[big sigh]
In many ways this weekend was good. Bucketloads of bright sunshine can sear through dingy, gray clouds like nothing else, both literally and figuratively. Chad helped Jordan Sheetrock 90 percent of Jordan & Lacie's basement. Ran errands for Dad. Mowed for Mom. Wedding shower for a cousin. It's feels good doing stuff for others, seeing the progress that giving makes.
Normal still feels numb, though, almost as if we're "playing normal." Sunshine's underbelly hangs shadows on us, a cooler version of what pours upon the rest of the world. And no matter how you try to distract yourself, reminders pop up like dandelions. The living room window at Jordan & Lacie's new home perfectly frames the neighbors' two very young children riding bicycles. Another neighbor has a brand new baby. Kyrie's soft-bite baby spoons are still in the silverware drawer. An end cap in Target displays glittery, girly Mary Janes. Oh, the list goes on and on.
There's a Johnny Cash lyric that sings, "I taught the weeping willow how to cry," and it seems as if we're all experts now on liquid pain. Drop by drop, I'm sure Jordan and Lacie could water Kyrie's flower garden with the tears they've shed. Weeping is the only self-producing release valve that I know of for the pressure sorrow causes. It builds and builds, starting with the ache in your gut or the golf ball in your throat. You feel it rise into your lower jaw as you try to bite your lip. The stinging in your nose and burning behind your eyes signal your broken heart to pump pain from itself, through your blinking eyes, spilling down your cheeks and onto your steering wheel or your pillow or your desk or your lap or your spouse's shoulder. Maybe it's a quiet, shaking cry. Or maybe it's a guttural, sobbing cry that knocks the wind out of you. For this kind of sorrow, the sorrow that the entire world says is the worst to experience, one bout of crying may subside, but another undoubtedly is on its way.
As much as we don't want to keep waking up when we're enduring long-term pain, we do; we keep waking up. Amazing, isn't it? We keep waking up, we keep breathing, even though we think it would feel better not to.
In my opinion, suffering's only peace offering is grace, a gift hard won and often gladly exchanged for never having been pained at all. This grace is what allows others who have greatly suffered to enter that sunny world again. It's what raises their arms to hug someone who has just begun suffering. And as I see it, the only way to arrive at some sort of peace or grace is to barrel through. There is no shortcut or detour. Maybe this means crying 100 times a day if you have to or shouting Kyrie's name into the sky or shoveling up your yard or avoiding children for awhile or keeping her photo in your pocket or talking aloud to her or even yelling your prayers to God. The good, bad, ugly and holy. Whatever gets you through today, one day closer to her heaven.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Long Weekend
Chad and I are motoring to Wichita today for a long weekend with the fam. Jordan & Lacie have worked on Kyrie's flower garden in their yard, plum full of pink flowering plants. Dad is working on his wall shrine for Kyrie. Chad is legitimizing some Kyrie-inspired ideas that I had hoped to share this week, but next week looks more realistic. I, too, have been working on some Kyrieness of my own, and it sounds like many of you are as well. Love all the walk ideas! Yes, yes!
Erin wrote something in her comment this week that has been echoing in my ears ever since I read it: Go, Kyrie, go. And so many of you have said that she's made you change your behavior in little ways, more appreciative ways. So I was thinking about all the little things I could do today that would honor a child, this child, your child. Came up with 100. And it's not BIG things that, honestly, we should probably be doing, too, like adopting crack babies and joining the Peace Corps and ending pollution. Just ordinary decisions that culminate into extraordinary goodness.
Oh! And since today is a Thankful Thursday, my itty, bitty thing for which I'm thankful is the color pink.
1. Hug.
2. Use your turn signal.
3. Grow flowers.
4. Pick up trash.
5. Go for quality not quantity.
6. Read.
7. Read aloud.
8. Pick a charity & donate consistently.
9. Pick a charity & volunteer consistently.
10. Take lunch to a friend.
11. Send a letter.
12. If you can sing, sing.
13. If you can organize, organize.
14. If you can paint, paint.
15. If you can care, care.
16. If you can encourage, encourage.
17. If you can build, build.
18. Take photos and give them to your subjects.
19. Extinguish blight.
20. Wave to your neighbors.
21. Stop gossip.
22. Take extra flowers to a nursing home.
23. Organize a clean-up effort.
24. Buy local.
25. Ignore yucky “entertainment.”
26. Learn a craft.
27. Teach a craft.
28. Memorize and pass on your favorite poem.
29. Memorize and pass on your favorite psalm or proverb.
30. Take your car to youth car washes.
31. Buy something at a bake sale and take it to someone lonely.
32. Plant trees.
33. Remember that someone’s birthday.
34. Share your garden’s produce.
35. Visit.
36. Look for a child in need to whom you can give your child’s clothing.
37. Hold the door open.
38. Make a new friend.
39. Smile.
40. Let a car into your lane.
41. Rescue a mutt rather than buy a pedigree.
42. Eat dinner together at the table.
43. Laugh out loud.
44. Examine your “latte factor” and decide where that money could be better spent.
45. Comfort the sad.
46. Encourage the disheartened.
47. Conserve.
48. Hire an adult with a developmental disability.
49. Donate blood.
50. Get & use your library card.
51. Become a “block parent.”
52. Donate coloring books to hospitals.
53. Shovel snow or mow the lawn for an elderly neighbor.
54. Mentor.
55. Recycle.
56. Attend high school theater productions.
57. Cook a homemade meal for your family.
58. Teach your children to cook your favorite recipe.
59. Pick & master a new hobby.
60. Teach your hobby to children or to the community.
61. Give a “thank you wave” when someone lets you into their driving lane.
62. When it comes to stuff, remember that less is more.
63. Notice.
64. If you’re feeling bad about your behavior, apologize.
65. Use your manners, i.e. please, thank you, excuse me, etc.
66. Listen.
67. Listen to another perspective.
68. Listen to musical virtuosos.
69. Thank a farmer.
70. Thank a custodian.
71. Thank your parents.
72. Thank God.
73. Get interested in something that’s meaningful to you and good for others.
74. Drive slower through school and construction zones.
75. Have patience when driving slower through school and construction zones.
76. Don’t assume the worst about someone.
77. Give another family a Thanksgiving meal.
78. Be a Christmas angel to those in need, even it means having less for yourself.
79. Discuss the bible.
80. Choose to work with joy.
81. Assume nothing about another’s character by his or her clothing or hairstyle.
82. Bless a sneezer.
83. Make yourself feel someone else’s pain.
84. Prepare.
85. Choose one day of the week that’s TV free in your home.
86. Accept gratefully, even if it’s less than you expected.
87. Be careful with your words.
88. Take 10 minutes to think about someone else’s life.
89. Recognize and nix manipulation and corruption.
90. Walk for those who can’t.
91. Pray.
92. Don’t jump to conclusions.
93. Research and appreciate your ancestors.
94. Allow another’s path to be different from yours.
95. Right a wrong.
96. Picnic.
97. Go fishing.
98. Appreciate.
99. Be authentic.
100. Do a good work without expecting anything in return.
Erin wrote something in her comment this week that has been echoing in my ears ever since I read it: Go, Kyrie, go. And so many of you have said that she's made you change your behavior in little ways, more appreciative ways. So I was thinking about all the little things I could do today that would honor a child, this child, your child. Came up with 100. And it's not BIG things that, honestly, we should probably be doing, too, like adopting crack babies and joining the Peace Corps and ending pollution. Just ordinary decisions that culminate into extraordinary goodness.
Oh! And since today is a Thankful Thursday, my itty, bitty thing for which I'm thankful is the color pink.
1. Hug.
2. Use your turn signal.
3. Grow flowers.
4. Pick up trash.
5. Go for quality not quantity.
6. Read.
7. Read aloud.
8. Pick a charity & donate consistently.
9. Pick a charity & volunteer consistently.
10. Take lunch to a friend.
11. Send a letter.
12. If you can sing, sing.
13. If you can organize, organize.
14. If you can paint, paint.
15. If you can care, care.
16. If you can encourage, encourage.
17. If you can build, build.
18. Take photos and give them to your subjects.
19. Extinguish blight.
20. Wave to your neighbors.
21. Stop gossip.
22. Take extra flowers to a nursing home.
23. Organize a clean-up effort.
24. Buy local.
25. Ignore yucky “entertainment.”
26. Learn a craft.
27. Teach a craft.
28. Memorize and pass on your favorite poem.
29. Memorize and pass on your favorite psalm or proverb.
30. Take your car to youth car washes.
31. Buy something at a bake sale and take it to someone lonely.
32. Plant trees.
33. Remember that someone’s birthday.
34. Share your garden’s produce.
35. Visit.
36. Look for a child in need to whom you can give your child’s clothing.
37. Hold the door open.
38. Make a new friend.
39. Smile.
40. Let a car into your lane.
41. Rescue a mutt rather than buy a pedigree.
42. Eat dinner together at the table.
43. Laugh out loud.
44. Examine your “latte factor” and decide where that money could be better spent.
45. Comfort the sad.
46. Encourage the disheartened.
47. Conserve.
48. Hire an adult with a developmental disability.
49. Donate blood.
50. Get & use your library card.
51. Become a “block parent.”
52. Donate coloring books to hospitals.
53. Shovel snow or mow the lawn for an elderly neighbor.
54. Mentor.
55. Recycle.
56. Attend high school theater productions.
57. Cook a homemade meal for your family.
58. Teach your children to cook your favorite recipe.
59. Pick & master a new hobby.
60. Teach your hobby to children or to the community.
61. Give a “thank you wave” when someone lets you into their driving lane.
62. When it comes to stuff, remember that less is more.
63. Notice.
64. If you’re feeling bad about your behavior, apologize.
65. Use your manners, i.e. please, thank you, excuse me, etc.
66. Listen.
67. Listen to another perspective.
68. Listen to musical virtuosos.
69. Thank a farmer.
70. Thank a custodian.
71. Thank your parents.
72. Thank God.
73. Get interested in something that’s meaningful to you and good for others.
74. Drive slower through school and construction zones.
75. Have patience when driving slower through school and construction zones.
76. Don’t assume the worst about someone.
77. Give another family a Thanksgiving meal.
78. Be a Christmas angel to those in need, even it means having less for yourself.
79. Discuss the bible.
80. Choose to work with joy.
81. Assume nothing about another’s character by his or her clothing or hairstyle.
82. Bless a sneezer.
83. Make yourself feel someone else’s pain.
84. Prepare.
85. Choose one day of the week that’s TV free in your home.
86. Accept gratefully, even if it’s less than you expected.
87. Be careful with your words.
88. Take 10 minutes to think about someone else’s life.
89. Recognize and nix manipulation and corruption.
90. Walk for those who can’t.
91. Pray.
92. Don’t jump to conclusions.
93. Research and appreciate your ancestors.
94. Allow another’s path to be different from yours.
95. Right a wrong.
96. Picnic.
97. Go fishing.
98. Appreciate.
99. Be authentic.
100. Do a good work without expecting anything in return.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Something different.
You've probably noticed the new banner. Jordan asked if I could change it. So difficult.
Love seeing the seeds of action being planted. Yes, please, if something settles onto your heart as an idea for doing good, please do it. Frankly, that is the sole source of comfort I'm finding lately.
A dear friend of mine called this week for a long, tearful, soothing chat, and she said something that I haven't stopped thinking about. Maybe you will agree. We talked of different loved ones who have passed on and how we still love them and think of them often, but she said, "Something about Kyrie's passing is different." She says that she can't stop thinking about Kyrie, Jordan and Lacie, and that most of each day during the past two and a half weeks have been spent crying and talking about Kyrie with people who come into her office at her church. These people--again, people who've never met Kyrie--are mourning, are touched in a visceral way. Commentators here on this blog are feeling that, too.
Something different.
Getting back to work for me has been strange. Just a few minutes ago, a freelance designer came into my office smiling and asking about the beautiful little girl in the photos that I have hanging on my bulletin board. I said, "That is my niece." I couldn't bring myself to say it in the past tense.
I'm not the same person who came to this office last month. I'm different. Everything else, though, is still the same. Some days I resent business as usual. Yesterday at a stop light, I nearly got out of my car to pick up and throw back the cigarette butt that the driver in front of me flicked from his window. Never one to allow a lot of schmucky junk into my brain, I now have zero tolerance for materialistic commercials, belligerent radio hosts or plain, ol' greed. I just don't have room for that stuff when matters of life and death prevail my thoughts.
Still wrestling with God's promises, but most days there is a moment where I am awash with peace when I think of Kyrie, like a divine surf swelling and rolling up and over my confusion then taking it out to sea. I hope that tide will erode today's hard feelings.
Although I may never be convinced of the price Kyrie paid for me, for us, to do better, there are many good deeds being worked in Kyrie's name, just like Susan's annual Easter bunny visits. Did you know that Jordan's LoveBox colleagues collectively donated 51 of their own vacation days to him? What an amazingly generous way to help him and Lacie through the aftermath. And members of Aldersgate Church sewed together a prayer quilt for Kyrie. And a talented knitter from Cheney's United Methodist Church hand made a prayer shawl for Lacie. And the owner of Fringe Salon is leaving the door open for Lacie's position; whenever she's ready to come back, she can. And the quilt raffle is still continuing as planned to help with those looming medical expenses.
Good stuff.
And maybe that's what this site can become: a repository for documenting good works. Wouldn't that be great? How wonderful it would be if humans could get addicted to doing good instead of any number of the downward spiraling vices.
More ideas to share tomorrow.
Love seeing the seeds of action being planted. Yes, please, if something settles onto your heart as an idea for doing good, please do it. Frankly, that is the sole source of comfort I'm finding lately.
A dear friend of mine called this week for a long, tearful, soothing chat, and she said something that I haven't stopped thinking about. Maybe you will agree. We talked of different loved ones who have passed on and how we still love them and think of them often, but she said, "Something about Kyrie's passing is different." She says that she can't stop thinking about Kyrie, Jordan and Lacie, and that most of each day during the past two and a half weeks have been spent crying and talking about Kyrie with people who come into her office at her church. These people--again, people who've never met Kyrie--are mourning, are touched in a visceral way. Commentators here on this blog are feeling that, too.
Something different.
Getting back to work for me has been strange. Just a few minutes ago, a freelance designer came into my office smiling and asking about the beautiful little girl in the photos that I have hanging on my bulletin board. I said, "That is my niece." I couldn't bring myself to say it in the past tense.
I'm not the same person who came to this office last month. I'm different. Everything else, though, is still the same. Some days I resent business as usual. Yesterday at a stop light, I nearly got out of my car to pick up and throw back the cigarette butt that the driver in front of me flicked from his window. Never one to allow a lot of schmucky junk into my brain, I now have zero tolerance for materialistic commercials, belligerent radio hosts or plain, ol' greed. I just don't have room for that stuff when matters of life and death prevail my thoughts.
Still wrestling with God's promises, but most days there is a moment where I am awash with peace when I think of Kyrie, like a divine surf swelling and rolling up and over my confusion then taking it out to sea. I hope that tide will erode today's hard feelings.
Although I may never be convinced of the price Kyrie paid for me, for us, to do better, there are many good deeds being worked in Kyrie's name, just like Susan's annual Easter bunny visits. Did you know that Jordan's LoveBox colleagues collectively donated 51 of their own vacation days to him? What an amazingly generous way to help him and Lacie through the aftermath. And members of Aldersgate Church sewed together a prayer quilt for Kyrie. And a talented knitter from Cheney's United Methodist Church hand made a prayer shawl for Lacie. And the owner of Fringe Salon is leaving the door open for Lacie's position; whenever she's ready to come back, she can. And the quilt raffle is still continuing as planned to help with those looming medical expenses.
Good stuff.
And maybe that's what this site can become: a repository for documenting good works. Wouldn't that be great? How wonderful it would be if humans could get addicted to doing good instead of any number of the downward spiraling vices.
More ideas to share tomorrow.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Kyrie's "greater purpose" begins.
Several weeks ago, I received an e-mail from my beloved middle school art teacher, Ms. Frakes, who now works in the Andover school district. A friend of hers, who happens to be the grown daughter of my dad's closest neighbors, dresses as the Easter bunny each year in Clearwater, and she was asking if Kyrie would like a special visit on Good Friday while in the hospital. This was before the MRI. Yes! Jordan and Lacie thought Kyrie would really love something like that.
Susan (a.k.a. Easter bunny) had been keeping up with this blog and had everything set up with Wesley for her visit. The following is a portion of her subsequent e-mail:
Then...the news came that Kyrie was going home on Thursday. My whole mindset changed. I just couldn't seem to think of anything else but your sweet niece and family. And the tears came and went. Came and went. I called the hospital to see if Renetta had told the other kids that the Easter Bunny was coming on Friday night. She said no, she hadn't. So I told her I just didn't feel I could do it. I apologized. And begged out. But...that did not dismiss the thoughts of Kyrie for me. I slept on it. Tossed and turned. Played it over in my head. And finally came to the conclusion on Friday morning that I could do nothing for Kyrie directly, but there were 28 other children stuck in the hospital over Easter weekend and I could do something for them.
So I made the call to the hospital.
Tried to explain my crazy emotional self and ask if the Easter Bunny could yes, please...come visit on Friday night? Renetta graciously said yes! So....off to Dollar Tree I went on my lunch hour. Found tons of fun stuff for the precious patients I was going to visit. And, at 7:00 PM on Friday night, the Easter Bunny and her friendly assistant, Ms. Frakes, arrived at Wesley Hospital to spread what Easter Cheer they could to some well-deserving children. I had a basket filled to the brim with stuffed bunnies and stickers, and Ms. Frakes had a big duffel bag over each shoulder filled with puzzles, posters to color, crayons, bath toys, butterflies on sticks,books, CD's, and misc. Easter items.
And...in the bottom of my Easter Basket, a picture of Kyrie Thome.
She would be with us this evening, even if in a small way. We mentioned to several staff members that we had originally planned on coming to visit Kyrie....and a soft smile and knowing look in their eyes appeared. I am guessing she touched the hearts of the staff at the hospital as well.
No one should ever "have" to be on the pediatrics floor. Ever. But....everyone should go to visit. To give something of themselves to those children. To read. To deliver toys. To dress up as something silly and entertain. Something. Because the appreciation that one takes from there, is humbling. Appreciation of health. Appreciation of patience. Appreciation of healthcare professionals who are able to do that job day in and day out. Appreciation for the parents who He has given sick children to take care of. Appreciation for Life.
It is usually a given that a smile will appear on a child's face when he/she sees the Easter Bunny. But the smiles that appeared on the adult faces, was just icing on the cake Friday night. The furrowed brow on dad. The pale face of mom. The tired eyes of a grandparent. We saw all of those. But to be able to see a relaxed smile on these burdened adult faces...and so very many "thank you's!"...made me wonder why I had hesitated to come. Maybe that is where the saying "Dumb Bunny" comes from?!
The experience left such a positive impression on both Ms. Frakes and me. Awesome!
Needless to say, I do believe that the Easter Bunny visit to the Wesley Hospital Pediatrics Floor was a success...and it was done with great love and in honor of, Miss Kyrie.
This is a tradition I hope to continue every year...and every year I will go knowing that a little girl who I never had the privilege to personally meet, led me to other little girls and boys who might need a little Spring cheer that an appreciative Easter Bunny will gladly deliver.
My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family Megan. How lucky Kyrie was to have you...and how lucky we all have been to have been touched by her.
Love,
Susan Jae Eckel
"Easter Bunny"
Susan (a.k.a. Easter bunny) had been keeping up with this blog and had everything set up with Wesley for her visit. The following is a portion of her subsequent e-mail:
Then...the news came that Kyrie was going home on Thursday. My whole mindset changed. I just couldn't seem to think of anything else but your sweet niece and family. And the tears came and went. Came and went. I called the hospital to see if Renetta had told the other kids that the Easter Bunny was coming on Friday night. She said no, she hadn't. So I told her I just didn't feel I could do it. I apologized. And begged out. But...that did not dismiss the thoughts of Kyrie for me. I slept on it. Tossed and turned. Played it over in my head. And finally came to the conclusion on Friday morning that I could do nothing for Kyrie directly, but there were 28 other children stuck in the hospital over Easter weekend and I could do something for them.
So I made the call to the hospital.
Tried to explain my crazy emotional self and ask if the Easter Bunny could yes, please...come visit on Friday night? Renetta graciously said yes! So....off to Dollar Tree I went on my lunch hour. Found tons of fun stuff for the precious patients I was going to visit. And, at 7:00 PM on Friday night, the Easter Bunny and her friendly assistant, Ms. Frakes, arrived at Wesley Hospital to spread what Easter Cheer they could to some well-deserving children. I had a basket filled to the brim with stuffed bunnies and stickers, and Ms. Frakes had a big duffel bag over each shoulder filled with puzzles, posters to color, crayons, bath toys, butterflies on sticks,books, CD's, and misc. Easter items.
And...in the bottom of my Easter Basket, a picture of Kyrie Thome.
She would be with us this evening, even if in a small way. We mentioned to several staff members that we had originally planned on coming to visit Kyrie....and a soft smile and knowing look in their eyes appeared. I am guessing she touched the hearts of the staff at the hospital as well.
No one should ever "have" to be on the pediatrics floor. Ever. But....everyone should go to visit. To give something of themselves to those children. To read. To deliver toys. To dress up as something silly and entertain. Something. Because the appreciation that one takes from there, is humbling. Appreciation of health. Appreciation of patience. Appreciation of healthcare professionals who are able to do that job day in and day out. Appreciation for the parents who He has given sick children to take care of. Appreciation for Life.
It is usually a given that a smile will appear on a child's face when he/she sees the Easter Bunny. But the smiles that appeared on the adult faces, was just icing on the cake Friday night. The furrowed brow on dad. The pale face of mom. The tired eyes of a grandparent. We saw all of those. But to be able to see a relaxed smile on these burdened adult faces...and so very many "thank you's!"...made me wonder why I had hesitated to come. Maybe that is where the saying "Dumb Bunny" comes from?!
The experience left such a positive impression on both Ms. Frakes and me. Awesome!
Needless to say, I do believe that the Easter Bunny visit to the Wesley Hospital Pediatrics Floor was a success...and it was done with great love and in honor of, Miss Kyrie.
This is a tradition I hope to continue every year...and every year I will go knowing that a little girl who I never had the privilege to personally meet, led me to other little girls and boys who might need a little Spring cheer that an appreciative Easter Bunny will gladly deliver.
My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family Megan. How lucky Kyrie was to have you...and how lucky we all have been to have been touched by her.
Love,
Susan Jae Eckel
"Easter Bunny"
Friday, April 20, 2007
Collecting more thoughts.
Been thinking a lot about how much we value goodness and about what exactly it takes for people to change their lives. When does a story about a sick little girl stick to your soul in a way that changes old, self-centered habits?
How many times have we heard of a neighbor or distant relative or news story of someone enduring something tragic? How many times do we hear "life is short" or "make a difference"? We know, we know, but do we do anything about it? Don't we just sit on the couch/do our jobs/talk on the phone/push the shopping carts and watch a few other people make a difference?
Several of you have said, and I agree, that Kyrie's life has a greater purpose, which is to say that I, you, we, they, must be changed for the better, do something for the better to make her nebulous "greater purpose" true. Quite a call to action, no?
I work with a guy who lives in a rough part of K.C. I just found out over lunch today that each summer he coaches softball for about 30 kids ages 6 to 15. Just random kids. It's not an organized league. He buys them t-shirts (He's not even close to being "well off.") and gives them a place, time and something to do to keep them out of trouble. Just him. Just because.
Thinking about some exciting ideas that I'd like to share probably next week.
In the meantime, here's a story about an experiment designed to see if people notice and value goodness. Very telling.
How many times have we heard of a neighbor or distant relative or news story of someone enduring something tragic? How many times do we hear "life is short" or "make a difference"? We know, we know, but do we do anything about it? Don't we just sit on the couch/do our jobs/talk on the phone/push the shopping carts and watch a few other people make a difference?
Several of you have said, and I agree, that Kyrie's life has a greater purpose, which is to say that I, you, we, they, must be changed for the better, do something for the better to make her nebulous "greater purpose" true. Quite a call to action, no?
I work with a guy who lives in a rough part of K.C. I just found out over lunch today that each summer he coaches softball for about 30 kids ages 6 to 15. Just random kids. It's not an organized league. He buys them t-shirts (He's not even close to being "well off.") and gives them a place, time and something to do to keep them out of trouble. Just him. Just because.
Thinking about some exciting ideas that I'd like to share probably next week.
In the meantime, here's a story about an experiment designed to see if people notice and value goodness. Very telling.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Amateur Theology
In the last week, I've thunk myself in circles. Round and round, I keep asking questions that no one can answer. I've asked God those same questions and still no answers. I consulted the good book and ran across passages of "ask and you shall receive" and "He will not forsake you," but sorrow has consumed my ability to fully believe that right now. And then I feel guilty for doubting Him.
No less than 76 prayers each day poured from my heart for Kyrie's healing, more than I've ever said for anything. A friend of mine said that she was in her church prayerfully begging, begging--bigger & louder than she has prayed for her own children--for Kyrie. Where did all of our prayers go?
Course, all this thinking loops over and around bursts of salty tears and the new cavern in my gut. As each day passes, I feel further from her. I don't want anyone to forget her. A week has passed since her funeral. Two weeks since Jordan and Lacie took her home from PICU. Whether I like it or not, forgetting is a symptom of time, like floating is to a bubble. But ... I suppose ... technically, I'm getting closer to her, right? I'm closer to my biological end today than I was yesterday. We all are, which means we'll get to see Kyrie and everyone else in our lives that we think we've lost soon rather than later.
And that brings me to the one thing that I don't question: Kyrie is with Jesus. She is in the place of perfect, holy love, a place where we all want to be eventually. Upon that truth, all my questions must fall. A) There is a heaven. B) She's there. C) I want to be there with her and with Him. D) Jesus tells me to have faith, to believe and serve Him to get there. E) So I must have faith, believe and serve until I get my answers face to face.
Aah, faith. Within even when you're without.
No less than 76 prayers each day poured from my heart for Kyrie's healing, more than I've ever said for anything. A friend of mine said that she was in her church prayerfully begging, begging--bigger & louder than she has prayed for her own children--for Kyrie. Where did all of our prayers go?
Course, all this thinking loops over and around bursts of salty tears and the new cavern in my gut. As each day passes, I feel further from her. I don't want anyone to forget her. A week has passed since her funeral. Two weeks since Jordan and Lacie took her home from PICU. Whether I like it or not, forgetting is a symptom of time, like floating is to a bubble. But ... I suppose ... technically, I'm getting closer to her, right? I'm closer to my biological end today than I was yesterday. We all are, which means we'll get to see Kyrie and everyone else in our lives that we think we've lost soon rather than later.
And that brings me to the one thing that I don't question: Kyrie is with Jesus. She is in the place of perfect, holy love, a place where we all want to be eventually. Upon that truth, all my questions must fall. A) There is a heaven. B) She's there. C) I want to be there with her and with Him. D) Jesus tells me to have faith, to believe and serve Him to get there. E) So I must have faith, believe and serve until I get my answers face to face.
Aah, faith. Within even when you're without.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Kyrie's Photos
For Kyrie's service, we edited together a slide show of pictures from her short 19 months on this earth, each one a sweet gem. Originally, the slide show was nearly 13 minutes long. YouTube only allows for 10 minute videos, so I had to edit even more. Grueling.
Click here to view.
Click here to view.
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