As human beings we tend to ask "Why?" a lot. It seems like we are always looking for someone to blame. And it makes me crazy - especially in politics. Sometimes we never get an answer to "Why?" and truthfully, most of the time, it truly doesn't matter. As my dad always says, "I don't care who is to blame, I just want a solution."And as Tom Hanks says in Sleepless in Seattle, "There was nothing anyone could do. And it's not fair. But if we start asking why, we'll go crazy." Can you see how these things go together? As I'm typing it out I'm not sure it makes sense - it is almost 2 am, after all. But I just got an answer of "why" and felt I needed to record it.
On the day between finding out our little baby, Sam, had no heartbeat and going in for a d & c we struggled....a lot. It is awful to have 2 days to think. It's awful to try to explain to your kids why Mom and Dad are crying and robotic and don't really care about much of anything you say. It's awful to see all the posts on Facebook talking about what Planned Parenthood is doing. I think there was a part of Sam that wondered if that's what the d & c was like. Maybe not. But it seemed that he was extremely distressed by the idea of a d & c. Maybe he just didn't know what that was. I know he desperately wanted the doctor to be wrong. We decided to visit with our bishop on that Wednesday night. It was a meeting with a lot of tears and a lot of compassion from our wonderful bishop. He gave Sam a blessing and that seemed to change everything for Sam. That was when I knew Sam would be ok. The bishop told us it was ok to ask "why" and, that if we asked in prayer, God would let us know in His time. I remember feeling like that was a weird thing to say. I thought "why doesn't matter" and "it won't change anything" and "there isn't anyone to blame" and probably a lot of other things too. But his words stuck with me.
Not long ago I was visiting with my neighbor/visiting teacher/Relief Society president and she said the same thing - that it was ok to ask God "why" and expect an answer. She used almost the same words the bishop did. That's when I decided maybe I needed to ask "why." So I did. In the temple the other night. I prayed and cried sitting in the celestial room. I had already been thinking about how thin the veil is between heaven and earth and to be in that room just confirmed it. I prayed and told God what I had been told, twice, and that I wasn't sure it mattered if I knew why. But that if I needed to know, to please tell me. And I didn't receive an answer there in the temple. It wasn't until tonight about 1:30 after we'd been woken up by our dog when some neighborhood dogs came into our yard and caused a racket.
As I was trying to go back to sleep I snuggled the blanket I am making for baby Sam. I was thinking about what I had been told. Then suddenly, almost as if someone was talking, I heard/thought, "It was because HE needed this."
It may not sound like much of an answer. I suppose it really doesn't answer why this happened to me. But for whatever reason, baby Sam needed this experience. He was so perfect he only needed to be on the earth for 11 weeks. And this experience is at least as much for him as it is for me.
After we found out there was no heartbeat he was so close. Every time I even started thinking about him I could see his little round face and blond head in my mind. He was right there. Then after the d & c he was gone. I could still see the same background in my mind - but he was missing. That might sound creepy or weird. But it didn't feel that way to me. I guess it was the way I knew he was truly not on earth any more. I felt like he kept telling me not to worry about him. And, I felt him learning. I truly felt like he was completely gone for several days. Like he might even be slightly frustrated that I kept wishing he would be close to me. I kept trying to tell him I wasn't worried about him, I wasn't even sad for him. I was sad and worried for me. And he came back. He's not ever present in my mind now, but he is sticking close. I believe this was something he had to learn about mortal beings. It truly felt devastating that he was just gone. I often feel Lily close - but he was just....gone. And he didn't really want me to call him back. But I can tell he is learning. He has been closer lately. I don't really know how to describe it. I can tell he's there sometimes. Like right now. And now we both know that this trial happened to us because he needed to learn something.
That's not to say I can't learn anything from this trial. I certainly can. I'm not truly sure what I am supposed to get out of this trial, yet. And maybe that's what I can pray for next - when my spirit is ready to know. Truthfully, why doesn't seem to matter to me this time around. I remember wondering why a lot when we lost Lily. It didn't help that it was Christmas time and everyone kept talking about baby Jesus and his miraculous birth. I found myself focusing a lot on why could God save Jesus, but not my baby. I learned over a long period of time that it was a lot bigger than just why God didn't save my baby. I needed to learn from that experience - and I learned a lot. I never would have started a closet for angel clothes, written patterns for angel clothes, or joined Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep if I hadn't known there was a need. I needed to know there was a need that I could fulfill. Something I could do that not many people could. These things have brought a LOT into my life. And I wouldn't trade those things I know. That doesn't mean I don't wish my sweet Lily was on earth with me, I do. I wish she was here. But I know I wouldn't be the person I am today if she was here. And that knowledge gives me some peace. I don't know if it made sense typing it out - have I mentioned it's about 2 am - but it does give me peace. I finally found "why" to that trial after searching and asking for several years.
Knowing why doesn't change anything, but it can bring peace. And I have peace tonight. I know at least part of why we lost baby Sam. HE needed this trial. HE needed to learn about mortal beings, and since his life was so short, he is learning a lot through me, through being my child that I love and miss and wish was here with me. Someday I am sure I will have the eternal perspective that won't wish things were different. But I am missing that right now. I wish I could hold my perfect little ones (they are not babies in heaven - they are kids that are growing and changing). But I know that God has a plan. I try to remember that, and it's really hard sometimes. But someday we will all be together and this trial won't seem so long and hard. And until then, when I feel really down and needing to be with my babies, I can visit the temple where the veil between heaven and earth is especially thin.
Showing posts with label LDS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LDS. Show all posts
Monday, August 31, 2015
Monday, January 13, 2014
When Mommy Has to Say Goodbye
The other night my husband watched a movie trailer; a movie that has been a huge hit in box offices this month. It is the story of a soldier who ends up being the sole survivor of his group. That preview made me cry, possibly thanks to crazy hormones...but I just kept thinking about all those babies who didn't return home to their mommies. And I cried. I cried for all those mommies who lost their babies that day. You see, I've come to the conclusion that no mommy should every have to say a final goodbye to her baby.
Just over 5 years ago we lost our first baby at what should have been 1/4 of the way through the pregnancy. It was Christmas time. Especially in church and in songs we heard a lot about the miracle of Christ's birth. In my grief all I could think was that it wasn't fair that Mary got to have her baby, and I didn't get to have mine. It was a rough Christmas. Shortly after Christmas I was listening to a song (at the insistence of some family members) about a soldier who didn't return home to his mother. Several of us were in tears. One mother in the room mentioned how hard it was to hear that song while having a son over-seas, not military related. And another cut in that it was even harder to have a son who had served in the military. I wanted to scream at them both. The one line of the song I remember talked about memories and pictures being all that was left to remember her child by. At least they HAD memories to remember their child by. I suppose grief is sometimes narrow-minded - I hadn't come to the realization yet that no mommy every wants to say that final goodbye to her baby.
A little over a year later a Marine from my hometown was killed in Afghanistan. I hadn't met him before, but knew his parents. I remember the moment the realization hit. Another mommy had had to say goodbye to her baby. My son was not yet 5 months old at the time and I remember going into his room and watching him sleep with tears streaming down my face. This time I wasn't crying for myself. I was crying for another mommy who had to say that final goodbye to her baby. He may have been in his 20s, but most moms will agree that their children are always their babies, no matter how old they are.
In the past 4 years I've met a lot of mothers who have had to say goodbye to their children. And I realize, even more strongly now, that no mommy ever wants to have to say goodbye to their baby. All of our experiences are different, and there's really no way to say what experience is hardest; a miscarriage, a stillbirth, a little one who couldn't live without machines, a tragic accident, cancer, war....and so many, many other things that take lives. Sometimes the mommy has passed on before the child, and I'm certain there are a great many reunions in heaven. But sometimes a mommy is required to stay on earth without her baby. And it just isn't fair. There are a lot of things in life that aren't "fair" and never will be. Today I'm specifically writing about one unfair thing that is especially close to my heart.
We never know how long we might get. It may be just a few days or weeks, it may be months or years, but ultimately, we never feel it is enough time. We feel cheated, I imagine, no matter how much time we have. Personally, I have only experienced one type of loss, that of a child we never got to see. And I know there are people out there who think a loss that early shouldn't matter that much, but it does to me. I picture her as a 5 year old with blond hair and blue eyes. She is sweet and kind and a perfect child who I have never argued with or been frustrated with. Perhaps they are silly daydreams. But she is real to me. And I fully believe that someday we will get to have her as part of our family. She inspires me and helps me to help other families who are having to say that final goodbye to their tiny babies as well. There are still hard days, days when my heart feels like it's been ripped out of my chest and I can barely breath and I don't know how I can go on missing my baby so much. But there are so many good days now. I often feel especially close to my sweet angel when I have a chance to visit with other angels though volunteering with Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep.
Sometimes I come home from a visit with an angel and I cry and cry. But I no longer only just cry for myself. I've been able to let go of the hurt I feel knowing other mommies got to hold their little ones, even for just a little while. It truly doesn't hurt me any more. I still wish my baby was here, but I know that just because I didn't get to hold my baby doesn't make my experience any harder or easier than these other mommies face. Having to say goodbye to your baby is a hard thing...no matter the circumstances.
And other mommies can, and do, understand this grief. Mary, the mother of Christ, can understand my hurt over losing my baby. The mother of the Marine from my home town can understand my heartache. There are mothers all over the world who have said goodbye to their babies, and they can all understand that grief. And of course, Christ understands better than anyone. How grateful I am for his sacrifice that he might be able to truly know each heartache we suffer. I don't know how it works, but I believe it does. I keep this picture to remind that even if I can't be holding my baby today, Christ is taking good care of her.
Someday we will all be together again, and what glorious reunions await in heaven for all those mothers and babies. I imagine it will be a truly beautiful day.
Just over 5 years ago we lost our first baby at what should have been 1/4 of the way through the pregnancy. It was Christmas time. Especially in church and in songs we heard a lot about the miracle of Christ's birth. In my grief all I could think was that it wasn't fair that Mary got to have her baby, and I didn't get to have mine. It was a rough Christmas. Shortly after Christmas I was listening to a song (at the insistence of some family members) about a soldier who didn't return home to his mother. Several of us were in tears. One mother in the room mentioned how hard it was to hear that song while having a son over-seas, not military related. And another cut in that it was even harder to have a son who had served in the military. I wanted to scream at them both. The one line of the song I remember talked about memories and pictures being all that was left to remember her child by. At least they HAD memories to remember their child by. I suppose grief is sometimes narrow-minded - I hadn't come to the realization yet that no mommy every wants to say that final goodbye to her baby.
A little over a year later a Marine from my hometown was killed in Afghanistan. I hadn't met him before, but knew his parents. I remember the moment the realization hit. Another mommy had had to say goodbye to her baby. My son was not yet 5 months old at the time and I remember going into his room and watching him sleep with tears streaming down my face. This time I wasn't crying for myself. I was crying for another mommy who had to say that final goodbye to her baby. He may have been in his 20s, but most moms will agree that their children are always their babies, no matter how old they are.
In the past 4 years I've met a lot of mothers who have had to say goodbye to their children. And I realize, even more strongly now, that no mommy ever wants to have to say goodbye to their baby. All of our experiences are different, and there's really no way to say what experience is hardest; a miscarriage, a stillbirth, a little one who couldn't live without machines, a tragic accident, cancer, war....and so many, many other things that take lives. Sometimes the mommy has passed on before the child, and I'm certain there are a great many reunions in heaven. But sometimes a mommy is required to stay on earth without her baby. And it just isn't fair. There are a lot of things in life that aren't "fair" and never will be. Today I'm specifically writing about one unfair thing that is especially close to my heart.
We never know how long we might get. It may be just a few days or weeks, it may be months or years, but ultimately, we never feel it is enough time. We feel cheated, I imagine, no matter how much time we have. Personally, I have only experienced one type of loss, that of a child we never got to see. And I know there are people out there who think a loss that early shouldn't matter that much, but it does to me. I picture her as a 5 year old with blond hair and blue eyes. She is sweet and kind and a perfect child who I have never argued with or been frustrated with. Perhaps they are silly daydreams. But she is real to me. And I fully believe that someday we will get to have her as part of our family. She inspires me and helps me to help other families who are having to say that final goodbye to their tiny babies as well. There are still hard days, days when my heart feels like it's been ripped out of my chest and I can barely breath and I don't know how I can go on missing my baby so much. But there are so many good days now. I often feel especially close to my sweet angel when I have a chance to visit with other angels though volunteering with Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep.
Sometimes I come home from a visit with an angel and I cry and cry. But I no longer only just cry for myself. I've been able to let go of the hurt I feel knowing other mommies got to hold their little ones, even for just a little while. It truly doesn't hurt me any more. I still wish my baby was here, but I know that just because I didn't get to hold my baby doesn't make my experience any harder or easier than these other mommies face. Having to say goodbye to your baby is a hard thing...no matter the circumstances.
And other mommies can, and do, understand this grief. Mary, the mother of Christ, can understand my hurt over losing my baby. The mother of the Marine from my home town can understand my heartache. There are mothers all over the world who have said goodbye to their babies, and they can all understand that grief. And of course, Christ understands better than anyone. How grateful I am for his sacrifice that he might be able to truly know each heartache we suffer. I don't know how it works, but I believe it does. I keep this picture to remind that even if I can't be holding my baby today, Christ is taking good care of her.
In the Arms of His Love - Del Parson
Someday we will all be together again, and what glorious reunions await in heaven for all those mothers and babies. I imagine it will be a truly beautiful day.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
I am a missionary!
I am grateful for dreams. Not necessarily dreams you have when you're sleeping (I had one the other night that a friend and I were Pony Express style thieves - stealing angel baby outfits...it was hilarious!) but the dreams of the future. I love talking with Sam about the things we'll someday do. I suppose there is some danger of saying "Someday I'll do ______" and then never doing it. But truth be told - we can't do everything we can dream right now.
Last night after his mission reunion we talked about going to Africa someday. I told him I plan to take an extra suitcase full of deflated soccer balls and bicycle hand pumps so I can give every little kid I see over there a ball. Do you know that having a ball is kind of a status symbol for those kids? They make their own balls out of plastic grocery sacks all wrapped together. Sam made one to show for a Primary thing. It is a very hard ball! More than anything the kids want to have a ball to play with. Sam has even kicked the idea around of an Eagle project to send balls over to Zambia, where he served. He said if the missionaries had balls to hand out to the kids they would get so many people listening to them. Not that they are finding that extremely hard - Zimbabwe was the highest baptizing mission in 2011 - over 3000 baptisms in Zimbabwe alone! Liz Lemon Swindle has a series of paintings she is doing of African children with Christ. I have this one - so far it's my favorite:
In July of 2007 Sam sent this email home:
Hello to all friends and familyWe had an interesting activity on Sunday. I don't know how many of you have heard of mother's without Borders. It is a program that runs an orphanage over here but is run by a member from Utah. Every year they bring over three separate groups of volunteers to help with different things. It is an amazing thing. This is now the third group this year and in it are two very important people. They always come to our branch so it is a bit weird to see so many white people around. Last sunday as we were greeting people there were several college age BYU girls that kind of is strange to see, but in the mix were a few older couples. Then coming along was a man in his mid thirties who had shoulder length hair and a full beard. That is not a popular picture in the church anywhere and thus I was a bit taken back. During priesthood he sat in front of me and I was unnerved. Oh well I brushed it off. This week we found out that there was going to be a district fireside by a woman named Liz Swindle. She had come over on the trip for some special reason. As we sat down and she started to speak I noticed the same long haired man sitting on the stand. As she began to speak I learned that she is a popular artist in Utah. She specializes in pictures of the Savior. She is also involved in a project with Kenneth Cope. It will come out to be about 60 pictures. The one she is working on now and the reason she is here in Zambia is to do a painting of the Savior with African children. Lo and behold the long haired man turned out to be her model for the Savior, and the one who would be painted. What an idiot I felt like. To have judged prematurely on something that I didn't know. It just goes to show that you can never see what is in a persons heart. It taught me a very important lesson. I am looking forward to see the actual painting. It should be done in December. Well love to all.Elder Robbins
I have this picture now and every time I see it I am reminded of not judging people - and that someday I want to go to Zambia and meet children like these boys - and take balls to them. It is a someday dream. There is no way I could afford it right now - and maybe not for years. But it is a dream I keep in my heart for someday.
The main someday dream I have is to serve a mission. I grew up certain I would serve a mission. I grew nearly angry when people would tell me I didn't have to go - because I always wanted to go. With 4 brothers younger than me our FHE lessons would often include, "When the boys go on their missions..." and I would always add that I was going too. I didn't like hearing that I didn't need to serve a mission. I would do it! When I received my Patriarchal blessing the Patriarch said I could even serve a full time mission - and he sounded shocked. I kind of laughed thinking I would definitely serve a mission! The year I turned 19 I was so lonely - so many of my best friends were out on missions and I still had 2 full years to wait! It was a hard summer. And I kept preparing.
And then Sam came home from his mission and suddenly I realized there was a different mission in mind me for me. Despite my desires to serve a full-time mission there was something else in the works for my life. It wasn't easy to change my desires. When Sam asked me to marry him I nearly cried when I told him that if we got married I wouldn't be able to serve a mission right now. Then I told him, "If I marry you now you HAVE to promise to take me on a mission someday." He looked a little bit stunned (I had already said yes to the proposal though - this was the next day) and said, "of course!" I think he suddenly realized how set my heart had been on serving a mission. But it was a turning point for me. It wasn't that I wasn't getting to serve a mission - it was serving a different kind of mission. My new mission was a family.
And what an amazing mission these last (nearly) 5 years have been!
There have been trials. There have been ups. There have been downs. There have been chances to restore my testimony. There have been times I wonder if my testimony exists at all. It is a life long mission. I have the opportunity to share the gospel with those around me. I am not knocking on doors finding people to convert. But there are some people in my home who don't understand much about the gospel yet...my two boys. I'm sure they came down with some of that heavenly knowledge - but by now they don't remember all of it. They don't know how things work in the church. They don't know how to form their own testimonies. There is so much they don't know.
And I am the missionary sent to teach them. I have a fantastic missionary companion who also helps me teach great lessons. We get to teach about eternal families. We get to teach about being kind. We get to teach stories from the scriptures. We are missionaries! I never imagined some of the lessons we would teach....recently there was a lesson about getting married in the temple that included that you couldn't marry your brother. We don't wear name badges - but we are called by special names, "Mom" and "Dad" and we are missionaries!
I can't describe how my heart sings when my 3 year old prays at every blessing on the food "Bless that we all get mission calls and go on missions." Oh yes, I laugh a little too because he has at least 15 years to wait on that one and I'll have years more than that - but what a great someday dream! I have been thinking recently how my grandma would have especially loved my 3 year old - with his random chatter and matter-of-fact conversations and his dreams of serving a mission. He talks about serving a mission like he talks about his next birthday. He wears a Future Missionary tag to church every Sunday - and he does so very proudly. Grandma would have loved all of these things about him! Every time I see Senior Couples who are serving/have served a mission I think of my grandma. She loved missionary work with all her heart! She served 7 missions in her lifetime - not including her life's mission and family.
The mission reunion last night reminded me of my someday dream of serving a full-time mission. Oh and wouldn't it be great to be in Zambia on a mission!?! Not to mention hundreds of wonderful other places around the world. Someday I will serve a full-time mission! And for now - I will serve a full-time family mission. I spend all my time teaching the gospel to my two boys. My example is the best way I teach them. I am a missionary! I look forward to that day when I can be called on a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I anticipate reading that letter that says "Dear Elder and Sister Robbins you are here-by called to serve as missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints..." It is going to be an amazing day! I also anticipate the days I will be hearing my boys read their mission calls aloud. We are a missionary oriented family. I saw a quote once that said "In this family we do missions!" I need to find/make something with that quote to hang in my home. Because we do missions! This is a family mission and our goal is to have each member of our family ready to return to our Heavenly Father so we can all sit around the dinner table in heaven with no empty seats. It is a lofty goal, indeed. But it is our someday dream. And that's why I am a missionary now - I am a missionary to my family. What a wonderful mission!
Last night after his mission reunion we talked about going to Africa someday. I told him I plan to take an extra suitcase full of deflated soccer balls and bicycle hand pumps so I can give every little kid I see over there a ball. Do you know that having a ball is kind of a status symbol for those kids? They make their own balls out of plastic grocery sacks all wrapped together. Sam made one to show for a Primary thing. It is a very hard ball! More than anything the kids want to have a ball to play with. Sam has even kicked the idea around of an Eagle project to send balls over to Zambia, where he served. He said if the missionaries had balls to hand out to the kids they would get so many people listening to them. Not that they are finding that extremely hard - Zimbabwe was the highest baptizing mission in 2011 - over 3000 baptisms in Zimbabwe alone! Liz Lemon Swindle has a series of paintings she is doing of African children with Christ. I have this one - so far it's my favorite:
Click on the picture to read the story behind this picture - it is so sweet!
Hello to all friends and familyWe had an interesting activity on Sunday. I don't know how many of you have heard of mother's without Borders. It is a program that runs an orphanage over here but is run by a member from Utah. Every year they bring over three separate groups of volunteers to help with different things. It is an amazing thing. This is now the third group this year and in it are two very important people. They always come to our branch so it is a bit weird to see so many white people around. Last sunday as we were greeting people there were several college age BYU girls that kind of is strange to see, but in the mix were a few older couples. Then coming along was a man in his mid thirties who had shoulder length hair and a full beard. That is not a popular picture in the church anywhere and thus I was a bit taken back. During priesthood he sat in front of me and I was unnerved. Oh well I brushed it off. This week we found out that there was going to be a district fireside by a woman named Liz Swindle. She had come over on the trip for some special reason. As we sat down and she started to speak I noticed the same long haired man sitting on the stand. As she began to speak I learned that she is a popular artist in Utah. She specializes in pictures of the Savior. She is also involved in a project with Kenneth Cope. It will come out to be about 60 pictures. The one she is working on now and the reason she is here in Zambia is to do a painting of the Savior with African children. Lo and behold the long haired man turned out to be her model for the Savior, and the one who would be painted. What an idiot I felt like. To have judged prematurely on something that I didn't know. It just goes to show that you can never see what is in a persons heart. It taught me a very important lesson. I am looking forward to see the actual painting. It should be done in December. Well love to all.Elder Robbins
I have this picture now and every time I see it I am reminded of not judging people - and that someday I want to go to Zambia and meet children like these boys - and take balls to them. It is a someday dream. There is no way I could afford it right now - and maybe not for years. But it is a dream I keep in my heart for someday.
The main someday dream I have is to serve a mission. I grew up certain I would serve a mission. I grew nearly angry when people would tell me I didn't have to go - because I always wanted to go. With 4 brothers younger than me our FHE lessons would often include, "When the boys go on their missions..." and I would always add that I was going too. I didn't like hearing that I didn't need to serve a mission. I would do it! When I received my Patriarchal blessing the Patriarch said I could even serve a full time mission - and he sounded shocked. I kind of laughed thinking I would definitely serve a mission! The year I turned 19 I was so lonely - so many of my best friends were out on missions and I still had 2 full years to wait! It was a hard summer. And I kept preparing.
And then Sam came home from his mission and suddenly I realized there was a different mission in mind me for me. Despite my desires to serve a full-time mission there was something else in the works for my life. It wasn't easy to change my desires. When Sam asked me to marry him I nearly cried when I told him that if we got married I wouldn't be able to serve a mission right now. Then I told him, "If I marry you now you HAVE to promise to take me on a mission someday." He looked a little bit stunned (I had already said yes to the proposal though - this was the next day) and said, "of course!" I think he suddenly realized how set my heart had been on serving a mission. But it was a turning point for me. It wasn't that I wasn't getting to serve a mission - it was serving a different kind of mission. My new mission was a family.
And what an amazing mission these last (nearly) 5 years have been!
There have been trials. There have been ups. There have been downs. There have been chances to restore my testimony. There have been times I wonder if my testimony exists at all. It is a life long mission. I have the opportunity to share the gospel with those around me. I am not knocking on doors finding people to convert. But there are some people in my home who don't understand much about the gospel yet...my two boys. I'm sure they came down with some of that heavenly knowledge - but by now they don't remember all of it. They don't know how things work in the church. They don't know how to form their own testimonies. There is so much they don't know.
And I am the missionary sent to teach them. I have a fantastic missionary companion who also helps me teach great lessons. We get to teach about eternal families. We get to teach about being kind. We get to teach stories from the scriptures. We are missionaries! I never imagined some of the lessons we would teach....recently there was a lesson about getting married in the temple that included that you couldn't marry your brother. We don't wear name badges - but we are called by special names, "Mom" and "Dad" and we are missionaries!
I can't describe how my heart sings when my 3 year old prays at every blessing on the food "Bless that we all get mission calls and go on missions." Oh yes, I laugh a little too because he has at least 15 years to wait on that one and I'll have years more than that - but what a great someday dream! I have been thinking recently how my grandma would have especially loved my 3 year old - with his random chatter and matter-of-fact conversations and his dreams of serving a mission. He talks about serving a mission like he talks about his next birthday. He wears a Future Missionary tag to church every Sunday - and he does so very proudly. Grandma would have loved all of these things about him! Every time I see Senior Couples who are serving/have served a mission I think of my grandma. She loved missionary work with all her heart! She served 7 missions in her lifetime - not including her life's mission and family.
The mission reunion last night reminded me of my someday dream of serving a full-time mission. Oh and wouldn't it be great to be in Zambia on a mission!?! Not to mention hundreds of wonderful other places around the world. Someday I will serve a full-time mission! And for now - I will serve a full-time family mission. I spend all my time teaching the gospel to my two boys. My example is the best way I teach them. I am a missionary! I look forward to that day when I can be called on a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I anticipate reading that letter that says "Dear Elder and Sister Robbins you are here-by called to serve as missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints..." It is going to be an amazing day! I also anticipate the days I will be hearing my boys read their mission calls aloud. We are a missionary oriented family. I saw a quote once that said "In this family we do missions!" I need to find/make something with that quote to hang in my home. Because we do missions! This is a family mission and our goal is to have each member of our family ready to return to our Heavenly Father so we can all sit around the dinner table in heaven with no empty seats. It is a lofty goal, indeed. But it is our someday dream. And that's why I am a missionary now - I am a missionary to my family. What a wonderful mission!
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
For Lillian
My dear, sweet baby girl,
How is it you have been gone nearly 4 years? Sometimes it seems time is flying so quickly I can't imagine how you've been gone that long. Other times I'm completely blind sided by how much I ache for you still. You have been on my mind a lot this past year. A friend started me on a project to crochet tiny outfits for stillborn babies. These outfits usually fit a baby who made it to 20 weeks. It's hard to believe you didn't even make it that long.
Last night I was talking to Dad and telling him how unfair I felt it was that you were gone so quickly. I feel you are very real to us but it seems like the world passed right by you without even hesitating a second. I felt as though I had no physical connections to you. You were gone so quickly you didn't even have a need for a single blanket. You didn't even make it to your first Christmas so the tiny stocking I got to put up for you sat in a drawer and still haunts me. But I have always wanted something that was yours. I have one ultrasound picture and that's it. No one made you anything. I didn't even make you anything. No blankets, no outfits, no tiny hats - nothing. I was never able to hold you in my arms or kiss your tiny head or have a single picture taken of you. Sometimes I am jealous of those mommies who have those things. At the time I may have felt differently - that it would have been easier to lose you before I could see you. But I don't feel that way now. Part of me wishes there was a tiny stone in a cemetery to mark your birth. Somewhere I could put pinwheels in the spring. Somewhere to sit and cry and wish you were with me. Is that awful of me to wish I had that?
I told Dad last night that it made me angry that you were gone so quickly that we didn't even have a chance to name you. You've just been 'the other baby' - and it's been 4 years. Dad asked me last night if I wanted to give you a name. We've known you were a girl since the night we lost you. Dad gave me a special blessing saying that "Heavenly Father is watching out for your daughter." We had been talking about names since we found out you were on your way, but we only had one we liked, a girl's name. Dad told me last night he's always thought you had a name - that one name we liked. The name had been brought up for each of your brothers, had they been girls, but neither of us have wanted to use it. I realize last night maybe that's because it's just supposed to be your name.
Lillian Jane Robbins
Perhaps you've known all along that's your name. Do you know why we picked it? Lillian is just a beautiful name. And lilies are my favorite flowers. We planned to call you Lily most of the time. We wanted you to have Lillian in case you wanted to be something that needed an official name on the sign out front. Jane comes from a nickname my grandma gave me - Tasty Jane. She always called me that. Rumor has it that she really wanted my parents to name me Jane and they didn't want to. And when I was little I said my name more like "Tasty" than "Stacy." I bet you've met her. She passed away 2 years ago. I miss her a lot. I hope you two are watching out for each other. She can teach you so many great things. You may be the only one of my children to really know her for a while, so I hope you take that opportunity to learn from her. She is a great example.
I suppose I do have one thing for you - a picture of Christ holding a baby. It has been packed away since we've been moving and it hasn't been out for over a year. I'm missing that painting. It reminds me that even though it hurts to be separated from you now that we will be together someday. The first time I saw the picture in Deseret Book I started crying almost instantly. I was with my mom and I told her I wanted the picture. She asked if it was for Caleb and I could only shake my head no and say, "for the other baby." It is your picture. But it's hard to cuddle with a picture. Dad suggested last night that I make you a blanket, like I did for each of the boys. I think I'm going to do just that.
I realized yesterday that in all the hours I have spent this past year making tiny outfits I had never once done something to celebrate you. I always think that December 8th is your day. Not really a birthday - since that was the day we lost you - I just think of it as your day. That day comes and goes every year and I find myself wishing someone else would stop and remember that day too. Usually I am pretty sad and lonely that day wishing for you. I decided yesterday that I want to have a celebration for you. The world may not recognize you by your name. No one will ever find your tiny headstone and wonder how we ever survived without you. The world may not recognize you were here. But I want to recognize you were here. I had you for 10 weeks. It sounds like such a short time but it changed my life. I can't just pretend it didn't happen. I want to celebrate you.
I don't know how we'll celebrate. I hope we come up with something that we can do every year. It may only be our family that celebrates you - but we will do it. I don't think we'll do cake and ice cream or anything like that. It's a different kind of celebration. Dad and I have plans to go to the temple this year. That is one place I feel very close to you. I spent half the night thinking up other things I can do for you. There are so many ways people celebrate babies who never had a chance to live on earth. I know some of them would think I was crazy to want to celebrate someone who wasn't even here long enough to get a name. But I want to do it. I want to make you more real in my life. When we buy a house I'm going to plant lilies - especially pink ones - all around. For you, since it is your name. And for me - since they are my favorite flowers.
You are a beloved daughter - both of your earthly parents and your Heavenly parents. Someday we will meet again. Thanks for sticking close to me lately. I love being able to feel you close - even if I sometimes wonder if I'm crazy looking around the room expecting you to be there. I love that you feel like part of our family. I wish I could see you playing with your brothers. I know they would adore you and that you would be the best big sister these two little boys could have. I love you, my Lily.
Love Mom
Love Mom
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
A close call
I suppose I should record this here too. Crazy that the thought just barely occurred to me. It's been a rather eventful weekend.
Thursday 11/8/12
Sam left for work about quarter after 7. Since it has turned quite chilly in the mornings he's been riding the bus with his bike in the morning then riding his bike home when it's warmer outside. Since we have no car he has also been stopping at the store more often than not to bring home whatever he can carry on his bike - usually milk.
When Sam called around 8:30 I was surprised that he was calling so early. He told me, "I just wanted you to know that I got to work safe." I said, "I'm glad to hear that. What happened on your way to work?" He said, "Oh nothing. I just wanted you to know I was safe." I knew something was up since he NEVER calls to tell me he's safe when he gets to work. Finally he admitted that something had happened on his way to work. He was up on 19th street waiting for the bus. It's a 45 mph road and quite busy. His bike was sitting against the sign for the bus and he was standing just behind it. Almost out of nowhere a purple PT Cruiser came flying at him. Sam jumped back. The Cruiser lost it's side mirror to the bus sign. Sam's bike got hit. The driver took off. A guy at the gas station behind the bus stop saw the whole thing happen, jumped in his car, took off after the Cruiser, got his license plate number and called it in to police.
I can't tell you what a relief it was to see Sam walk through the door that night. It's one thing to hear that someone is ok. It's another to see that they are ok yourself. Somehow Sam managed to not only not get hit but not to have any damage done to his person. His elbow was hurting a little when I talked to him on the phone - but by the time he got home he couldn't even remember which elbow it had been. No bruises - no cuts - no scrapes. When I think of it happening I can't even figure out how he didn't get hit. It must have been divine intervention.
I'm so glad we had morning prayers that day. So glad we prayed for safety and for the Spirit and that we would listen to the promptings of the Spirit. I'm so thankful for the driver who took off after the Cruiser. I wish I had a way to thank him. We've had hit and run issues before but never has anyone taken off after them. I don't know how long that guy ended up talking to police that day - but I'll consider him a 17 second miracle. He changed my life by his selfless act and his quick thinking. And more than anything, I'm grateful that our family is sealed in the temple. That even if we had lost Sam in this accident that we could have him again some day. I know it wouldn't make it easier to lose him - but it would be a comfort. I'm so glad we have the gospel.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Blessings from a dead car
So...this last weekend was crazy. It involved a 9 hour trip to my parent's house (normally it takes 4-5 hours), a dead transmition, two tow trucks, a wedding, an Eagle court of honor, an Easter egg hunt, a stinky baby who had to leave church for a bath, a new car...and 6 inches of snow.
I guess when the car died I kind of expected things to be like they were the last time our car died. I was amazed at how differently things were this time. the number one biggest difference is that Sam and I weren't alone this time. We had 2 little boys and my brother. And while our two year old was thrilled at getting to see 2 different tow trucks come and pull our car - he was not impressed that his teddy bear was in the car. We unloaded everything we thought we'd need for one night but somehow managed to miss the teddy bear. And he thought "Tey" was gone for good. Really, he did. Even though it was 1 am and I was trying to get him to bed he wanted his teddy bear. I explained to him that the teddy bear was in the car and that we'd have to go and get it in the morning. And somehow (perhaps only by the prayers of exhausted parents) he fell asleep without his beloved Tey for the first time in 18 months. The next morning Tey was the constant topic of conversation. "Tey all gone. In car. On truck." He really thought his teddy bear was gone for good. But he didn’t let that stop him from having a great time with Grandma and my siblings. But we were sure glad to see Daddy come back with Tey (and all the other things from the car too.)
It made me think a lot.
I now understand more of how we are supposed to "be as a little child." My son doesn't remember life without his teddy bear. He got that teddy bear when he was 2 months old. He didn't start loving it and carrying it everywhere until he was 1. And sometimes even now it's a struggle to leave the house without it. We often have to hug Tey and tell him to "have fun" before we can leave him behind. It's his most cherished possession. And this weekend he though it was gone for good. As the parent I knew we could get Tey back. But he had to wait. It was an entire day before Tey came back. I'm sure it felt like an eternity to my son. But he waited. He talked about Tey. Asked about him. I know he wanted him back. But he didn't get angry. He didn't throw a fit. Even at 1 am while refusing any other stuffed animals, he wasn't angry. He still loved me even though I totally forgot to bring the bear with us. He doesn't hold any hard feelings against me.
I wish I could be like him. When I felt my most cherished possession had been taken away I didn't react so kindly. I felt angry and bitter. And I shook my fist more than once at God asking him why he would take a baby away from me that I hadn't even had a chance to meet. I was angry for a long time. I wanted to stop going to church. I honestly don't know how I made it through that Christmas season with everyone talking about baby Jesus. I guess on auto pilot. It was, I thought, the last in the string of a lot of trials. A few weeks later the car died for the second time. We were stranded. It tok us 24 hours to get to my parent's house that time. I thought perhaps that would be the last of the trials for us for a while. A few weeks later we moved and I got a new calling which felt like yet another trial.
Sam and I were called to be Primary teachers for the 10-12 year old boys in our ward. I was devastated. I was scared. I didn't think I fulfill the calling let alone enjoy it. It felt like a huge mistake. Within an hour of meeting the boys I knew that calling wouldn't be a trial for me. I knew I would love it. I fell in love with those little boys. I fell in love with their testimonies. I fell in love with the funny random comments they would make. I still love those boys. They are now turning 14. I can't even describe the feelings I get when I watch them passing the sacrament. They get up to give a talk and mention something we taught them so many year ago. And something pulls at my heart. These are my boys. They helped me so very, very much. They gave me a reason to question what I believed. They gave me an opportunity to share my testimony. They gave me a reason to keep going to church.
Amazing isn't it - how the Lord puts things in our lives that keep us going when we just feel we can't keep going any more? He does have a plan for us. It's hard to see it sometimes. It's hard to be patient while we wait for the next step in our lives. But it's worth it. We just have to have faith. We have to trust that one day we will have our most cherished possessions returned to us. How I wish I could be as understanding as my 2 year old. I guess that’s one of the reasons we’re given kids, right? So that we can see ourselves as our Heavenly Father sees us. It’s an amazing experience to be a parent. I am so grateful for that blessing in my life. And what an amazing blessing it will be when we get to be reunited with our other baby. That is a day I truly look forward to…I just have to remember to keep enjoying my days here too.
So what blessings do we get from a dead car? Already I can see that this new van will be much easier when it comes to moving than a car. We have been looking at buying a truck and trailer - but now we can just pull a trailer with the van. We just got our tax return back - we actually had money to buy a car right now. Even just a few weeks ago it would have been a huge problem to be buying a car. The Lord's timing is amazing. I'm sure there will be other blessing we see from this experience in the future. I have hope for the future. It will be great.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Crashing
You know those times when the world seems to be crashing around you? Right now feels that way to me. Yes, everything is fine here in our little home - but outside that home, things are pretty crazy. Our neighbor, Grant Moedl, is still missing.
There has been no sign or trace of him for a few days. He is one of the nicest men and so down to earth. There is no reason what so ever to suspect he just ran off and left his family - even the police are saying that. I can't even imagine how his wife and daughter must be feeling. They have started getting letters from psychics who claim to have visions of Grant. One in particular was extremely graphic as to how he died. I can't even imagine why someone would even think it was ok to send a horrible letter like that to someone who is already having such a hard time. It makes my blood boil.
For those who don't really believe he is missing, that he ran off and left his family, I wish you could have been with me delivering fliers on Main Street in Rexburg. I heard so many stories about how people knew Grant. People who were his friends, school mates, co-workers. It was amazing. I teared up many a time. Grant is a good man, and he was good before he went missing. He is definitely loved by his family and friends. Please keep spreading the word about him. Let's bring him home, ok?
In other news, Sendai Japan got hit by a second tsunami last night. My heart feels like it is breaking for these good people. I can't even imagine losing my house in seconds, let alone losing people I know and love. Most of all, I can't imagine going through a situation like that without my knowledge of God. Japan allows missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints to enter. But the people aren't overly receptive to messages from the church. I know this because I have one brother who returned last June from Japan and another brother who is serving in Tokyo right now. While I was attending BYU-Hawaii I liked to visit the Laie temple visitor center. There they have a video they show anyone Asian (in their own language) and it's not about the missions of the church like we normally show people. This particular video was to teach people that there is a God. Japanese culture doesn't believe in God.
The earthquakes and tsunamis that Japan is experiencing are tragic. But I believe if I were in that situation it would be unbearable if I didn't believe in a higher power. I don't believe God made this happen. But I do believe he allowed it to happen. In the Book of Mormon there is a scripture that says:
There has been no sign or trace of him for a few days. He is one of the nicest men and so down to earth. There is no reason what so ever to suspect he just ran off and left his family - even the police are saying that. I can't even imagine how his wife and daughter must be feeling. They have started getting letters from psychics who claim to have visions of Grant. One in particular was extremely graphic as to how he died. I can't even imagine why someone would even think it was ok to send a horrible letter like that to someone who is already having such a hard time. It makes my blood boil.
For those who don't really believe he is missing, that he ran off and left his family, I wish you could have been with me delivering fliers on Main Street in Rexburg. I heard so many stories about how people knew Grant. People who were his friends, school mates, co-workers. It was amazing. I teared up many a time. Grant is a good man, and he was good before he went missing. He is definitely loved by his family and friends. Please keep spreading the word about him. Let's bring him home, ok?
In other news, Sendai Japan got hit by a second tsunami last night. My heart feels like it is breaking for these good people. I can't even imagine losing my house in seconds, let alone losing people I know and love. Most of all, I can't imagine going through a situation like that without my knowledge of God. Japan allows missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints to enter. But the people aren't overly receptive to messages from the church. I know this because I have one brother who returned last June from Japan and another brother who is serving in Tokyo right now. While I was attending BYU-Hawaii I liked to visit the Laie temple visitor center. There they have a video they show anyone Asian (in their own language) and it's not about the missions of the church like we normally show people. This particular video was to teach people that there is a God. Japanese culture doesn't believe in God.
The earthquakes and tsunamis that Japan is experiencing are tragic. But I believe if I were in that situation it would be unbearable if I didn't believe in a higher power. I don't believe God made this happen. But I do believe he allowed it to happen. In the Book of Mormon there is a scripture that says:
And thus we see that except the Lord doth achasten his people with many afflictions, yea, except he doth visit them with bdeath and with terror, and with famine and with all manner of pestilence, they will not cremember him.
Helaman 12:3
Helaman 12:3
I read this just the other day and was struck with a remembrance of September 11, 2001. Do you remember how we all prayed then? Our hearts were turned to God. It is true that tragedies turn us to God. And I believe these disasters will help turn the Japanese people to God.
I have been praying for the Japanese people a lot lately. I pray for their safety. I pray that their hearts will turn to God in their time of sorrow and loss. I pray the missionaries will be able to be strong and ready to serve and teach. I pray they will learn about the blessings of eternal families. Losing someone you love is sad. No amount of knowledge will really take that sadness from you. But the knowledge that not only will you see your family members and friends again, but you will be sealed to your family - for eternity, gives you reason to keep going. I am so grateful that our little family is sealed together for eternity. I am grateful that our extended families for several years/generations are sealed together. Family is everything. I am grateful to know that though we will lose family members because death is a natural part of life, we can all be together again someday. This knowledge brings me great peace.
Please join your prayers with mine at this time for those who are suffering. There are a lot of people who need a lot of prayers. I know our Heavenly Father will answer our prayers.
I have been praying for the Japanese people a lot lately. I pray for their safety. I pray that their hearts will turn to God in their time of sorrow and loss. I pray the missionaries will be able to be strong and ready to serve and teach. I pray they will learn about the blessings of eternal families. Losing someone you love is sad. No amount of knowledge will really take that sadness from you. But the knowledge that not only will you see your family members and friends again, but you will be sealed to your family - for eternity, gives you reason to keep going. I am so grateful that our little family is sealed together for eternity. I am grateful that our extended families for several years/generations are sealed together. Family is everything. I am grateful to know that though we will lose family members because death is a natural part of life, we can all be together again someday. This knowledge brings me great peace.
Please join your prayers with mine at this time for those who are suffering. There are a lot of people who need a lot of prayers. I know our Heavenly Father will answer our prayers.
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