My waves (some gentle, some tidal) of sadness and grief over the last year usually roll in without notice. The sadness, fear, or just dull ache is often over something specific concerning Lilah's disease (if I dealt with all of 'it' at one time, it would sink me). Right now it about missing the baby I never had. Longing for a chubby, curious baby to snuggle up next to me. Expecting to find evidence of my 'baby' getting into things. Wanting to look over and see her exploring something besides what I dropped in her lap. Listening for sounds like 'talking'...."momma". The closest way I can explain it is, like phantom limb syndrome. I know it's not like she's gone. Lilah's very much a beloved member of our family and we wouldn't ever trade her situation for different. But in my heart, something tangible feels missing. Even though I know and want Lilah here, I feel like there is a baby missing too.

It's not near the darkest of my grief, but I share it for healing and because it came up today in church.

Not my grief specifically, and thankfully....since I already had to excuse myself to the restroom once to dry my tears (i almost always cry at church, i did not bring tissues, and i was surrounded by tiny babies who were strong, and bright-eyed, and ....i was jealous). Our pastor was talking on this verse:

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. Romans 8:18

I have to say, this is usually one of those verses where I think I'm just not spiritual enough to trust that to be true or even want it. Why can't we do away all together with the sufferings?

And, I probably missed the entire main point of his message (b/c I was too busy wiping snot on my sweater), but he said "Suffering, whatever it is, and we all have it, is not going anywhere. And if you try to endure it alone, it will sink you." This was my 'aha' moment (ode to Oprah). Our culture tries to 'fix it and forget about it' when problems arise, making it doubly hard to deal with suffering that seemingly has no endpoint.

Things in our life have gotten so much easier from a logistical standpoint (easier feedings, no O2, less medicines, sitting up, having help, etc.), but all the grief remains. Maybe not all, but the remainder, I am learning, we will carry with us through this lifetime. This suffering is not going anywhere. I don't have to work to 'get through it' or 'get over it'. Some of it will just always be hard, terrible, heart-breaking. But, it doesn't have to be crushing or isolating or devastating.

Our family has been through more in the last year than I thought we'd be capable of doing and I know the only way it hasn't sunk us is that Jesus bore the burden. He carried us through days so dark, that I have little memory. And there have been such riches and glory on the other side. As terrible and hard as times have been, we would not change them. God's plan is exactly where we want to be.

I know my life will encompass much suffering beyond what I already know and I have absolutely no plans of going it alone.

My Christmas cards went out today...finally. And, no, they are not handmade or anything exciting--it just takes me forever to accomplish tasks like that. This friendly post is to say:

1. if you didn't get a card from our family, it means I lost your address in a freak computer incident (I am not kidding, I deleted 1/5 of my list). e-mail it to me and you, too, can have a picture of the burches laying around your house collecting dust.

2. if you receive 2 cards from me, i'm sorry....i'm just disorganized like that.

3. if you live in my neighborhood, hold your horses. i will be hand delivering to save postage. and since i already bought enough stamps for all my cards, i will be using the virgin mary & child for all other mailings until halloween.

now on to the baking.....a 'task' i enjoy so much more than the cards.:)

We had some family pictures taken this weekend and although I can't seem to get the header centered, I thought I'd share my joy because there is nothing better than having beautiful pictures of your children! She came to our house, was super sweet and patient, and didn't bat an eye at all my bribes (and subsequent threats) to behave and SMILE! Best of all, we didn't have to sell the farm to pay the sitting fee and I 'get the disk' (a.k.a. the usually outrageous record of every shot taken). Merry Christmas to me....and to you, if you call Olivia at Backseat Photos.

I love this season and have been busy decking the halls...for the last 2 weeks. My assistants have their own ideas regarding help, and it's slowing my process down a bit. :) The assistants are enjoying themselves immensely...and that's what it's all about.

G has taken the stockings off the mantle and onto his feet many times.

They are his PJs, he says.

L doing some 'help' during some holiday cooking:)

sweet girl marvels at the lights...she is so excited!

Why is it that things never really turn out quite like you expect? Our church had a Lessons and Carols Christmas service tonight. And although we have still not perfected our 'Sunday morning plan' (i.e. the 4 of us never show up together), we went for broke tonight (in the name of Christmas) and took both kids to a 6PM worship service. And we ended up...well...broke. Emotionally, that is. I had visions of basking in the love, singing hymns, loving on my children in the glow of the giant Christmas tree.

I know how ya'll love the comedy of errors that is the Burch family and church so here ya go:

We arrived late, of course. Because, in the first time since I can remember G slept until after 5pm and then insisted on a full course meal--both of which are independently extremely rare. So, we are late, park in 'special needs' parking, and sit wedged in the back corner in 2 folding chairs. Let me give you a heads up, that 2 folding chairs are not enough to accommodate 2 adults, 2 children, 4 coats, and a purse/diaper bag/magic sack the size of Texas.

I kid you not, in the first 30 secs Lilah had already dropped 2 pacis on the floor and G insisted he needed a drink. Paul took pass #1 by the men to our right with G and I started the dig in the magic sack for 'something new' for L. Pass #2 back to our seats brings an already whiny Garrett asking if I had Cheese-Its, because everyone knows you can't worship without a snack, especially one artificially cheese flavored. I did not have the requested snack, but he finally decided a candy cane and some Teddy Grahams would suffice. Between the rustling of the sacks, the chomping of the candy, and Lilah sucking on her teething ring, we were starting to draw some looks. I can't remember the offense, but Paul had to take G outside for 'a talk' (pass #3 & 4). At this point L is lunging for some unknown destination and G declares he's ready for Sunday School. I ask him if he's sure, he says 'yes', and feeling like I cannot pass thru our row again, we walk in front of the whole church to the exit. We are not 2 feet from the nursery door when he drops to the floor crying, like I'm about to send him off to Boy's School (which, by the way, I am now thinking about). He makes a huge scene, I receive several "I'm sorry" looks from passerby-ers, and we head back to the lobby. Which was convenient, b/c Paul had already bailed from the service with L (pass #5 & 6). We commiserated for a few minutes before deciding I should retrieve our things (pass #7 & 8, I can not even make eye contact with the poor men in my row by this time).

I get coats, purse, and scattered snacks/toys and we decide to cut our losses and go. Just go. Better luck next time. At least no one is crying. Good try. Yada yada. We are suited up and out the door and we notice the unthinkable--we have been blocked in. Seriously, you park in front of someone who is parked in 'special needs'? What if our special need had been a medical emergency instead of just parenting fatigue? Not that I'm bitter:)

Anyway, it was more of the same for the next hour, at which point we were all hungry and super tired. But, we did get to visit with some friends at the end of the service so there was some redemption. Also, I'm counting it a personal victory b/c I didn't go crazy and scream at anyone. Parenting keeps you humble, no?

Growing up, my family religiously hunted our Christmas tree on the day after Thanksgiving. We did not go without any member (and usually my grandma), dressed festively, and drove down the road from our cabin (where we had stayed for Thanksgiving). There was a small sign on white poster board alerting the public "Trees for Sale" and after you cut down your tree, you drove back up to the house, pointed to the area of the field the tree was found, and then payed a very fair price.

My family hit the field, spreading out different directions to find the "perfect" tree. The criteria for each of us was different. I wanted 'big'. My mom wanted one with 'holes' to put her big ornaments in the tree. My dad wanted a 'great shape'. And my brother could never remember where the one he picked was located, so his choices were out of the running. We would finally agree after each contestant had been argued and dad would lay down on the ground and cut down the chosen one with a hand saw. Then, we would pose around our tree and snap our family Christmas card picture. The ride home was filled with "I'm really glad we got that tree" "it's going to look great", "what a great tree". Very Clark Griswold.

In sharp contrast, this is how my family's tree selection went: On my way home from the doctor with Lilah today (why do I always seem to start sentences this way?), I pulled through Mayo Garden center, and had them tie a tree I had not even seen unfolded on the top of my van, while it was still running. Since they charged what it must cost to replant 100 trees, I figured it must be decent. And then, being the loving, patient mother that I am, and wanting them to really 'soak in' the festivities of Christmas....I decorated it by myself after the kids were asleep.:)

So, I bought this stuff on Amazon called Germ Free 24. It's supposed to create a 'barrier' to germs that last through 10 handwashings. You spray it on and POOF...all your germ worries are solved. Although I do have a penchant for As Sold on TV stuff, I'm not normally one to hop on the gadget bandwagon. That is, I have a heathly bit of skepticism...until it comes to 'Germ Free'. Let me just tell you all....I was clicking 'checkout' before I had even finished reading the product description (because there couldn't possibly be any negative effects to some chemicals that coat your skin despite soap, right?). I was dreaming of anxiety-free trips to the mall and confident mornings in the church nursery...and spraying it on our hands like a wild woman. This is it, I thought. This is how we'll make it through the winter sickness free.
And then, 3 days after our protective bubble was implemented, Garrett came down with a cold, and then a stomach bug, and then croup. Bubble burst.
I'm learning a lot lately about 'control'--both wanting 'to control' and feeling like things are 'in control'. I don't feel like I'm a particularly controlling person (but don't ask my family:), but I still go through waves of it. Especially in the last year. It usually rears it's ugly head when I feel like I can't do it all--that I'm juggling too many plates....having a hard time regulating their speed and height....sure to drop one or all of my figurative plates at any moment. Then I get Crazy with cleaning or list making or germ prevention. Feeling desperate to control what I can.
Then, feeling frustrated to have to re-learn the same lesson over and over, I remember that it's not all up to me. God tugs my heart....reminds me to turn it over, to trust. What I'm learning is that all this 'control'--both what I think I can change and the things that are already 'in place' (family, home, jobs, etc)--is just perceived. Any of it could change in the blink of an eye....as we know too well. I feel like this is one of those things you hear people tell you your whole life, but never really 'get it' until it happens to you. Live in today. Don't take anything for granted. At least that's the stance I'm choosing to take instead of my natural inclination to live in fear of change.
Living in the moment, letting life happen, not trying to plan out the future...I'm learning...is one of the keys to my (relative) sanity. This Thanksgiving was worlds away from last years. We were able to travel, enjoy family, and give thanks for a year of miracles. As I bask in the glow of the calm, I do not take it for granted. And I know, and remind myself, God's love is the only constant...truly unchanging. His plan, however I perceive it, is perfect. And for that, I am most thankful.