perspective and gratitude

my mom recently sent me a book by ann voskamp (whose name i had never before heard of), and i've just started reading it. i have lived by a certain [non-novel] book philosophy for the past ten years or so, and it's this: when someone gives me a book, i don't always start reading it directly. i pray that the Holy Spirit will speak to my heart and lead me to read a certain book at a time when that particular book will help me most. and he does. 

one thousand gifts: a dare to live fully right where you are has been first on the coffee table and then on my bedside table for the past week or so, but i didn't pick it up with the feeling that my heart was ready for it until the other evening. and i was met with the most beautifully refreshing honesty in the first chapter that, although it talked about great grief, left a smile on my lips. anyone who knows me well knows that i never sugar-coat anything, have trouble with people who do, and that i crave and thrive off raw, bare honesty and realness. this way of thinking and living often leaves me with disapproving looks and awkward moments of silence in this swedish we're-all-about-individualism-and-everyone-stands-alone-but-we're-really-scared-to-death-to-say-what-we-really-think-and-believe-because-then-we-might-not-fit-in culture. but i don't care.  boat-rocking seems to have become part of who i am, and i'm quite okay with that. 

digression aside, ann voskamp's words of refreshing honesty resonated with me from page one, and i look forward to blogging about my own thoughts and feelings that are stirred up as i journey through this book. 

on many occasions already since levi's death, i have been asked how i can continue to praise, thank, and worship a God who could allow my precious little baby to die, a God who can allow suffering in general. and even long before levi's name was ever on my lips, i'd conversed with non-believing friends regarding their "inability" or unwillingness to commit their lives to a God who doesn't stop children from dying and who allows world catastrophies to occur and evil to seemingly prevail. i'm sure you've been on either one or both sides of such a discussion at some point in your own life as well.

and as legitimate and discussion-worthy the questions posed by my friends are, i cannot, by any means, presume to answer them all. throughout my life, though, and especially now as we live in the shadows of the terrible loss of our little levi, one question continually comes to mind, and ann voskamp so eloquently puts words to it:

Can there be a good God? A God who graces with good gifts when a crib lies empty through long nights, and bugs burrow through coffins? Where is God, really? How can He be good when babies die, and marriages implode, and dreams blow away, dust in the wind? Where is grace bestowed when cancer gnaws and loneliness aches and nameless places in us soundlessly die, break off without reason, erode away. Where hides this joy of the Lord, this God who fills the earth with good things, and how do I fully live when life is full of hurt? How do I wake up to joy and grace and beauty and all that is the fullest life when I must stay numb to losses and crushed dreams and all that empties me out?

or personally, why did God allow our levi to die while he allows crack mommies on the street corner give birth to babies who will die from neglect or be traded around to different orphanages all of their lives? no, i have asked that question and many others like it, mind you, amidst moments filled with anger, ear-piercing screams, and gut-wrenching sobs. but, no, that's not {really} my question. the question i constantly return to is this: who are you (speaking to myself)? who are you to think that you know better, to think that you are smarter, wiser, better than God, to think that you deserve more or better than what you've received? who are you? 

i know that such thinking goes against everything our selfish, self-absorbed, "gimme, gimme, gimme"--yes, i was taken to the new ABBA museum here in stockholm last weekend--western world way of thinking and living tells us, but it should. no one, in all honesty, feels good living from a philosophy that the world or God owes them something. but satan tries oh so hard to get us stuck in that way of thinking, to twist the truth around so that we focus on what we "should" have, what we've been "denied" instead of how blessed we truly are. ann writes:

From all of our beginnings, we keep reliving the Garden story.

Satan, he wanted more. More power, more glory.

Ultimately, in his essence, Satan is an ingrate. And he sinks his venom into the heart of Eden. Satan's sin becomes the first sin of all humanity: the sin of ingratitude. Adam and Eve are, simply, painfully, ungrateful for what God gave. 

Isn't that the catalyst of all my sins?

Our fall was, has always been, and always will be, that we aren't satisfied in God and what He gives. We hunger for something more, something other. 

Standing before that tree, laden with fruit withheld, we listen to Evil's murmur, 'In the day you eat from it your eyes will be opened...' (Genesis 3:5 NASB). But in the beginning, our eyes were already open. Our sight was perfect. Our vision let us see a world spilling with goodness. Our eyes fell on nothing but the glory of God. We saw God as He truly is: good. But we were lured by the deception that there was more to a full life, more to see. And, true, there was more to see: the ugliness we hadn't beheld, the sinfulness we hadn't witnessed, the loss we hadn't known. 

We eat. And in an instant, we are blind. No longer do we see God as one we can trust. No longer do we perceive Him as wholly good...

We eat. And in an instant, we see. Everywhere we look, we see a world of lack, a universe of loss, a cosmos of scarcity and injustice...

...Do we ever think of this busted-up place as the result of us ingrates, unsatisfied, we who punctured it all with a bite? The fruit's poison has infected the whole of humanity. Me. I say no to what He's given. I thirst for some roborant, some elixir, to relieve the anguish of what I've believed: God isn't good. God doesn't love me. 

oh how sneaky satan is with his lies and twists of truth and reality! but back to my question: who am i to want more, better, different? i am not God. i do not know better than he does. i do not see the big picture. i am not in control, and i certainly do not deserve a baby or a nice flat or quality, organic food on my table. i don't even deserve to be happy. 

BUT, and it is an all-caps, life-changing "but," i must choose to see things as they were meant to be, in the garden. i choose to believe that God loves me and calls me his friend (i.e. jeremiah 31.3, john 15.15), that his ways and plans are different/better/higher than mine (isaiah 55.8-9), that he does see the big picture because he created the world (i.e. isaiah 46.10, ephesians 2.10), that he IS in control (i.e. romans 13.1; psalm 22.28), and that every good thing i receive from him is a blessing (james 1.17).

do these beliefs take my pain and grief away? no. but they certainly put it into perspective and make getting up and moving forward each day a bit easier. they remind me that i'm not in control--that's a great relief for all of us, i'm sure--that i don't need to have all the answers, and that there is hope and life and a future in Jesus, a future much more splendid than anything my tiny brain can comprehend.

does that future include siblings for levi? yes, i believe it does. does it make the thoughts of trying again less scary? no. but in these truths, in my faith, i choose to believe that my God is a GOOD God who cries with me and blesses me abundantly. and so i, like job, can say with great hope, a good dose of pain, and a little humility, "Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him" job 13.15.

  

**books have been a fantastic blessing that have helped us grieve the loss of baby levi. i'm working on an extensive blog about ways you can help others grieve, and these precious gifts will definitely be on my list. stay tuned!**

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God. Psalm 43.5

i thought about just putting this verse up on facebook as per usual, but when i realised how many thoughts it stirred up within me, i thought i'd better blog about it :).

within the span of 10 verses (psalm 42.5-43.5), this verse is repeated 3 times, which leads me to several thoughts.

as humans, we tend to repeat words and phrases that we want to remember, things that we need to be reminded of so that they "sink in". it might be a note on the mirror telling us that we're beautiful (because we all are) or smart or strong even though we don't often {feel} like it. that's the same thing david is doing here, reminding himself that his hope is in God, the giver of life and salvation and NOT in his circumstances that constantly change. because you see, although david was king over israel and a man after God's own heart (acts 13.22), he was human and struggled with life just as we do with enemies chasing him, battles, fears, failures, etc., life events that seem to contradict this truth. so he put it on repeat and made it a mantra of sorts. i think we'd do well to do the same:

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.

the other thought is that we {can't} trust our feelings, as they are not often indicators of the truth. there are many times when i don't feel like praising God, and i certainly don't always feel hopeful. my feelings tell me that life just plain sucks sometimes, that it's unfair, that things aren't going to get better, that if God really loved me, he wouldn't have taken levi from us...

...but the truth is much different than my feelings. what i {know} is that neither God nor his Word ever fail me. EVER. i know that God does love me. he does keep his promises. he does know the pain i'm going through because he gave up his only son for me (!!!), and there is {life}, eternal life in heaven with him and my little levi (“This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again." john 3.16-17, the message)

you and i, just like king david, must constantly remind ourselves of these truths because life is full of trials and hardships and people who want to bring us down with their negativity or even well-meant words that manage to hurt us. BUT there is hope. there is healing. and there is {life} in  Jesus.

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.

march for babies::team "levi's legacy"

so my precious step-sister heather started organising a march for babies in memory of baby levi almost as soon as she found out about his death. we are so very honoured and thankful for all the people who have signed up to walk and who have donated money to march for babies. this act of love and kindness is one of the many that people have so generously showered over us during the past two months, and we are so grateful!

our little levi wasn't born prematurely, but way too many babies are, and way too many babies die unnecessarily just before or just after birth. we so often feel helpless in sitatuions like ours, but there is always something we can do, and march for babies is a beautiful example. from their website:

"When you walk in March for Babies, you give hope to nearly half a million babies born too soon each year. The money you raise supports programs in your community that help moms have healthy, full-term pregnancies. And it funds research to find answers to the problems that threaten our babies. We’ve been walking since 1970 and have raised an incredible $2.3 billion to benefit all babies."

if you're in the washington state area and want to join team "levi's legacy," feel free to contact heather via her facebook page linked to her name above. if you want to donate money to levi's team to help babies across america or read more about it, click here. or if you just want to learn more about march for dimes and march for babies, click on the link above.

when levi's team is marching on 17 may, they'll even sport super cute t-shirts designed by heather, and we are so proud! we'd be there if we could, but we promise to keep all involved covered in prayer! 

"Trusting acceptance of trials brings blessings that far outweigh them all."

for reasons that i might share later, yesterday was a really tough day that i wasn't expecting. it felt like a blow to my head and heart, and i woke up this morning exhausted and feeling like i needed a little extra encouragement. 

after reading a few psalms and a chapter in acts--we're doing a read through the Bible in a year plan with our church, new life--i decided to pick up Jesus Calling by sarah young, a devotional book that i haven't used in awhile. i curiously turned to 18 january, levi's birthday, to see what it said, to see, out of curiosity, if the day's devotion was applicable to our lives in that moment. they were, and i find great peace, comfort, and truth in reading them today:

I am leading you along the high road, but there are descents as well as ascents. In the distance you see snow-covered peaks glistening in the brilliant sunlight. Your longing to reach those peaks is good, but you must not take shortcuts. Your assignment is to follow Me, allowing Me to direct your path. Let the heights beckon you onward, but stay close to Me. 

Learn to trust Me when things go "wrong." Disruptions to your routine highlight your dependence on Me. Trusting acceptance of trials brings blessings that far outweigh them all. Walk hand in hand with Me through this day. I have lovingly planned every inch of the way. Trust does not falter when the path becomes rocky and steep. Breath deep draughts of My Presence, and hold tightly to My hand. Together we can make it!

thank you, Jesus, that we never walk alone, that you go through our trials with us, and that our suffering is never, ever in vain. i'm so thankful for your grace and blessed by your presence. 

my little levi

it's so common before your baby is born to wonder things about him. who's he going to look more like? who's personality will he have? what will be his favourite toy, favourite food? many of those things we will never know about our little boy, but some things we do know because he lived and breathed and was a part of us for nine months. 

i know that his hair was viking red like his pappa's beard. he was the same length as me when i was born, and his hands, feet, and nose we so much like his pappa's. we'll never know whose eyes he had, but he totally had my lips!

i know that he loved vinegar and sourdough bread like his mamma but that he hated coffee. we're still trying to figure out which relative that came from! he was not a fan of jerk chicken, barley, couscous, or bulgar, or cucumbers, either, and for those i have no explanation. he was a night owl, too, although we tried to discourage such behaviour! :)

i know that he would have kept us busy playing sports, although suppe and i are in disagreement over which type of football that might have been ;). he loved to kick, not just for a few minutes at a time but for HOURS on end. he loved to hear me sing to him, and he loved his pappa's voice most of all. 

every evening (and even most mornings) when suppe placed his mouth close to my belly and said, "hej levi! det är pappa här. ska du sparka lite för mig?" (hey levi! it's daddy here. are you gonna kick a little for me?) and levi would kick and kick...except for thursday, 16 january 2014. that evening there were no kicks, only stillness...

oh precious levi, how we longed to get to know you, to hear you laugh and sing and even cry, to watch you grow into a michevious little boy and even a great man of God!! but there is some comfort in knowing that you'll never know hunger or the pain of a scraped knee. nor the anger of someone taking what was yours. you'll never know fear or loneliness, and a tear will never run down your cheek. 

instead, you will know joy that we can only long to experience. you will walk and dance and play on streets of gold and laugh uncontrollably. you will sing new, perfect songs to the Lord that you'll teach us one day. you will live eternally with the most amazing Pappa in the world and you will be loved and held and cuddled so much better than we ever could...

but it doesn't stop me from longing to hold you, to blow on your boo boos and wipe away your tears, to tickle you until you squeal for me to stop. 

and i'm pretty sure that i'll never stop longing for those things, but i do believe that the ache will lessen over time. but until then, i'll keep borrowing your little hercules and cuddling with him. i'm pretty sure that neither he nor you mind too much :).

but know, my precious child, that we'll always love you and always miss you and that no other child will ever take your place. your brothers and sisters will hear all about their big brother levi, and they, too, will long to be with you in heaven one day. 

until then, we'll keep sharing your story and thanking God that he let us have the privilege of being your mamma and pappa. 

and as another pappa (robert munsch) wrote who lost two precious babies at birth

"i'll love you forever, i'll like you for always. as long as i'm living, my baby you'll be." 

your mamma

hopes & dreams

i think that the worst thing about losing levi has been the loss of all the unspoken hopes and dreams we had for him and for our life as a family. when you lose a friend or family member, you lose what was, but when you lose a baby, you lose what might have been, and i think that all of our dreams that died with levi have also been magnified because he was our first child.

i know that grief has looked and manifested itself quite differently for suppe and me, and that's natural. the whole idea of becoming a dad is still quite new for him, and i don't know that most dads ever really grasp the whole fatherhood concept until the baby actually arrives. but for me, levi's mamma, i haven't only lost my precious baby, i've lost all the hopes and dreams that have accompanied my longing to be a mom.

anyone who knows me knows that i've been a mother in some form or another almost my whole life. i was a mommy to my dolls from the age of two, and anytime friends and i played house on the school playground, i always took the roll of mom, and it felt so natural. even in high school and university, many of my friends, especially the guys, jokingly called me mom. and then when i moved to sweden as a missionary, my first job here was as a nanny caring for three kids (nine months and two- and six-years-old). and i loved it!

as i prayed over my longing for a husband and a family, i prayed that God would take away those desires until the time was right. and then one bright, sunny morning in 2010 as i was on my way to work--i was a café manager at the time--i remember very clearly walking by a mom struggling with her three unhappy children. and in a split second, God took away my longing to be a mom...and it was so freeing!!

then suppe and i married in october 2011, and although we discussed starting a family, the desire wasn't there in either of us. we continued to talk about it occassionally, and then in april 2013, we both felt that the Lord had placed a desire for children in both our hearts. and the first time we tried to get pregnant that month, the Lord began to form little levi in my womb and began to number his days, although we had no idea they'd be cut so short ("For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb...Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them." Psalm 139.13,16)

since then, i've known a whole new kind of love, and that longing to be a mom, to be levi's mom grew and grew in my heart. i longed to see him smile, to hear him laugh and even cry, to take him on long walks in the forest, to feed and cuddle him, and to see him take his first steps and develop his own personality. 

but instead, there was no crying when he was born, only deafening silence. and right now, as i grieve, i'm trying to cope with not only the loss of my baby but also the loss of all the dreams i had for his life and for being his mamma. 

i know that i am still and will always be levi's mommy and that he will always be my first baby, but my heart breaks for the life we'll never have or know together. 

i know that there will be more children; God has promised us that, but there will never be another levi gideon surell, and that truth has left a hole so large in my heart that i don't know how it can ever be filled again. 

but it will be. God will fill it, and he will heal me. he already is. and he is faithful, oh so very faithful. i keep hearing the bridge to chris tomlin's song "sovereign" in my head:

all my hopes, all i need, held in your hands

all my life, all of me, held in your hands

all my fears, all my dreams, held in your hands

and those words are true; i claim them. i know that God is not only sovereign but that he is also loving and good ("Once God has spoken; twice have I heard this: that power belongs to God, and that to you, O Lord, belongs steadfast love." Psalm 62.11-12a). i have experienced both of these aspects of the Lord and know them to be true.

and as hard as it is to comprehend, the hopes and dreams that my Father God has for me (and for ALL believers!!) are much greater than my (our) own! and his promise to the israelites who were sent into babylonian exile is also a promise to us: 

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the LORD, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the LORD, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile. Jeremiah 29.11-14

my "exile" is nothing like what the israelites endured, but we serve the same God, YHWH, the God of hope and restoration, who is able to heal the holes in our hearts, to give us new hopes and dreams, and to bless us with joy that nothing in this world can steal from us. "You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore." Psalm 16.11

fullness of joy. i'm choosing to walk into that promise today. and for each of you reading these words, this is my prayer for you (and me) today:

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. Romans 15.13