What Would I Change?

As the 1 year mark of Sarah’s entry to heaven is here, I’ve found myself reflecting a lot about our journey. I think it’s normal to question our decisions that we made, as they pertain to someone that we’ve lost. Honestly, when you’re grieving, thoughts of your loved one are never far, but I’ve been specifically taking a more detailed walk down memory lane. Sometimes that’s good and sometimes that’s not so good. All the hard memories are still so fresh and raw in my mind. I know that we’re through the worst of it and the important thing is that Sarah is healed and whole now. She is ok. However, I still found myself contemplating what should we have done differently, if we could go back in time?

Obviously, the first thing that I often wonder is if I should have taken her to the doctor earlier for her pain. There was nothing visible or any physical limitations that she was experiencing. She would take some Tylenol because her shoulder ached and then wouldn’t complain again for another couple of weeks. It was just so intermittent and never seemed that intense, until it was. That’s when we decided to go to Riley. Maybe it’s just me justifying my decision as a mom, but if we would have gone sooner, would it have changed anything? Maybe, I guess we’ll never know. What it would have changed, if we had gone earlier, is that she would have been pulled from school and the life that she knew. Some of her most favorite high school memories happened in the weeks before her diagnosis. She was a freshman in high school and finally gaining some independence from mom and dad. She attended the RYLA conference, an FFA retreat, FFA convention, which honestly I know gave her courage for what was about to happen. So, it’s very hard for me to imagine how different things might have been had she never had those experiences. She made some really special friends during those events and matured as a person.

Should we have sought treatment somewhere else? Sometimes families that are fighting pediatric cancer end of traveling very far to receive treatment. Sometimes they end up in New York, Texas, or at St Jude’s in Tennessee, or even other hospital’s across the nation. There were times when we questioned treatment options, but we also knew that Sarah’s Doctors were consulting with other doctors about her case in some of those very places. If we would have started treatment at another hospital, I feel like the strain on our family would have been even greater, especially during COVID. I know that the relationships that Sarah made at Riley were precious to her. She felt loved and cared for by her doctor and nurses. The protocol would have been the same at any other hospital- as they all follow a plan that is devised for all of the pediatric oncology units that are networked together. Again, we could always wonder if another drug or chemo combo would have worked against her tumor, but that same chemo could have made her life a living hell. What we tried, was tolerable, until it just wasn’t effective. I completely understand why sometimes cancer patients refuse treatment and just decide to live out their days. I feel like Sarah was still able to be herself and enjoy some quality of life, despite being so sick.

Should we have brought her home for her final days? I don’t think about this one very long. I absolutely feel like we did the right thing staying at Riley through the end of her life. Although the moment that Sarah went to heaven was very sacred, I am thankful that I don’t associate that memory with our home. That was just our preference for our family and for Sarah. Our immediate family was allowed to stay in her room 24/7 so that we could all be together. Sarah appreciated that. She just wanted the 4 of us to be together and we were. We knew that her pain medications and oxygen needs were going to change drastically. So remaining there meant that we had quicker access to the help that she needed. Even the greatest hospice provider can sometimes struggle to support families in rural areas and honestly, pediatric hospice care is quite unique. Her healthcare team went above and beyond to honor and care for her during her final days. They actually still do. Several of them attended her Celebration of Life and I still receive messages from some of them. I have so much respect for the whole Hem-Onc unit. After all, they fight the cancer beast for kids every day. It’s such a hard job, but thank God that they feel a calling to do what they do. I’ve honestly heard several of them say that they absolutely look forward to the day that their unit is no longer needed. However, until that day, they are there for “their” kids and the people who love them.

Maybe, the one regret that I have is not getting Sarah’s Make-A-Wish going sooner. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask for and COVID really slowed down the whole process. Also, we would have risked a delay in her treatment had we attempted to travel or even spend a day out of the hospital. Ultimately, she decided what she really wanted was to sing and hang out for a bit with the Elevation Worship team from South Carolina. We were in the process of trying to set-it all up, but we simply ran out of time. However, a few days before she passed, she actually received a couple of very special video messages from 2 of her favorite Elevation Worship Team members. She was so excited to know that they were praying for her and were inspired by her faith. It meant so much to her! God totally arranged for it all too because the Make-A-Wish had nothing to do with how she got the messages. He’s good like that. Actually, as I think about this wish of hers for the ultimate worship concert, I’m reminded that she is living out this wish for all eternity now. That makes me smile.

So, would I have changed anything? My answer is probably-no. It all played out like it was supposed to. I know that Sarah’s quality of life changed a lot with her cancer diagnosis, but she was still able to be herself and find joy in her relationships, new and old. I’m sure the “What if’s” will not completely go away and that’s ok. I just can’t let them dominate my thoughts. So, I’ll choose to replace the “What ifs” with the “What nows?” and just keep moving forward trying to do the next right thing to honor her and her memory, until we’re reunited some day.

Me, Without You

Some days I just can’t-

look at your pictures,

listen to your voice,

hold your things,

hear your songs…

Not because I don’t miss you,

but because I miss you so much.

Some days I can-

look in your eyes,

listen to your laugh,

smell your scent,

and sing along-

Because I miss you and

it seems like you’ve been gone so long.

Some days I just can’t

breathe

or even make myself move

the weight of missing you

sits on my chest like a giant rock

and won’t let me up until I sob.

It’s suddenly like we just lost you

and I can’t believe you’re gone.

Some days I can-

go with a friend for a while,

leave my house and shop in a store,

go outside and watch the clouds,

But, even when I do-

I’m always missing you.

Though your death isn’t new

It will never be normal.

The complexities of grief

have made me different.

Which version of me, without you,

will I be today?

Things I’m Learning…

I’ve been feeling quiet in my spirit. I know it’s because I’m processing so many things all at once: it’s almost been one year since Sarah’s death, trying to parent and support a 14 year old who is also dealing with grief and so much change. Changes in our church family, good friends moving away, and trying to discern what God is calling me to do next as a job, etc… In many ways I feel like I’m waiting. While I wait, I am enjoying the freedom to grieve as I need to. I’m not going to lie, the gut punches have been hitting me hard over the past couple weeks as I’ve been missing Sarah and reminded of where we were one year ago and our journey to the end of her life here with us. It’s been especially hard walking into her room, seeing her things, and thinking about the beginning of school and how she should be enjoying being a junior in high school. As grief continues to demand it’s own attention in my life, here are a few things that I’m learning a long the way:

  1. Not everyone will be comfortable around you like they used to be. Sometimes it can make conversations feel awkward as people are unsure how to approach you. Depending upon my particular mood for the day, some days it’s easier to approach others first and just act normal, but somedays I know that I shouldn’t. It’s hard knowing that when people see me, it makes them feel sad. It’s not anything that can be helped.
  2. You can laugh with anyone, but it’s only your best friends that you can cry with. We know that someone has reached a special place in our hearts when we’re comfortable letting out our deepest emotions. I’m thankful for friends that I can be real with, when I need to be.
  3. I look for “signs” from Sarah everywhere. There has been some really special ways that she has been with us lately…like the amazing “angel” figure in my vacation picture. I hope I never stop receiving them. I still haven’t had a real vivid dream with her. I still ask too, but God knows best about how to minister to my heart. So, I’m going to trust Him with it.
  4. When you’re grieving, it’s very easy to let feelings of jealousy and bitterness rule in your heart. I have to be honest, it’s hard not to compare what could have been, when I see FB posts about other kids hitting milestones. Sometimes, very negative thoughts cross my mind as I read comments from mom’s who are missing their children who have just moved away or when someone complains about something very trivial. That is totally normal for me, but it’s also not ok for me to NOT submit those thoughts to Jesus and let His Holy Spirit set me straight. It would be hurtful for me to not acknowledge those feelings, but it’s more hurtful to let those kinds of thoughts rule in my heart. I need to have grace for others. The reality of it is, that I wouldn’t wish this kind of grief on my worst enemy. So, it’s ok if others live in a space where they don’t have to consider the things that I do. I’m learning what posts to just scroll over and sometimes, I just need to stay off of Facebook for a bit.
  5. Sleep is such a precious thing. Lately, I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night again. It’s so frustrating! I know that when it happens, the more I try to force myself to go back to sleep, the harder it becomes. So, I just try and find something good to meditate on; or I just bare my soul to Jesus, if I’m struggling with anxious thoughts or trauma.
  6. Worship still is the thing that connects me to Sarah more than anything and most importantly, Jesus. I know that when I worship, it’s like a little taste of heaven. As much as I miss Sarah, Jesus is the only thing that can fill the emptiness in my heart. He understands my grief, but he truly is the only one worthy of our worship. Worship while were suffering is life giving. It is the way to truly activate His strength in our weakness…which leads to my next point.
  7. I’m learning a lot about the biblical theology of suffering. Yeah, I know…that doesn’t sound very exciting. However, we know for those who do not believe, many times it’s because they can not accept that a loving God would allow for pain and suffering of those He loves. I’ve discovered an author, Rebecca McLaughlin, Confronting Christianity & 10 Questions Every Teen Should Ask (and Answer) About Christianity, who has some very helpful insights about this. First of all, if you’re looking for logical answers about theology, I highly recommend her books. The one directed towards teens is superb and actually quite helpful, even as an adult. She takes on almost every culturally relevant issue and has a fantastic way of explaining correct theology, with grace and love. Anyway, back to suffering. She uses the story of Lazarus to make some very keen points in regards to suffering in both books actually. My quotes will come from Confronting Christianity:
  • “Sometimes we call for Jesus and he does not come.”
  • However, “If Jesus had only come when he was called, no one would be crying.” and we wouldn’t have the verse: “Jesus wept.” John 11:35
  • “Jesus does not just feel sorry for us in our weakness and pain. He takes on that agony himself. ”

“He was was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain…Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering…”

Isaiah 53:3-4
  • In the story of Lazarus, “Jesus knows the resurrection is coming. And yet he cries out in his distress.” He bears the heartbreak of our suffering. “Pain is a place of special intimacy with him.” When we go to Him in our sorrow, we find understanding, comfort, and hope.
  • When Jesus does arrive, he doesn’t automatically fix Martha’s problem. Jesus looks into this grieving woman’s eyes and says: “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11: 25-26) He wasn’t just talking about Lazarus to Martha. He was talking about Martha herself. It’s as if he was saying to her, as she was longing to have her brother back, “your greatest need is not to have your brother back again. It’s to have me…He himself is life: Life in the face of suffering, life in the face of death.”
  • Our suffering is never an indication that God does not love us or that we’re being punished. Time and time again, in the pages of The Bible, we see those who are “chosen and beloved suffering. When Jesus comes, we see that script played out on a cosmic stage: God’s beloved Son, the One who the Father is well pleased, comes expressly to suffer and to die out of love for his people. Indeed, our beliefs about God and suffering expose the fault lines between our natural assumptions and the biblical narrative.”

I have no affiliation with Amazon for sharing, but if you’re interested in reading Rebecca McLaughlin’s books, they are available on Amazon here. I highly recommend them!

Regarding Courage

I know what courage is…

I’ve sat in a room and watched my 14 year old hear that she has cancer.

I know what courage is…

I’ve watched children sit still as they’ve been poked, examined, and had to endure hard procedures.

I know what courage is…

I’ve seen parents show up at appointments knowing they were about to be given bad news.

I know what courage is…

I’ve heard Doctors make phone calls to tell people that treatment wasn’t working.

I know what courage is…

I’ve seen nurses who carry the weight of knowing that death is coming, enter a patient’s room with so much compassion and love, and then have to leave to go take care of another patient, while acting like nothing’s wrong.

I know what courage is…

I’ve seen loved ones and friends show up to say their good-byes knowing that they’d probably never see our girl again

I know what courage is…

I’ve heard my own child tell me, she wasn’t worried about what would happen to her after she died, but she was more worried about me and the great sadness that I would feel.

I know what courage is…

I’ve stood beside her casket as it was about to be lowered in the ground and had to get in my car and leave.

I know what courage is…

I’ve walked into her bedroom and smelled her smell, seen her things, read her journal, and somehow managed to walk back out knowing she’d never be in that space with me again.

I know what courage is…

And what I’ve concluded is that dying takes a lot of courage, but living takes more. 

It would be easier to curl up and die with her, but I won’t. 

Courage can’t be ordered, shared, or given.

It’s dangled out in front of us like a choice

And it has to be chosen-in the moment.

Its counter-part is fear.

It screams louder and looks more appealing,

But its fake appeasement only brings with it more foes.

So, every day, I’ll choose courage. 

Courage to feel, deal, and be real- with my grief.

I know what courage is, but sometimes, I wish I didn’t have too.

Kim Taylor

7/9/2021

Reflections On Our Trip

Life goes on, but my heart still hurts. We knew that after the hard past couple of years, that we needed to move forward and take a family trip. Usually family vacations are so fun to plan and there’s so much to look forward too, but when you’re grieving, even vacation planning looses it’s excitement. It becomes one of those things that you know is good for you, but you’re just not feeling it. So you commit to doing it, just because you ought too. It’s like so many things, when you’re grieving-bittersweet. It’s just not the way that we imagined our life would be. Visions of future “bucket-list” vacations always included Sarah. However, we knew it was time to take this step towards reality and go.

So, we planned at family vacation out west. I planned the drive, the hotels, the VRBO’s, the National Parks, the extra stops. We decided to invite one of Libby’s closest friends, Sam, to come along. Thankfully, her parents were willing to entrust us with her for 2 whole weeks. I’m so glad that they did. Big life events, holidays, and vacations just magnify “the missing” for all of us, especially siblings. Libby has suddenly been forced to take on the role of “only child” of two grieving parents. That’s a hard job. We’re doing our best not to smother her and respect her 14 year old introverted self, but it’s hard not to be a helicopter parent. It’s our job to fix what’s broken for her, but this time, we can’t.

I can honestly say it was a good trip. We saw things that were just so beautiful-places that we have been wanting to see for years. We took lots of pictures, saw lots of animals, laughed, ate too much, and had fun. We also felt a deep ache in our hearts that I will compare to being “home sick.” Although, we knew when we arrived home, it wasn’t going to be alleviated. It’s a longing for how home used to be.

It’s no surprise that I pray a lot for God to give me signs from Sarah. I also say things to Sarah out loud sometimes, just in case she can hear me. When you’re missing someone that’s in heaven, you know that they’re ok, but you still want signs that they are still with you somehow.

One day, while sightseeing in Glacier National Park, we were driving along and came by this beautiful crystal blue lake that was so still that it had a mirrored reflection of the snow capped mountains in it. As he often did, Chad quickly pulled over to park and get out and just take it all in. I jumped out of the truck and started taking pictures. He noticed another couple also had stopped and as he does so naturally, he struck up a conversation with the man. He told Chad that he and his wife were retired ranchers from North Dakota and they now lived closer to this area. He said they come to Glacier a lot, and they took this particular drive about every 2 weeks. He said he had never seen it so still. He even told Chad that usually the waves in the lake were white capping because of the wind. So they also were amazed at the beautiful reflections in the mirrored water. I snapped several pictures with the phone camera, trying to frame the shots exactly like I wanted. It wasn’t until I reviewed the pictures that I saw it. This beautiful glow of light that seemed to build in a few of the images, until this magnificent bright image showed up on the picture. Again, none of this was viewable as I took the pictures. I knew right away that it was a sign. I zoomed in to look at the light…It was more breathtaking to me then the gorgeous mountains. All I could do was say thanks! Thank you, Jesus and Sarah, for letting us know that she was with us on our trip. Not the way that we exactly long for, but in a way that is better for her. I know she’s healed, free, and in perfect peace and paradise.

I’ll keep asking for signs this side of heaven. She’s a part of me and I can’t help it. What exactly did I see? I’ll let you interpret that for yourself. You may not see what I see, but that’s ok. What signs have you experienced from your loved one that has passed?

I’m a “Tree Hugger”

If you’ve studied The Bible for any length of time, then you know there are a few passages in scripture that that sort of package up the gospel in a “nutshell” kind of way. Passages like John 3:16, Acts 2:38, Romans 5: 6-9 are just a few. They’re beautiful short explanations of what Jesus accomplished for us when He came and gave himself up for us on the cross. In the Old Testament there’s a beautiful passage in Isaiah 61 that summarizes exactly what Jesus came to do for us too. It’s not short and sweet like the others, but I love how it contains so many promises to specific groups of people. It’s prophetic because it was written way before He was born in the manger, but also because not everything that it predicts has happened…yet. Some of it has, but there’s so much more to look forward to in these verses. Are you poor? Are you brokenhearted? Have you ever felt like a captive or a prisoner of something? Have you ever been treated unfairly or experienced an injustice? Are you grieving?…Then this passage is for you.

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

    because the Lord has anointed me

    to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

    to proclaim freedom for the captives

    and release from darkness for the prisoners,[a]

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

    and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

    and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

    instead of ashes,

the oil of joy

    instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

    instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

    a planting of the Lord

    for the display of his splendor.

They will rebuild the ancient ruins

    and restore the places long devastated;

they will renew the ruined cities

    that have been devastated for generations.

Isaiah 61: 1-4

I specifically love the promises to the person who mourns and is grieving. There is so much hope for those of us who have suffered from sin’s biggest weapon-death. Since death was never part of God’s plan, grief wasn’t either. Yet, God promises to redeem our grief. He offers comfort while we wait, promises beauty for our ashes, the “oil of joy”-instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of despair. Don’t you love that imagery? When we’re grieving, it literally feels like we’re covered in a blanket of despair. Life feels heavy as we sit in the ashes of our loss. Jesus is the only one that can take what we have left of our life after a devastating loss and make something beautiful- if we let Him. He promises to replace our mourning with the “oil of joy”–the kind of oil that is so fragrant that it oozes out from us. So much so that when we’re around others, they notice and can’t help but get a little on them too. One day, He will forever lift the blanket of despair and cover us with His garment of praise. It’s the exact opposite of the “sackcloth” that is mentioned often in scriptures, that was worn by those who were mourning or outwardly expressing their grief. His garment of praise is a thing of beauty. It signifies celebration, freedom, and life and I can’t help but think that when we’re wearing it, we won’t be able to stop ourselves from dancing! While we live on this earth, our grief is always going to be on us, but someday…It will be thrown into the depths of hell, along with the enemy, death, cancer, suicide, depression, and all the other things that came with sin.

The following verses in this passage refer to us–the ones who are rescued and redeemed by Christ–as “oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.” As I process that, some words that come to mind with that imagery are: beauty, strength, endurance, fortitude, deep roots, weathering the seasons, a shelter for others. One of my most favorite vacation places has become St Simons Island, GA. One of the reasons why is because of the ginormous Oak trees that inhabit the island. I literally turn into a tree hugger, when I’m there! Many of them are hundreds of years old. They have so much character and history. They have weathered many a hurricane, but still have a beautiful majestic grace about them. How encouraging that we can grow into something so wonderful. Growth is not always easy and it takes time, but wow! When we let our roots grow deep we can survive and thrive. I’m so thankful that those trees on the island didn’t just give up and die and neither must we.

Oaks on St Simons Island

If you are familiar with this passage, than you may know that part of this scripture appears again in the New Testament in Luke 4. It’s extremely significant because Jesus, used this passage to proclaim that He was the Messiah. He stood before his own hometown and proclaimed that He was the one that that would fulfill all of the promises in this very treasured messianic prophecy that every person in that temple would have known, like we know our ABC’s. As you can imagine, it wasn’t easily accepted. Luke tells us that all the people were furious and that they even drove him out of his own hometown and tried to drive him off a cliff! Their failure to recognize who they were with, and the power of His words– meant that they missed out on the greatest gift that was every given to them.

Friends, it’s my prayer that you don’t miss out too. These promises are for you and Jesus is who He says He is! He’s the only one that can permanently fix our broken hearts. Will you recognize Him today and the ways that He wants to minister to you? Will you accept His “garment of praise,” instead of staying under the weight of the spirit of despair? Find comfort from the one who hates death and grief more than we do.

I’ve only barely scratched the surface of what this passage means. I encourage you to research it for yourself. There is so much hope in between the lines of Isaiah 61. I know that’s why Jesus used it to kick off his ministry. Is there something on the pages of this passage that speaks to your heart? Share with us!

“Artsy”

PENTAX Image

I’ve never considered myself to be an “artsy” type. However, the older I’ve gotten, the more I value creating and practicing the arts. When I was growing up, my love for sports always came before piano practice. My artwork was always considered average by the art teacher, and I never won a coloring contest, or had my picture chosen to represent anything extraordinary. That’s ok. Although I didn’t always prioritize it, I think early on, I realized that doing something artsy, was more of a blessing for myself than for others. It feeds my heart and soul on a whole different level. As I was growing up, I watched my Mom learn to paint and saw how it relaxed her. The art that I was most impacted by was music. I was surrounded by it. I participated in musicals and the choir at church. Eventually, I was in the school band. Singing was just something that our family did.

My mom sang with a gospel group called “The Sunshine Singers.” It was kind of gospel group where everyone wore matching dresses and sometimes they even made a smaller version for me. They would travel around and sing at local churches and events and that’s where I learned to hear and sing harmony. I would sit on my “Pop’s” knee and he would sing tenor parts along with them as he played the bass guitar. I would do my best to sing along never worrying that I might not be good enough, or that I would be judged in my abilities. That must have been difficult for him to juggle- me sitting on his knee and singing, while he played. I never remember him using any chord charts or looking at any paper music. He would just play what he heard, as his wife, Sarah, otherwise known as “Mom” in the dynamic grandparent duo of “Mom and Pop,” pounded out the piano parts with energy and a smile on her face that exuberated the joy that was in her heart. Sometimes, I would hop on the piano, when it wasn’t being used and tried to imitate her style, but I could never get it quite right. All I ever heard or saw was encouragement and smiles. They just enjoyed my joyful “noise.” They weren’t my blood grandparents, but it didn’t matter, they were family to us. We were with them around every holiday, went to church together, had many a sleepover at their house and they spoiled me, as if I were their own. Needless to say, “Mom” Sarah, was one of our Sarah’s namesakes. We’ve have some pretty special other Sarah’s in our lives too, which helped sway us towards choosing our Sarah’s name. Now they’re together in heaven. I smile when I think about the hugs that were given.

The need to sing and make music was a part of my other family too. We had many a family sing along at get togethers or while camping. I’ve watched as my cousins have grown up making music and most of them serve in some capacity in their local church within the music ministry. Now their children are starting to do the same. I’m so thankful that we’re instilling in them the gift of music. I remember the first time Chad came to a holiday gathering and my cousins broke out guitars and we all started to circle up to sing some songs together. The look of fear in his eyes, I’ll never forget! I think he even questioned out loud, “What’s getting ready to happen?” We reassured him that we weren’t going to ask him to sing a solo or anything! Now, he rather appreciates those times, I think.

I think we all know that music, visual art, even the written word, can tap into feelings, and emotions that we sometimes find difficult to process. Research has shown that having a creative outlet can destress and clear your mind. Education Weekly published an article in 2013 which cited several research studies and the benefits of the arts for cognitive development. In essence what they are saying is that “art makes you smart!” Even used as therapy after a stroke or a physical debilitation, it is helpful for the brain to function better and benefits the patients recovery.

So, supporting the arts, and practicing creativity in some way has been so important to me as I am healing and learning to function with grief. It’s so therapeutic for me when I sit down and make music. Sometimes, I’ll pick up my guitar, but lately I’ve been drawn to the piano. I’m sure it’s because piano was Sarah’s instrument. When she would play, Chad and I would just soak it in. She was just a natural. I’ll confess that I have spent hours at the piano lately. My audience of “One” doesn’t care if I make a mistake or don’t quite get it right. It’s become my “sanctuary” of sorts. He just delights in the offering-even when it comes from a place of hurting. It’s a sacrifice of praise. He is a creative God. He loves to watch us create and make beauty from the dust. It’s what He did when He made mankind. Maybe the arts connect with us because of that. I really think that someday in heaven, that’s what we’ll be doing…creating things through the arts and it will glorify God, just as it does here now, but even more so when the curse of sin has finally been removed.

I believe, there is something creative that each of us was made to do. So, actually, we’re all “artsy” in some way. There are vast ways that we can express ourselves artistically now days. Sometimes it takes us longer to discover whatever that “thing” is-compared to others. Sometimes, it’s recognizable right away when a person is made to do something. Most of the time it takes practice and repetition. What do you create in order to connect with your inner artistic self? I’d love for you to share? How has it helped you through a difficult time?

Along this same line…The GLOW Fund(Sarah’s memorial) accepts donations of used, but playable instruments to be given to a young person who wants to learn to play. Your unused instrument could become a blessing to a young person who is discovering how The Creator has gifted them. If you have an instrument to donate, message me!

Dear Sarah

Dear Sarah,

I wish you were here. There’s so much that has been happening. From my limited earthly view, sometimes it feels like you’re missing out, but other times I feel that you’re closer than I realize. Your story is definitely not over. Your impact is still making a difference. I often wonder if you’re helping Jesus weave such a beautiful tapestry of events. As we navigate through the grief and pain of being separated from you, we’re finding ways to honor you and still shine your light. Our community has been so kind to help find ways to make sure that you will never be forgotten.

Your FFA Club has been so thoughful and blessed us so much. They have been so creative in finding ways to remember you and grieve with us, but also serve and live with a positive joyful vibe- from the lantern that shines for you in the new Ag Department, to the new swing in the courtyard with your quote inscribed, “Be outrageously outgoing just for the fun of it!” Such a good motto and sums up your personality so well. They were sweet to include you in the opening ceremonies at this year’s banquet-glowsticks and all. You’d be so proud of all that they accomplished this year! Even the State FFA President, Julia Hamblen, shared a bit of your story all around the state, because she was so inspired by your infectious smile and positivity. You’d be so proud of Libby and her excitement for all things FFA. She’s learning, growing, and serving so proudly. She even got to step in as reporter for opening ceremonies during the awards night and she nailed it! We’ll forever be grateful to the Blue and Gold for how they celebrate you! They even made us Honorary Members! Mamaw, Papaw, Aunt Terri & Uncle Kevin even found a special way to honor you and give back at the banquet. This year’s inaugural FFA “Sarah R Taylor Scholarship” award went to Marnie Schwartzkopf. I know you’re proud of that.

The Hauser Music Department was also important to you. Your 7th grade year was special because you were able to participate in band and choir. You would have done both every year, if your schedule would have allowed. It was always so hard for you to just blend in with the other members, because you couldn’t keep from smiling-or standing still! I giggle a little whenever I recall having to talk to you about it. Lol! It was like I had to tell you to quit having so much fun! Music was and probably still is a big part of who you are. Mr. Klinger found such a special way to remember and honor you. He started a new award called “The Sarah Taylor Award for Positive Mental Attitude.” There’s a beautiful new plaque that will hang in the music department hallway. His heartfelt words paid tribute to you and brought comfort as he reminisced about you and promised that although you would always be missed, you would never be forgotten. This year’s inaugural winner was awarded at the spring concert to Miss Rachel Jones.

We were also touched by the school’s plans to name the new photography club that will be starting next year after you! Mrs. Tom and Ms. Foug have been awarded a Lily Creativity Endowment and their going to start a photography club and name it after you. Isn’t that so amazing?! We can’t wait to see how it grows and the art that comes from it.

We’re pouring ourselves into continuing the ministry that you started through the “GLOW like Sarah Fund.” We’re picking projects and things that you were passionate about and so excited to share with others. Our first Fire & Music night was amazing! We announced our first Bible Journaling Workshop and so far 22 girls have signed up! I’ve been walking on “Cloud 9” ever since and in some ways it makes me feel like you are right beside me. I’ve noticed little signs over the past few days that tell me that were taking all the right steps. Things are falling into place and I pray that we’ll keep planting and tending to the seeds that you started. I wonder what this garden looks like from your viewpoint?

BTW, I’m not sure if it was you or Jesus who sent the Firefly when it finally got dark at the Fire & Music night?! The way it hovered around us was just supernatural. Then it landed on the tree and just sat-blinking it’s light. A few of us who noticed were amazed! It was definitely a goosebumps moment as we realized the significance of it. It was the perfect ending to our first Fire & Music night. Fireflies aren’t usually flying around in May in Indiana-usually the soybeans are pretty tall in the fields when we start to see them. We’ll keep growing the glow and you just keep finding ways to “show off,” ok?

Love,

Mom

“Sappy” Mother’s Day

Maybe it was the cool and dreary weather compounded by grief, but Mother’s Day was very difficult.  I saw many sentiments from other grieving mom’s that felt the same.  Overall, our weekend started out good.  We went camping, which is a Mother’s Day tradition with some of our family members.  We also attended a lovely FFA banquet, where Libby received some awards and recognition for her hard work and involvement in FFA this year.  Sarah was honored there and Chad and I were even included as Honorary Members of our local FFA Chapter.  It was so sweet of them to do that!  Had I known that was going to happen, I may have actually showered away the campfire smell before we attended! Lol!

We had lots of family time and enjoyed using our camper, singing around the campfire a bit, ate all of my favorite desserts, but something was just missing…and that something was Sarah.  No matter how hard I “tried” to make it a good day, it just wasn’t.  My heart was aching for her.  Chad and Libby, bless their hearts, they were quite melancholy with me.  Maybe it was because I set the tone, or maybe they were just missing being “us” too.  Getting used to the new normal is hard.  We still have moments of joy, but it’s just so different and our hearts always pause to reflect on how much more joyous it would be to hear Sarah laughing right along with us. 

Not enjoying Mother’s Day isn’t a new thing for me.  I actually have had a hard time with it for years.  I learned during infertility, that it was a good weekend to just get out of town and not be involved at church.  There’s been a few years, when I made an exception, but the heart ache for my babies in heaven is always felt more deeply on this day.  A Mother’s heart is never more full than when she’s surrounded by all of her children.  I’ve never had that.

As your children are growing and learning to communicate, there’s a deep intimacy that you feel when you look at them and lock eyes and say things that you mean.  Sometimes, it’s a stern warning for correction-that may send a chill down their spine.  Sometimes, it’s a meaningful statement of love and value that you hope instills in them a security about who they are and how much they mean to you.  Either way, that connection that you make during that moment is priceless.  It’s like you’re looking into their soul.  If your child is still with you here on Earth, don’t ever take that for granted.  I long to look into Sarah’s eyes and tell her so many things:  how much I love her, how proud I am of her, how much I miss spending time with her, laughing with her, and singing with her.  Honestly, I’m still haunted by the way that her eyes looked past me and on into heaven when she died.  I know that’s the trauma.  It’s happening less, but on Mother’s Day, my brain brought it to the surface again.  Grief is like that.  It’s like a loop that you’re stuck in. 

The tears came and that’s ok.  I needed to let them out.  I’m healing, but I’m not healed.  Mother’s Day was a reminder that I won’t get what my heart truly longs for until we’re ALL together in heaven.  So for now, I’ll wait with tears, knowing that Jesus is collecting every single one of them.

 You keep track of all my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  You have recorded each one in your book. 

Psalm 56:8

He doesn’t just expect me to dry them up and move on.  He stops with me and allows me to grieve.  While He’s holding me, He’s also got His eyes on our girl.  Knowing she’s looking into His eyes right back, brings me peace.  He knows when I’ll be able to look into her eyes again some day and when I’ll also lay eyes on my 3 other babies that I’ve never gotten to hold. Maybe they know the answer to that question too and like me, they’re counting down the days.  Until then, Mother’s Day is over and I’m one day closer to Heaven.

Hymns and Heritage

Last week my family got to do something really special. My cousin Val leads music from time to time at St Louis Crossing Church and when she was asked to lead on May 2nd, which happens to be our Grandma Anderson’s birthday, she had the idea to invite some of the family to join her and lead with some of our Mamaw’s favorite hymns. Our Mamaw has been in heaven for a while, and I have no doubt that Sarah was a part of her celebration this time. Here on earth it was a perfect reason for us to gather. It’s been to long! Surprisingly, once the younger kiddos heard about what the grown-ups were doing, they wanted to be included in the sing along at the service. How sweet is that? They even came up with a “band name” for the group-The Anderson Roots! Isn’t that precious? Unfortunately, I was unable to participate this time, because I was singing at our own church, but I am so thankful for a family that still honors our heritage and for the respect and excitement that the younger ones had to ask to be included in something that they could have easily chosen to set out of.

Afterwards, we still gathered together to celebrate the day. I had the opportunity to visit with Olivia, one of my little cousins. Olivia is amazing. Out of the next generation of cousins, she’s the one that reminds me the most of Sarah. She’s not at all shy, she has a smile that will light up a room, loves to talk and visit with us old people, and is just full of joy. She endured a pretty significant health scare when she was younger. I remember even at that time, realizing she was so brave and she already had such an incredible faith in Jesus. So, we were chatting about the hymn sing and I asked her which song was her favorite. She said quickly, “Oh, the Do Lord/I’ll Fly Away” one! I really love that one!” It made me smile. I told her that I remember singing those songs too when I was her age and how fun they were. Because of those songs, I learned some very valuable promises of God and experienced watching the joy on my parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles faces as we sang about heaven someday. In those moments I could tell they were looking forward to a sweet reunion with loved ones that they were missing and that I had yet to meet. It was those same songs that were sang, as a family, as we surrounded my Grandparent’s- before each of them passed. They are songs of hope and comfort for sure.

When I began looking for items to stock in my online store, I found an amazing company called “Revelation Culture” that offers handmade quality signs. I was quickly drawn to them because of the scripture that they used, the message of hope that they give, and just how well they are made. When I saw the subway styled Hymn signs, I knew that I had to offer them. Along with several of their “Shelf sitter” signs and various smaller signs, the shop is stocked with “I’ll Fly Away” and “Victory In Jesus” Hymn signs. These signs are big at 3 1/2 feet tall by 1 ft 10 Inches wide. So they make a statement! For me, it’s more than just a statement, it’s a promise. When I look at them, I’m reminded of my past and my future!

Recently, my friend Mel was drawn to the “Victory In Jesus” sign. As soon as she saw it, she was reminded of her Grandma, who passed away in 2019. Now the sign hangs in her breakfast nook/kitchen area. For her it’s a way of remembering, but also teaching her children about their Great Grandma’s legacy-all while instilling in them the promises of God and growing their “roots” deep in a heritage of hope.

“When we all get to heaven

What a day of rejoicing that will Be

When We All See Jesus

We’ll sing and Shout

The Victory”

What about you? Do you have a favorite Hymn that reminds you of your family and brings you hope?