My dear friend Tami sent me a message today. It said simply, " My heart aches for Angeliyah today." In the moment that I read her words, my heart ached with her. It took a moment for the dull and laborious thud to return to normal in my chest. And as Tami thought about her little girl today, I thought about her little girl too... and since I was thinking about her little girl... I thought about my own little girl.
That's the way it works. Because Tami's journey has been so similar to my own, because many moms has, when they express grief to me, I can understand that grief too. Their story reminds me of my own... their loss and their tears ignite my own loss and my own tears. It intertwines our lives- sharing the connection of losing a child.
I have told you often about Faith. Details here and there about her, our journey, my grief, my thoughts, my heart, our God who has held us through all of this.
Today, let me tell you a little bit about Angeliyah.
Angeliyah Grace, was born at 29 weeks gestation. Her name means Ascending Angel. Her entire life, from conception to death, was shrouded in love. She has an older brother Raife, who loves her very much, and a younger sister Remi that she helped to pick out for Mom and Dad. She also has three siblings that are in heaven with her that never made it to their mom and dads arms. She had six fingers on her right hand... dainty feminine fingers that looked like they were made for her parents to hold. She lived for 32 minutes on earth. She was beautiful and perfect in every way except for the broken heart that was trying to beat in her chest. Her 32 minutes on earth, and the 29 weeks that she was in gestation, created a legacy of love that will continue for many years to come.
To see the beautiful slideshow that helps to tell Angeliyah's story, visit here:
http://www.onetruemedia.com/shared?p=30756b25c28e51a48900e6&skin_id=701&utm_source=otm&utm_medium=text_url
I had a conversation with a friend earlier this week in regards to Forgiveness. It is something I have been struggling with a little bit in one of my relationships. I never thought I was the kind of person to hold a grudge, so I have absolultely learned a lot about myself through this experience.
I have learned that I can harbor resentment, quite easily, and that of the five apology languages,(http://www.amazon.com/Five-Languages-Apology-Experience-Relationships/dp/1881273792/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1254493519&sr=8-1) (from The Five Apology Languages: How to experience Healing in all your relationships, by Gary Chapman) I really need to have someone accept responsibility or repent to move on. Becuase of this, I really latched on to a bible verse I read last week and I shared this in my conversation with my friend. It was in Luke 17:3-4, 3 “Be alert. If you see your friend going wrong, correct him. If he responds, forgive him.4 Even if it’s personal against you and repeated seven times through the day, and seven times he says, ‘I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,’ forgive him.”
My conversation with my friend went something like this:
Me: I just need to call a truce. I should be a bigger person
Friend: Wait, What?
(explanation ensues, discussion about occurrence that is upsetting me, )
Me: " I am just still feeling angry. I don't want to be fickle or resentful. But if they would just acknowledge that they have upset me, I think I could move on. I think I am just a little too judgemental. I am going to pray for my heart to be yielding and not stern. The message version of Luke 17 talks about forgiving a friend that ASKS for forgiveness as many times as they ask it- but what about a friend that does not ask it.?"
Friend: Grace is good! I will pray too. I have thought through that. See, it says we will be forgiven when we forgive, I feel it is better to forgive without being asked. That way the heart is right."
This conversation gave me a lot more to think about. You see, in my heart, I really wanted to be able to hold a grudge until my friend came to me and asked forgiveness. I felt I had a right to be angry until this happened. As hard as it is for me to admit how calloused I was in this situation, I have to confess the truth. As I mentioned sometime last week, I am searching to know who God IS. I am trying to quit looking at myself and who I AM, and to find a better understanding and foundation of who GOD IS. I believe once I know who God is, then who I am will be found in that. I did a search on forgiveness and came across a wonderful study by Baylor University titled " God's Purpose is Forgiveness". The title of this study caught my eye and drew my attention. After all, I have heard that God's purposes are many things... but never simplified into this one statement. Jesus Christ was sent on a mission, which is summed up quite nicely in John 3:16. " For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have ever lasting life." His mission was forgiveness for anyone that would believe in him.
In fact, Jesus was criticized by the pharisee for being forgiving of sins. In Luke 7:49 they said " Who does he think he is, forgiving sins!?!"
Isn't that a great statement of our society today? We are so unforgiving. It is hard to look past the ways we have been wronged. In marriages, friendships, families, experiences shopping, driving on the road. We feel fueled but what we think is a righteous anger- reacting strongly when we have been wronged. We sometimes criticize those that forgive too much, or allow others to hurt them. But maybe all this time I have gotten it wrong?
If God's purpose is forgiveness, shouldn't this be my purpose too?
If you pray for me this week, please pray this one thing: that my heart would be yielding and not stern, and that I could have a heart full of love and forgiveness for my friend without ever being asked for it.
Nehemiah: 9: 16-20 16 "But our ancestors were proud and stubborn, and they paid no attention to your commands.17 They refused to obey and did not remember the miracles you had done for them. Instead, they became stubborn and appointed a leader to take them back to their slavery in Egypt! But you are a God of forgiveness, gracious and merciful, slow to become angry, and rich in unfailing love. You did not abandon them,18 even when they made an idol shaped like a calf and said, `This is your god who brought you out of Egypt!' They committed terrible blasphemies. 19 "But in your great mercy you did not abandon them to die in the wilderness. The pillar of cloud still led them forward by day, and the pillar of fire showed them the way through the night.20 You sent your good Spirit to instruct them, and you did not stop giving them manna from heaven or water for their thirst.
My baby became my little boy and now that little boy is turning into quite the big boy.
My firstborn, my only son, Ethan Brock Carlson, turned five just a few weeks ago.
I remember the day he came to us, a hot day in September in 2004.
I spent the previous day at the hospital, waiting for his cousin Paige to be born. I was worn out by the end of the day from a long wait in the waiting room and the annoying braxton hicks contractions that I was suffering from all afternoon. I collapsed into bed around seven pm.
I got up early that Thursday morning, September 16th, to go to my weekly check up at the doctor's office. I was not due until October 1st(or September 27th- we seemed to beebop between these two dates from appointment to appointment) and my doctor was on his annual visit to his home country, Iran. He had told me not to worry, just don't have the baby early, and he would be back to deliver our baby boy by my Due Date. This seemed like a logical and probable course becuase my cervix had not thinned at all at my last appointment with him and I was not dialated.
Things tend to be unpredictible for our family, and Ethan's arrival was no exception. When I arrived at the Doctors office, Treva, the nurse who had been assisting DR M. for years, took my vitals as usual. She took my blood pressure and frowned and had me lay on my left side a minute. When she took it a second time, she decided it was imperative to go to the labor and delivery unit at Memorial Hospital for monitoring. Cliff and I came to the Doctor's office in seperate vehicles becuase he had been on his way to work and we both took the 3 minute drive to the hospital and hurried inside. Once we were there, they checked me into labor and delivery and within about 1 hour had decided to go ahead and induce labor due to preeclampsia.
We called Cliff's parents and told them the news. After a long day and night of waiting to meet Paige Marie, Cliff's parents were exhausted and were caught a little off guard by the call. After we notified them we called several other friends and family members including Cliff's brother who thought it was a big joke. We assured him it was not, and prepared to meet our son. After a long day of waiting, our substitute physician, Dr B., decided to do a cesarean. I am fairly certain that my "Yes!!!" seemed a little too enthusastic when she asked if I wanted to pursue this option. Needless to say, I was extremely scared of the idea of childbirth, hadn't eaten or had a drink all day, and had a less than favorable ultrasound of Ethan in which he scored a 6 out of 10 on the scale. We waited through the evening for the surgery team to be free, and finally as my blood pressure began to rise even more, an emergency team was called in and they wheeled me down for surgery. Cliff claims that the time he waited for them to come out to get him while they prepped me was the longest wait of his life in which he spent every second ferverently praying.
My firstborn, my only son, Ethan Brock Carlson, turned five just a few weeks ago.
I remember the day he came to us, a hot day in September in 2004.
I spent the previous day at the hospital, waiting for his cousin Paige to be born. I was worn out by the end of the day from a long wait in the waiting room and the annoying braxton hicks contractions that I was suffering from all afternoon. I collapsed into bed around seven pm.
I got up early that Thursday morning, September 16th, to go to my weekly check up at the doctor's office. I was not due until October 1st(or September 27th- we seemed to beebop between these two dates from appointment to appointment) and my doctor was on his annual visit to his home country, Iran. He had told me not to worry, just don't have the baby early, and he would be back to deliver our baby boy by my Due Date. This seemed like a logical and probable course becuase my cervix had not thinned at all at my last appointment with him and I was not dialated.
Things tend to be unpredictible for our family, and Ethan's arrival was no exception. When I arrived at the Doctors office, Treva, the nurse who had been assisting DR M. for years, took my vitals as usual. She took my blood pressure and frowned and had me lay on my left side a minute. When she took it a second time, she decided it was imperative to go to the labor and delivery unit at Memorial Hospital for monitoring. Cliff and I came to the Doctor's office in seperate vehicles becuase he had been on his way to work and we both took the 3 minute drive to the hospital and hurried inside. Once we were there, they checked me into labor and delivery and within about 1 hour had decided to go ahead and induce labor due to preeclampsia.
We called Cliff's parents and told them the news. After a long day and night of waiting to meet Paige Marie, Cliff's parents were exhausted and were caught a little off guard by the call. After we notified them we called several other friends and family members including Cliff's brother who thought it was a big joke. We assured him it was not, and prepared to meet our son. After a long day of waiting, our substitute physician, Dr B., decided to do a cesarean. I am fairly certain that my "Yes!!!" seemed a little too enthusastic when she asked if I wanted to pursue this option. Needless to say, I was extremely scared of the idea of childbirth, hadn't eaten or had a drink all day, and had a less than favorable ultrasound of Ethan in which he scored a 6 out of 10 on the scale. We waited through the evening for the surgery team to be free, and finally as my blood pressure began to rise even more, an emergency team was called in and they wheeled me down for surgery. Cliff claims that the time he waited for them to come out to get him while they prepped me was the longest wait of his life in which he spent every second ferverently praying.
Our son, Ethan Brock Carlson, was born at 9:50 PM, screaming on the way out. The Surgical Technican told us that Ethan was going to be a "Rock Star" with those lungs. He arrived with a mohawk of blond hair, weighing just 6 lbs( he is still a lightweight), with tired old man eyes( he still looks like an old man when he is sleeping), and with his future awaiting him.
Here is Ethan through the years:
In the Factory
Age: negative 3 months
Age: Zero years, a few hours
Age: 1 year
Age: 2 years
Age: 3 years
.JPG)
Age: 4 years
Age: 5 years
This week in my daily bible reading something stood out to me.
Since it quirked by interest I have decided to pursue learning more about it with the hopes that it will reveal to me a little bit more about God.
After all, the bible says " You shall seek me and you will find me if you seek me with all your heart."Jeremiah 29:13
The parable is a short one... not followed by much explanation and it goes like this:
Then Jesus told this story: "A man planted a fig tree in his garden and came again and again to see if there was any fruit on it, but he was always disappointed.7 Finally, he said to his gardener, `I've waited three years, and there hasn't been a single fig! Cut it down. It's just taking up space in the garden.' 8 "The gardener answered, `Sir, give it one more chance. Leave it another year, and I'll give it special attention and plenty of fertilizer.9 If we get figs next year, fine. If not, then you can cut it down.'"( from Luke 13)
So what do you think? Who is the gardner in this scenerio? Who is the fig tree? Some say that the gardner is the Holy Spirit who intercedes on our behalf to God(the owner) Some have said that this parable is a story of redemption.... of Christ asking for time from God to redeem us....
The story seems to say to me that God has granted us another chance.... Not indefinite chances of course... but another day, another breath, another moment.
Am I embracing those moments to know him, "to grow" fully and completely?
I hope moving forward that I can.
Since it quirked by interest I have decided to pursue learning more about it with the hopes that it will reveal to me a little bit more about God.
After all, the bible says " You shall seek me and you will find me if you seek me with all your heart."Jeremiah 29:13
The parable is a short one... not followed by much explanation and it goes like this:
Then Jesus told this story: "A man planted a fig tree in his garden and came again and again to see if there was any fruit on it, but he was always disappointed.7 Finally, he said to his gardener, `I've waited three years, and there hasn't been a single fig! Cut it down. It's just taking up space in the garden.' 8 "The gardener answered, `Sir, give it one more chance. Leave it another year, and I'll give it special attention and plenty of fertilizer.9 If we get figs next year, fine. If not, then you can cut it down.'"( from Luke 13)
So what do you think? Who is the gardner in this scenerio? Who is the fig tree? Some say that the gardner is the Holy Spirit who intercedes on our behalf to God(the owner) Some have said that this parable is a story of redemption.... of Christ asking for time from God to redeem us....
The story seems to say to me that God has granted us another chance.... Not indefinite chances of course... but another day, another breath, another moment.
Am I embracing those moments to know him, "to grow" fully and completely?
I hope moving forward that I can.
Today as we pulled out of the garage to head to church, I noticed immediately that the air was filled with fog. Not the typical early autumn fog that rolls across the ground, accompaning the frost and leaving a cold wet sheen upon the grass. This was heavy, a pea soup sort of Fog which went in every direction and made driving slow and tedious.
As we got very near to the church I joked to the family "What happened to the church!? It is gone!" Indeed, the fog was so thick that we could not see the building of which drive we had just turned upon. Ethan grew upset immediately and started to cry. Quickly, Cliff calmed him down and told him it was a joke and as we drew nearer to the parking lot you could densely see the outline of the large building. Ethan caught on quickly and to express his relief or perhaps to cover is gullibility, he began to joke aloud over and over that someone had hidden the church. This joking went on until we were all unloaded and in the building.
Through much of my life, I have felt like this fog. I have struggled to know WHO I am, how the world sees me, what I am about. More so than even this, I have struggled with seeing clearly who I am in Christ and how the picture of serving Him with My life has fit together. It suddenly became clear to me as I sat quietly listening to the message- that it does not matter WHO I am... all the matter is that I know who HE is. The key to growing closer to God, to finding direction in serving Him, is learning who he is. The rest he will make clear to me over time. Life is Fog, but Christ- he is our lighthouse, our becon of light, and it is through knowing him that we can truly see life and who we are, as his children.
Throughout the first experience while we served and into the second experience as Cliff and I sat in the main hall watching the message, I thought about God and my relationship with Him and how I relate to him. In the last month or two I have felt adrift. Not in my faith that He is real, but in my interactions with Him, in my commitment to spend time seeking Him. I have been drifting through my recent days with half hearted attempts at growing closer to him. And in the most recent days, I have felt that adriftness. I know the key to growing closer with him is seeking Him, searching him out, learning about him.
This is my quest in the coming days and weeks and I hope that you can each help me with this quest. I don't want to make another half hearted attempt. I want to be earnest, consistent, committed to growing closer to him. Dear Reader, could you please help to encourage me in this? Would you consider emailing me (mdmoltsau@hotmail.com) in the next few weeks to check in on this quest, sending me encouragement in seeking him, and sharing with me ways or tools that have helped you come to know him. Scriptures that speak to your heart, stories of times when he has spoken to you?
All my life I have sought to know WHO I am- now it is time to focus on WHO He is..... and my hope is that the former will fall into place in doing so.
I am home from work today, and making the most of my time with Olivia. We have nothing planned to do today and it feels GREAT! We took a trip outdoors for a few minutes to play, even though it is still a little muddy and wet from the rain earlier in the week.
Trying for a good mother/daughter portrait. She was more interested in playing.
Chasing Bayer. This is the first time I have seen her run without her "jet wings" to balance her
Trying for a good mother/daughter portrait. She was more interested in playing.
Chasing Bayer. This is the first time I have seen her run without her "jet wings" to balance her
Last weekend was a whirlwind weekend for me which started at the Sugarland Outdoor Zooamphitheater Concert Event in Oklahoma City. I was working the event at the US Cellular tent, taking free photos of fans which we printed out on the spot. It is quite a treat to see so many happy, excited people and to get to take a photo to help them commemorate the event.
I was happily snapping away and stepped away from a group of ladies to print out their portrait. As I waited for my picture to come out of the photo maker, I saw a wonderful picture come out just ahead of mine of a silly little girl with wild blond pigtails, Lisa Loeb type glasses, smiling empishly in a pink polkadoted dress and rain boots. She was definitely a ham! I smiled to myself and handed off the pictures I had printed to the eagerly waiting Sugarland fans and turned my attention to the little girl in polka dots.
It was just a moment, but it changed the atmosphere of the whole night. As I watched her with her family, my breath caught in my throat. She was there with her mom and dad, and a little sister who was in a matching polka dotted dressed and pearched gingerly on her daddy's shoulders. She had tiny little pigtail buns in her equally blond hair and it took only a moments glance to see that she was the more graceful, dainty sister. What a pair they made.
I had to remind myself to breath as I thought of my own two little girls, the 14 month old goofy girl I have here on earth, and her 26 month old sister, a graceful little angel in heaven. What would they look like in matching dresses? A fragile red head with curly hair and pale skin, and her brown haired, olive skinned, sturdy comedian sister in tow?My heart constricted and I excused myself to the bathroom(port-o-potty) before I began to cry.
I have been thinking of the two girls ever since... and trying to imagine my own ... together, in matching sister dresses.
I was happily snapping away and stepped away from a group of ladies to print out their portrait. As I waited for my picture to come out of the photo maker, I saw a wonderful picture come out just ahead of mine of a silly little girl with wild blond pigtails, Lisa Loeb type glasses, smiling empishly in a pink polkadoted dress and rain boots. She was definitely a ham! I smiled to myself and handed off the pictures I had printed to the eagerly waiting Sugarland fans and turned my attention to the little girl in polka dots.
It was just a moment, but it changed the atmosphere of the whole night. As I watched her with her family, my breath caught in my throat. She was there with her mom and dad, and a little sister who was in a matching polka dotted dressed and pearched gingerly on her daddy's shoulders. She had tiny little pigtail buns in her equally blond hair and it took only a moments glance to see that she was the more graceful, dainty sister. What a pair they made.
I had to remind myself to breath as I thought of my own two little girls, the 14 month old goofy girl I have here on earth, and her 26 month old sister, a graceful little angel in heaven. What would they look like in matching dresses? A fragile red head with curly hair and pale skin, and her brown haired, olive skinned, sturdy comedian sister in tow?My heart constricted and I excused myself to the bathroom(port-o-potty) before I began to cry.
I have been thinking of the two girls ever since... and trying to imagine my own ... together, in matching sister dresses.
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