My spring

I've got a little smudge of ashes on my forward.

My cross.  My reminder.  

I am dust and to dust I shall return.  

This is Lent.  A return to God.  

A preparation, through repentance, 

for the joy of Easter.  

The alleluia is gone. 

 For 40 days we dig deep.  

We are quiet, we are simple, we are dust.  

We are sinners.

We are in need of forgiveness.   

We are waiting.  

Waiting for a cross and for a resurrection.  

via

This is my Lent.  I remembered today why I feel the way I do right now.  Why I am quiet and angry.  The reason I am sad without knowing.  I am in my Lent.  I feel the silence.  I am waiting for my spring.

My spring did arrive though.  He came on February 26, 2010.  He is spring.  He is life.  Life in the midst of my grandma's and Ben's death.  I know why I am sad.  But I know what God's love is.  God's love is snuggled with me in my chair.  God's love looks at me in worship and says "I love you".  

God's love, in the birth of my son, proved that God takes the messy and puts the pieces back together.  God heals the heart and brings the joy of Easter.

For right now though, I must live in the messy that is left.  Knowing that God is putting it back together, it just takes a while.  Knowing that I can be okay with the messy that is grief from death and utter happiness from God's blessings.  

So we wait.  We wait for the Alleluia.  We wait for spring.  We wait with God.

My heart is not lifted up.

My eyes are not lifted up.

But calm and quiet is my soul.  

Jason Gray "Without Running Away"

linking up here

Hooks and Haiti

Today is the one year mark of the earthquake that shook Haiti.  We waited for news of my 4 friends through out these next few days.  In the end, Ben went home to be with God and his wife and cousin returned to us.  My dear Sarah, after days of walking and traveling by boat also returned to the U.S.    In this last year of both the intense grief of death and the immense joy of birth I have come to a conclusion about the loss of Ben.  I was blessed to know Ben.  That is where my grief is.  I was blessed to know him.  

If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. Romans 14:8

So what does crocheting have to do with this?  It is my normal.  It is a spiritual connection for me.  It is not about finishing a project or making money.  It is about hooking yarn over and over until I am calm and silent, until I can listen to my heart and to God.

I don't remember what I crocheted on the way to Ben's memorial, but I know my friend, Suzi, and I both did.  I know my dear Sarah crocheted the night see finally returned home from Haiti.

I crocheted with my whole heart and prayed for a miracle for my grandma.  I sent a throw and wrapped her in my love and prayers in the only way I could from so many miles away.

In the end, crochet became my normal.  After the birth of my son and the death of my grandma I entered a depression.  One that I couldn't shake.  One that brought tears and heart break.  And then one day it happened.  I picked up the hook again.  I felt the normal return.  I don't know what I worked on but I know I did.  The hook sat beside my chair with a ball of yarn ready for me whenever I had time.  And I have found time.  I crochet not only to see the outcome but for the healing that it brings.

And so last night I decided I would crochet for someone else.  I am working on a throw and praying.  I am praying that who ever uses it will feel comfort, hope, and love.  My goal is that someone in hospice can use it and that their family knows someone out prayed for them.  My prayer is that God can use this throw to wrap someone in love.  I will wait to see who it is....

An Easter People

I have been consumed by non Christmas thoughts these last few weeks. I just can’t bring myself to be excited for Christmas. Yet, I know I will get there. It’s just different. Different because I’m part of a pastor’s family and different because this year has been filled with so many moments I want to forget or change and moments I wouldn’t change for anything.

If I had to write a Christmas card for this year, it would be filled with life and death. Joy and sorrow. I have not jumped in and blogged a lot about my grandma dying. It was without a doubt the hardest thing I have done….ever. For the safety of my son, who carries her name, I couldn’t be there. Last Christmas was the last time I ever saw her. I saw her smiling face, though in pain, holding my oldest son. Cheering on our football team, playing with him the best she could. I didn’t know what was to come. I missed a part of that letting go. I missed the part of saying good bye. She was sick and I couldn’t be there. I knew I needed to be at home because you never know when the baby will come. I willed my son, Matthew Barry, to come early. As my grandma started to get sicker I knew what I needed and what she needed. We needed her to meet this baby. In the end, that didn’t happen. She didn’t meet him and I didn’t get a good bye of any kind. I spoke with her the Friday Matthew was born and that was it. She hardly spoke after that. She died that Wednesday, 6 hours after I sent a video for her to “watch” introducing her to my baby. It is a pain and grief that I carry everyday. It is heavy and it fills my heart sometimes. I am reminded every time I saw my son’s name, who he is. He is a Barry, but he is a child of God.

As my grandma was getting sicker, something unimaginable happened. The earthquake in Haiti. The earthquake that took Ben. Ben, a light in the darkness, a light to so many. This pain is not the same as the pain and grief in losing my grandma. This pain is that something so unimaginable could happen to people I know. The pain is in what might have been.

So this Christmas is different. It is Matthew’s first and it will be joyous and wonderful. It will come to me. I will get in the Christmas spirit.

Right now, I’m working on rejoicing in the fact that we are Easter people. Thank God for Christmas so that we have what comes next. I have no doubt who my grandma and Ben are with, where they are. Thank God! I have been washed with grace everyday as I work through what this year was. Grace and love abounds this Christmas. I will get there.

The Spoon

Grandma- I was thinking about you this morning.  Martin hasn't asked about you in a long time.  I guess that's what we wanted.  We just kind of stopped mentioning you around him.  We don't want him to forget you, I just don't know how to explain life and death to an almost three year old.  Maybe he would understand, but I'm afraid he would just get excited at the mention of GG and want to see you.  Then I would have to tell him he couldn't.  That little face when he is sad is too much for me.  But don't worry, I know if I brought you up he would remember so many of the things you did together.  He hasn't forgotten you.  I know it.  I miss you a lot and I'm sad that Martin misses you and doesn't even know it.  That's all I wanted to say.  Oh, and I still don't know what to do with the spoon and I'm making tuna for lunch.  I still love you with all my heart.

The Spoon

We are on vacation and in Nebraska for the first time since my grandma died.  The last time I was here, was Christmas, and she was doing okay.  I wasn't able to be at the funeral or to see her after that since I was very pregnant.  I wish she would have met Matthew Barry, he is named after her and my grandpa.  I took a look around the house and although it wasn't the farm, it was still a place full of memories.  

Grandma, I had to go to your house yesterday.  My mom made me.  She said I needed to see what was there and if I wanted anything.  I found a few things.  Some that reminded me of you and others that I just wanted for my own house.  I took the vacuum, a suitcase and some new towels.  I will take the car later and a recliner or two.  I also found some cookbooks and a pair of earrings.  Thanks.  They were all things I needed, but then I found the spoon.  I was looking in the kitchen seeing what I might need and I found that spoon.  Remember the set of silverware with the little star at the bottom?  My sister and I used it everyday in Arizona.  We loved that set.  Probably because it reminded us of the farm and eating rice krispies with Grandpa or eating our open face tuna sandwiches with bread that got a little dark from the broiler.  You always forgot about the bread.  Anyway, I found a spoon.  I don't know why it was left in Nebraska, but it was a serving spoon with the little star on the bottom.  I took it and now I cry.  It reminds me of all of those things.  I don't have many memories of you cooking or baking (except the tuna and scalloped corn by the giant panful) but I remember that dang silverware.  I wish I could have all of it.  I wish I could eat rice krispies at your table with the brown dishes that my sister gets.  You always laughed because that silverware was from betty crocker and those brown dishes were from the grocery store, but we didn't care.  I took the spoon and I hope that's okay. I don't need another thing from that house, the spoon is enough.  I miss you so much and love you with all my heart.