Letter to Makadoo

Makadoo,
 I'm sorry that some days I try to forget you. That the only memories I dream up are those awful ones after the accident. That I get sucked into my "Me" world and wonder why my life had to be this way. I'm sorry I took you downstairs instead of just getting you dressed, and that I didn't call down sooner to ask Daddy to bring you up. I'm sorry I didn't start CPR sooner - I should of known. I'm sorry I went back to work - and didn't sacrifice more and stay at home with you and Chey - if I would of we wouldn't of had the money to try and take you to the zoo that morning. I'm also sorry you didnt get to see your monkey's that day.
I miss your laugh and your smile that your nose would wrinkle up. I miss those screams when you were excited. I miss how methodically you would exam new items, and how you would just take in new experiences. I miss how you could bring smiles to SO many peoples faces. I miss those noises you made when you drank a bottle, and how you would fight me so you could hold the bottle yourself. I miss you plopping that thumb into your mouth whenever you got sleepy and falling asleep wherever you saw fit. I miss you being in my belly - I miss your smell. I miss how you would pull off your socks and stick em in your mouth at your first opportunity. I miss watching you chew on dog bones. I'll miss you the rest of my life.
Thank you, for bringing me back to Jesus.  For showing me the depth of happiness and the depth of sadness. Thank you for showing me that patience is truly a virtue - I'm trying. Thank you for sharing your smiles with me. Thank you for letting me comfort you when you cried, feed you when you were hungry, dress you in cute clothes, and put pippy tails in your hair. Thanks for reaching for me when you needed to be held, and understanding a word to be patient when i couldn't get yah right away.  Thank you for bringing together some of the most wonderful friends I could EVER ask for. Thank you for all the things I think you did, but I cannot say aloud.
I've never bargained to have you back, not sure why. Guess I can be too rational at times. I struggle to keep my faith - and wonder so much where you are. I'm always lead back to the idea you're in heaven. I feel little phantom baby kicks in my guts a lot - a lot since you left. Sometimes I wonder if the last 2 years were a dream and you're really just beginning to grow in my belly - I would do anything to protect you. Sometimes I feel like I failed you, that I should of been stronger earlier. Just know Im not going to make the same mistakes twice, not anymore baby girl.
You've taught me so much about life and about death. About how hate isn't worth it and what love truly means. God made big things come through you, I am blessed in so many ways. I love you my Makadoo, I miss you so.
Love
Mommy

My vine, it has worms.

So, you remember Sunday School - and good ole Jonah. The guy that got swallowed up by the whale? Then vomited up on the shore? You know how he got there? Well he disobeyed God - he was supposed to go to Niniveh and tell the guys there to pull their heads out, to straighten up. He was scared to go and bailed, got on a boat, tried to hide from God, got kicked off the boat, swallowed by a fish, thrown up on the sand. THEN TO JUST  go to the place God told him to in the first place!  THEN he got to watch the city prosper as he sweated his butt off on the edge of town. It's Jonah and God's discussion there, on the edge of town that keeps creeping up into my head - you see it's hot, and being God is a giving God - so he grows a vine to shelter Jonah, then he gives him a WORM to kill the vine. It makes Jonah mad, he tells God he wants to die, God says no deal  - there are bigger things to fix. WHAT THE HECK.
So here I am, a whirlwind of a year, sitting out on the edge of town, enjoying my vine when BAM a worm eats another one. Im watching good things happen all around me, and I keep having these vines shrivel up just when the sweat starts to dry. Well, here I am God. Once again you have my attention - i'm trying to listen and trying not to be scared to be where you need me to be. BUT IT"S SCARY DOWN HERE! I know pain and struggles are part of this walk, and maybe it's easier to endure knowing the promise at the end - but the worms - they suck, the shade is nice.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Life is good. God is Great.

Casting my net....

            After Jesus rose from the dead he appeared to a number of people.  In particularly a group of fishermen who weren't catching fish - anonymously from the shore he called to them to put their net on the other side of the boat, they did - and their net was filled. It was then they looked back to the shore and saw it was Jesus, one man named Peter - (who had doubted Jesus countless times) jumped into the water and swam to Jesus, while the other fishermen rowed the boat to shore. Why is it, in desperation we will listen to the stranger on the shore? Why is it, that it takes a miracle or a hardship to remember the guidance and love that is offered by Jesus? Why is it that the ones who doubt the most - swim the fastest to that person on the shore - when their nets are full? Would peter of looked back had his net come up empty? What if it was only half full?
           If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got. I've also heard that the definition of insanity is repeating the same action and expecting to get different results. Yet, I stay in my same old - expecting different results. I don't want to be there, and I'm listening for that voice on the shore to tell me that maybe, my net does belong on the other side of the boat. I've experienced the empty net, I've held in my grips a net full of fish, I've watched a load be ripped from my hands and carried out to sea. But I've never contemplated why - or why not those fish were there - not until I realized that with them I would be satisfied and without them I would hunger.
        I count on small miracles - from the moment I dropped to my knees, that terrible February morning I have been able to see them more clearly. It was truly miraculous that I was given the strength to stand back up, the opportunity to kiss my baby my last "I love yous," to being able to walk out of the hospital, to getting out of bed that next morning, to picking out a hot pink urn, to finding my voice to put her social security number on a death certificate. My fish weren't  breaking the net those days, but it was enough to live off. My net was on the right side, I gave it up to God and he provided exactly what I needed. From my own personal abilities to function, to the friends, family and clergy that functioned for me when I couldn't find my way. 
Now today, that my steps are stronger and my head is clearer I keep casting my net on the wrong side, pulling up empty, and not listening to the voice from the shore. Pulling up a net is a lot of work, and my shoulders are tired. This side of the boat has gotten awful familiar and this is where I am comfortable. Also, let's face it I'm pretty stubborn and sometimes fail to acknowledge that my way might not be the best!
So today, I'm gathering strength to pull my net - to face the fears of the other side of the boat and recast in better waters. I don't think this side will be free of hardships and trials, in fact I welcome them. I've been blessed with grace that is unmeasurable because of my struggles and have never felt closer to God. Yes, I pray that my net will be filled, I pray that I've heard his voice clearly, and I pray that I never forget to listen to that voice from the shore - or fail to see that it is in fact Jesus leading me to right where I'm supposed to be.