I knew that I knew you, but now I know who you are…

6 Mar

For the past 10 years, Steve and I have been members of Traders Point Christian Church in Whitestown.  TPCC is a very large church with a growing attendance of 3,000+ each Sunday.  With a church that size, it can be a little difficult to learn names in addition to faces.

In December of 2010, TPCC became formally affiliated with Response Church.  Response serves a neighborhood of low-income families and individuals and the homeless in Downtown Indianapolis.  Steve and I have been attending/serving at Response since the first of this year.

A few weeks ago, I served as a volunteer for a special womens event at Response, and several women from TPCC were there to serve, as well.  When I first arrived, I spent a few minutes socializing with a TPCC member I recognized, but I couldn’t remember her name.  (Note to self, re-introduce myself to people more often.)

As the ladies from the neighborhood arrived, we stayed busy greeting them and getting to know some of them.  I noticed one of the ladies was pushing a stroller with an oxygen tank hanging from it, so I gravitated toward her.  I discovered that her 8 week-old baby girl was born with Down Syndrome, and her daughter needed the oxygen due to apnea.

I told her about Sammy and offered to hold her baby if she needed any help during the evening.  I was thrilled when she took me up on my offer!  Holding that sweet little baby was a precious blessing to me.

Later in the evening as the event was drawing to a close, I had an opportunity to again chat with the TPCC member I had spoken with earlier in the evening.  When I approached her, she confessed something to me that brought me happiness.  She said that she also had recognized me when I arrived, but she couldn’t remember my name either.  She said that when she looked over and saw me holding the baby, it suddenly clicked with her as to who I am.  Sammy’s mom.

Almost everyone at TPCC knew who Sammy was, and as a result, they knew who we were.  We were Sammy’s parents, and it is so heartwarming to be recognized and remembered that way.

Holding Sammy at 8-weeks old

Your comforts delight my soul…

11 Jan

I’ve been meditating on Psalm 94:17-19 all morning.

“If God hadn’t been there for me, I never would have made it. The minute I said, ‘I’m slipping, I’m falling,’ Your love, God, took hold and held me fast. When I was upset and beside myself, you calmed me down and cheered me up.” (The Message)

The New Living Translation says, “When doubts filled my mind, your comfort gave me renewed hope and cheer.”

The King James Version says, “In the multitude of my anxieties within me, Your comforts delight my soul.”

It has been three years since we said good-bye to Sammy, but I still have HoPE.

When I read verses 17-19 of The Message, I picture myself frustrated and frightened while dangling from a cliff that I had been trying to climb on my own.

Finally, I cry out that I’m falling, and instantly the Hand of God reaches down to firmly grasp my wrist to support me and assures me that I am going to be okay.

 

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January 7

7 Jan

January 7. I spend 364 days of the year dreading that one day.

It is the day I had to say goodbye to my only child. He didn’t go off to college or join the military. He didn’t elope in Vegas or run away from home. January 7 is the day when he took his final breath on earth and took his first step in heaven.

On January 7, 2008, we celebrated Sammy and his life. In his final hours, he heard the voices of the people who loved him, the people who prayed for him, the people who cared for him. He heard us all gather around his bed as we each spontaneously told our sweet memories and stories about him. In those last hours, he heard the familiar sounds of laughter that he had heard every single day of his life. Not a day of his life was wasted, and every day was a celebration. I pray that those familiar voices and chuckles brought him comfort.

Sammy passed away on January 7, 2008 at 10:40pm. January 7 gets a lot of attention because it’s the day marking the anniversary of when we said goodbye.  But for Steve and me, January 8 is an even harder anniversary because that marks the day when we had to learn to live without him.

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