond my wildest imagination. I am thankful for the holding, embracing, and that He knows I am still not alright with this. It's 4 not 3 Lord... I have 4 precious children. He knows I am complicated, and forever hurt. I am not over this. He doesn't expect that. He just wants to meet me in this. The gospel meets me. If not for the pains in the world, would we come to the throne naked, crying so hard we can't see. A mess? no, probably not. The brokenness in this world has only become greater since my addison. Call it awareness or maybe just more of the same pain that has been here since the garden. The brokenness has grown into a world-full.
Jesus come, breathe life and restoration into my broken heart.

Psalm 147:3 "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds."

vs. 5 "Great is our Lord, and abundant in power."


  1. I still remember like yesterday that awful phone call 2 years ago...and then today, how amazing to see the Lord's severe, yet determined shaping of your heart. All of the misses; 4 not 3; broken without trying to fix it. I feel like you have a well worn seat at the cross's a gift because of Addie. Grieving with you knowing how much of your heart is already in heaven. Love you.

  2. Your trust in our sweet Jesus is so clear, and it is one of the brightest pictures of HOPE i have ever seen. Your posts brings up so much in my own heart, and I am so thankful for you. Aching for heaven and ALL things remade...Erin