New Soap Day

My husband was a complex man. Most people only saw the public side of him: the preacher, counselor, church planter. He was passionate, worked hard and took his calling seriously. But behind that man was the funniest, sweetest man I have ever met. He made life fun. He was that guy you pull up next to who is singing to the radio at the top of his lungs. He was the guy who loved cheesy kid movies like Sky High and Because of Winn Dixie. He never failed to make me laugh – every single day. He enjoyed life and he showed me how to enjoy life.

Barry was also a man of habit. He liked certain things certain ways. One thing he was very particular about was the soap he used. He only used bar soap. No liquid soap. And it had to be Irish Spring. The good thing about bar soap is that it lasts a long time. A very long time … But every so often a beautiful thing would occur. Barry called it “New Soap Day.” It was the day you got to throw away that little cracked sliver of old soap and open a new box of Irish Spring. It was a glorious day. It did not matter what was happening that day – no matter how stressful or painful. Everything was going to be okay because it was new soap day. It sounds silly, but new soap day made him happy. He delighted in it. And it made me happy, because it was fun to watch him enjoy new soap day.

A couple of months ago, I came to an interesting realization. In the last 16 months, I have learned a lot in this new life I live. In regards to learning to walk in the land of the living (Psalm 116:9), I feel like I have done well. I’ve learned to manage our household and our family. I’ve taken big steps. God has been faithful and generous. But I realized that I have forgotten something vitally important. I have forgotten how to have fun. How to be playful. How to laugh – really laugh. And in talking through this with a friend, she asked me what I found delight in. Guess what? I didn’t really have an answer.

Don’t misunderstand. I am content. I am joyful. In fact, I think I have experienced a contentment and joy that most people don’t ever experience. Walking through the darkest of circumstances can show you how bright and good life really is in Jesus. But being content and joyful are different from having fun. And while fun is fleeting, the Bible tells us that God created us for delight. He wants us to enjoy life. He wants us to experience pleasure. He is the creator and giver of those things. And while suffering and grief are a part of life, they are not the only part. They don’t overtake everything. I can still have fun. I can still be silly. I can still laugh so hard I cry. So, while I have temporarily forgotten how to have fun, I am on a quest to relearn the art.

So, here’s to finding my equivalent to “New Soap Day.” To finding delight in the little things. To enjoying the life that God has given me – not surviving it, but really enjoying it. What God has given is so good – may my attitude and actions reflect it.

An Update on William

A few weeks ago, William had another MRI to monitor the size of the mass in his leg. This was something his oncologist wanted to do in order to confirm his diagnosis. If the mass had stayed the same size or gotten smaller, it would confirm his second diagnosis of heterotopic ossification (excess bone in his leg resulting from the original fracture). If it had grown, it would confirm the original diagnosis of osteosarcoma. So, off we went to Medical City Dallas Children's Hospital for 7 hours of fun and testing.

To be honest, my heart was full of angst about this MRI. Logically, I knew there was nothing to worry about. Just by looking at William's leg, I knew the mass had gotten smaller. He had regained all of his range of motion and was walking, running and jumping like any other 4-year-old. (Thank you for all the PT, Melissa!!!) And, while sedating him for the MRI isn't exactly fun, I knew he wouldn't have any allergic reactions to the anesthesia. But logic doesn't always rule my heart. Sometimes, fear and worry does. There's a little voice that whispers, "What if ..."

I hate that voice.

Leading up to this MRI, the Lord literally put a song in my heart. It was like a having a CD stuck on repeat in my head all day and all night. It was a song that I knew and believed. And yet in my belief, I needed to be reminded of this truth continually.

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him.

How I've proved Him o'er and o'er

Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus

Oh for grace to trust Him more.

This song reminded me of the father of the boy with an unclean spirit in Mark 9. His exclamation of, "I believe; help my unbelief!" is exactly how I was feeling. I believed that God had shown us great compassion by sparing William of cancer in December. I believed that God was working all things for our good and for His glory. I believed that God loved us deeply and would carry us through what ever trials He brought our way. But doubt still sneaks in. The lie that Adam and Eve believed in the garden is still whispered to me today. Despite the beautiful work I have seen God do over the last 16 months in the Keldie family, I still need the Holy Spirit to speak truth that drowns out that lie. I need grace to trust God more.

Oh, how He gives grace. William's MRI went exceptionally well. He was brave. He was excited to go the hospital - he loves the play room. Even when he found out he had to "take a short nap" (what he calls being put to sleep), the tears were only momentary. We had the best anesthesiologist we've had yet. William woke up from the MRI well - no terror and sobbing like last time. And even more importantly, we got the best news we could have gotten. The mass in his leg has shrunk. In fact, the oncologist was surprised and extremely happy about how much it had shrunk. Any question as to William having cancer was destroyed. His leg is doing so well that, unless a complication comes up, he won't have surgery to remove the mass until he is in middle school. Originally, we were told he would have to have surgery next year. And the icing on the cake of our good news - no more MRIs. All monitoring of the mass can now be done with x-rays.

Over the last 16 months, we've faced some horrible things. And yet, every single step of the way, God has been generous and faithful. With every heartache and tragedy, He has poured out blessings. He has sent the Holy Spirit to comfort and uphold our faith - to help my unbelief. I am so thankful.

I'm so glad I've learned to trust Him

Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend

And I know that He is with me

Will be with me to the end.

Heaven

Earlier this year, one of my favorite pastors preached a sermon on heaven. It was the best sermon on the subject I've heard.

You should listen to it.

It will encourage, inspire, challenge and comfort you. But most importantly, it will raise your view of Jesus.

You can listen to it or download it here. Type in "Josh Patterson" in the search bar and select the message from Januray 2, 2011 entitled 2 Corinthians 5:1-10.

May we all long for heaven more, knowing that being in the presence of the Lord far surpasses any earthly thing. Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Layla's Birthday

Layla turned two this weekend. While I'm a big believer in celebrating birthdays, I'm not a big believer in over-the-top birthday parties, especially for two-year-olds. I understand the one-year-old birthday parties. There is much to be celebrated in conquering that first year of life - especially for mommy! And I understand birthday parties for 3, 4 and 5 year-olds. Those kids are old enough to know what is going on and enjoy/remember it. But the two-year-old party is different. The child doesn't really understand what is going on. There is usually a beautiful melt-down caused by too much sugar and over-stimulation. And they don't remember it. So, my old self would not have had a party for Layla this year. But the new me decided to throw a party.

Layla's birthday is exactly one week after Barry's death. So last year, Layla celebrated her one-year-old birthday with a mommy who was a complete and total disaster. I don't remember much of the day. What I do remember is this: my friend made Layla a cake, the presents she opened were not from me, and I cried - a lot. There wasn't a celebration of Layla, there was just grief. And it was so sad, because there is much to be celebrated in Layla. When God gave me her, He gave me a glimpse of what eternal joy will be like. Her tiny little body is full of joy and love. So this year, it was important for me to celebrate her. To celebrate all that God has blessed me with in her. To celebrate that during her first year of life, she had a daddy who adored her and in her second year of life, she had a heavenly father who protected her and blessed her in a beautiful way.

Saturday, we had a birthday party for Layla. It was small - just family and her two little friends. It was the first time I had a party at my house since Barry passed away. The kids played in a bounce house in the back yard. We had good food and laughed. There was no pressure for everything to be perfect. But, everything was perfect. Layla and I were surrounded by our favorite people, rejoicing in the precious life that is Layla Joy. It was another sweet picture of God continuing to heal and restore our family. I am thankful. (And fully aware that she won't remember a second of it... but I will!)

One Year

Today is the one year anniversary of Barry's death. All week long, my mind has been flooded with memories of the events that took place at this time last year. It has been painful. Many tears have been shed. And yet, over and over again, I have found great comfort and strength in remembering how the Lord worked in my life last year.

In the weeks leading up to Barry's death, God was preparing my heart for what was coming. A dear friend encouraged me to read A Sweet and Bitter Providence by John Piper. My time in the Scriptures was incredibly rich and challenging. Friends were very present in our lives, loving and encouraging us. And once Barry went into the hospital, my mind began to recall passages of Scripture and the promises of God in a very vivid and powerful way. It was obvious that the Holy Spirit was pouring the truth of who God was over me - giving me strength and hope in the most difficult moment of my life.

So, in remembering everything that happened last year, I have found myself grieving and rejoicing all at once. I have been grieving over the tragedy that occurred, but rejoicing over the generosity of God in carrying me through it.

At the same time this week, God has also been reminding me of His generosity to send the Holy Spirit to comfort me. While conversations and details of what occurred last year are blurry, I can remember the exact timing of significant events - when we called 911, when he was transfered to ICU, when the aneurysm occurred, etc. At those times this year, the Holy Spirit was overwhelmingly generous to encourage me. He moved in the hearts of others to call, text and email at those exact times. They had no clue that they were calling to comfort me at the exact time I was grieving significant events. During the most difficult of those moments this year, literally at the exact minute, I received a very compassionate email and my doorbell rang with a delivery of flowers. Not only is God faithful to give us what we need, He is also overwhelming generous to bless us.

Before losing Barry and walking through this last year of grief, if someone had said the same things I am saying here, I would have smiled politely and commented on the goodness of God, all the while wondering how much was the work of the Holy Spirit and how much was just coincidence. Now, it seems so obvious - God is intimately and intricately involved in the lives of His children. He knows our pain and our weakness and He acts with compassion toward us.

One thing I am confident of - until God calls me home, my life here on earth will continue to be filled with difficulty and pain. It is the result of sin and living in a fallen world. But God is generous in each moment. He not only provided me with Jesus, whose death gave me the ability to be reconciled to Him, but He gave me the Holy Spirit, who reveals, directs and comforts me along the way.

Tonight as I remember the amazing life of my sweet husband, I am thankful. Thankful for each moment with him. Thankful for how he pointed me to Jesus. Thankful for how God blessed me with Barry and how He continues to bless me with Himself.

And just because I can, a picture of us in Israel...

Feeling Loved

This week was Valentines Day. To be honest, Valentines Day was never a big deal for Barry and I. We celebrated our anniversary 4 weeks after Christmas, so when Valentines Day came just 3 weeks after that, it never seemed to be a big deal.  

This year, God continued to be very generous in providing sweet, thoughtful friends to love me and encourage me as I celebrated another "first" holiday without Barry. A friend handmade beautiful Valentines with scripture on them for the kids and I. She even decorated William's with dinosaurs - he LOVED it. Another friend got me a beautiful wall hanging asa gift. And several people emailed or texted to encourage me. Over and over again, they said the same phrase: "I just want you to feel loved today." And I did.

As I sat reflecting on the day Monday night, I realized something very sweet. Yes, I did feel loved by thoughtful friends. And they brightened my day. But, if no one had remembered me, if no one had called, if no one had said a word, I would still have felt very loved. I am confident I always will. Barry loved me deeply and passionately. He constantly found ways to show me how much he loved me - not just on holidays, but everyday. He spoke love over me. He showed me he loved me through gifts, touch, and actions. He wrote me hundreds of love poems. And he continually did the most loving thing any husband can do for his wife - he pointed me to Jesus every day.  

My heart is full. I feel deeply and perfectly loved by God, who has sustained and blessed me throughout the last year. I feel loved by compassionate friends who encourage me daily. And for the rest of my life, I will feel loved by Barry, despite his physical absence.  He loved me well. I am so thankful...

Reflections on Ice

There was a big ice storm in Texas this last week. Most of the country would have continued life as usual, but here in the lovely state of Texas, life came to a screeching halt. From Monday evening until Saturday evening, we could not (or rather would not..) leave the house. Schools were canceled, businesses were closed, life seemed to pause for a few short days. 

As a widow/ single mom, life is different than it used to be. Most days are okay. (By okay, I mean productive, with little drama, leaving me feeling content - but shy of happy.) I am thankful that most days are okay. Some days are sad. Some days are stressful. Some days are lonely. Some days are overwhelming. But most days are okay. Very rarely are my days angry. But let God throw some snow and ice on the ground, and I begin to battle anger. Sorry to be so blunt, but it is the truth.  

On the surface my anger stems from silly things. I HATE to build the snowman for my kids. They are too young to build one yet, but insist on having one, so I endure burning cold hands to build them one. With small kids, your somewhat trapped in the house when the weather is bad. I can't send my husband to the store if we need something. Either we all go, or we go without. And, it is now my job to do those fun chores of scrapping ice off the car, porch and driveway. I know it seems sexist, but I really think that's a man's job - not mine!  

But during the last week, I have realized that God has been doing a very quiet, very sweet work of healing in my heart. When I woke up to ice on Tuesday morning, I wasn't angry. (Maybe it had something to do with not having to build a snowman - I'll take that small victory!) Instead, I was thankful that we had a warm house, full of food to enjoy the day in. When the power went out, after a brief moment of panic, I made a plan for what to do if it stayed off for too long. When people started saying their pipes were frozen, I found my home repair book and figured out how to quickly turn off our water, should we need to. All of these things would have made me angry a few months ago. I would have been angry that I had to do those things on my own, angry that Barry was gone. But, I feel like now it is time to learn those things and own my new role as the head of our family. I am sad he's gone and wish he were here to protect and provide for us in those ways. But I have learned that I am capable of doing those things. And I don't do them alone...

This week, God showed me that He will provide help for me. I have amazing friends. Friends who love me and the kids. Friends who loved Barry. Friends who know how Barry felt about the Biblical role of men and women. Friends who have stepped in to help during the last year. Friends who remembered us this week. Friends who called to check and make sure we were okay. Friends who offered to go to the store for us. It wasn't anything big. It never took them more than a phone call and a few minutes of time. But for me, knowing that they remembered and cared made me not feel so alone. So instead of angry, I found myself thankful. Thankful for friends. Thankful for a week of uninterrupted time to play and enjoy my kids.

So, for my fellow Texans - I hope you enjoyed the ice. I hope you had sweet moments with your families and recognized the generous provision of God in sending ice to slow us down. For my fellow friends walking the long road of grief  - know that the road gets a little easier and you don't have to walk it alone.  

And finally, for my daddy - thanks for driving thirty minutes to come help me scrap ice off my driveway! It is not a fun or easy job. I am thankful that God blessed me with such a generous and faithful daddy. Every day of my life, you have pointed me to God through your actions. I am thankful. And hopefully, William can help us out soon...

Is a four-year-old old enough to shovel snow????