Today I went back to kindergarten. Since retirement, I have been honored each week to read to the sweet little ones who are just beginning their adventures in education. Who will they be in twelve years? Will they go to college? Will they go to a trade school? Will they push the boundaries and create new and important inventions or therapies or medicines? Will they become politicians? Nurses? Teachers? Will they travel and explore this earth or stay close to home? They have more potential than they could possibly dream. We must encourage them and offer them every opportunity to learn as much as they can. Starting with sitting still to listen to a story.
Their little faces tell more tales than we sometimes want to hear. The pain and fear of what happens at home. The sorrow of loss one so little should never have to bear. The fact that they know more about life's horrors than they should. But you also see the joy. The joy of learning. Of making new friends. Of excitement because something new is happening today (like having a lady come read to you). Of knowing someone believes you can do it.
I stood in the hall as a first grade class passed and saw some of the faces I read to last year. They smiled at me and said, "Hi!" One boy said, "Hey! You made us thunder cake!" Yes, yes I did. I will tell you, it was without doubt the worst cake I have ever made in my life! But those kindergarteners ate it up and loved it! I'm happy to be a good memory for them.
I want to share with you something that happened today. I didn't see it, but I experienced the story from the parapro who was in the room. They got a new student today. He was scared and wanted his mommy. As his teachers worked their magic to help him adjust to this strange new world that had been thrust upon him, it was the kids who reached him. One little girl went and sat beside him. Another little one brought him a tissue. One by one they introduced themselves to him and told him it would be ok. One child said, "Our mommies always come back." One asked, "Can I sit beside him at lunch?" Those children, who have only been in kindergarten for a few days themselves, loved and cared and supported their new friend in ways no adult could. He relaxed and I'm sure by the end of the day he had many new friends to tell about when he got home.
As that story was told we all got teary-eyed. The innocence of a child's heart is a beautiful thing. We forget as we grow older that the simplest thing a person needs is a kind word and the offer of friendship.
It's true. Everything you need to know you learn in kindergarten. This is what they taught me today: Listen when someone is speaking to you. Use your manners. Be grateful and say so. Offer a smile and a memory when you see someone you haven't seen in a while. Encourage someone who is afraid. Offer a tissue. Enjoy the thrill of a good book. Follow the rules. Be kind. And most of all, love your friends.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Monday, August 3, 2015
Twenty-seven Years Later
The pains began to come like they described in class. Timing them, the excitement grew. Back then rich people had car phones. Personal cell phones and instant contact were unheard of. I don't really remember how I got word to my husband. I was in labor. It was time for him to come get me and take me to the hospital.
When you are expecting your first child and are waiting for your ride to the hospital, time seems to creep along. It sure did that afternoon. He couldn't get home. There was a traffic jam on the interstate and he had to drive down the emergency lane to get past it. It seemed like hours went by before he finally got home. I tried not to be upset.
There really wasn't any drama. Until we got to the hospital.
We are pretty level-headed people, my husband and I. We don't get upset or cause scenes. We are logical thinkers. So, when my nurse couldn't find a heartbeat with the first monitor, we didn't get alarmed. Until about the third machine she tried. Then we began to wonder. But when she said, "I need to call your doctor," we got scared. Can I stop here to brag on God just a little?
You ladies know that after you have seen a few ultrasound screens, you can tell a little bit about what you are seeing. Well! That night when my nurse used the ultrasound machine to check for a heartbeat, God blinded me in a way. Everything on the screen looked blurry and confusing. I couldn't make out anything that looked like anything I had ever seen before. I thought I saw an eyeball. My sweet nurse later told me that what I had seen was a still heart.
Anyway, I will never, ever, ever forget my dear doctor turning to me after he had looked at that same screen, putting his hand on my knee, and saying, "Vicki, I don't know what went wrong, but we have lost this baby." Even as I typed that, my heart skipped a beat and my breath caught in my throat. My baby was gone.
I don't write this for you to feel sorry for me. I write to tell you about God. He's just AWESOME! Here are some ways He showed up for us:
The first thing I want you to notice is what my doctor said. "We." From the very first I was constantly reminded that we were not alone. Turns out, my doctor's wife had lost their first baby in a similar manner. So, he had compassion and empathy that no one else could. He came in on his off day, when he should have been playing golf, to sit with us and talk. He cared that much.
My sweet nurse had empathy too. She stayed late that night to talk with my husband and explain things to him that were quickly going to happen and decisions we were going to have to make. You don't come to the hospital to have a baby prepared to make a decision about which funeral home to call and make funeral and burial arrangements. She had personal experience and she stayed to love on us when she was exhausted from her busy day.
I was so sick. Had been for nine months. It was the same with both of my girls. Sick, sick, sick...even in delivery. By the time I was ready to deliver, there was no one else in the unit. So there were a lot of people with nothing to do. I remember them being around and hearing them say, "Bless her heart," while I was throwing up on the delivery table. I remember that everyone was focused on helping me. I remember them making sure my husband and I were ok. I remember the caring yet sad looks on their faces.
And the quiet of the room. No cries. Except for ours. No high-fives. No congratulations. In the recovery room they brought her to me. She was perfect. I never held her. I couldn't. I did not want to spend the rest of my life remembering the heaviness of her in my arms. I didn't know they had made pictures for me. Later they gave us an envelope and said, "Don't open it now. Keep this for when you are ready. Don't throw it away." Those pictures are such a treasure!
We cried a lot over the next few days. My husband was my champion. He planned the funeral. My mom and dad went to get a beautiful white gown for her to be buried in and took it to the funeral home. And when I cried because I didn't get to see it (the casket would be closed), they drove to the funeral home to get it and bring it to me and took it back again. We had a graveside service with just our family...our big family, including aunts, uncles, and cousins. Then it was all over and we were at home.
Without our baby.
But God. Oh, God was so good! He has taken that horrible experience and shown himself over and over and over again. We survived and had another perfect baby girl a year and a half later. When she was born I said, "She looks just like her sister!" (Except for the little dimple in her chin.) We have been honored to sit with other parents who were thrown into the same stormy sea. I have had so many people say to me, "I was there that night." Those people whom I never really saw but was aware of. They watched. And they were touched by the faith they saw in us. You see, as we held each other and cried, they watched. As we prayed and asked God why, they listened. As we grieved and mourned, they saw how God comforted us. They saw the peace that flooded my room and our souls. God made his presence known to so many.
I'll never forget the day when a friend I hadn't seen in a while looked at her teen daughter and said, "This is the lady who had the baby I named you after." My experience was in August, and in February this beautiful young lady came into our lives. Her mom probably doesn't know, but when they called to tell me she was born, I sat in the floor and ummm, shall we just say, had a long and emotional talk with the Lord about the fairness of it all. I remember her asking if I cared if she used a name, but I never knew why. They will never know how touched I was to hear that she was named after my child.
Funny story and confession time. That same friend walked with me through this horror while she was pregnant. I'm sure that was hard on her. One day we were in a fabric store to buy fabric for her to make the curtains for her nursery. It was maybe four or five weeks after the funeral. When the older lady was measuring and cutting her fabric, she innocently looked at me and asked when I was going to have children. I guess it hit me wrong. I confess I didn't show much Jesus at that moment. I looked at that poor lady and said, "I just did. She died." Oh dear! My friend looked at me and gasped. I really couldn't believe I said it. But, just in case you had the mistaken impression that I handled it all perfectly, I wanted to tell you that.
It's been twenty-seven years. Sometimes it's almost unreal. Sometimes it's too real. Through it I learned that God will never leave you or forsake you. When things are harder than you ever imagine they could be, he is stronger.
I don't know why, but this year I was driven to share. So, my friend whoever you are, if you are reading this and going through or are remembering that most difficult day in your life, please let me encourage you to lean on the Lord. He is there. He will carry you through. There is nothing too big for him.
When you are expecting your first child and are waiting for your ride to the hospital, time seems to creep along. It sure did that afternoon. He couldn't get home. There was a traffic jam on the interstate and he had to drive down the emergency lane to get past it. It seemed like hours went by before he finally got home. I tried not to be upset.
There really wasn't any drama. Until we got to the hospital.
We are pretty level-headed people, my husband and I. We don't get upset or cause scenes. We are logical thinkers. So, when my nurse couldn't find a heartbeat with the first monitor, we didn't get alarmed. Until about the third machine she tried. Then we began to wonder. But when she said, "I need to call your doctor," we got scared. Can I stop here to brag on God just a little?
You ladies know that after you have seen a few ultrasound screens, you can tell a little bit about what you are seeing. Well! That night when my nurse used the ultrasound machine to check for a heartbeat, God blinded me in a way. Everything on the screen looked blurry and confusing. I couldn't make out anything that looked like anything I had ever seen before. I thought I saw an eyeball. My sweet nurse later told me that what I had seen was a still heart.
Anyway, I will never, ever, ever forget my dear doctor turning to me after he had looked at that same screen, putting his hand on my knee, and saying, "Vicki, I don't know what went wrong, but we have lost this baby." Even as I typed that, my heart skipped a beat and my breath caught in my throat. My baby was gone.
I don't write this for you to feel sorry for me. I write to tell you about God. He's just AWESOME! Here are some ways He showed up for us:
The first thing I want you to notice is what my doctor said. "We." From the very first I was constantly reminded that we were not alone. Turns out, my doctor's wife had lost their first baby in a similar manner. So, he had compassion and empathy that no one else could. He came in on his off day, when he should have been playing golf, to sit with us and talk. He cared that much.
My sweet nurse had empathy too. She stayed late that night to talk with my husband and explain things to him that were quickly going to happen and decisions we were going to have to make. You don't come to the hospital to have a baby prepared to make a decision about which funeral home to call and make funeral and burial arrangements. She had personal experience and she stayed to love on us when she was exhausted from her busy day.
I was so sick. Had been for nine months. It was the same with both of my girls. Sick, sick, sick...even in delivery. By the time I was ready to deliver, there was no one else in the unit. So there were a lot of people with nothing to do. I remember them being around and hearing them say, "Bless her heart," while I was throwing up on the delivery table. I remember that everyone was focused on helping me. I remember them making sure my husband and I were ok. I remember the caring yet sad looks on their faces.
And the quiet of the room. No cries. Except for ours. No high-fives. No congratulations. In the recovery room they brought her to me. She was perfect. I never held her. I couldn't. I did not want to spend the rest of my life remembering the heaviness of her in my arms. I didn't know they had made pictures for me. Later they gave us an envelope and said, "Don't open it now. Keep this for when you are ready. Don't throw it away." Those pictures are such a treasure!
We cried a lot over the next few days. My husband was my champion. He planned the funeral. My mom and dad went to get a beautiful white gown for her to be buried in and took it to the funeral home. And when I cried because I didn't get to see it (the casket would be closed), they drove to the funeral home to get it and bring it to me and took it back again. We had a graveside service with just our family...our big family, including aunts, uncles, and cousins. Then it was all over and we were at home.
Without our baby.
But God. Oh, God was so good! He has taken that horrible experience and shown himself over and over and over again. We survived and had another perfect baby girl a year and a half later. When she was born I said, "She looks just like her sister!" (Except for the little dimple in her chin.) We have been honored to sit with other parents who were thrown into the same stormy sea. I have had so many people say to me, "I was there that night." Those people whom I never really saw but was aware of. They watched. And they were touched by the faith they saw in us. You see, as we held each other and cried, they watched. As we prayed and asked God why, they listened. As we grieved and mourned, they saw how God comforted us. They saw the peace that flooded my room and our souls. God made his presence known to so many.
I'll never forget the day when a friend I hadn't seen in a while looked at her teen daughter and said, "This is the lady who had the baby I named you after." My experience was in August, and in February this beautiful young lady came into our lives. Her mom probably doesn't know, but when they called to tell me she was born, I sat in the floor and ummm, shall we just say, had a long and emotional talk with the Lord about the fairness of it all. I remember her asking if I cared if she used a name, but I never knew why. They will never know how touched I was to hear that she was named after my child.
Funny story and confession time. That same friend walked with me through this horror while she was pregnant. I'm sure that was hard on her. One day we were in a fabric store to buy fabric for her to make the curtains for her nursery. It was maybe four or five weeks after the funeral. When the older lady was measuring and cutting her fabric, she innocently looked at me and asked when I was going to have children. I guess it hit me wrong. I confess I didn't show much Jesus at that moment. I looked at that poor lady and said, "I just did. She died." Oh dear! My friend looked at me and gasped. I really couldn't believe I said it. But, just in case you had the mistaken impression that I handled it all perfectly, I wanted to tell you that.
It's been twenty-seven years. Sometimes it's almost unreal. Sometimes it's too real. Through it I learned that God will never leave you or forsake you. When things are harder than you ever imagine they could be, he is stronger.
I don't know why, but this year I was driven to share. So, my friend whoever you are, if you are reading this and going through or are remembering that most difficult day in your life, please let me encourage you to lean on the Lord. He is there. He will carry you through. There is nothing too big for him.
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