It’s been nearly a year since I’ve written, since I’ve documented “Kelty Life.” I think the posts I left last February kind of wiped me out for a while. Or rather, I scraped every word from the bottom of the barrel and I simply had nothing left to say. For some time I’ve been wanting to pluck the keys, not really sure what I wanted (needed) to write, just possessing the urge to do so. I could say a lot about our crazy family life, but I am noticing that I feel my connection to the internet world is better served by offering myself (however helpful or not helpful it may be) to mothers…the ones who find themselves clinging to a blood stained blanket, a foot print or even an ultrasound photo…the physical remains of your beloved baby. Or the mothers who have lost babies but have other children at home (whether born before or after the child you’ve lost). How do we move on, charge ahead in life and faith with the weight of grief, and its surmounting questions, heavy on our bodies and in our hearts???
As February approaches (Anna’s 6th birthday on the horizon) I find myself wanting to share a bit about where my grief and hope have settled. Today is John’s fifth birthday, born eleven months after the loss of Anna. I wrote him a letter just now. The idea is to write my children one (or several each year, Anna included) to be compiled into a book I will eventually give them when they are grown. In Anna’s case, when I enter the kingdom, I pray I find it in my hands as well. As I read back over the words, it occurred to me that this was what I wanted to share…this letter to John kind of encapsulates where I find myself now in grief and hope and in relationship with Jesus as a mom who tends to the needs of her living children, coping with the one that is lost (not really) and charging ahead in this unpredictable world.
The last year has brought emails and phone calls delivering great news of life and celebration and yet also the grievous news of loss as well. As I sit here typing, I am being thumped and kicked by baby boy number three, marveling at his 26 weeks of life and knowing all the while, “this could all be over in an instant.” As I sit here, the list is a long one of those I love (some I know, some I don’t) who know all too well the bitterness of their own tears, the names of their lost children hanging in the air above them; a new banner of existence. Welcome to a life of grief, a life where the longing for your child and every other human emotion that arises from that pain is your new way of living. Is that how it feels? I remember saying at one point that my name was no longer simply Kate, but rather, “Kate, the mother of dead Anna.” Her death defined me. My very existence and uniqueness was lost in the loss of her. And that was okay, for that season of my life, for that season of my grief. It was an important stage in my healing journey and ultimately my future with grief to be able to identify myself in this way. My definition has been altered in these past few years and I find myself joyfully proclaiming, “My name is Kate, the mother of living Anna…let’s talk about HOPE!!!”
For those of you who don’t know, I’ve spent the past couple of years writing “our story” (mine and Anna’s). Now, 16 chapters and an Epilogue are compiled into a manuscript with the title “The Jesus of my Grief” boldly gracing the cover. Who knows what will happen. I know my prayer always comes back to these lyrics from a beloved worship song:
“Break my heart for what breaks yours, everything I am for your kingdom cause…as I walk from earth into eternity.”
I am 100% burdened with crazy compassion for those who suffered as I did with the added pain to grief of not knowing the Love of the one they call Savior. That’s what it boiled down to for me. I ache for all those who suffer the loss of their children while questioning (and rightfully so) the love of God. Are you asking or have you ever wondered, “How can God’s LOVE and GOODNESS be inserted into this tragic equation I find myself living in?” I TESTIFY: there is powerful healing and comfort that comes from being saturated in His love. I assure you I came to discover it through the biggest, longest God fight of my life. What made it all the harder was that I thought I already fully knew the love of God which allowed me to be able to defend my position that it was lacking…“seriously flawed God.” That was my position. Oh my was I wrong…..I pray I have the opportunity to put my story out there as a testimony to the depths one can travel in the grief pit and the heights one can soar in God’s love.
But for now…I will leave you with this letter to John:
January 23, 2011
Johnny,
Today you are five years old….There are so many emotions and feelings that come with this day…the majority being a whole lot of gratitude. Do you know my sweet boy that you are exceptional? You really are. The way God designed you, all of you, is beautiful and remarkable and fascinating. You represent so much to me, to your daddy and to our family. We are so blessed to have you as our very own little guy to raise into the man God has dreamed up just for you. As your dad prayed last night at your birthday dinner, this day represents so much more than celebrating you, it represents the celebration of the faithfulness of God!
I could write a lot about what I am hoping and praying for you in the next year of your life, with kindergarten on the horizon and all the wonderful (and scary) changes that you are getting ready to encounter. But instead I want to share with you a conversation we had last night and the prayer it left me with for you, a life prayer if you will.
The conversation:
“Mommy, what if everyone in the world dies and only one person is left?” I opened my mouth to respond and then you blurted out, “Mommy, will I die before you or will you die before me?” “Such big questions for a little guy” I said. I tried my best to give an answer and then became frustrated at my inability to respond to inquiries that often end up in very difficult conclusions…questions that simply require faith. So I said, “Why don’t you just look at my eyes” (this was certainly prompted by the Holy Spirit because I had no idea what would happen, or even what I would say when it did). You hesitated for a minute and then found yourself locked into my love staring back at you and peace fell over you. That delighted little smile that somehow seems to tickle your whole body and not just your mouth permeated your entire being. “Amazing,” I thought. And then I heard myself say, “See that?” The whole body smile continued. “Just let yourself rest knowing you are safe with me and that you are loved.” That seemed to satisfy you. But I left your room wondering, who is this little man all wrapped up in five year old skin? And how Lord, can I be the best mama to John Kelty that I can be? Sometimes I feel so ill-equipped.
In you I see worry, ( your mama relates) worry undeniably that comes from living in the world and for knowing so much already at your tender age…knowing the death of your infant sister and trying to process sin in your little heart and mind. In you I see curiosity, an eagerness to know and understand life and God and how things work. I also see a place where surrender is needed in order to know peace and trust! This has become my fifth birthday prayer for you…mighty mighty faith in your Savior so that you can eventually not simply live in the world, but live on top of it, testifying to those around you, a God so full of grace, in a graceless world.
When Anna died, your dad and I went through the darkest days of our life. It was also the season where I asked more questions about God and life than I ever had before. I NEEDED answers! Answers that made sense, answers that could calm and even eradicate the grief from my heart. In the end, the answer that satisfied was actually an experience. There was a day when I stared into the face of God, and finally found myself at home in the safety of belonging to Him and somehow there was no more doubt… HE was in fact, PERFECT! The need for answers dissipated when I found myself saturated in holy love. That’s what happened to you last night Johnny when I silenced your worried heart with the fullness of my love for you…the safety of belonging to me and knowing I loved you rescued your worried heart and invited you into peace. The need for answers to calm your fears was no longer needed…you found love instead.
There was one more part to that conversation:
“John I have one more secret I want to share with you before you go to bed on this last last night of being four.” And I whispered, “The day you were born was the greatest day of my life.” You sweetly replied, “Aww mom, I’m going to tell everyone you said that…I mean, even strangers.”
That’s the other thing I see in you Johnny, total enthusiasm to share with others what you know and feel to be true. Again, I can’t help but to smile with anticipation as I wonder about the plans God has for you.
Thank you baby for reminding me today, as I carry your baby brother in his sixth month of life, as I find myself worrying about the cruelty that awaits you in Elementary school and the fear of letting you drive a car for the first time, that Jesus is always the answer to every worry and every fear that creeps our way…Jesus! His simple name is the answer that gives way to the whole body smile. The fullness of being loved, IS actually an answer. And thank you for reminding me that TRUTH (a love that makes us feel so good) is worth sharing, even to strangers!
It took me a long time to surrender to this kind of faith, probably because it took me a long time to know Jesus for who He really is. Your life will not always be easy. As I sit here, I am already swept over with incalculable compassion and tenderness for those moments in your life…and yet I know the best gift I can give you is an up close and personal view at a relationship with Jesus that is a remedy for living in this shattered world. May you believe that and fight for it on the days when it’s hard to feel and see… when trauma and pain cloud His face from your vision. He is always there without flaw or defect, however flawed the world or the enemy may trick you into thinking He is. The eyes of Jesus eyes contain more peace than a thousand answers could hold! So keep being the little philosopher and theologian that you are…but know that no ounce of knowledge will ever grip you stronger than the experience of being at home within His love in your most fragile state… “For when you are weak, then I am strong!”
Happy Birthday John John! May you find yourself always just a blink away from the eyes of your Savior, a moment away from the richness of belonging to the God who has already written the final winning chapter!
I am yours…always,
Mama
Peace and Hope to each of you my mama friends wading through the fog of loss to find the face of JESUS!
Kate
Our favorite spot…the trains…so much fun…so many germs! I’m sure the kids will have someehting gross by tomorrow.
I don’t know exactly why, but “Monkey Girl” has always been my nickname for Bethy! She turned five this past Friday…and I can’t belive it. She is in kindergarten this year and seems so grown up! I don’t really have much to say except that I adore her and I am so glad that my nieces live in Harrisonburg so that I can go to their birthday parties!
