Quiet & Gratitude

It has been really quiet around here since kindergarten started. Audrey Nole is the best filler of negative space, particularly if that space is silence. She has a million and one things to say - and most of the time doesn’t even need you to participate, as her dialogue is mainly a monologue. So as we end the first 2 weeks or so of the school year, Harry and I find ourselves enjoying the quiet; the negative space that will allow him to show up and full as he sees fit, and not just always defer to his sister. 

I’m looking forward, with great anticipation, to finding out who this sweet little man is when he’s given the space to be himself. We already know that he is flirty and full of smiles. Will he be a talker like big sister? Will he be a profound thinker, who watches the world and processes internally? Will be be an explorer? Will he leave the safety of his playmat and discover all the best hiding places our 4 walls have to offer? Will he keep me on my toes? Entertain me? Will he be content to sit with me in the quiet or will he fill the silence with all the sounds of boyhood? 

I feel a little bit guilty even thinking this, but it has been such a pleasure to send Audrey to school. She is more social than I will ever be able to keep up with, and the time with her peers has been invaluable to her and I’s relationship. After nearly 8 months of isolation, her and I really needed for her to have the space to spread her wings. As her mama, I want to be able to give her all the things she needs to flourish in each season, but in the era of Covid, my ability to provide for her in this particular way had been stripped from my control. The mandated isolation and need for physical, and so often social, distancing from the people that fed her extroverted desires, took its toll. So even amongst the fears and unknowns of what in-person school might open us up to, collectively this family was thrilled to start the year. God has relieved my fears time and again, as I listen to the joy in her voice when she tells me about school. The guilt of not missing her fades and the gratitude for a place where she can fill her cup settles in deep. Those car rides home are something that I shall never forget. As I look into the rearview and see the smiles from Harry that are given to his sister and the deep conversations she has with him about how wonderful kindergarten is, I say a silent prayer of thanks. 

Kindergarten has been good for all of us. The one on one time with Harry is precious and the social setting for Audrey Nole is long awaited and desperately needed. Our dinner time conversations are so much better and the time we spend together as a family is something we can all look forward to; especially now that it is the exception and not the rule. 

Three cheers for the silence that is waiting to be filled and a mama heart who is thrilled to see what it holds. 

“Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.” Hebrews 12:28-29 

5 Months Old

Harry Beau,

How are you 5 months old?!? It feels like I say that just about every month, but it really feels true. Our time with you has been brief and yet feels as if it has always been. You, my dear sweet boy, have been the perfect addition to our family; a wonderful caboose to the emotions of child rearing. You are the happiest boy with the most expressive eyebrows. You are skeptical of all things and joyful toward all people. Your smile will move mountains one day. It’s already melting hearts, I can assure you of that.

You are lazy and content, which makes me laugh because it’s so different than what we experienced with Audrey. You lie on your play mat and take in the world. There’s no urgency to grow up. I’m thankful for that, as it reminds me to be still and enjoy this precious time with you. To not rush through the seasons just to get to the next one and then rush again. Watching you wiggle through your days with the biggest smile and the cutest tongue, has me all tied up in abundant love and surprising patience. In case you ever wonder, that’s totally a God thing... mama isn’t know for her patience.

In the last week or so you have started to becoming increasingly annoyed by your lack of capabilities in the world. Your laziness is backfiring just a tad, as it seems you would really like to sit up and enjoy the world from a new vantage point. Yet, you collapse into all the directions when we sit you up to play. Find some determination, sweet boy, because you’re almost there! We’ve also started playing a bit with solids, and while you haven’t hated anything, you haven’t just loved anything either. As I said before, you are very skeptical of new things. Food is supposed to be a brief and lazy experience in your mind. You nurse for just a few minutes and then back to smiling at the world. Solids require a bit more effort and getting messy. It will be quite interesting to see what the next month holds for you as you begin to taste more than mama’s milk.

Audrey Nole started kindergarten this month and so you and I have had some really lovely one on one time together. I think the quiet of the house without your sister has been an adjustment, but I hope it allows you to find your voice. This is a family of loud, straight forward humans, and I have no doubt you will add to the noise as you grow. I can’t wait to see just exactly how. It has been a great pleasure to get to know you and I’m so looking forward to what new things we can discover over the next months.
We love you so, Harry Beau. Happy 5 Months!!

Love,

Mama & Daddy

Big Feelings & Day 2 of Kindergarten

I’ve been trying, for what seems like weeks, to put into words all the emotions of sending our eldest child off to school. She has spent the last two years going to preschool, and that didn’t feel hard, so it has been a bit of a shock to my system to experience such a wide array of big feelings surrounding the start of kindergarten. I have no doubt that the pandemic is playing a role in some of the anxieties. Wondering if our decisions surrounding her education are being met with proper scrutiny and anticipation of all the potential risks to her health and well being. Living our lives without letting fear dictate decisions, while giving proper weight to all of the reasons to be fearful. It has been a delicate balance and still seems quite… unbalanced. 

I think most importantly, I am incredibly thankful for her school. It wasn’t easy to place her education into the hands of others (especially as I was homeschooled, and my  largest experiences surrounding learning were in my home), but it was abundantly apparent that Audrey Nole and I needed someone else to be her teacher. So as we toured her school last fall, it felt big and small all at once; with all the thoughts about both. And as all of the unknowns of this crazy year began to unfold, I become more and more thankful for that school. As I have watched the plans for on-campus learning get hashed out - gosh, how strange it is to even type those words out - I have found myself praying not only for the wisdom of the administrators, but for the deep gratitude that I feel for those people God has placed in roles of leadership. They have been a comfort to this anxious mama heart in one of the weirdest seasons. 

As I dropped Audrey off for her second day of school, and her first full day on campus, I was both incredibly proud and immensely sad as I watched her walk up the stairs all by herself. She was so courageous and independent in that moment and it felt like the smallest of compliments as a mother - to watch her ready to take on life, take on kindergarten - that her dad and I have prepared her, by the grace of God, to feel fully confident in who she is and where she is going. Despite being nervous, she got out of the car with a smile on her face and barely looked back as I waved good bye. I was so excited for her and so sad for me. It’s been a hard several months, being mostly stuck at home, but even after all the togetherness and the much needed break from one another, I will miss her today and every day. 

God has given us the gift, amongst all the chaos, of the sweetest school and the most normal looking days we could ask for. I’m thankful for that gift. I’m thankful for the way in which Audrey gets out of the car and goes about her day. She has no fear of Covid-19. She has no frustration over mask mandates or the strangeness of physical distancing. She simply has new friends, a darling teacher, and so much to learn. I’m thankful that the big feelings surrounding kindergarten coming to our family are only mine. And I will continue to pray for the little daily reminders of God’s presence in these long and confusing days. That I would never forget the bravery of my five year old as she enters elementary school, and that I would trust as deeply in my heavenly Father as she is trusting in the decisions that her daddy and I are making in these strange times. 

She's Off to Kindergarten!

Audrey Nole,

Today, your brother and I dropped you off for your very first day of Kindergarten. I’m honestly not sure how we’ve known you long enough to be sending you to school, but here we are. Despite a global pandemic, you are embarking on the journey of a lifetime: Learning! I know that you will be a bright light in that classroom. And even though your mouth will most likely be covered, the world will see your smile in those giant eyes that God gave you. They are an unexpected, and very welcome, gift in these strange times that we are living in. 

Your daddy and I have said over and over in the last month that it seems surreal to already have a kindergartener. Most days it feels as if you’ve been in our lives for as long as we can remember, but then there are days when the memories of meeting you for the first time seem so vivid that it’s literally unbelievable that you are 5 and heading off to school. We have prayed and prayed that this year would be the most wonderful yet. That you would go to school and thrive where God has you and bring back all of that excitement and joy to share with us at home. I’m so looking forward to our conversations on the way home from school and around the dinner table as you expand your world and discover all the new things that school brings you. 

Harry and I will miss you while you’re gone, but it will make the time we have in the mornings and evenings that much more special. Your little bro really does adore you, and it is such a pleasure to see you love on him. Now you will get to tell him all about the world and share all the wonderful things you are learning in kindergarten. It’s going to be a blast! 

I know that today, and likely most of this year, will be harder for me and daddy than it is for you. We are sending you out into the world and covering you in prayer. We have prayed for deep and wonderful friendships for you. For a deeper knowledge of who God is so that you can learn to trust Him all on your own; that you might know that God is the best, most consistent, caring, friend in all of the certain and uncertain times in your life. He shares in your joy and your pain. He sustains without abandon. So, my dear sweet girl, Happy First Day of Kindergarten! Mama, Daddy, and Harry love you so, so much; and I’m sure that George is cheering you on from Heaven. (if there was such a thing as jealousy in heaven, he might be experiencing that today… because kindergarten really is the best ever!)

I can’t wait to give you an enormous hug when I pick you up today! 

Love you sweet girl! 

 “Haven’t I commanded you? Strength! Courage! Don’t be timid; don’t get discouraged. God, your God, is with you every step you take.” Joshua 1:9 (the MSG)

Peaches, Pandemics, & Parenting

My sister has been here visiting over the last few days and it has been so fun. To watch Audrey with her cousin and her brother is the stuff that dreams are made of. Family is a life line in these weird days of pandemic parenting. When the whole world has begun treating all people with “stranger danger” mentality, it is refreshing to take the plunge into the family pool where the potential risks are far outweighed by the bazillion and one benefits; mainly the feeling of getting to fill your cup, that has been so deeply depleted over the last few months.

Today, Audrey and I harvested our peaches from the baby tree we planted last spring. It was our first real fruits from the labor of love it is to keep a new tree from dying in the intense heat of Utah summers. She has been patiently watching them grow and turn from the pale green of budding fruit to the bright and saturated peachy orange that signifies it is pie ready. (Because who doesn’t love peach pie?!?) As we gently plucked each peach from its home on the tree, we discovered so much life happening. There were spiders and bees. Worms had even taken up housing inside one of the peaches. She loved it. It was satisfying to see those hot days of extra water paying off. Those fruits will be extra delicious because we had a hand in bringing them to fruition.

I suppose it was a bit of a lesson in parenting. Watering and pruning a tree for a year and then slowly and patiently watching the peaches ripen on their branches. Not to forget the washing and rinsing and eventual chopping that will go into the eventual pie. All these long days of raising littles will one day mean our adult kids and their spouses are fun to be around. It will lead to world changing humans who are humble and kind. It’s hard work with a whole heck of a lot of delayed gratification. But in the end, just like that peach pie, all of the hard parenting moments and exhausting days (and nights, thanks to baby Harry) will have been so very worth it.

It’s hard to see past the monotony and loneliness of pandemic parenting some days. But we have a God who cares deeply for our hearts and nourishes our souls, and because of that, we have harvest days. Today we literally harvested fruit. But so many times the reward for our diligence in raising our children is in smaller, less obvious moments. Watching them hug a friend or care for their dog. It comes in the spontaneous drawing of pictures and short drives to deliver them to friends. It can be seen in the way they love their siblings or their cousins - the few times a year they get to see them - and in the way they get so excited over the simplest pleasures. Thank you Jesus, for the sweetest moments and reminders that this hard work is your work and is completely worth it.

4 Months Old

Harry Beau,
Today you are 4 months old and it has been quite the eventful (or really, complete lack of events) time with you. As I watch you grow bigger and more alert, I so cherish the sweet giggles that you share with your big sister. You really do think she is the funniest. You are getting very tall, but you are quite skinny. I think you’re going to love food when the time comes. I actually just ordered you a high chair so you can start practicing sitting at the table with us. Heres hoping it’s a successful endeavor - because as of late, dinner time has been especially hard for all of us. You also have decided that this week would be a good time to start figuring out all these new tricks. You have found your feet. You started to roll. You laugh so hard at yourself in the mirror. And you want SO BADLY to sit up on your own. We are cheering you on as you explore your world.

You have the very best grin. Your whole body lights up when you smile and you stick your tongue out so far. Its so dang cute. You saw your pediatrician yesterday and she agrees. You flirted with her the whole time. I hope you always keep that gentle, flirty way about you. It is welcoming and endearing; things the world needs more of these days.

Audrey Nole is going to start school in a couple of weeks and then it will be just you and me at home all day. I’m not sure if your’e going to like the quiet or miss the chaos. Either way, we are going to make sure to take full advantage of her last weeks at home with us full time. Despite all of the frustrations that this pandemic has brought, having your sister home with us and watching your sweet relationship form has been such an unexpected gift. Your age gap always worried me a little so it has been so fun to watch the two of you really get to know one another and truly enjoy each other’s company.

You still haven’t met near as many people as I had hope and expected for you over these last few months. You almost always give people a funny look when you see them without a mask (which is not often these days). Its so strange to think of all the ways your world is different from that of your sister’s. I cannot wait to see what God has in store for your life - pandemic of 2020 makes for a pretty great story for you to tell your grandkids one day. It will be a joy to watch your story unfold over the next years and decades.

God made you for this unique time in history. He shaped you and formed you for a task that only you can complete. It’s such a joy to be your mama. I really cannot wait to watch you grow. Each month that passes has brought a little glimpse into who you are and who you will become. It is my greatest pleasure to be you and Audrey’s mama and it is the biggest responsibility I could ever take on. I hope you know that your daddy and I pray for you. We pray for our wisdom in raising you and for you to know and feel known by the great God that created you. There is much to be discovered about your role in all of the chaos outside the four walls of our home, and I’m so excited to be able to do it alongside you.

We love you sweet boy. Keep growing. Keep smiling. Keep becoming you. It’s the injection of joy that all of our hearts desperately need in this moment.

Happy 4 months, Harry Beau. We love you.

Mama & Daddy

Missing Mama & ... Surviving?

Our sweet little man is almost four months old. He is really so happy and sweet. His giggles are deep and his smile is made out of his whole body. Its been a joy to get to know him and watch the ways that life makes him smile. But it has also brought with it a whole lot of emotions that I wasn’t quite expecting. 

As each day passes and this little boy becomes more of a person in our home, I miss his big brother. I see those sweet smiles and I wonder what George Mason would have been like. I wonder if he would have made Harry laugh in the same way that Audrey does. I wonder if George would have been a sweet and caring big brother or if he would have been the rough and tumble type. (Its easy to imagine him as being healthy and happy, because we lost him before we could fully understand how sick he was.) I wonder what juggling 3 kids would really feel like. Would it be as hard as parenting two but mothering 3? Would the added body and personality in our home be harder than the grief that I carry with me every day? Then I wonder if this quarantine would feel so lonely if we had that middle link. Would Audrey be having the same social withdrawals if her 3 year old brother were here to play with? Would I feel as big of a need to get out and share this sweet boy with the world if our world at home felt more complete? And then I realize that a single smile sent my brain and my heart into a tizzy. A dark rabbit hole of grief that I have not really been able to process until now because we have all just been surviving. 

Survival seems to be the theme of our last 5 years. I survived after my mama died and i had a baby 3 weeks later. I survived the first anniversary of her death as I planned a birthday party for our 1 year old. I survived those first few months of horrible morning sickness with a very busy toddler. I survived those last few months of pregnancy with George as we waited to see if he would live or die. I survived after his birth and the c-section that ripped open my abdomen. I survived after his death as I had to continue to parent my almost 2 year old. I survived in the waiting as I let my body heal. I survived through the fertility treatments and the disappointment month after month that our family still wasn’t growing. I survived the positive pregnancy test and the instant anxiety over the possibility of losing another child. I survived the nausea and the body aches and the insomnia. I survived the anxiety. I survived the broken ribs. I survived labor and delivery. I survived the isolation. I survived bringing home new life and not being able to share him. I survived masks in public and doing doctor visits alone. Somehow, I am surviving this pandemic and this new baby and all the emotions that have been held at bay just so that I can survive…. well they are all coming out of the woodwork. The dam has broken and I’ve reached a tipping point. 

It has been 5 years of survival. That’s not to say there hasn’t been plenty of moments where we thrived in our circumstances - God is good after all - but its stressful to live this way. This baby boy of ours felt like a period on our season of survival. And instead it seems he was a semi colon. A moment for us to take a breath and soak in the joy of welcoming our third child. And then back to the reality of a broken world. Of missing big brother and missing Grammy. Of mourning what could have been. 

As I sat in the nursery at 4am, feeding and rocking a little boy who needed me (and who hasn’t needed me like that in several weeks), I really missed my mama. In that moment, it felt like a hug from her would have just made all of the stressors of the world melt away. To watch her snuggle her grandson would somehow make the outside world less consuming. She was always the life of the room. Her smile would light up and everyone around her would feed off of it. I need her smile right now. I need the gentle way that she pointed everything back to God. She wasn’t exactly an eternal optimist, but her trust in our Heavenly Father was deep and wide, and because of that she was so easily able to find the good in the circumstance. I wish she could tell me the good in these circumstances. I wish that instead of masking up and only leaving the house for groceries and supplies, that we were meeting friends at the splash pad. That I was having brunch with my ladies and we were passing around the sweetest little boy to take in his gigantic smiles. The memories from this summer are certainly going to be weird. 

2020 is a year that we will never forget. I just hope that the survival mode that our family has been in for so long is winding down. My mama would help me find ways to be content in this moment (although she would very likely be feeding my growing hatred of all things covid related… perhaps we wouldn’t have been the best team in this particular situation). She would point me back to God. She would open her bible and know just where to go for comfort and conviction. I don’t know exactly where she would have ended up or which verse she would have presented at just the right time, but I do know that I continue to find comfort in her very favorite verse. And it feels particularly fitting in this moment of frustration and almost self pity. 

After these things the word of the LORD came unto Abram in a vision, saying, Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward. Gen 15:1

It's a Privilege to Love Them.

The last couple weeks have been very challenging. Between the exhaustion of more than four months of isolation and quarantine (with seemingly no end in sight…) and our little man’s first cold, I have felt pulled to the brink of my capacities. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. This has been a hard season. 2020 has been a hard year.

One of the most calming things I think I have ever experienced is the completely relaxed body of an infant, snuggled perfectly on my chest. I didn’t get much of that with Audrey Nole; she really never slept. But every night, she required either myself or Adam to rock her to sleep. And then sit, perfectly still, in the rocking chair to make sure that she was 100% knocked out, before placing her in her crib. At first, it felt like such a burden. To have to be fully present with a very frustrated and over tired baby girl, every night - it was taxing. But with time, I grew to love it. To truly treasure those moments of quiet after she allowed her tense little body to relax. It calmed me in the best of ways (and it also gave me a safe place to shed the tears that would come as I remembered that my mama would never get to experience those snuggles).

I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the newborn and infant stages with Harry Beau, but I have such fond memories of those nights in the rocking chair with his big sister, that I was truly excited about sharing those with him. Except God had different plans: Harry Beau is not Audrey Nole. The sweetest little newborn boy joined our family and has absolutely no desire to be rocked. To sleep or otherwise. What?!?! It took me a few weeks to realize that was the case. Then a few more weeks to learn that if he fell asleep during his bedtime feeding I needed to wake him up before placing him in his crib. Then a few more weeks to really learn his sleepy/hungry/put me to bed already cues. And these last few days, as I have laid a perfectly wide awake baby in his crib for the night, I cry a little and dance for joy at the same time.

These kiddos of mine are not the same. They cannot be compared and I cannot expect that what worked for Audrey is going to work for Harry. In fact, I can throw out most of what we did with Audrey {she was a miserable child} and start from scratch, almost as if I’m a first time mama. Being honest, I feel a lot like a newbie. Parenting a child after losing a child has completely changed things in ways that I’m not even sure I fully understand. I know that I am cherishing even the hardest moments with him. I know that my anxiety meter is fluctuating in ways that I never expected - and yet somehow more relaxed than I ever anticipated. I don’t cringe in fear over hearing him cry. I have patience with him that I didn’t have with Audrey. I’m older, perhaps wiser, but certainly more jaded. How could I possibly expect my kids to be similar as infants when I am completely different as their mother?

Even as I type this out, I’m watching my son squirm and wiggle on his monitor as he talks himself to sleep; because he gets better sleep when I let him do it his way, even though it breaks my heart a little bit that he doesn’t want to do it my way. A part of motherhood that I’m not sure I was capable of accessing when Audrey Nole was a baby. My life, and all of the trauma we have experienced these last few years, has shaped my motherhood. Heck, it has shaped my womanhood. It has completely transformed the way that I look at and live this life as one of God’s children. There are so many moments when I want to scream out of frustration over all the things going on beyond the walls of my home. But when I look inward, I am incredibly grateful for the continual reminder of a gracious God and his abundant mercies - Every. Single. Day.

As I watch my son, lie peacefully asleep in his crib, and kiss Audrey on her forehead before she gets tucked in her bed, I am so incredibly thankful for them. I’m also deeply convicted. They are my calling. My mission field. They are the reason that I cling to my bible. They are the next generation of the human race and I am called to train them up in the way they should go. They are the change this world desperately needs. They are the salt and light that will flood this world with God’s glory. They are the feet that will carry the good news of The Gospel to their city, and state, and country, and this world. They can and will make a difference in this earthly kingdom. Boy, what a responsibility it is to even know them, let alone raise them. But what a privilege to love them.

image: Megan Osburn Photography

3 Months Old

Harry Beau,

Today you are 3 months old and what a whirlwind it has been. It has been equally fast and slow, as the circumstances surrounding your birth have dictated a lot of alone time for our little family. You got to meet your Grandma & Pops and your Aunt Madi this month. It was such a sweet treat to welcome them into our home and finally get to share you, and all the joy you’ve brought, with people who love you. You did not disappoint either. There were plenty of snuggles and giggles to be shared. Sweet boy, don’t ever forget how precious you are in the eye s of your Maker and the family he made you a part of.

You are getting so big and strong. Your head is constantly on the move and you keep doing the cutest baby crunches as you try your darndest to sit up. I’m thinking you will have it in the next month. It’s definitely something you want! You are also a pretty great night sleeper, which has made everyone feel so much better about your lack of daytime sleep. When mama can get a good night’s rest, I’m much more patient with you during the day. And I’ll definitely take all the snuggles I can get!! Although, I could do without your daily desire for a 5pm bedtime. Let’s face it kid, you’re not the only child —- so you’re gonna have to suck it up and start being a little less cranky in the evenings so we can push that bedtime to 6pm at the earliest.

Watching you interact with other Audrey Nole is the absolute best part of my day. She’s a bit aggressive in her love for you, but you think she’s the best part of your world. It’s darling and it melts my heart. You gave her your very first giggle, and while that made my mama heart twinge a little with jealousy, it was also the most appropriate and satisfying way to record that first giggle in my mind. I am so thankful that you and your sister have one another. One big Praise The Lord!

I can’t wait to watch you over the next month as you start to take in all the parts and pieces of your world. Your mind is always processing and the coos and smiles and giggles that come when you make connections is the sweetest. It makes the spit up and fussiness fade away and the memories we are making together look a lot more precious. Keep on growing little man. Your daddy and I are having fun on this journey with you.

Happy 3 Months,
We love you, Harry Beau.

Mama & Daddy

Contentment in This Hard Season?

I’ve realized a lot lately just how much I dislike the infant stage of parenting. I’m much more fond of my kids when I’m no longer the cow that feeds them or the mule that carries them everywhere. When Audrey started walking and talking, it was like a different kid. Our relationship wasn’t one sided anymore and her and I could enjoy our time with each other. Don’t get me wrong, I love my babies, but I like them a whole lot more when they start become a bit more independent. And as I think through this, I wonder if that’s why I haven’t been missing George Mason as much as I expected; as much as I prepared my heart for, in anticipation of the hard emotions that would come with welcoming a healthy baby boy into our home. 

We have so enjoyed the precious life that God gave us in Harry Beau. He is darling. He smiles (thank you Pepcid) and coos. He laughs at big sister and thinks mama’s tickles are just the best. He is calm and happy and just plain adorable; in my humble mama opinion. There has been lots of trial and error as we figure out this baby - how he is the same as sissy and how he is different - and with the correction of his lip tie and the introduction of reflux meds, (also shout out to Taking Cara Babies newborn class!) we are finally getting ourselves into a workable routine. It’s wonderful. And hard. And has been missing one very obvious component: any emotion in regards to big brother. 

The places where I expected to be filled with all the feels over baby brother and his missing bigger counterpart are glaringly absent of emotion. Perhaps the global pandemic and racial tensions in our country at the moment are filling the headspace (and heart aches) that would’ve been otherwise held by George Mason? Perhaps as we survive these odd and highly charged circumstances we don’t have the capacity to be emotional over the what could have beens and should have beens. We are simply living in this moment. Loving our living children. Figuring out the navigation of virus scares and the path back to some new version of normal. I wish I could say that we were solidly trusting the God who has continually, and without fail, sustained us… but the reality lies somewhere short of complete trust, as the news is glum and the lack of community feels like a kick in the gut. Perhaps there is just no time or place to miss our sweet middle child. At least not in the ways we expected to or prepared for. Instead, we are grasping at the little moments of normalcy and doing our very best to make this season of life feel safe and comfortable for our kiddos. 

I’ve been struggling lately with the idea of contentment. Especially as a believer. God is literally all that I need and I have Him. Always. The rest is just wallpaper in a room. Beautiful, cosmetic. If I cannot find contentment in my Savior, how can I expect to be content in a world without community, where riots are filling the streets, where elections are so polarized and charged that you feel uncomfortable having conversations, and where my middle child is not here with us but instead in heaven. There is a lot to be discontent about in this moment. So its easy to justify to myself the complaints of my heart. Yet, when I read my bible and listen to the guidance of the Holy Spirit, discontent isn’t mentioned. Because God is the answer. He is the everything we need in every moment and situation. He can and will sustain me through the challenges of the infant stage. He can and will guide me through covid-19. He can and will be the force for change and reconciliation of all the world’s problems.

It has never been more clear that we need God. We need the Gospel. I need the Gospel. In my own little corner of this world, I need the peace the surpasses all understanding so that I can live without constant fear of what lies outside the four walls of my home. I need Christ, the ultimate source of all joy, so that I can be present in this moment with my kids and truly be content in all of the facets of this season; hard, lonely, tiring, grief filled, wonderfully magical childrearing moments. 

“ But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, putting on faith and love as a breastplate, and the hope of salvation as a helmet. 9 For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ. 10 He died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him. 11 Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing…. 16 Rejoice always, 17 pray continually, 18 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” - 1 Thessalonians 5:8-11; 16-18

2 Months Old

Harry Beau,

Today you are two months old. Two whole months with you and it feels just perfect. You have completed our family in the best way. You are the biggest crabby pants on the planet, and your dad even thinks you might be more crabby than your big sister was... let’s work on that, ok? No one wants to be like sissy was in her first 6 months. You have bright, wide eyes and the sweetest side grin you ever did see. I hope that in the coming weeks we see a lot more of that side of you.

You pretty much stare at your big sister anytime you can catch a glimpse of her. You love hearing her voice too. She can be a little aggressive in her move for you, so you generally let her know to back off with a well timed, albeit coincidental, punch. One day we will have to talk to you about hitting a lady (or anyone for that matter) but for now you just keep throwing the love.
You have recently become obsessed with your play gym. You love to lie on the soft cloud mat and just take in all the shapes. You’ve even accidentally hit a toy now and then and makes you so excited! It’s a joy to watch you figure out life. I love to get down on the mat with you and take in the room from your perspective. It’s truly some of the best moments with you.

You have the most adorable little “I’m hungry” grunts. I really wish I could write out their sound, but instead I’ll just have to remember them... you’re a champion eater too. Basically, I’m feeding you non stop. It shows too, as you’re baby figure is filling out so perfectly. I’m gonna keep hoping you’ll be my rolls baby, but I think you’re gonna follow your sister’s growth path and hang out in that 30th percentile range, which unfortunately means no rolls. Oh well, you’re cute anyway.

You love to sit on my lap and stare at my face. It brings the best little curious and serious eyebrow movements along with it. You study everything you can see and take in everything around you. You hate to fall asleep for fear or missing something. Yet you will snuggle up in a warm blanket, no matter the temperature, and you’ll sleep for hours. You also love to do ugga -mugga kisses with mama and you may as well steal my heart while you’re at it.

A lot has happened in 2020. Your birthday has been the highlight so far; a bright mark on a dark year where it seems the world’s brokenness is consistently being pointed out and made more and more obvious. It is my prayer that you would rise out of the darkness of 2020 to be a man of God that shines as bright as your birth year has been dark. You have certainly made our year better and I can’t wait to see what your roll in God’s story looks like.

Daddy and I love you so much little man, it’s been a wonderful 2 months.

Love, Mama & Daddy

Image Bearers of God

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I want most for my kids and who I hope they become. Image bearers of God and good stewards of all they are given. I want them to love to Jesus. Know Jesus. Be Jesus’ hands and feet to those around them. I want them to be kind to everyone. Love everyone. Celebrate the beauty of all people, as they too are made in the image of God.

It is my prayer that their hearts would seek out the lonesome and be a friend. That they would support the impoverished right up to the shirt on their back. That they would speak up for the oppressed. Defend the meek. Come alongside the weak. I want them to follow God’s lead, wherever that takes them, and be salt and light in their community.

As their mama, I pray that I don’t instill in them anything beyond those desires. That I would be a good steward of their sponge like brains and help them to become all of those things I hope and pray for them. I am humbled to think about the responsibility that is and empowered to know that God is in this journey with me; completely in control and capable of working through and despite of my own shortcomings.

This world feels pretty broken right now. I’m thankful to have a God who cares enough about us to give us a new generation. A generation of warriors for His kingdom. For peace among peoples. A generation who can know better and therefore do better. I’m thankful to know that while a bunch of broken sinners parent that new generation, they can begin to learn more, know better, and do better. I pray that I can be the parent that leads in words and actions. Set an example of godly stewardship over all that has been entrusted to me and generously and graciously love on those around me. I pray I will continue to learn what it means to be the person I hope my kids become. Knowing better and doing better. In love and humility.

Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may ruleover the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky,over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”So God created mankind in his own image,  in the image of God he created them;   male and female he created them. - Genesis 1:26-27

Quarantine, Meltdowns, & Grace Upon Grace

When I started writing (in such a public manner anyway), I was doing it because I had so many thoughts and emotions and the only way that I could get them unjumbled and wrestle with God over them was to literally get them out of my head by putting them on paper. I never could have imagined that three years later I would still have things to process that conversation wouldn’t even touch the surface of. There have been countless journal entries that started as the result of a pure temper tantrum of adult emotions thrown at God. Tears, anger, frustration, you name it, I’ve thrown it at Him. Thankfully He is big and mighty - He can take it. He wants it. What a thought, right? He WANTS me to come to Him with ALL of it. 

I’m struggling. Not with grief over George Mason (though that’s always a part of things). Not even with the sleep-less nights of 7 week old baby/mama relationships. I’m struggling with not having my people. 

When we first left the comfort of the southeast and jumped in our cars to move to Utah, it was, in our minds anyway, temporary. We would only be here for a few years and then back to the east coast we would go. And to sweeten the deal, my parents would be close; so at least we weren’t moving to a complete unknown with none of our people - 9 weeks pregnant with our first baby. Well, 2 years, and then 3 years, and now almost 6 have gone by and here we are… still in Utah. And if I’m being completely honest, that’s something I ask God about daily. {I know so many of y’all are shocked} 

I know that our experiences since we’ve been here haven’t exactly helped me frame a good mindset in and with this place. My head knows that and I remind myself of it constantly. And then I remind myself that God didn’t place us here as a punishment. He brought us here so that we could bloom. So that we could do His work - in whatever form that would take/is taking - in this place. I KNOW it wasn’t an accident that we are here. And yet… well, its hard. 

When I look back, there has always been a reason. Hindsight is wonderful in that respect. It makes me feel foolish for the tantrums I throw when I’m in the height of grief. But even those tantrums have brought me closer to God, and allowed me to feel and understand His grace and comfort even more deeply. So I know that when all of this is behind us, and our people our surrounding our dinner table, or filling our backyard, or piled around the kitchen island, I know that there will have been something I learned; something that drew me closer to God. Something that strengthened my relationship with him. I know that. So why am I so dang pissed off/frustrated/sad about this isolation? Because virtual anything can only go so far. And when community is the one draw that you keep clinging to in a place you have begged to be taken out of, and then its suddenly taken away… well, its hard for me not to struggle. 

I want to hug my people. I want to watch them snuggle my baby. I want to love on their kids and watch Audrey with her friends. I want to throw the biggest of parties and celebrate life and health; particularly the health of this precious baby boy that’s keeping me up at night. I want the community that has loved on and supported our family through all of the rough things that we’ve experienced in Utah. I want my people. And their people. And their people’s people. 

As I sit here and type out all of my frustrations, some that just sort of bubbled up through my fingers, I’m thankful for this space. I’m also feeling a little whiney. And I’m thankful for a God who has grace upon grace for my whining; because as a parent I know how irritating whining is. So I’m going to park my butt in the psalms and praise the God who has sustained me through two of the hardest things I could have ever imagined and has continually brought me back to life when I felt overwhelmed by the emotions that come as a result of this broken world. I’m going to thank Him endlessly for Harry Beau and the joy that he has brought to our family. I’m going to praise Him for giving me the honor of being Audrey Nole’s mama. And I’m going to plead for the day that I can hug all my people to come quickly. 

 "But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit."  The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? Jeremiah 17:7-9

Lord Jesus, let me be the tree planted by the water. And let not my heart be trusted… but let me always trust You.

6 Weeks Old

Ive been missing this journal space lately. Newborn life and it’s ever revolving demands don’t exactly allow for a whole lot of quiet and thoughtful pondering. And let’s be real, if I’ve got time for quiet and thoughtful anything, I’m probably sleeping... because being the sole source of nutrition and comfort for a tiny human is exhausting, though rewarding, and leaves little in the way of me time. Especially since little man isn’t an only child and his big sister saw her entire world turn completely upside down in mid-March. I guess the point is that newborns are hard. And in some ways that’s a really good thing. But in others, it just means we are all surviving around here.

Harry Beau is 6 weeks old today {yesterday}. It’s been a long and trying 6 weeks, too. Not entirely because he’s a hard baby - though that is definitely one of the adjectives I’d use to describe him - but a lot because of what is going on around us. The early weeks of welcoming a baby into your home require so much support. Support that, because of a virus we know little to nothing about, we have not been able to take full advantage of. It’s just the 4 of us, most of the time. Phone calls from family and friends aren’t the same as quiet chats while baby snuggles on my chest and big sister plays with friends. Zoom play dates aren’t the same as preschool in person. Even the outings we expected to be able to take, like playgrounds and zoo trips, have been basically off limits. Covid19, you are quite the beast. 2020, you will go down as one of the worst: Harry excepting.

Even as I type this out, I can hear the sweet little grunts that mean cries are imminent and this quiet moment will be interrupted and picked up eventually. It hasn’t been all bad either, just full. I have been immensely thankful for the distraction of having a newborn. For not really having time to sink deep into the grief of not having our George here with us. I know that there are going to be moments when his absence is unavoidably obvious and the grief can’t be avoided by distraction. I even survived Mother’s Day without too much sorrow hanging over me. Instead, I got to enjoy my kiddos. Plural. And that was pretty amazing. And then, on the very next day, Adam and I had to take one of Audreys very favorite toys away. Parenting. It’s euphoric at times and then in an instant you’re drying up in a desert with no road map or manual on how to navigate the situation. I think for every minute of sleep, I spend two minutes in prayer or conversation with God. Lord lead me through this temper tantrum. Lord let me show as much grace to my kids as you show me. Lord let me show myself grace when I’m not perfect (ok, so always). Lord, let this moment be forever in my memory so that I am acutely and abundantly aware of the joy these kids bring me; Lord I take that back - these kids are monsters. Lord, you know what you’re doing, so it would be great if you filled me in.... Lord, I hope I’m not screwing them up too badly!

..........

As predicted, I’m picking this up over 24 hours later. Trying, slightly unsuccessfully, to place myself back into the mindset that triggered the start of this journal entry. It’s nearly bedtime and I’m closing down my brain for the day. All in all, I’m just thankful for the sweet life that God has added to our tribe. For the joy in the midst of sorrow. For the bright spot on the black blob that has been the start of this new decade. It’s been 6 weeks with little man and I can barely remember what life was like before he joined us. Praise the Lord for those kind of influences on life and details in our story. Happy 6 weeks, Harry Beau. We love you tons!

1 Month Old

Harry Beau,

It’s incredibly hard to wrap my head around the fact that you have been with us for one whole month. It seems that it was just yesterday that they placed you in my chest, but it also feels like forever and a day. You have been such a perfect addition to our family. You fit here in this little tribe of ours.

Your daddy and I agree that you are the spitting image of me as a baby; even more so than Audrey was, which is kind of hard to believe. But no worries, those McGough genes are strong, because you already have so many of your daddy’s mannerisms. If I’m being honest, it’s a little terrifying to think about 3 of your daddy living in this house... so keep my sanity in mind as you get older and more aware. K?

We love your snuggles and your sweet little grunts. You make the most precious little grins when you’re “playing” on your mat. You also have the BEST mad faces and you still resemble Bernard from The Rescuers. I wonder if we will always think that about you??

You have had some troubles with nursing and are keeping mama very busy making sure you’re getting enough of that liquid gold. I’m hoping that you and I can start to spread out those feedings now that we’ve corrected your lip tie. Which you were a total champ for! Despite our troubles, you’re gaining weight and growing like a weed. We’ve already had to sort through your clothes and take out the ones you’ve outgrown. Basically, you’re rocking this life thing and we couldn’t be more excited for what is in store for you!

We have been praying for you for so long, and it feels so good to finally be holding you in our arms and filling our home with all the sounds of newborn life (lots of cries, but worth it. It seems you take a little after your sister in that respect). It’s going to be such an honor to watch you grow up and live out God’s story. We will do our best to encourage and equip you and it is my sincere promise to always be you’re greatest cheerleaders. We love you so deeply, sweet boy.

Happy 1 Month,

Love Mama & Daddy

Two Weeks With Harry Beau

Two weeks with our littlest man and it feels like a blink of an eye and forever all at the same time. It hasn’t been all sunshine and roses, adjusting to life as an earthly family of 4. Big sister has definitely felt the pains of sharing her parents for the first time. And since it’s been 5 years since Adam and I have had a newborn, we are just trying to figure out this new normal - in the context of a very strange temporary normal - doing of life with Harry Beau as member of our tribe. Throw a pandemic in the mix and there’s been a whole lot of togetherness that makes this adjustment period even more complicated.

We are seriously and deeply in love with Harry Beau. Audrey tells me she can’t get enough of him, she loves him so much. It’s absolutely the truth. She is an adoring big sister who often looks and feels more like a second mama than a sissy. That’s part of their story. Their age gap will be part of what shapes their relationship from now until forever. I have so enjoyed watching it unfold over the last couple weeks. If it can bring this much joy to our home in this short time, what a gift it will be to watch it unfold over the years.

Little man is generally a pretty good baby. Thankfully! He has given us his moments (more like very long nights) of reminders that he is, in fact, not even 2 weeks old... but mostly he’s just a snuggle bug with old man grump faces, cheeks for days, and a slight resemblance to Bernard from “The Rescuers.” {don’t worry bud, I mean that with all my love} So far, our experience with him is nothing like it was with his big sister. In many ways I’m so thankful for that. It helps me to remember he is his own person and I don’t immediately draw conclusions about all the ways he might be like George; when I can’t have the same experiences with all three of my children, it somehow feels easier to have the two children be incredibly different.

I was worried about those comparisons. I almost felt sad when we found out that baby 3 was going to be a Harry instead of an Eleanor. The overwhelming thoughts at first were how hard it felt it would be to raise a little boy after not getting to raise a little boy. I’m sure that with each of those milestone firsts my heart will twinge, as we never got to experience those with George. But knowing how unique this boy is and how different from his sister, makes it easier to imagine that my middle child would have been just as unique and different. It will perhaps add a layer of grief that hasn’t yet existed, but the joys we have with Harry won’t be viewed through such a sorrowful lens. For that, I am deeply grateful.

He’s Here!

A week ago today, as the sunlight flooded the delivery room, our sweet little boy was welcomed into this world and was laid on my chest. I will never forget that day. Just like the details from welcoming Audrey and welcoming George, these memories have been eternally written on my heart. There are only a handful of moments like that in a life time; moments where no matter the complexity of the emotions that are tied up in the details, joy overwhelms. It is magical to welcome a baby. It, for a brief moment, makes you forget all the pregnancy aches and pains. You forget the infertility struggles and all the emotional battles that were fought in the process of waiting for that moment. When you see your child for the first time, you hear their little cry, and you are instantly and profoundly in love. In that moment, those seconds, all the anxiety of the world is gone and it’s just you and the tiny human that your body grew.

I didn’t know what to expect when I got to finally lay eyes on this little boy. Would it be joyful with a little sorrow? Would there be tears? Would he look like his brother, and if so, what would my heart do? And in the perfectly laid out plan of my Good Father, none of those things mattered. It was just me and my little boy. And as he laid there on my chest, I reached over to Adam and just smiled. We did it, with all the sustaining grace of our Heavenly Father, we survived a third pregnancy - a pregnancy after the most devastating loss - and our son was here.

One day I will write down all the details of Harry’s birthday and all the emotions that have been swirling around, but for now, I’m just so thrilled to be able to introduce him to the world. Our perfect, almost 8 pound, little man and littlest brother. His sister is over the moon. She has been the best big helper and her adoration for this tiny human is gut wrenchingly wonderful. The day we came home from the hospital, as her and I were sitting on the couch and she was holding Harry, in the most organic way, she began to tell her baby brother about his big brother George. And in that moment, my heart melted. Because instead of intense grief over the little boy that isn’t here, I felt intense joy. I listened to my oldest tell my youngest about our family of 5. Thank you Jesus for that sweet gift on what could have been a very hard day.

Welcome to the world, Harry Beau. You are the perfect addition to our family and you are so very, very loved.

Happy 5th Birthday, Audrey Nole!!

Audrey Nole,

Today you are 5, and in the midst of all the crazy going on in our world at this moment, you are the most excited I have ever seen you to celebrate a new year; and plenty of new adventures. You have been counting down to this day for at least a month. Waking us up on March 1, informing us it was in fact your birthday month. It has been such a pleasure and source of joy to watch you close out your fifth trip around the sun. You have a gift that allows anyone around you to instantly feel more hope, peace, and excitement about the life God has given them.

This year has been a big one. You have become quite the theologian, as you begin to ask questions and connect dots from your Bible stories and worship experiences. You tell the world about Jesus, because he’s pretty cool in your eyes. You sing your way through your days, just like a good Disney princess. You are kind and considerate, and your teachers all tell me what a joy it is to know you. You are a natural born leader, with a flare for the dramatic, and you have never met a stranger. You share the story of your middle brother with an innocence and brevity that catches people off guard, but teaches them a little something about loving someone who is no longer with us.

In this last year, you have learned that you will be a big sister again. We have had lots of talks about what that is going to look like, as well as processing the very possible reality of “what if this one dies too?” You are immensely wise for 5, and have no fear of death. Yet you are aware that sorrow follows death for those that are left behind and do not wish to experience it again so soon. You are already an excellent big sister to both of your brothers and I cannot wait until you meet Harry Beau and get to snuggle him - not too tight, ok? Though these last few weeks and the weeks and months to follow haven’t and won’t look anything like we imagined, I’m so thankful for the ways that you have adapted. You are a constant reminder to your daddy and me that our little family, centered around our Creator, is all that we need to be completely fulfilled. So thank you for holding us to the truths we grown ups often tend to forget. Thank you for being you, designed perfectly by your Heavenly Father for all the plans He has for you. You, my sweet girl, are all kinds of special. I cannot imagine all the things you will face, accomplish, tackle, and experience in this next year or 20, but I know it will be such a gift to me to watch and cheer you on; with a little guidance along the way. And as you continue to remind me, I don’t know anything but God knows everything and He tells me exactly what I need to know to parent you.

This journey with you has been a good one, and daddy and I are looking forward to what is next. For now, I hope you enjoy eating cake all day, watching your favorite movies, and readying our home for the littlest member to come home. Because I for one cannot wait to see your sister job lived out tangibly.

All our love and Happy Birthday,

Mama & Daddy

So Ready to Meet You!

Oh Harry Beau, the stories we will have for you when you’re older. The world is in a strange place these days. People are hunkered down in their homes. Businesses  are closed and unsure of when they will reopen. There are a lot of unknowns and with that comes a lot of fear. But sweet boy, let me assure you of this: Your daddy and I, and your big sister, we are not afraid for you. We have so much hope for your arrival and the plans that God has for you when the world finally gets to say hello to you. Being a child of God, born into His family, is something incredibly special and feels even more important and exciting in this weird time. 

With each passing day, guidelines are changing and people are adapting to protect the health of those around them; those most vulnerable to the reaches of this nasty virus that has become the only newsworthy information in over 150 countries globally. People are adapting to protect you, sweet boy. They are sacrificing things like normal birthday parties, social gatherings, going to work. Some people are even going without a paycheck, because loving on and caring for those most vulnerable has become top priority. Its truly special to see what humankind is capable of doing. I know that your daddy and I will be forever grateful to the people who stayed home to ensure that you could enter this world and be healthy. 

It has been particularly hard for me to see the joy and positives in this situation we are currently facing. I have been so sad to watch all the dreams I had for your arrival and homecoming be quickly turned to metaphorical ashes. I have even found myself whining over the things I expected and thought you (and I) deserved. Its hard not to feel the grief of losing the things I dreamed for you… It takes me right back to the same feelings I had when we learned your big brother wasn’t going to live for very long. In an instant, I lost an entire life’s worth of dreams for him. When the dust settles, I realize that though this grief is hard and real, I will still get to hold you and snuggle you; We will get to know you. Something that I took for granted before I met your brother. Something that I cannot wait to soak up with every moment I have with you. 

You are entering this world in just a matter of days and the reality of that is so VERY exciting. Its not going to look very much like the birth I had hoped for (and rejoiced over), but in the end your daddy and I are going to meet you and welcome you into our family with arms so wide open - and then squeezed so tight around you - that all the details won’t even matter. We will share pictures of you with your sister until we can get home to see her. We will announce your arrival via technology and we will celebrate with all the people that have prayed over you from a distance. At some point, life will return to a normal that we recognize, and when that moment comes, you better be ready for a whole bunch of hugs and kisses. Because, Harry Beau, you have been long awaited, deeply loved, and immensely covered in prayer since even before God gifted you to us. And if I could put into words just how excited your big sister is to meet you, I would. But that would be impossible. Her joy in this waiting is such a gift from our Good Father and such an important reminder of just how joyful it really is to welcome new life into this world! Pandemic be damned, there is a celebration to be had!

We love you so dearly already, sweet boy. Cannot wait to meet you! 

All our love - Mama & Daddy & Big Sister, Audrey Nole

Grief But Not Fear

For the last week, or really even longer, I have been at a loss for words regarding all of the ways our lives are being impacted and things are changing. Every time I tried to journal and process, it just felt overwhelming. Not in a fear filled way, but in a mourning of the could have been/should have been expectations of bringing home a healthy baby. I know that everyone around us has had a lot of time to think and stress and worry. The added trigger of SLC’s largest earthquake in a generation didn’t help the overdrive of all the feelings. 

All that being said, one of the things that has hit me the hardest is watching Audrey Nole play alone. Its not abnormal for her to make believe all on her own, only sometimes bringing specific roles to Adam or myself as she acts out her story. We are used to solo play at this house. Its all she’s ever known. But as I watch my daughter play, hour after hour, with herself and her toys, I’m finding that the absence of our middle son is stark and painful. Audrey is so excited about having Harry home with us, and I really don’t think she’s aware enough to know that having George here during this weird time of isolation would be so much more fun, but it hurts my heart. 

Its not new to miss him. That’s an almost constant tug at my mama heart. But what is new, is to have such an obvious picture of our missing family member. As Adam plays mean dragon for the 100th time or I talk princesses yet again. This morning we sat in our living room while Audrey told “jokes” and then directed us to laugh as she delivered (or didn’t deliver) the punch line. She would say something like “The teacup is upside down… ok guys, laugh!” If her brother were here, he would just laugh. Siblings get each other. They have a bond like nothing else on this planet. She wouldn’t have to direct her daddy and me when to laugh and just how funny it was… she would have her brother to instantly cry in laughter over the joke that makes absolutely no sense.

I think that as each year passes I will have different things to miss about George, most specifically the dynamics of his relationship with his big sister. Its a lot different to think about a sick 1 year old and his big 3 year old sister than it is to think about a healthy 3 year old and his big 5 year old sister. And the thought of a 3 & 5 year old having adventures all through our house brings both immense joy and intense pain. It also reminds me that the shenanigans of Audrey Nole and Harry Beau won’t be the same as they would have/could have been if George were here to bridge the gap. 

As our world continues to shut down and things close, I’m sad for my daughter. I miss my son, deeply, and it breaks my heart to know that her various social outlets and sources of encouragement and fuel (she’s a very social little lady) have been brought to the absolute minimum; especially given her lack of living siblings. I know that we have hope in a great God whose hand is all over this, and I know that we have nothing to fear as we are His children. But knowing those things doesn’t remove the grief of experiencing the ways this world is broken and the various ways that humans all over the planet are having to adjust and adapt to this new, and hopefully temporary, normal. 

I’m sure that when all of this is over, there will be a profound level of gratitude among all of the earth’s people. Gratitude for the opportunity to rest, to hold tight(er) to our families, and to find ways that we can be kind and generous in the unprecedented times of social distancing and quarantine. We are all uniquely in this together and it has been pretty wonderful to watch the generosity of our neighbors near and far as we cope with a pandemic. And an earthquake. And the long awaited delivery of our newest McGough man. So as I wait, in the area of uncertainty and lack of control, I am reminded to draw on the words of my Savior that have been written for all the people and have been hidden on my heart over the length of my relationship with Him. I will not fear, but I will have to let myself grieve. I will not fear, but I will yell at God and tell him how much I hate this; He’s big and strong and mighty. And that’s the very best news I can get on any given day. 

“The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” - Zephaniah 3:17

Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash