welcome

As I reflect on life as a dad my hope is that somehow through my life that others might catch a glimpse of the fatherly love of the One that I seek to reflect.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

New Life

This post is long over due. It tells of what Stacy and I experienced last November. Please read it. It's impacted our lives immensely and our hope is that it would touch others too. 

We were six and a half weeks pregnant when the bleeding started. Thanksgiving was only a week and a half a way. We were waiting till then to tell our families in person that we were expecting number three. It had already been a rough week of sickness, sleepless nights, and stress. The sense that our family was being attacked spiritually was very real. And in the midst of this battle, this storm that we were in, came the realization that the smallest and most vulnerable of our family was in trouble. We cried out to God for help and protection, praying and hoping that the bleeding would not be enough to end the pregnancy. We shared what was happening with some close friends from our church who prayed for us and offered their love and support. We felt strengthened and loved, but we were still broken inside.

The bleeding became heavier and the hope that we would be able to know and love this child here on earth faded away. We mourned and we cried. We knew that our child was in God’s hands. We knew that God was in control, but it still hurt. It was hard. We never before experienced such pain of loss before as a couple. I struggled inside, because I couldn’t lift Stacy up. I couldn’t make it all better for her. In my attempt to “cope” I tried with all my strength to function normally. But, that just made things worse. Our communication deteriorated and as a couple we began to feel very disconnected.

Less than one week after Stacy miscarried, she had a migraine. We were spending the evening with friends, working on getting a new church building ready for the first Sunday service. Some people offered to pray for Stacy’s migraine, she accepted. While she was receiving prayer, our pastor, Wade, pulled me aside and asked me “how I was doing?” I told him, “not good.” And began to explain to him how I was struggling to cope and the toll it was taking on our marriage. He counseled me and told me that it was okay for Stacy and me to just be broken together. I needed to hear that. I needed that permission. I felt like it was up to me to hold our family together through this. I had to face the reality that I was in no position to do that. I was broken too. Thankfully, there was someone greater than me already at work binding up our wounded hearts.

The rest of the story Stacy needs to tell in her own words . . .

While they prayed for my head, my mind was elsewhere. I was seeking something, anything ab
out the miscarriage. Suddenly, I had a vision from God.

I was sitting on a bench, slumped over, feeling down. Jesus appeared in front of me, slightly larger than life size, dressed in simple white cloth. He got down on one knee in front of me, with a soft gentle look on His face. He received from me a full term healthy baby, also wrapped in white, and began to stand, as though to take this baby with Him.

At this point, I began sobbing. I was immediately confused. Where did this baby come from? I did not hand Jesus my baby; in fact, I never had the opportunity to hold my baby in my arms. Then it made sense. The baby I had to offer was one that I held only in my womb, not my arms. But the baby Jesus accepted was restored, made full and complete and healthy. God gave me this image so that I could begin to understand that our baby does live in Heaven. It is easier for me to imagine a healthy full term baby surviving on his own in Heaven than the tiny baby that we lost.

I have revisited this image a thousand times since I saw it, and have shared it with Levi. He has begun to make a sketch, so that he too can see it, and we can keep this image in physical form. I have gained so much comfort, knowing that our baby was delivered to Heaven in the arms of Jesus, and has been restored to health. This baby will never know the pains and trials of this world, and is waiting for us in Heaven.

God is real, and wanting to be close to us. He is our comfort. This vision has changed my relationship with Him. And through this comfort from our Father, my relationship with Levi has come back to life. We are no longer focusing on our loss. Instead, our focus is on our Wonderful God, our gift waiting for us in Heaven, and how we can share this experience with others to offer encouragement. We praise God for this hope He has given us, and pray that He will bless us with more children in the future.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Saturday, August 9, 2008

light

I made this little video awhile ago using Windows Movie Maker. Most of the pictures are from Door County, WI. The song is a David Crowder tune. My prayer is that people would see the light and not run from it.


Thursday, August 7, 2008

Why is the sky blue?

I recently had it explained to me that when the white light that is emitted from the sun hits water droplets in the atmosphere, it refracts, and out of the full spectrum of light that results blue is the highest frequency of light that our eyes can see. This explanation scientifically made sense to me. It is what I learned in school, way back when. However, when I asked Noah why he thought the sky is blue, his answer impressed me much more than anything found in a text book. He told me that blue is his favorite color and that God made the sky blue just for him.
"The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky above proclaims his handiwork."

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

a poem of mine

I wrote this poem a couple years ago for a Systematic Theology course. I dusted it off recently and thought I'd share it with you all. Its on the topic of God's omniscience, His all-knowing, all-seeing attribute. Enjoy.

You See

You see.
You see me.

You see me, 17.
On the park bench in the still of the night
Crying out to you.
Asking for strength
To fight the dark things inside.

You see me, 19.
On my knees
Surrounded by turning trees
And falling leaves,
Turning from me,
Falling on you.

You see the propped up ego
The self I still cling to.
The foundation,
The façade,
That is crumbling
Under the weight of your reality.

You see my thoughts,
The thoughts that I thought
I could get away with thinking.

You see.
You see me.
The me that I want to be,
Not the me that I was,
But the me that you created me to be.

You see.
You see me.
Through the blood
Of the one who set me free.
Thank God,
I am free!