Monday, April 8, 2019

A Faithful Father

On April 7th, 2010 our lives forever changed.

I was driving to pick up our son Sam, who was just seven, from baseball practice.  Daniel was three months old at this time.  On the way to pick Sam up, he started to cry.  Up to this point in his life, I am not sure he had ever been left to cry for more than a few seconds before someone had picked him up.  On this particular night, he had to "cry it out" as we took the short drive to pick up Sam.

Babies should be able to cry.

I talked to him the whole way to the field, telling him I would feed him as soon as we got there. Abby was two years old and was babbling to him too.   I noticed as we were driving that his cry had changed.  I thought he was just getting sleepy.  I was wrong.  When I parked and opened the sliding van door, there was my precious baby boy blue as a blueberry in his car seat.  He was blue and lifeless.

I quickly got him out of his car seat thinking he may have spit up and aspirated as we were driving.  So I turned him over to pat his back, but as I did his whole body fell forward, limp as a noodle.  I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 911 all the while thinking about the scene that was about to be made.

When the ambulance arrived, they immediately hooked him to oxygen.  The coaches wife (whom I had not yet met) was already in my van telling me she had my other kids. Brent was 40 miles away at the pharmacy he was working at that night.  Even with the oxygen, Daniel stayed a blueish-grey tint the entire ride to the hospital and the EMT's were somber and quiet while working.

I prayed.  As we drove down the stretch of road to arrive at Children's Hospital, I imagined the spiritual battle happening for Daniel's life.  The initial doctors that saw Daniel told me they did not expect him to survive the night.  They also told me that if he did, he would probably have severe brain damage due to the lack of oxygen he experienced.

Again, babies should be able to cry without dying.

We know now, that Daniel had his first PH crisis.  Thankfully both of the initial things I was told did not come true.  Daniel did survive that night and he did not have permanent brain damage.  We would stay another 35 days at Children's Hospital and learn that Daniel had an extremely rare disease called idiopathic primary pulmonary hypertension.  This would become the first of many hospital stays, ambulance rides, helicopter rides and emergencies.

Every year after this initial crisis, our family has celebrated Daniel's life on April 7th.  We have bought a rainbow cake, presents for ALL the kids (because they are the best big brothers and sisters ever) and usually had some sort of dance party per Daniel's request.  When Daniel died on April 1, 2016, Brent and I knew that his funeral/celebration of life would be on April 7th.  God and His sovereignty are undeniable themes in Daniel's short life.

One day I plan to write out his whole story, but today I want to share about this April 7th.

Rainbows have also been a theme through Daniel's life.  If you have read this blog, followed Daniel's caringbridge (https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/danieljames/journal)  or spent any time with us you know how rainbows have been something the Lord has given us in the most difficult of times.  Today was no exception.

Yesterday was April 7th.  Our kids all had a variety of activities.  Brent and I have talked a lot about how as years go forward we are going to have to be more flexible as far as when we get to celebrate events like this as a family.   The first anniversary after his death, we started a tradition of releasing balloons at his grave.  We knew with the schedule this year that yesterday would have been rushed, so instead we planned for the balloon release today.

Yesterday we still celebrated with a rainbow cake, sunflower cookies and Abby made a beautiful canvas of Daniel.  We all shared a favorite memory or two...we have a million...and then ate cake together before we went separate ways for the rest of the day.





Today we picked up our rainbow balloons and struggled in the wind to get them all cut and held tightly for our release.  Before we started struggling with the balloons, we gathered around his grave with beautiful new flowers and prayed.



I thanked God that Daniel's life fulfilled what God wants for all of us.  To bring Him glory.  I prayed that despite the pain and suffering, I am thankful for the example that Daniel was to us of perseverance.  I thanked God for Daniel's love for Jesus.  I thanked Him for how he shared about the "boo-boo's" Jesus took and how he often spontaneously praised the Lord.  I thanked the Lord that even all of Daniel's favorite songs were about the hope he had of a future.  "Home" by Philip Phillips was the only one that didn't speak specific about Jesus, but was one of Daniel's last words and is the place he is now.  Home.  I thanked God that the words we were about to play of "My Beloved", (Daniel's favorite song when he died) have totally come true in his life. Then through tears I asked the Lord if he could just let Daniel know we were letting all these balloons go for him.

Cue balloon struggle! :)

"My Beloved" playing we all lined up with our balloons.  Brent was recording (with his phone...so I do not have that here)...and we let the 72 rainbow colored balloons go.  Every year I want more, but the kids said we need more people to do more.



We watched.





And then I saw it.  We were so focused on watching the balloons that none of us noticed it at first.  When I saw it I squealed.  A  real squeal.  And then burst into tears.

A rainbow.  







Again and again and again a rainbow. As I look back at the other photos, it was there when we released the balloons I just didn't notice it until after.  Although it seemed to get brighter after.

It never ceases to completely amaze me.  Moments like these His grace is so overwhelming.  And I am so thankful.  I am thankful for HOPE.  You see, the part of the story of today I did not yet share is how our family kind of started to unravel before we got to Daniel's grave.  Little irritations, impatience...they often start to spread like wildfire on these days and anniversaries.  So today, before we had prayed graveside, I had gathered my family around Daniel's grave and reminded them that we have an enemy.  An enemy who hates that even in death we are here to celebrate and praise our King Jesus because of the HOPE we have in Him.  He hates the light.  He hates that Jesus is even bigger than death and that we believe this to be true.  He hates that we are here with our hearts filled with hope.  Think about this I said, be kind to one another.  Build each other up and extend the grace to each other we all so desperately need.  Do not the let enemy tear our family apart.

Part of Brent's prayer had been about us "continuing to march on"...a rainbow at the end of this time spent together was a huge encouragement to our hurting hearts...a huge encouragement to "march on".   And a huge moment that brought our family closer.  I pray my kids will not forget the faithfulness of our Father.

Thank you Jesus for the hope we have in you.

I love you Daniel!  I hope you got to see the balloons.  If you had been with us, I can hear you laughing as they filled the sky.

"I will praise you, LORD, with all my heart; I will tell of all the marvelous things you have done." Psalm 9:1

Monday, April 1, 2019

Just Be Held

Today marks the 3rd Anniversary of Daniel's Home-going.

I still have a hard time comprehending how "home" was a new word for Daniel. I also have a hard time comprehending how the Crowder CD that he loved so much at this time held the words that God would use to tell me Daniel was indeed, Home. His ways are so much higher than ours.

We played the "Steeple Outro" at the beginning of Daniel's Celebration of Life.  These are the words that played through my mind as I stared at my reflection in my bathroom mirror after receiving back to back phone calls from Children's Hospital.  They called to tell me they were doing chest compressions.  Two minutes later the same nurse practitioner called back and said "No...we are doing chest compressions!"

"Yes." I said. "I know."

On the heels of the week we had since Daniel's return from surgery, I knew what this meant.  Two days prior Daniel had arrested while I was getting a sandwich for Brent.  The nurse practitioner had not called me, Brent had.  I knew if they were calling that it had been going on for a long while and there was a reason Brent could not call.

At this time, I was at least 1.5 hours from Daniel.  I was at home, by the doctors request.  He needed me rested for the days to come.  When they called the second time, it was 7:32am and the 25 mile stretch of the Dallas North Tollway is no one's friend at this time.  As I washed my face, everything seemed in slow motion and I wondered what I was supposed to do, then the words of Crowder's "Steeple Outro" played through my mind ...

"My heart was weary,
My soul was heavy,
My bones were aching Lord.
I needed waking,
I needed breaking,
I needed you my Lord.
And you took my hand 
Led me to the river,
And buried all I was.
Then you kissed my face,
And told me I was Yours,
And I knew I'd found my 

HOME."


As soon as I heard the word Home in my mind, I knew he had died.

His official time of death was 7:45am.  I am certain this is when I heard those words.  I grabbed my speaker, headed to my front step, played the next song on the Neon Steeple album, "All This Glory", and lifted my hands to heaven joining the angels in welcoming my son Home.

I often wonder if the Lord let him see me singing, arms stretched out to heaven.

Oh Daniel!  I miss you so, but I am so happy for you.  So happy.  I just miss you. BIG.

Today was the fourth April 1st that I went to my front step at 7:45am, lifted my hands to heaven,  and sang "All This Glory".  The only difference from the first April 1st is that since the summer of 2016 there is now a Memorial tree given in honor of Daniel's life that forever marks this spot. A tree that could have been planted anywhere in the 117 acre park.  God, in His sovereignty, had it planted right across the street from our home, perfectly centered with our street.

As I finished singing and watching the video I had made to "All This Glory" for Daniel's Celebration of Life, (https://youtu.be/vHfrLMitExU) I looked at the sky that had been mostly dark, and saw the beautiful sun beaming through the dark clouds directly behind Daniel's tree.



As I stood and watched it became more glorious...


Until it looked as though God had a spotlight shining on Daniel's tree.



"Light broke in
Coming like a Son
All this glory...
Jesus Christ has come, and love has won"

If Daniel could have said something to me in the moments following his departure from earth to heaven, I am certain they would have been "Oh mom, ALL THIS GLORY" and "IT'S JESUS!! JESUS!"

"In Him (Jesus) was life, and the life was the Light of men.  The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not comprehend it."  John 1:4-5

Thank you Lord for the tangible ways you love me.  This morning felt like a hug from heaven.

This evening I have been listening to "Just Be Held" by Casting Crowns on repeat.  My bones ache, my soul is heavy, I am weary, but Jesus invites me to be held. I don't have to be strong.  He is my strength.

"Come to Me (Jesus), all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and YOU WILL FIND REST FOR YOUR SOULS."  Matthew 11:28-29



"If your eyes are on the storm
You'll wonder if I love you still,
But if your eyes are on the cross
You know I always have and I always will.

And not a tear is wasted
In time, you'll understand
I'm painting beauty with the ashes
Your life is in my hands...

Just be held."

Thank you Lord for holding me.  The weight of missing and grief is more than I can bear.  Thank you for the hope I have in you.  A hope that will not disappoint.  I love you.  I trust you.  Please say "hi" to Daniel.  Let him know how much I miss him and how thankful I am for his precious life.  Thank you Lord that you never leave or forsake us.  Thank you for your never ending love and faithfulness.  Thank you for saving me 17 years ago.  Thank you Jesus for washing my sins as white as snow.  I look forward to the day where there will be no more death or sorrow or pain.  All of that will be gone forever.  Until then, may your grace be sufficient for each day.  Make Daniel's life count for eternity.  May many come to know you, Jesus, because of the way your hand was on Daniel's life from beginning to the end and even still now.  In Jesus name, Amen.

"I heard a loud shout from the throne saying, 'Look, God's home is now among his people!  He will live with them, and they will be His people.  God Himself will be with them.  He will wipe every tear from their eyes and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain.  All these things are gone forever." Revelation 21:3-4

Oh Glorious Day!

One day closer.