Miss Summer, God loves you...

Yesterday was good for me.  I feel refreshed.  I need that day to focus on grieving for Caleb and Ellie and to remember the way God has provided for me.  John says that July 8 is like the bitter herbs of Passover.  

I read through all the cards, letters and emails from that time.  Some were well spoken and heartfelt.  Some were awkward and heartfelt.  There were pictures from children and notes in the shaky handwriting of the elderly.  It was and is balm for my wounded soul.  It reminds me of the way God cared for us through His people.

In the cards from children, there were three themes:  God loves Miss Summer, God loves Caleb and Ellie, and I love you.  When I was in the deepest pit of grief, that is exactly what I heard from God:  I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Missing him...

My first son, Caleb, was born and died ten years ago today. Ten years - that's hard to believe. We didn't know if we would have another child and have since been blessed with four. That makes me smile every time I think about it. God has been open-handed with me.

But I still miss my son. It isn't constant as it was in those early days, but there are times when the longing for him is physically painful. It feels like the air has been removed from my chest, and the reality that my son is not with me overwhelms me.

I miss him.
Photo embroidery by my good friend crewelwhorled.

Failed photo op...

I tried to get the boys' pictures taken today. I like to get a naked baby shot of each of mine when they can push themselves up but can't quite crawl. That I called it off when Rand was obviously not going to smile/stare neutrally ahead/do anything but cry is a sign that I have matured alot in seven years. Once I have decided to do something it is almost physically painful to me to have to change plans. I usually just wing it and push through, as evidenced by David's atrocious seven month old pictures that I actually paid money for just because I had decided that it would be done. That I thought Rand felt hot and was exceptionally cranky BEFORE I bathed and dressed four boys and rushed out the door to the studio, is a sign that I'm definitely a work in progress.

Pilgrim's progress...

My favorite day of our Colorado trip was the day Chris, Amy, Blake and I hiked on our own (shout out to my awesome in-laws for keeping the kids). We took a ten mile hike up to the tree line and back. It was overwhelming - beyond words, definitely beyond pictures. You look at a mountain and it looks like trees and rock. It doesn't look like it could hold creeks, pools, rapids, meadows, lakes and waterfalls.

Our first destination was Alberta Falls, a spectacular waterfall at 9300 ft. elevation. It is difficult to wrap your mind around that much water that high up a mountain. It was fairly crowded there. It's a popular spot. We could have been satisfied staying there.


We hiked on through glades of aspens and along a ridge to Mills Lake. The idea of a lake on a mountain fascinates me. It's so unexpected. The air and the crowd was thinner there at almost 10,000 ft.


The last section of the hike was my favorite. We walked alongside a creek twisting through meadows, gently pooling in some places and crashing over and around rocks in others. There were log bridges laid end to end across a swampy meadow. I felt like a little girl, walking across those bridges with the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. There were rocks to scramble over in the woods. We met only a few people here. At the end we had to trudge through snow. We met a woman who turned back at the snow. She had about 200 yards to go. We made it through the snow and the creek, jumping from rock to rock to make it to Black Lake. The name doesn't fit - Anne Shirley would be ashamed. It's a stark and fiercely beautiful lake 10,630 feet up - right at the tree line. We were the only people there. I wanted to go on higher but we had to start down to make it back before the afternoon storms.


There are some spiritual observations that I can't resist. I think they've all been said before.

On a hike, you need all kinds of people - someone to remind you to keep going, that there's more on the trail ahead; someone to tell you not to go wandering into the woods alone no matter how enamored you are with them; someone to make you stop and look at the view; and someone to run to the edge of every precipice just because it's there.


Sometimes the water is roaring. Sometimes it's gently trickling. Sometimes you can only hear it. Even when you can't hear it, it's always there.

A tree can grow out of a rock.

God can redeem our mistakes, but we still miss things when we don't walk faithfully.

We're satisfied with so much less than God is willing to show us.

Peace. Amen.

Colorado day seven...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, even when I hate it and it sucks...

Inadvertently, I did a high ropes course today. I thought we signed up for a ropes course. That word "high" is actually key. We walked up to the course area, and there were harnesses laid out. I thought, "That's weird. We're doing the zip line at the end. Why do we have to put on harnesses now? Whatever." The instructor was going over the safety instructions. I was paying him a little more attention than I would a flight attendant, but not much. Then I caught the phrase, "thirty-five feet above the ground.". Internal monologue:
"Did he just say thirty-five feet above the ground. Holy crap. I thought this was the trust fall thing. What is he saying - clip, flip, screw, squeeze. That sounds like a porno. Who is going to be checking this when I'm up in a freaking tree."
Externally, "Chris, didn't you think it was odd that I agreed to this with no protests? What were you thinking?" Chris assured me that I didn't have to do it, but the student in me could not walk away from a class without completing the assignment. Plus the zip line looked fun.

First I had to climb the tree. That wasn't so bad. You can feel the safety rope pulling you up. It doesn't feel like it's all on you. Then I stepped onto the little platform. Things started to spin. I had to let go with both hands to get things set up - bad, but not the worst. The worst part was taking the first step from the platform to the line. I seriously nearly had a heart attack. Midway through I almost fell. I started reciting, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, even when I hate it and it sucks." That got me across two lines and safely to the zip line, which rocked.

I have now experienced a high ropes course and will not be participating in that insanity again.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Colorado day six...

The most spectacular hike I've taken...

















Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone