Scars

 
I look up to the mountains. Does my strength come from the mountains? No. My strength comes from God. Who made heaven and earth. And the mountains.

We all have scars. Some are visible; others are not. Some we'd rather not show anyone at all. I call my stretch marks from having our babies my "battle scars." I am not embarrassed by them, but I still find myself trying to hide them with the right bathing suit. I humbly remind myself they are a reminder to me of the gift of motherhood I was given.

Our scars should carry no shame at all.

When Luke was 2 years old, he tripped and fell outside. His forehead caught the corner of our fire pit. Ouch! He was crying the one that gets every parent's attention - you know - the one where they are crying so hard that they don't make any noise. Yikes! Thankfully, his cut got glued together pretty darn quickly with his paramedic daddy right at his side at Children's Hospital. Yet, he has a scar because of it. Matthew has one, too, from smacking his head on our coffee table. For some reason, boys feel like a scar is something to be proud of instead of being ashamed of.

Maybe it should be?

After all, I have a scar or what I like to call "dent" in my leg from when I was hit by a car when I was 13. It's not something I'm proud of per se, but it is a reminder to me that I did not die that day all because of God's grace.

But there are also scars that no one can see. They are tucked inside each one of us. They are what we hide from most people, and we only allow a select few to see. Many times we hide them from even ourselves. They are there because of loss, despair, trauma, shame, guilt, grief, regret....the list goes on and on. Doesn't it?

I recently learned that someone I love has been going through an unimaginable struggle in this thing called life. I cannot help but relate and empathize because I, too, have been through the unimaginable. We all have to some degree. Yet, this person suffers in silence. Why? The same reason we all suffer...out of shame or embarrassment; feeling judged or misunderstood.

It shouldn't be that way.

I've learned that  being vulnerable is what brings healing - when the light meets the dark - (thank you Tenth Avenue North).  I've experienced healing when others have said to me I understand. I've been there. You're not alone. 
 
There's one thing I know for sure ~ let your scars show. Because they matter. Don't let fear stop you from owning your truth. Those scars are there for a reason. To teach you something or maybe someone else. A definite reminder that our scars make us who we are. I believe they are a reminder of God's grace and love despite what we see.

After all, Our help comes from You. You're right here pulling us through. You carry our weakness, our sickness, our brokenness all on your shoulders. We don't have to see it to believe it.

Our Firecracker

Tomorrow would've been our daughter's 14th birthday. Instead of a birthday celebration, we will memorialize Emily Rose in our annual visit to her grave. Since her death, I have found it healing for me to go through her "memory box" on July 4th, which includes photos of her, a clip of her hair; personal items and sympathy cards. I'd read through each card every year.

I'd let the tears fall. Some years more than others. I'd let the memories all come back; sometimes I would catch myself smiling when I remembered how much love was poured on our family.

Recently, I met with a mom who also lost her baby to a stillbirth. A mutual friend, she and I sat outside on this neat patio at a cafe in West Allis, and we just talked and talked.

It's interesting how quickly a stranger can become a friend.

She shared her story with me; and I shared mine. We all shed many healing tears that day. I hopefully left her with something called hope and the truth of knowing God hasn't left her side- not for one second.

Megan came across a picture of Emily recently while we were going through my grandma's personal items. The look on her face and her reaction made me realize just how 'shocking' it is to look at Emily's picture. It is really hard to look at. Yet, I feel the need to do so year after year.

Until this one.

This year I am going to skip the memory box ritual. Why? Because I'd rather have this image in my head when I think of our little firecracker on her 14th birthday in heaven...And this one sure makes me smile ~ Have a happy and safe July 4th!

Disappointment

I've been searching for another family member for over a month now.  Another dog, specifically. Even more specifically, a puppy. It has to be a male and a Yellow Labrador Retriever mix. The "mix" choice comes from experience with our Cally girl (likened to the picture below). We had her only 12 years - not long enough. Yes, I am particular but everyone else would be happy with whatever I brought home. 

After all, this is a very important decision whether you are an animal lover or not. I've been one all of my life. Growing up, my family bred English Springer Spaniels. We always had at least one, mostly two, dogs running around our house. Puppies would come and go - we all shed many tears when that happened. This is a huge commitment. It's a big decision. Any animal becomes a part of your family. Forever.

Yes - we know the time, commitment and sacrifice it will take. I've learned along the way that it is worth it. We have been back-n-forth about a puppy versus a young or an adult one. We've had a home visit from one rescue, applied to several more. Every other day I've been showing Mark and the kids a "picture" of a possible match for us. As time went by, I would receive one email of 'disappointment' after another about a dog not being available. Or I would receive no reply at all. Or the dog was five states away!

I recently visited the Wisconsin Humane Society (with my specific list and all)  and was surprised at how my heart was tugged at by each one in its cage. It did not matter what breed or size or gender...my heart just melted. I wanted to take them all. Each one of them with a story to tell. Before leaving, I had to visit the kitty area and was pretty proud of myself for not walking out with another cat. :) I am happy with my Jimmy...18 lbs and all!

I couldn't possibly take all of the dogs at the Human Society so instead I said a prayer for each one as I walked on by. I believe it made us both feel better. I left that day without a dog or a puppy.

Disappointment...again.

We have been working with a specific dog rescue for over a month, including a "home visit," but they, unfortunately, do not have enough volunteers to keep the organization operating efficiently. We've been disappointed several times by them.

I started to spend less time searching for a dog, although, the dog is to be a birthday gift for Mark's 45th coming up this Thursday, May 21st.

This morning I decided to start my hunt once again. I browsed different pet websites and finally found what we were looking for at the Wisconsin Humane Society -  a litter of Yellow Labrador Retriever mix males puppies were "Coming Soon." That's what the website said.

I felt hopeful and emailed them immediately to ask when they were going to be available and if I could put a deposit down on one of them. They promptly replied that the puppies were available today, and there was already a line waiting outside for them. I was away from my computer most of the day and later discovered the puppies were already adopted.

Huh?!

I felt confused and bewildered as I wondered how these other people had the "inside scoop," and I didn't. I realized it was pretty simple actually. I didn't check the website last night, and they did.

Instead, I was taking pictures of our Matthew at his Junior/Senior at the Milwaukee Art Museum.

I was too late for the puppy, but I was where I needed to be. Not searching out dogs, but being with my son. Much more important I'd say.

Time will tell. I believe in the famous saying, "Everything happens for a reason." I know the right dog will come along at the perfect time, but in the meantime, I feel something called disappointment and it stinks. My hope remains strong. I am once again learning the hard lesson of patience.

Maybe it is this one instead?

 Or this one?

Come on! Look at them! 

There are thousands of dogs needing a furever home every day.  I know ours will come at the perfect time. The "waiting" is the hard part. Stay tuned!