tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38495922571887304972024-03-13T04:29:26.250-04:00REMEMBER & WAITBut if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. Romans 8:25Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.comBlogger140125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-81642452743179178752012-03-23T15:46:00.007-04:002012-03-23T17:02:33.598-04:00Chai, Simon, and the Death of Death<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8WN2c42uqHe9KCJ-vXUpBEGtQ80vbzwhO486krd5xfDsxMOtxnz4h1ZmhQ0W-oGyPVdLguD2yUZjQ0B6N0zNRNtkSad1mP7o7aTnEYDGAQRe3qNglwK7mB-Yy1rl8SBu1VUSSBZU1XDjP/s1600/Mom%252C+Dad%252C+Chai+1.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8WN2c42uqHe9KCJ-vXUpBEGtQ80vbzwhO486krd5xfDsxMOtxnz4h1ZmhQ0W-oGyPVdLguD2yUZjQ0B6N0zNRNtkSad1mP7o7aTnEYDGAQRe3qNglwK7mB-Yy1rl8SBu1VUSSBZU1XDjP/s320/Mom%252C+Dad%252C+Chai+1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5723182915970712898" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">God has painfully revealed his love and grace to me in many ways through the death of my son, Chai.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Its been more than 20 months since he died, and I’m still learning more from my son.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After Chai died on July 12<sup>th</sup>, 2010, Keva and I immediately wanted to be pregnant again. That desire was partly out of our wish to get past the pain that we were experiencing and partly out of our trust in God as the author of life. The latter was good. The former, not so much.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the months following Chai’s death, getting pregnant for a second time was feeling almost as impossible as it did during our first 11 years of marriage.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Once again, we grew more frustrated than we did patient, and began to settle into the idea that our family would remain as it was. Then God surprised us again.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">When your wife walks into the bathroom with a pregnancy test and then, minutes later, lets out a scream, you don’t have to be a detective to connect the dots.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">There was a lot of excitement in that moment. It kind of felt like what I suppose it might feel like to win the lottery: Elation followed by the question “What are we going to do with this?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But in that moment, fear mingled with our delight. Anxiousness combined with our hope.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I tried to remain calm. Keva came to mind first. What would happen if this baby dies? Would that crush her? Would it be too painful to bear?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then I thought about my kids. Micah and Isaac have experienced exactly one pregnancy up close. It ended in the death of their baby brother. What if we went 0 for 2? And this one would be different. After all, surely they will pray specifically for this baby NOT to die. Surely they will ask God to keep this one alive. I had written answers down to essay questions on tests in seminary like “Why does God allow evil and suffering in the world?” but could I explain to my sons why their siblings keep dying even though we keep asking God to keep them alive?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was afraid. Happy….but afraid.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now to the present.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Chai was born 26 weeks and 6 days into pregnancy. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Today, Keva is 26 weeks and 6 days pregnant.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">After Chai’s birth, the doctor told us if Keva got pregnant again, she probably wouldn’t carry past 21 weeks.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today, our doctor told us she expects Keva to carry beyond 34 weeks…maybe full term.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">What is amazing about this prognosis is not simply THAT God has done this, but the WAY he has done this.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He has brought life from death. Let me explain.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Through Chai’s death, we learned something about Keva’s body. In short, that her cervix could not support the weight of a child without help. So, Keva had a surgery in December to help her cervix support the weight of this new little life.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We never would have known that, if Chai hadn’t gone before his little brother to show us.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Without Chai’s death, Simon’s life would not be possible. Someone had to be the forerunner. Someone had to die so that another could live.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sound familiar? It’s the gospel pattern. Its something we all know is deeply painful, but is deeply beautiful. Sacrifice.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Life from death.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Hope from despair.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Joy from pain.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is what Christ accomplished for me…and all those who trust Him.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He died so that I could have life. But the resurrection means that death is dead. It no longer holds sway over those who are in Christ.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">What does that mean for the Atwoods? It means one day Simon will embrace his big brother and say “Thank you!”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>…and Micah, Isaac, Chai, and Simon will spend eternity worshipping the God who defeated death and made life possible.</p><p class="MsoNormal">...and so will their parents.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Trevor</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com50tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-35425900070897893582012-02-13T18:06:00.005-05:002012-02-14T08:51:29.633-05:00Adoption and The Hard Things in Life<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbXOV7jAhjkwUDD3QIbiMMNToGiHVYQcZpgyebljJznshoo3zhit-m1CEY1Yyz_SxfIho0s7va1Cw7GPjoAL_7YP4WoM2hh0QG7vVDQuV6eByadVfVbkAmPjqDYGatUoJNaCKMxrNQ_x77/s320/DSC00500.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708781701964169682" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheMaJdDks9UYNDktIQMdb_wMR73MdlJ4wnPaMBRBWHZ3ph-KDKrNLH_2ePgEwd36xrsnJLptqvpyJ_N7eyPS9y1DqLdu2S5zPskLcaq3sxqzfpi0I-dkGZ3uZmd2c45ycLVIZxacePt2Ve/s320/Atwoods+002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708782298343745922" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Februray 14th, 2008. <div><br /></div><div>While the rest of America was celebrating Valentine's Day, the Atwoods were celebrating the fact that our son was now legally an Atwood. Because of Ethiopia's laws at the time, an advocate went to court on our behalf before we actually ever saw Isaac face to face. So, he became a legal member of our family before we could ever hug him.</div><div><br /></div><div>This Valentine's Day, as we have for the last 4 years, we'll take Isaac Sentayehu Atwood out for a special dinner, and we'll watch the video footage from our trip to Ethiopia. We will all laugh...and Mom and Dad will cry a bit, too.</div><div><br /></div><div>Whenever I think about the process of adopting Ike, at some point I am reminded of one of the largest hurdles we had to overcome in order to bring him home.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not money.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not waiting.</div><div><br /></div><div>Race.</div><div><br /></div><div>When Keva first said to me, "I want to adopt from Africa!", I treated it like I did when she first announced years before that she wanted to adopt at all...I said, "I'll pray about it." Not that I really would offer more than the cursory "Lord, show us what to do." Basically I just needed to calm down my over-zealous wife.</div><div><br /></div><div>The fear that was beneath the surface of my hesitation, I am ashamed to admit. It was a form of racism. I didn't particularly have anything against black people, I just didn't know how they could fit into my family. After all, I'm not even sure what to do with the kid's hair.</div><div><br /></div><div>My fear was that I wouldn't be able to relate. I was afraid that he would have problems that only a black parent could solve. I was afraid he would feel alone or ostracized in our family. I was afraid he was just going to be different. </div><div><br /></div><div>What moved me past my fear?</div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't decide that my assumptions were wrong. They probably aren't. Isaac, ever observant, has already noticed his skin color is different. Just the other day he asked, "Dad, what color skin is Simon (our soon-to-be-born son) going to have?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Probably like Mom and Dad's. Maybe a little lighter or a little darker," I said.</div><div><br /></div><div>"ARRGGHHH! I want him to have skin like me so I'm not by myself," he said.</div><div><br /></div><div>As Isaac grows, we will continue to re-inforce his understanding of what binds us as a family. Not our skin color, not our genes, but our God-given love for each other.</div><div><br /></div><div>So what changed my mind? A realization that hard things in life glorify God.</div><div><br /></div><div>I realized that bringing a child of a different race wouldn't be easy. And it hasn't. (Though very little of that has had anything to do with skin color!) But what we also know about God is that he went through the suffering of the cross in order to bring us life. </div><div><br /></div><div>The gospel tells me that I should expect when I lay my own life down for someone else, that it produces good things. </div><div><br /></div><div>In them, and in me.</div><div><br /></div><div>This has undoubtedly been the story of Isaac. In 4 years, he has been a tool of God that has chiseled our family more into his image. </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't really see my son's skin color anymore. Just an incredibly bright, athletic, inquisitive, rough-and-tumble bit of energy that rightly calls us Mom and Dad.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Adoption Day, Isaac Sentayehu! You are loved beyond your wildest imagination.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-788989149195008452011-12-30T15:43:00.003-05:002011-12-30T16:02:34.658-05:00New Aftermath Album<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOz-aGinb65LRFGJqRVkm0KxgZsgTpgP0npatcFAGGuqqv6qNVcJFVTjTlW2WysGXglnPeUsKzGBZZWHvfsgI3CXHcAeEZaOrwnzUUr_cgGLUd8QgT_g2caOsQSzJy0SlmuB9WrlGVXgUB/s1600/SBTD+COVER.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOz-aGinb65LRFGJqRVkm0KxgZsgTpgP0npatcFAGGuqqv6qNVcJFVTjTlW2WysGXglnPeUsKzGBZZWHvfsgI3CXHcAeEZaOrwnzUUr_cgGLUd8QgT_g2caOsQSzJy0SlmuB9WrlGVXgUB/s400/SBTD+COVER.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692026573623683858" /></a><br /><div>One of my best friends, Jonathan Edwards, sent me a pre-release copy of his new album, She's Better Than Dreams. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've been listening to it today over and over on repeat, as I wrote a sermon. This album is great for mellow reflection as well as cranking up in the car. As with the <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/the-aftertaste-abandonment/id400936279">last album</a>, the lyrics are a reflection of a broken heart, but this time there is a new hope in Edward's voice. </div><div><br /></div><div>I especially like the redo of Airplanes and Airwaves. If you have his first album, you're going love the new version. </div><div><br /></div><div>If you haven't gotten the first album, go do it. It is one I listen to often. Then get ready for more good stuff on the new album- She's Better Than Dreams. Here's what you need to know</div><div><br /></div><div>Website- <a href="http://www.wearetheaftermath.com">www.WeAreTheAftermath.com</a></div><div><br /></div><div>For updates on Twitter, follow @NotThePuritan (get it, He's Jonathan Edwards but not <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonathan_Edwards_(theologian)">THAT</a> Jonathan Edwards)</div><div><br /></div><div>Album releases January 10, 2012...get ready!</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "><br /></div></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-56900057881573263502011-11-27T10:30:00.005-05:002011-11-27T10:38:43.367-05:00Isaac Turns 5<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2ZK4M1R5_mro-E9I1n7fARoAvqyZUSJHrurWVr27Pl_4uHe63n3FvNsM__YBDyBWjAuvsvSrMy3lXTNyA7VrzBPVKe7ma_Q4bA7kU4HoG1emT97Qe8-qf8w_8-gdBO54DAjpwnJC7loN/s1600/10.21.11+027.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2ZK4M1R5_mro-E9I1n7fARoAvqyZUSJHrurWVr27Pl_4uHe63n3FvNsM__YBDyBWjAuvsvSrMy3lXTNyA7VrzBPVKe7ma_Q4bA7kU4HoG1emT97Qe8-qf8w_8-gdBO54DAjpwnJC7loN/s400/10.21.11+027.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679699967536417586" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqFp4Nr2wnUNttYzQdhQLTzFFovyD0iVXH7aZaHktwoevRu47j1jtel0bAUdEnkGXY_ZZdaYfEUF5cblQmBvCCWIvK8vYnSyoHxUa7QZOQkbB5gKyh8IirpVRlROXMZh0nFrk7a3yt9uj/s1600/10.21.11+093.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqFp4Nr2wnUNttYzQdhQLTzFFovyD0iVXH7aZaHktwoevRu47j1jtel0bAUdEnkGXY_ZZdaYfEUF5cblQmBvCCWIvK8vYnSyoHxUa7QZOQkbB5gKyh8IirpVRlROXMZh0nFrk7a3yt9uj/s400/10.21.11+093.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679699522703452962" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxdeEqeFa_E0ccxPfenXWu0P2nK_rQ1b-DxwlPo-G2dYqQW_fjzE83lLAhyphenhyphenEe6Vg4REnVmutasj-zQNYEauMM5MMJj7qeAGUSUxc6IHueOCim40DZza3plJx-OfftULoLVN_P_cOIVQ4Dg/s1600/10.21.11+045.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxdeEqeFa_E0ccxPfenXWu0P2nK_rQ1b-DxwlPo-G2dYqQW_fjzE83lLAhyphenhyphenEe6Vg4REnVmutasj-zQNYEauMM5MMJj7qeAGUSUxc6IHueOCim40DZza3plJx-OfftULoLVN_P_cOIVQ4Dg/s400/10.21.11+045.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679699513772866578" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh43Dy2z1ONPzlloTfSok_WdiuWSClYGy39h9pmBQAScP76OfPhtWPW_SSN3Wm2jLZhX_iPQi39QpbCqcemivdEq38wuRTl2wgR2NZFfwq3UYUDowiG45SwCsusQfKXTKzuy1RX6VW1uDcG/s1600/10.21.11+042.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh43Dy2z1ONPzlloTfSok_WdiuWSClYGy39h9pmBQAScP76OfPhtWPW_SSN3Wm2jLZhX_iPQi39QpbCqcemivdEq38wuRTl2wgR2NZFfwq3UYUDowiG45SwCsusQfKXTKzuy1RX6VW1uDcG/s400/10.21.11+042.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679699507719662226" /></a><br /><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0cijJ_yh4QU3q5Y0TAHAM7X-iHAxBsPoK27EifW-UD2fg7gGS3uM5rt0gQyk6Ltd9ECpt-e3uA-gTNI6kRT3UpiYd6PZAUi2kUplMZFRrG5OmMarJ_fTjBK8RSAwserp5cLTCIn_dVYD/s400/10.21.11+082.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679699500801561074" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Isaac being the huge baseball fan that he is wanted to have a Baseball Party. So, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">that's</span> what we did. The weather was nice and we were able to have it in our backyard. We invited kids from City Church and the neighborhood. He had a great time.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Issac we love you and are so very proud of you!!</div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-38756415970378657922011-07-11T08:17:00.004-04:002011-07-11T08:26:51.037-04:00Happy Birthday, Chai<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61aLtN-ebXDVMYEU5cLSa02uSJLpiZ18A3LHNCoALqPFllCHgvAMwHYNCM1OivQ1Qn5Aoc5QZ4sTHsIZ4jddUN9-nvVBHybmG0ZgiTNgJzplMZjO-xtxtIg59ddOAi6dcDZIwQ0M3ohV3/s1600/Mom%252C+Dad%252C+Chai+1.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61aLtN-ebXDVMYEU5cLSa02uSJLpiZ18A3LHNCoALqPFllCHgvAMwHYNCM1OivQ1Qn5Aoc5QZ4sTHsIZ4jddUN9-nvVBHybmG0ZgiTNgJzplMZjO-xtxtIg59ddOAi6dcDZIwQ0M3ohV3/s400/Mom%252C+Dad%252C+Chai+1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628069917204441538" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJFtypZYZpqaKV2gknFCQZ4OE7a0GAZqBr7fRbZ6JnqPSrkE2BR56xn68cRDmQ162Sf6wbr36dI9qVnHwFgNLPj7ayAh9cyF-xs4opsXkfMmyxuxTJi9b1f-H8KQaJi1sYF7mumzxhOFG/s1600/Daddy+and+Chai+1.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJFtypZYZpqaKV2gknFCQZ4OE7a0GAZqBr7fRbZ6JnqPSrkE2BR56xn68cRDmQ162Sf6wbr36dI9qVnHwFgNLPj7ayAh9cyF-xs4opsXkfMmyxuxTJi9b1f-H8KQaJi1sYF7mumzxhOFG/s400/Daddy+and+Chai+1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628069609881703426" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">One year ago today, Chai Samuel Atwood was born. One year ago tomorrow, he died. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This post is from his Mom, Dad, and brothers to tell him that we love and miss him.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Chai,<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I will never forget Sunday July 11, 2010. Its the day you were born. Mom and I were not expecting you to come so early. Early in the morning the day before, I woke up to your big brother Isaac crying because he had peed the bed. As I stumbled into his room to change him and drag him into bed with Mom and me I heard Mom scream in the other room. I put Ike down and ran back into check on Mom. She told me you were on the way.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You came too early, son.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After Daddy ran up and down the stairs about 7 times and misplaced Ike in the process, I finally called Mr. Spence to come and stay with your brothers while they slept. Mr. Spence was sleeping too. (We woke up a lot of people that night).<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When we got to the hospital, they got Mom settled into a room, checked on you, and everything looked OK. All day Saturday, we spent praying for you. I was nervous, but really excited to meet you. You know, Mom and Daddy waited a long time for you. 12 years…<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">…but you still came too early, son.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Saturday night, I slept in the hospital next to you and Mom. Micah and Isaac came to visit you and Mom in the hospital. They thought the machines around Mommy were cool. They asked a lot of questions about you. I didn’t have a lot of answers.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I still don’t have them all.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Sunday morning, your birthday, Mommy wasn’t feeling well. Where you were in her tummy hurt really bad. In a few short minutes, they wheeled mom away and said they had to get you out or you might get sick. Daddy cried. I was afraid for just a minute. I was afraid you and Mommy might die. So, I prayed. God reminded me not to be afraid. He does that for Daddy a lot. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was Sunday morning, so our church was meeting. They all prayed for you too.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After they got Mommy ready for surgery, that let me back in the room. I whispered a verse from the Bible in Mommy’s ear. Its Romans 8:28 and it says that God works all things for good for those who love God and are called according to his purpose. Mommy and I love God, so we trust what he says.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then it happened. I got to see you. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was only for 5 seconds, but they were 5 beautiful seconds. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Your name means “Alive”. Mommy and I named you that because of how God made us alive when we were dead inside. During the 5 seconds I got to see you, you were kicking around like a crazy man. You certainly were alive! I think you could play soccer with your brothers. They’d like that.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then things didn’t go so well. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You were sick. Really sick. I would never see you move around like that again. They put you in a little plastic tent to help you breathe.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Mommy and I slept in the hospital that night, but we really didn’t sleep. The doctors kept coming in telling us about how you were doing. We would have moments of hope where we thought you would get better, but then you’d get real sick again.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Daddy kept praying. I asked God to take care of you. I asked God to make you better. I asked God to let you live.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Micah and Isaac came to see you in your tent on Monday. Right after they saw you, the doctor told me you were about to die. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was sad.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Your brother Micah was sad too. When I told him you were going to die, he looked at me with big tears in his eyes and said, “But Dad, I’ll never get to feed him.” He misses you, little buddy.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Mommy, Daddy, Micah, Isaac, Granny-Jeal, Grandpa, Granddaddy, and Grammy were all there to see you and say good-bye. We all gathered around you in a little room while Mommy and Daddy took turns holding you. You were light as a feather. Everybody looked at you and said, “I love you.”<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Mommy cried. Daddy cried.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Everybody cried.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then, while you were in Daddy’s arms, you fell asleep and died. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You left too early, son.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I know you woke up in Daddy’s arms. Not mine, but God’s.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It seems a little silly to tell you what you have missed here. You’ve been with Jesus. You really haven’t missed anything. But I’ll tell you anyway.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Isaac always prays for you. He asks Jesus to come back quick so he and Micah can feed you. He always asks Jesus to take good care of you.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Micah painted a family picture while he was in first grade. He put you in it, next to Jesus.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Daddy thinks about you often, but especially when I run. I hear Owl City sing “Vanilla Twilight” and cry every time he says, “the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly”.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Mommy cries for you, too. Some nights she just says, “I miss my baby.” That’s when I hug her and cry more. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When we visit your grave, we always take Stewart’s Orange Cream Sodas. Its Daddy’s favorite drink. I think you would have liked it, too. Micah, Ike, and I share a toast. We clink our bottles and say, “To our baby brother!” Then Micah and Ike laugh.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We put 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 on your tombstone. It reminds us that we’ll see you again…when Heaven comes down.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There is so much more to tell you, but I know I have eternity to have Daddy-Son talks with you. Just ask Micah and Ike, I have some really good ones.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today, Mom will make a cake for you. We’ll have an Orange Cream toast in your honor. And Ike will pray for Jesus to come back quickly.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m not sure why God had you come so early, then die so soon. But I do know that God doesn’t do things early or late, just right on time. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I guess I could be mad at God, but his son died too early too. That’s what I always remember and it helps me wait for the day I see you again. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Good news…God’s son didn’t stay dead, so neither will you. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Happy Birthday Baby Boy! We love you!<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">See you soon.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>Love, </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Daddy, Mommy, Micah, and Isaac </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-32037071288945412862011-06-06T17:37:00.007-04:002011-06-08T13:09:26.840-04:00The Last Month<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>This is definitely a catch-up post and because of shear time it will mostly be</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>pictures and less words.</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;">May is ALWAYS a crazy busy month for our family, with Micah's birthday, Mother's day, school ending, graduation for Trevor, my birthday, 12yr anniversary and Trevor's birthday...yes </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">that's</span> a lot.</div><div style="text-align: left;">We have also had the boys baseball season going on in the midst of the chaos. Its been a great year of ball, they have had a lot of fun, learned a lot and made some great friends.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Y5OeRsEZ16sUjBnWnAbShfZ7imoYWz9mAT0HZFogQ0tVV8p7pgy8-5HJyhS4pI0VaujCqKuJMMTwyG6fInSTBgQZ6DQbQjbYVzckL6J_aDtG9U4Kh0znq36A166LhmgjOFuE_j5Ds2Q0/s400/DSC04810.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615895045388808034" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The boys surprised Trevor with breakfast and a new "grown-up" watch for graduation. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>They always get so excited to give us gift and surprise us. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUt3Ypaq2YCziI7uUoZeXP2hDwDm9DuE7J45PcvHgRn71TUx_bz6aopnjPnQM4woLZRqyGmsfrwlTSR4C0v2fJGGunYfPeMNxxzd2AFB4vPWtMcikCizmkUV-1aNNlbNsVqxI93I1zmpJp/s400/DSC04812.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615894561311040498" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Trevor before he heads out the door. We are SO SO proud of him.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzSmUkILrdw0yhNlN8DCxu9qaDB2qTvWcBdFhjOHHsSHwjr6bvxz-Y4WtAvS-yb1AWVcZHRWmV-r8xuHn0xKkBFPSfRW2WOVqrNr9npKeIkpkklnFvUNmX4bIoBwj8q52yZTnzQrvFQWQ_/s400/DSC04804.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615894112286936194" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNPNWcVGJkeVt7fRrRVq49YjEKnTmPcM1I2saq9qbCtO5n8zXLm5oNYdwTfk0SGkSmuin1AEaIkBK_cWZz_xnjwqFjqaSkfWE2Q15PwNFlepIaBbCGvUdQZ7TKrgd6NFPeko-aCBT5d1IT/s400/DSC04793.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615891898101856242" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Micah wanted to have a sleepover for his birthday this year. This will be the first of many. He invited 4 friends from school. They ate pizza and cupcakes {of course Gluten free & Dairy free}, opened presents, had a water balloon fight, watched a movie and stayed up really late. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_vrzN3XDCp22X7GulERutAEkx3Baf5BTBADEW768v3vpUpJIlDlrQUePoJ4soIeG8YrbuNodtrn3KLSElWC9lJC99TbrFzHX63_uhx3CsDeAv4CNUxrx3yu4Ix0v85Rj85AP1_rKmkxBj/s400/DSC04774.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615891893545950594" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The boys went camping with the kids and coaches from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">their</span> baseball team. What a fun evening. They left before nightfall, because it was a Saturday night, which means Trev has responsibilities early the next morning for church AND it was Mother's Day. </i></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-50002623152762447102011-05-31T15:48:00.003-04:002011-05-31T15:52:38.095-04:00Remembering the Last 5 Years<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW3g6E6PmHCmNCq-GHf74Oj-5uBEErRkq_DB2-Yz9dm3vXubauEniod7Z-te75N74P_hzgaRcWh39uYIBm39e7Q1BYBVtJH4XleqkUFWlvS2hVVRP6cEz1rLLC7DlfnLqSr6lmVheRm3vj/s1600/DSC04816.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW3g6E6PmHCmNCq-GHf74Oj-5uBEErRkq_DB2-Yz9dm3vXubauEniod7Z-te75N74P_hzgaRcWh39uYIBm39e7Q1BYBVtJH4XleqkUFWlvS2hVVRP6cEz1rLLC7DlfnLqSr6lmVheRm3vj/s400/DSC04816.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612969982872170642" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal">So I graduated seminary a couple of weeks ago. Apparently, I now have certification to prove that I have mastered divinity.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Over the last 5 years, I have developed this understanding and paradigm for life that is reflected in the title of this blog- Remember and Wait. It simply points to what theologians call the “already” and “not yet” of the Kingdom of God. In some ways, the kingdom is already among us, in that Christ has already paid the price for my rebellion against God and has already adopted me into his family. I am as loved and accepted by God today because my faith is in the person and work of Jesus as I will be for eternity.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Done.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>“It is finished.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">At the same time, the world is still broken. People are still dying, sin is still present in our lives, and clearly pain and suffering have not been eliminated.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">This is no Eden.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Remember and Wait puts action on the “Already” but “Not Yet” idea. I am to remember what Christ has done and what that means for reality TODAY. At the same time, I recognize that there is something yet to be completed. Pain, death, sin must all be swallowed up. I must wait and long for TOMORROW.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Come quickly, Lord Jesus is a daily prayer.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">That is the macro-, meta-narrative application of this theology. I have also found it applies to instances in my own life.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Here’s how. Graduation is a monument to me. When I look at that diploma on my wall, it won’t simply remind me that I have had a particular degree conferred upon me for completing a set of academic requirements. That’s what it will say to someone else.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Graduation and the diploma will represent 5 years of the grace of God being very present in my life. This is the REMEMBER.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>REMEMBER</b>- God provided a job when we moved.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>REMEMBER</b>- God provided a church that loved us and challenged us in the gospel.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>REMEMBER</b>- God brought Isaac home from Ethiopia (adopting on a seminary salary is miracle in and of itself).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>REMEMBER</b>- God brought us through a tough first year with Isaac where we questioned our parenting abilities- Crushing our idol of being thought of as great parents.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>REMEMBER</b>- God brought us through a very difficult time in our marriage- Crushing our idol of being thought of as a great husband/wife<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>REMEMBER</b>- God brought us through countless moments when we weren’t sure the money would outlast the month- Crushing our idol of financial security.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>REMEMBER</b>- God brought us through a difficult time of questioning my ability to pastor and lead effectively- Crushing my idolatry of ministry.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>REMEMBER</b>- God gave us Chai. Though he took him early, he gave our family a heightened eternal perspective that has kept us from clinging too closely to things that will not last.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">All along a terribly difficult journey through theological education, God was teaching us more about himself in our sufferings than I ever learned in Systematic Theology. (Though I did learn quite a bit from Dr. Hogg and Dr. Hammett).<span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Here’s the point. I remember in a God-honoring way when I remember the grace of God in my life. Primarily, that is the cross. Secondarily, that is the way on a day-by-day basis that I see the character of a God who would give his only son so that I can be brought into his family. After all, he who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with Him graciously give us all things? (Romans 8:32)</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">So, I remember the Son…and I remember the “all things”.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">What about the “WAIT”?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Well, I think Romans 8:32 answers that, too. God has done the hard work. Primarily, on the cross. Secondarily, in my life, to prepare me for the future.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">His future.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">What God starts, He finishes. Jesus is not just the founder of our faith…he is also the perfecter. (Hebrews 12:2).</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">So as I look to the ultimate future, I wait expectantly for God to heal all things, set right all wrongs, and do away completely with sin, evil, pain, suffering, and death. His son died to make it this way and resurrected to prove it will happen.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Likewise, as I look to my immediate future as a church planter in Murfreesboro, I have a sure hope that God is again up to something restorative, redemptive and…well…BIG.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">He has not prepared me, provided for me, and crushed my idols so that I can be more comfortable. He has been conforming me into the image of his Son (though not yet completely) in order to display his glory to those who are far from him. He has worked in me so that he can work in others. So in the vein of a WAITING theology…BRING IT ON!</p><p class="MsoNormal">I wanted to say a public “thank you” to several of the people whom God used as instruments of his grace to my family and me in the last 5 years. Granted, it won’t be everyone, but these are the ones that come to mind currently. If I miss you, I trust that God has not.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thanks Dad and Mom</b>. Enough cannot be said here. You prayed, you gave, you loved. We would not have made it through seminary without you. My Dad would always ask me on the phone “Do you need anything son?” Beyond the blessing of his response to my answer, he was a continual reminder that my Father in Heaven was asking me the same thing.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thanks Clyde and Jody</b> (Keva’s parents). Our kids had clothes on their backs because of your generosity toward us. Many times when we thought the month would outlast the money, a check would come in the mail as a “just because we love you”.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thanks Summit Church.</b> The Summit took a chance on me. Brought me aboard the leadership and entrusted me to lead. I learned an immeasurable amount from my fellow staff members and was loved unconditionally. Additionally, countless people I met only once or twice (or maybe never) were voices of comfort and reminders of God’s faithfulness as we walked through the shadow of death.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thanks JD Greear. </b>It is hard to say how much I have learned from you. You have helped me better understand and believe the gospel. You have shown me and taught me how to lead humbly and graciously. You have helped develop a heart in me for developing and discipling others to reach the nations with the gospel. I am a better and more Christ-like preacher, pastor, leader, father, and friend because of your short, but impactful investment in my life.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thanks Spence Shelton and Andrew Hopper. </b>In times when my life/sanity was hanging by a thread and I needed to vent, you guys were there. Not only that, your insight into my life and particular situations were invaluable. With God, I was never alone…but you were a very tangible ambassador for Christ in my life during the hardest times. You also laughed at my jokes…sometimes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thanks Chris and Michal Rudolph. </b>It is hard to imagine a family that was more of a blessing in every area of our lives during these last 5 years. In my time as a college pastor, I could always count on your leadership and support in loving and ministering to students. You were generous with your time and money. You were the biggest supporters of the Atwoods and played a key role in us making it through.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thanks Courtney, Michal, Abby, and Jill. </b>I needed my wife more than ever these last 5 years. She needed friends that would love her, listen to her, and challenge her more than ever. You four were those friends. You provided the kind of female camaraderie that I could not. You all were a gift from God to my wife and to our marriage.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thanks Jonathan Edwards (Not the Puritan). </b>I have never quite had a relationship like the one we had. Boss, roommate, mentor, friend. In many ways, I am proud of you like a father is proud of a son. My time at the Summit would probably have looked a great deal different if you weren’t there. God used you and our conversations in many ways to prune me and sharpen me over these last 3 years. Looking forward to see what else God does with you.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thanks College Students and Leaders.</b> There are too many of you to name, but you know who you are. You took a chance by stepping out of the comfortable and following my leadership. You have know idea how much of a blessing you were to my family and me just by doing that. I can only pray that God used the Atwoods to bless and change you the way he used you in our lives.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thanks to my sons, Micah and Isaac. </b>Ok, you probably won’t read this soon, but maybe one day you’ll dig it up in the archive of this blog. I have learned so much through the 2 of you. As I have discipled, loved, and led you boys, my heart has been softened. Many days when the stress of my life seemed too much to overcome, I came home to you two. It didn’t matter what I done that day or what the world thought about me, I was daddy when I walked in that door. God used and is using your lives to remind me of the glorious reality of having a heavenly father that wants to provide for my every need and shape me into someone beautiful. I pray for you everyday and remain thankful for the gifts you both are to your mother and me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Thanks to my wife, Keva. </b>This has certainly been a wild ride. There is nothing I can write here that I haven’t already told you in person with tears streaming down my cheeks (as they are as write this). We have been tested, tried, and tempted. In a way, I wish I could say each time we passed with flying colors. We didn’t. In many ways, we failed. But we are known and loved by a redeeming God who takes messes and turns them into masterpieces. For that reason, I wouldn’t change a thing about the last 5 years. I’d be a fool to try and re-do the things based on my pathetic limited knowledge, which God has used for his glory and our good based on his perfect wisdom.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Thank you for every meal you cooked. Our sons future wives have a great deal to live up to.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Thank you for your commitment to love people. I don’t know how many young women you have counseled, how many meals you prepared for people who ate in our home, or how much time you spent giving of your self and time to help other people understand who Jesus is. I do know that even when things were stressful and difficult, you still made time for other people.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Thank you for not quitting. I know that sometimes people assume that Christians just stay together magically. It takes work. God worked on you and you did the hard work loving me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Thank you for your encouragement. Without you, I probably never would have come to seminary. Without you, I would have given up. Your ability to sense my stress and frustration then remind me of what God has called me to be are a gift.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I am so thankful for what God has done in our marriage over these past 5 years and have never been more proud and down right excited to call you my wife, date you, love you, and partner in ministry with you.</p><p class="MsoNormal">While we are returning to the city we left behind, let it be noted that the Atwoods are different people...in a very good way.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!...For from him and through him and to him are ALL THINGS. To him be the glory forever.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Amen.</p>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-6338527711860148212011-05-21T15:49:00.002-04:002011-05-21T16:02:54.900-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7eeX_s0CHhqIEvdUVBnNbYvxbdDE47WqPfvItLVVa5w15Ix2O-r8u2_Rj-7eUV_kpkp_B2fmPH_FreAMyml79AyQ51dHXhwEQ7sZYPg4qspKI1C5qW1RF2QPPhHx0-OJJ1TSGjlVqdXr/s1600/Atwoods+571+copy.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7eeX_s0CHhqIEvdUVBnNbYvxbdDE47WqPfvItLVVa5w15Ix2O-r8u2_Rj-7eUV_kpkp_B2fmPH_FreAMyml79AyQ51dHXhwEQ7sZYPg4qspKI1C5qW1RF2QPPhHx0-OJJ1TSGjlVqdXr/s400/Atwoods+571+copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609259183238260402" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">A few weeks back we had the honor of being photographed by a sweet friend/UNC college student/talented photographer, <a href="http://ashorephotography.blogspot.com/2011/04/chais-story.html">Anderson Shore</a>. We went out to <a href="http://www.chapel-hill-inn.com/">Bingham School Inn</a> in Meban for the shoot. We knew that we wanted to incorporate Chai's presence into some of our family photos so we brought some things along that remind us of him. Well Anderson being the sweet guy he is also had the same thought. He knows our families love for baseball and thought it would be cool to include Chai in a unique way. He brought a baseball for us all to pin something to Chai. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Please check out Anderson's <a href="http://ashorephotography.blogspot.com/2011/04/chais-story.html">website</a>. Hire him for a shoot. You will NOT be disappointed.</div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-10081869738375149422011-05-06T13:08:00.004-04:002011-05-06T13:26:37.357-04:00Cousins<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-KeH9BSbbrZdFzpNYxF73UEWwaCF4-qRqNOcFhEzpq2HpdCQ8Mz0zMWDmW2TXq4zYiN-x9KHP5m5U_mS2Y8IywU4ltuAg71AYDP4ralU54Md9XBp8v-8xSki1g3wMqQAHOGRVOF5TqLGc/s1600/DSC04745.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-KeH9BSbbrZdFzpNYxF73UEWwaCF4-qRqNOcFhEzpq2HpdCQ8Mz0zMWDmW2TXq4zYiN-x9KHP5m5U_mS2Y8IywU4ltuAg71AYDP4ralU54Md9XBp8v-8xSki1g3wMqQAHOGRVOF5TqLGc/s200/DSC04745.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603654894037463602" /></a></div>Ike woke up this morning kinda groggy, just not ready to start his day. He stayed this way for about an hour. When Ike is not quite ready to start his day, you just back off and let him come to when he is ready. After letting him lay around for a while I ask, "Ike what's the matter? You just not ready to start your day?" He said, "I wanna see Zethan." {For those unsure, that is one of their cousins in TN} Kids BREAKIN my heart!!<div><br /><div>Needless to say, we are looking forward to being back in Murfreesboro for many reasons, but one that stands out is being near family. It has been a long 5 years not having them near. As the boys get older the more they want to spend time with their cousins and hate leaving them to come back to NC. We spent the week before Easter in TN, house hunting. The boys got to spend some great quality time with Zethan, Trynna and Nathanael and Aunt Keyanna & Uncle Troy.</div><div><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIE3f2Bo10klDXeo1AEcEh6urkPRnAoVRJJ9y60wtJfFJxN0wy4T7Oz6G69XkHmkEcOQbzcuurqKYNT8vH462uRvJVzGOnB3x9j4b-KBgH2hHNvkMfL7aOT8MZoweNZokNRm3pK1kpfQFp/s200/DSC04728.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603654903928093570" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSuZcc36gADko18wbYft_1-ew5cWdLFVG8qr_lha0uPfLkfmLFFJLtHbFy4iUugepo3OTatiwOHWr1cN1sw2TfM1OieJpuUxjUfwNhiAUwPFSkdEn2G1ySbI1ytmWLYoXAC8JHoD10i0Ql/s200/DSC04732.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603654902380415186" /><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2XWOtpW0pA4sALR5NNs2AAmwPsInxRQYo97eI2zNgtbA7dvhMqcoclmFSgKDLFmR0ZjIelS8loKxBD1Lu1ILgYoofB_TPUTIUyUp_j-hFTO8HsvyZTOXRukgbvdYDqTh5kzXtKCIiuwj/s200/DSC04740.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603654895192480674" /></div><div><br /></div></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-18698036912662109342011-04-05T11:24:00.007-04:002011-04-05T12:45:44.186-04:00What A Day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1SfRDrNP3gV8GbXua_DWnhzPwbeNEHMhyphenhyphenxYpHHrMeV19Ef4ltMuBBcENgFG9yGwwKXOaavXmoStfeJgc7LGNsHjF_Aa2k1CkSv1Qiz4f5zbJLvcqet4A3IteCzIJbg1WZ7hgie_Ub2Lj/s1600/DSC04701.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1SfRDrNP3gV8GbXua_DWnhzPwbeNEHMhyphenhyphenxYpHHrMeV19Ef4ltMuBBcENgFG9yGwwKXOaavXmoStfeJgc7LGNsHjF_Aa2k1CkSv1Qiz4f5zbJLvcqet4A3IteCzIJbg1WZ7hgie_Ub2Lj/s200/DSC04701.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592121303782096610" /></a><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Team Atwood playing for North Durham Little League...</span></i></b><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Rookie Rays.</span></i></b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggoPs_wDy3cgqlnEN8-0_XOdpt_U9g75pf2lPdbVWPrLfdQMMnyLjOm4dA5aPdwVLUtbi2EuamSQKhwoVQpzcAc2Wxur4iTYSBkYgcBFPTYw5-j9c880cphVrcFqRYiw3QKJ1wODvI7xc/s320/CIMG0423.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592117183852988946" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px; " /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I believe Saturday could possibly go down as one of the best days ever for my boys. It started off with Opening Day for North Durham Little League. They got to walk and hold their banner {with their team name and players on it} in a parade. Then it was game time. They played their first game against the Red Sox. It was a really good game and close too. Isaac got an out on 3rd,which I think shocked him. They both did well hitting to the pitches thrown. Micah hit a double into the out-field. It was a great afternoon.</span><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifL-SAC-v3I7X-eTRxidtqxfejadyszO999huUU2l_fupexp6flqtXRnVJy32HPNTP0g4IEi1KpXWfduGfxHWcuPn07r2DpTAjp3nTc2uSt_HMkaZabKTs_rWTlylB2EKW355T3fTqP14/s320/CIMG0421.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592117183295402482" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px; " /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After the game Trevor and I headed out of town for the night to visit with a church in VA and share the vision of City Church. We had our trusty and best babysitter, Whitney, staying with them for the night. She had a special treat planned for the boys. You see, she is friends with one of the starting UNC basketball players...Tyler Zeller and we are HUGE UNC fans {Micah even pretends to be Tyler all the time}. So Whitney being the sweet person she is made plans with him, that included my boys. He came over for dinner, played Wii with them, autographed several UNC paraphernalia and even read their bedtime story to them. To say the least they were over the moon.</span><div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;">We are so grateful for these opportunities afforded to us by living so near UNC and having these great connections. My boys will remember this</span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCftj9VVYvlUpoBipOrs4FlzIc0_EOhCnyYfhIn3TMQdKxqokcnv1fy96tzUktHohXDkEh4TPPZ2ZtGfLcV2Ei8n8yWTGSwiPUVJjPp9PyHq188cpBaehD7vFOnWZdEd7g7K-0dPw3zEU/s200/DSC04715.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592115564259871602" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">day for a very long time {with Micah's memory, probably forever}.</span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">{Per usual M has his eye's shut, but its a great pic of Ike & Zeller}</span></div></div></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-42419608123241068652011-03-24T13:39:00.004-04:002011-03-24T13:50:00.576-04:00Micah's Special Chapel Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9YIM-JN4qgvfF1XPuVbcBjC0bZnk1L3wcAyUiW1Gb0LA-jKhVsEjRbpc7szheovMV9B_MIIrVkU9XoeqG0WZZtnRUOaefscU7umOz6Slln1hjO8vOsw_FUHQN3Y6d_XuTXq1y_tGBX4pP/s1600/DSC04680.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9YIM-JN4qgvfF1XPuVbcBjC0bZnk1L3wcAyUiW1Gb0LA-jKhVsEjRbpc7szheovMV9B_MIIrVkU9XoeqG0WZZtnRUOaefscU7umOz6Slln1hjO8vOsw_FUHQN3Y6d_XuTXq1y_tGBX4pP/s200/DSC04680.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587703563504229410" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Micah's precious 1st grade class</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4x6fce4oP0ie4R6klTPpz6JBaOPph1qGuDl47kfmEZzlCce-iWRFXRFLYyG1iyweDOTwe94SiCD4bPr1l6TNOcSZxV9MoJoe4OAO4Yb-kdl-YdiSN8IhU9yvEVC32tt_X68OgPm3LhdLv/s1600/DSC04677.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4x6fce4oP0ie4R6klTPpz6JBaOPph1qGuDl47kfmEZzlCce-iWRFXRFLYyG1iyweDOTwe94SiCD4bPr1l6TNOcSZxV9MoJoe4OAO4Yb-kdl-YdiSN8IhU9yvEVC32tt_X68OgPm3LhdLv/s200/DSC04677.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587703561972246610" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Micah delivering his line</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">On Monday the 1st grade class hosted chapel with a skit on forgiveness and friendship, </span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The Great Art Fiasco</span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. Micah was given the script a few weeks ago and we began memorizing his line and where he came in the order to say it. He has a photographic memory (okay not really, but pretty darn close) so things like this are not usually difficult. The more difficult thing is him saying his line in front of an audience. But over the past year he has gotten increasingly braver. Here are a few pictures. Since my zoom is broken on my camera, this is a close as it gets...sorry.</span>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-34955553404130870422011-03-18T12:59:00.006-04:002011-03-19T17:17:20.011-04:00Encouragement<div style="text-align: center;"><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class=" id="></span></p></div><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Alexander family { Team Alexander } was and continues to be such an encouragement to me in my faith, love for orphans and their incredible strength, that they solely attribute to Jesus. They began the adoption process around the same time we did with Isaac. It has been an amazing journey to watch unfold. They have heart for Africa that is unmatched. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">You can follow their entire journey</span><b><i><a href="http://teamalexander.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> here</span></a></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But </span><b><i><a href="http://teamalexander.blogspot.com/2011/03/sets-lonely-in-families.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">this</span></a></i></b><a href="http://teamalexander.blogspot.com/2011/03/sets-lonely-in-families.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">blog post is one I want to share with those families waiting for the doors to open in Ethiopia. Be encouraged and know you are being prayed for...by so many.</span></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-5202055444008980912011-03-07T09:53:00.011-05:002011-03-24T13:51:15.351-04:00Are We Alone?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZN5mexQEN4JgfZU_hqqL1BtG5xcXIK1uVlgefw70I96wAgbewS_WKoAFlR1P_pfW32gz1rzGgnfP-X80eqKDmvHTjXLOnYLcq58fkE7855dtptb2XaBtkdFZ6_iV1VEEgl4ValpzhJ5zz/s1600/Keva_s_Heart.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZN5mexQEN4JgfZU_hqqL1BtG5xcXIK1uVlgefw70I96wAgbewS_WKoAFlR1P_pfW32gz1rzGgnfP-X80eqKDmvHTjXLOnYLcq58fkE7855dtptb2XaBtkdFZ6_iV1VEEgl4ValpzhJ5zz/s200/Keva_s_Heart.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581552119092968706" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-size:17px;"><div><p style="text-align: left;color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:180%;color:#666666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></p></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">One week ago today one of our closest friends lost their baby by miscarriage. It has been a week of reflection for me. I have tried to be mindful of the things that I know they may go through in the days and weeks to come. It has had me retrace those first days and weeks after we lost Chai.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">One of many things I have learned through the loss of a child is that no matter whether you child dies by miscarriage or a day old or 10 years old, the pain and grief is real. You grieve the things you will never get to experience with your son or daughter, you grieve the incompleteness of your family and that it will be that way until Jesus returns. You grieve the loss for your children, that they will not get to experience this life with that sister or brother. Each holiday, each anniversary is a painful reality that someone is missing, that this isn't the way it is supposed to be.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Are we alone? I read a book by Elizabeth Brown called </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Surviving the Loss of a Child, </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">a couple of months after Chai died. She and her family lost their daughter suddenly at the age of 5 (if I remember correctly). The first chapter is,</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Are We Alone? </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It is quite an eye opening chapter, here is a little of what she has to share.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"We are alone, alone in the world. Children don't die. I mean real children, children who have been born and leave the hospital. I don't know anyone whose child died. No one looks at us. Everyone looks down or to the side. They know children don't die. They know! I know!"</span></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"But children do die. Every year in America, 228,000 children under the age of 24 die. Fifteen out of every hundred infants die before his or her first birthday: 28,600 deaths per year due primarily to prematurity or low birth weight. In addition there are 980,000 miscarriages and stillborn baby deaths per year."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"So, its a myth that children do not die! Children do die! When your child dies, you are no alone. You are not the only person to survive such a tragedy. You, like others, will survive-if you choose to."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I choose to share this information not to be cold or insensitive {which is how I felt when I first read it}, but rather to say, "We are </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">not</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> alone." We must be careful not to throw those statistics around and make my loss or someone else's just a number. We must reach out to those who are hurting. We must be the hands and feet of Jesus for those grieving. I pray everyone who reads this never faces such a lose, but I know that many reading this already have, and you need those that love you near and far to share the hope that is to come. That one day, we will see our beautiful perfected children. One day there will be no more crying. One day there will be no more pain. One day Jesus is going to return and set this broken world right again.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I have spent all morning praying over these words. Praying that God would give me great concern and love for those who have faced the loss of a son or daughter. Praying that God would be their comfort and their hope.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">" For in this hope we are saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">we do not see, we wait for it with patience."</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Romans 8:24-25</span></span></div></span></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-44261490475663617592011-03-03T13:07:00.004-05:002011-03-03T13:17:07.098-05:00Mike & Ike<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-Ewh92lcukH9b2CY4qTo_oBijXB4CWT5Myo4VjurHc1kAYK-C2HNElHlw-Sn9IfNIg1_5L56YBTcNcafCufSe0yc1e-ZuJr0lJpTfdQ-BV-uA5CrXhaZNMqkE7AyR22O0mp_EM4eQG9R/s1600/DSC04612.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-Ewh92lcukH9b2CY4qTo_oBijXB4CWT5Myo4VjurHc1kAYK-C2HNElHlw-Sn9IfNIg1_5L56YBTcNcafCufSe0yc1e-ZuJr0lJpTfdQ-BV-uA5CrXhaZNMqkE7AyR22O0mp_EM4eQG9R/s200/DSC04612.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579919001368632226" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn6OZ-9CEGjj7wIDxBOPBeiDKIOid-rmtUUstA9gY_4rHZZeh7ORhHwDh5Mp5G4hY8icBV0yvKtBfCM3wLYGp5q9iQoEkvfvEaXu9dhX3ZBY9FWCYPxBrnz3c78ktOG35214FYBvU_wHc6/s1600/DSC04408.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn6OZ-9CEGjj7wIDxBOPBeiDKIOid-rmtUUstA9gY_4rHZZeh7ORhHwDh5Mp5G4hY8icBV0yvKtBfCM3wLYGp5q9iQoEkvfvEaXu9dhX3ZBY9FWCYPxBrnz3c78ktOG35214FYBvU_wHc6/s200/DSC04408.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579918997844139474" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRU27StTgHTC_374dbi2zVM7rLs_Du9YY5ym1rRhAL-ASsmZm5MXNI1iXlQKLJp_exy-PXL7nONU1K_FF6l_ugyDjcAokLj8_9n2HWmZt-HVLRsQRAhKl-oFao1inh2N3WPA8l3eExQo-C/s1600/DSC04572.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRU27StTgHTC_374dbi2zVM7rLs_Du9YY5ym1rRhAL-ASsmZm5MXNI1iXlQKLJp_exy-PXL7nONU1K_FF6l_ugyDjcAokLj8_9n2HWmZt-HVLRsQRAhKl-oFao1inh2N3WPA8l3eExQo-C/s200/DSC04572.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579918994699766418" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi34b6KVjflaKHlKu5nryqC-zbc5SnBuWDiZPeaJrUhik_XSyO1_IWwImptJiGqK10nozHj6bfwSdWhpHHsfFaDRRHHK-5tGQWcO0O1bi5kOuuprbLK9v2G0Svv0RsWHIn302rWwHK_Ginq/s1600/DSC04501.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi34b6KVjflaKHlKu5nryqC-zbc5SnBuWDiZPeaJrUhik_XSyO1_IWwImptJiGqK10nozHj6bfwSdWhpHHsfFaDRRHHK-5tGQWcO0O1bi5kOuuprbLK9v2G0Svv0RsWHIn302rWwHK_Ginq/s200/DSC04501.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579918991822164770" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This is what happens when my kids get ahold of the camera. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> The "faces" of Mike & Ike.</div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-30255563612808378732011-02-19T18:38:00.004-05:002011-02-19T18:45:00.929-05:00Family Picture<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8-mtSBIlQhv4ed2xXQIk2Z-P6ScDz7Yr4tftV-R-8ZdpNX_g7SQngUEqA3hFqPUi-RRJc_Bax7Hri_EjIYCPWcmSjCOZwpqKk4KUdvGHLdxl37QXXyRj1ZgkuNNyhT5Zd9eJ9qBnDoViE/s1600/DSC04627.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8-mtSBIlQhv4ed2xXQIk2Z-P6ScDz7Yr4tftV-R-8ZdpNX_g7SQngUEqA3hFqPUi-RRJc_Bax7Hri_EjIYCPWcmSjCOZwpqKk4KUdvGHLdxl37QXXyRj1ZgkuNNyhT5Zd9eJ9qBnDoViE/s200/DSC04627.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575550708808647250" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Micah was given the task to do an art project for the school's Art Week. We were told the idea, the conception had to be his. He wanted and did paint a picture of his family. I am so proud. I love the way God uses our children to reveal and remind us who He is.</div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-68743651603333363012011-02-17T11:33:00.003-05:002011-02-17T11:40:08.232-05:00Bedtime<div style="text-align: left;">The other night after putting the boys to bed, we heard lots of laughter and movement coming from the boys room. We knew they were probably out of their beds doing something mischievous, but we let it ride. They were having fun. Later that night after all was quiet we went to check on them...and this is how we found them. Ike had crawled up into Micah's bunk and fell asleep. </div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_Eqy7cPcu5fQ4sGBcklPDo_SMFWuLTv-BM3Qfsz51d5GaIb58C5zggSW0sUKMyEKKOwkCA83_sJLq_WkNbML1i54VFFw01QdND7qr0SDtXYQDANtCzDDNgw9SXtU5UQPdYwKNT6d073e/s200/DSC04630.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574698463858132418" /><div style="text-align: center;">Absolutely Precious!!</div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-34696219987812953192011-02-14T12:47:00.005-05:002011-02-14T13:10:31.989-05:00Happy Adoption Day<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMPAm73l7_E-TjMkBcE_dJp4jHN01eCa_PdEnN5x_H9cQVOjnMsLrtqxHRcalTFLKro202bUqeNePorQy6IpbhKPetCIh_xlv7-2ccuHFPXHb4hE3OglpH2GdASrTwjoyLss_vACO5-gC/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMPAm73l7_E-TjMkBcE_dJp4jHN01eCa_PdEnN5x_H9cQVOjnMsLrtqxHRcalTFLKro202bUqeNePorQy6IpbhKPetCIh_xlv7-2ccuHFPXHb4hE3OglpH2GdASrTwjoyLss_vACO5-gC/s320/Picture+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166847890648649250" border="0" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-size:130%;"></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-size:130%;"></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-size:130%;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://trevkeva.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html">Valentine's Day 2008</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigeUolG2DevFAje5sI6gDIirUpJiyDad3q4RP7YBddvehy85Di5Z5nNCys_SvUwBbXQU7RAdYwyLiSPQ8GDx579sOYME-iXbHCpU3wo5NEKEzqRmPUoSmGx4DcWdOkyfmC9lbLAFP5ImiU/s320/DSC03006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302731208499180594" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><a href="http://trevkeva.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html">Valentine's Day 2009</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">(there is no blog post for 2010)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dv_FbojyGer6G64oOHp4UdElhwMjo5aMSt6zJAnCijQ3thtfjRZif63TnmStX988TfDMOf1aKP5V17KotwywHRpPbMhBywIm0mpkAIy-fG5N42083GNFpenX6hPFGnilXY6648ktwC0o/s200/DSC04312.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573605229860237826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMPAm73l7_E-TjMkBcE_dJp4jHN01eCa_PdEnN5x_H9cQVOjnMsLrtqxHRcalTFLKro202bUqeNePorQy6IpbhKPetCIh_xlv7-2ccuHFPXHb4hE3OglpH2GdASrTwjoyLss_vACO5-gC/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"></a></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMPAm73l7_E-TjMkBcE_dJp4jHN01eCa_PdEnN5x_H9cQVOjnMsLrtqxHRcalTFLKro202bUqeNePorQy6IpbhKPetCIh_xlv7-2ccuHFPXHb4hE3OglpH2GdASrTwjoyLss_vACO5-gC/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMPAm73l7_E-TjMkBcE_dJp4jHN01eCa_PdEnN5x_H9cQVOjnMsLrtqxHRcalTFLKro202bUqeNePorQy6IpbhKPetCIh_xlv7-2ccuHFPXHb4hE3OglpH2GdASrTwjoyLss_vACO5-gC/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Valentine's Day 2011</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">Isaac has been telling me all day that this is "<i>my pecial day."</i> Indeed it is son. Today you have been an Atwood for 3 years. I cannot believe how much you have grown and changed. You have melted our hearts and we could not imagine our life without you in it. We thank God for you today. He has wonderfully made you. You are: healthy, cute as a button, independent, curious about life and the world, tender and tough, competitive, boy are you competitive and you love your brothers, Micah & Chai. As your parents, Mommy and Daddy are forever grateful for how God has shown Himself through your adoption into our family.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">HAPPY ADOPTION DAY ISAAC SENTAYEHU ATWOOD!!!!</span></span></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-88756566843578784852011-02-13T20:14:00.001-05:002011-02-13T21:23:34.542-05:00The Top of The Stairs<i>This is Trevor's take on the one year anniversary of the discovery of Keva's pregnancy as described in the post below.</i><div><i><br /></i></div><div>I'm not sure how many times I've read "I Love You Forever" to our boys, but there is one part of that book that arrests me each time I read it. The story is about a mother who watches her son grow up and each time you, the reader, think he is too big to be picked up and rocked by his Mom, there she is with a 9 year-old, a teenager, and even a grown man in her lap as she sings "I love you forever, I like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."</div><div><br /></div><div>(SPOILER ALERT) Toward the end of the short book, the mother has gotten old and near death when the son reverses the pattern. He holds his elderly mother and rocks her as he sings "I love you forever." </div><div><br /></div><div>The next page is where I always get a little choked up. It reads, "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">When the son came home that night, he stood for a long time at the top of the stairs." The picture on this page shows the son frozen at the top of his stairs, head down, just outside his newborn baby's room. What's he thinking? What's he feeling? I know now.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">At the top of the stairs, he pauses, as he contemplates the death of his mother and the new life of his son. Death and life mingled together in a moment. I've been there.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I remember how alive I felt on February 12, 2010. We were finally pregnant. I remember Micah and Isaac's excitement when we told them over pancakes on a cold, February, Saturday morning. In all of the preparation for Chai's arrival, there was a buzz and an expectancy of something great in our house. Then came July 12. I will never forget the moment I knew there was no hope left for Chai's frail little body to make it. I came out of the neo-natal unit and told my sons and our parents the news. Shortly after, my precious little son would breathe his last breath in my arms. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A day or two later, (I really had lost all track of what day it was by then) I had my "top of the stairs" moment. I was driving home alone to be with the boys for a few hours. Before I got out of the car, I couldn't help but think about all three of my sons. Could they just be together for one day? Now, they are separated by death. Two very alive little boys will never be able to hold, feed, and play with their little brother because of the curse of death. In that moment, I prayed for the wisdom and strength to face my sons, to help them to understand both the reality of death and truth of the resurrection to come in Christ. I knew then that my family had been chosen for something special. Not special in the sense of its uniqueness, but in the depth of the results.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">At "the top of the stairs", we feel the pain death brings but look to the hope of new life. This is the cross. Jesus felt the pain of sin and death as he prepared to be the firstborn from the dead, and the first of many brothers and sisters for whom death would not be an eternal condition. That Saturday, between the pain of Friday afternoon and the glory of Sunday morning, was a "top of the stairs" moment. The time we are now in, between the cross and the restoration of all things upon Christ's return, is a perpetual "top of the stairs" moment. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The great news in those "top of the stairs" moments, is the immanent new life. That's what I have in Christ. That's what my family hangs on in difficult moments in the year following Chai's death. Death is painful, but new life is coming. My boys will get to see their baby brother, not for one day, but forever. My memory of watching my son die will be replaced with the sight of him in a glorious resurrection body. Sorrow to joy. Pain to peace. Death to Life.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">When I visit my son's grave on days like this, I can't help but visualize that memorial stone cracked down the center, lying at the head of an empty grave. Huh- kind of reminds me of another stone that sat outside another empty grave. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Come quickly, Lord Jesus...and bring our little brother with you.</span></span></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-69633774109234575032011-02-13T17:47:00.005-05:002011-02-13T20:13:22.320-05:00One Year & Seven Months<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmtOoK6rLFWWxv5CY-Ya2-BITeUJ2SW8mLWY0ouwpsqSkSzCCegAxdkDlE3nX-tsN1WQPdSX6GYKFdBA-kswk0lZcz0OgXBmdCkAFmcHdx4kWgLXpUoVPVegi_nExRBhnk8ln-2k1ra4A/s1600/DSC04601.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmtOoK6rLFWWxv5CY-Ya2-BITeUJ2SW8mLWY0ouwpsqSkSzCCegAxdkDlE3nX-tsN1WQPdSX6GYKFdBA-kswk0lZcz0OgXBmdCkAFmcHdx4kWgLXpUoVPVegi_nExRBhnk8ln-2k1ra4A/s200/DSC04601.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573344027260523442" /></a><br />Yesterday was a beautiful day. We got up late (we being Trevor & I, the boys were up by 6am), I made waffles and the boys played Wii. At noon we got the boys dressed for Little League evaluations, went to the ball field and watched our boys do their very best to pitch, run, catch and field. Afterwards we went to Chai's grave and told him all about our day. It was a great day, but one that came with an introspective and meditative heart. February 12th, the marks the one year anniversary of finding out some of the best news in the world: that we were pregnant. Seven months ago was the hardest day of my life, the day my sweet son died after 25 hrs of life.<div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(97, 97, 97); line-height: 18px; white-space: nowrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><img src="http://www.mckenziebooks.com/store/images/T/9780920668375.jpg" alt="Love You Forever" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(97, 97, 97); line-height: 18px; white-space: nowrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><br /></span></div><div>The other night as I lay in bed with the boys, I told them I wanted to choose our book for the night. I chose <i>Love You Forever</i>. The boys did their usual, "This <i>was </i>me mommy," and "This <i>will be</i> me mommy," bit as I got it off the shelf. But tonight I said, "We are gonna read in memory of Chai." As I read it we talked about all things Chai would have done had he lived and how fun life would have been with a little brother. But the thing that rang most true to me was the song the mother sang to her son each night.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>I love you forever</i></div><div><i>I like you for always</i></div><div><i>As long as I'm living</i></div><div><i>My baby you will be.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">You see I needed that night to know and feel, that Chai </span>will <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">always be my son. Just because he is not here doesn't mean he stops being my son. When Trevor got home that night I had a good cry. I just told him how hard this last month and half has been for me. In the past month I have had the hopes of being pregnant, the pain of finding out I'm not, found out several people close to me are pregnant, walked through grief with our neighbor whose husband suddenly died, and met another mom who has lost a son who was able to soothe my soul by reminding me that I'm not alone. All along February 12th loomed in the near future.</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">One of the things I told Trevor was that I feel strong enough now to answer the question , "How many kids do you have?" with "Three." You see, I think it is a common instinct to desire to protect others from feeling bad or guilty when asking a question they have no idea is going to cause you so much pain. So, for the past three months I would answer that question, "Two." But it always caused me such pain, because I felt I was leaving Chai out, in essence saying, he is not my son because he is not here. This could not be further from the truth. </span>As long as I'm living my baby you will be.</i> I am strong enough now, to answer that question and not fear man's response. I'm sorry if it causes you some discomfort, but it is my heart's desire to share Chai and his story with the world. <i>One day for the fame of Jesus and the glory of God. </i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">In the midst of it all, God continues to be my peace and my rest. It doesn't mean the hurt goes away or the memories aren't painful, but it does mean when those times creep in, I can go to Him and give Him my hurts and my fears and my doubts. In return He graciously comforts me and increases my faith in him. My relationship with God and His gospel has grown and strengthened in this deep suffering. I love Him more with each passing day. I am more grateful for the days He gives me with my children and my husband. It is not promised to me, it is by His grace that we have another day. </span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">So I continue to dance the dance that is grief, but I do it with God as my partner. If I stumble, if I fall, He is right there to pick me up. For that I am forever grateful. </span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></i><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-92061266557306484082011-02-09T13:35:00.002-05:002011-02-09T13:43:54.912-05:00Something NewSo, I have been struggling with the fact that this blog was once a family blog with stories of adoption, joys and struggles of family life and suffering, that has now been taken over by food. I did not like the flow of the posts. Therefore, I started a new blog. This blog will be about food, my funny family, art and whatever else I find myself <a href="http://keva-smitten.blogspot.com">Smitten</a> by.<div><br /></div><div>Hop on over for a quick look. Please forgive the fact that the post are ALL out of order. I had to move them from this blog to that one and in doing so they got out of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">wack</span>. I hope to have a new post up very soon...maybe on both.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks for following.</div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-64886664980943307722011-02-05T13:03:00.006-05:002011-02-05T19:50:43.929-05:00Nearly One Year Ago...I realize it has been a while since I last wrote about Chai. I often have things I want to share but so often cant find the courage to write my thoughts down for the world to see. There are always milestones we are missing and holidays we will never share with Chai and anniversarys of things to celebrate.<div><br /></div><div>February 12th, is one of those days. It was a busy day for me. I was putting the final touches on last minute things to get done for my annual Pink & Red Party for that evening. Trevor was working from home that day and he was encouraging me to go buy a pregnancy test. I had some symptoms, but I pushed them out of my head. We had been married at this point for 11yrs and it had never happened before, so there was no need to be in any hurry to spend $10 on a pregnancy test that would eventually tell me NO. Trevor nonetheless, was adamant I go buy one. We all know the outcome. I was pregnant!! Much to both my and Trevor's astonishment. We just stood and stared at each other in complete shock and utter excitement.</div><div><br /></div><div>I did not know how in the world I was going to keep my glow and excitement a secret from all my friends who would be showing up at my house that evening. One by one they came in the door. I remember looking around my house at each of the women, Jill was pregnant; Veronica brought Adon, then 6wks old; Anna brought HattieJo, then a few months old; Cher who was also probably pregnant with her kahjillionth son. There were probably many more, but nonetheless I remember looking at each and thinking I am going to go through each of these stages and I was just so thrilled. </div><div><br /></div><div>It has been a solemn January, with this date looming in the distance. Life doesn't stop going on despite my pain and my grief. People continue to get pregnant and have beautiful babies and there is the constant reminder that death is still a part of life in the broken world.</div><div><br /></div><div>This week, Trevor and I had the chance to go to Orlando for the Resurgence Conference and Acts29 Bootcamp. It was such a good refreshment for my soul. <a href="http://www.crpc.org/pastor-tullians-story">Tullian Tchividjian</a> and <a href="http://fm.thevillagechurch.net/blog/pastors/">Matt Chandler</a> did an amazing job speaking to suffering. They both said that suffering brings us to end of ourselves and brings us to a deeper and necessary reliance on Jesus. They said suffering has provided a depth to the gospel that otherwise they may never have realized. It is a reminder that the world we live in is broken and groaning for it to be set right again. That until that time, there will be death, sickness, natural disasters, homelessness, starvation, disease and pain. This is not God's punishment for a fallen world. He loves us and hurts with us. His heart breaks over this fallen and broken world. </div><div><br /></div><div>In God's providence, we met another couple at this conference. I happened to overhear this man telling some other men in a group that he had 3 boys, two that were alive and one that had died. Of course hearing this broke my heart. Once I got back to my seat, I told Trevor what I had just overheard in passing. He said, "I know him, that's Aaron Proffitt, a church planter in Tampa. I have sent him a couple messages on FB." We finally met Aaron and his wife Ashlee. We had the great privilege of having lunch and sharing our stories of grief, suffering, God's grace and unending love. As I sat with Ashlee, I felt so much like she and I were alike, in more ways than one. She was such an encouragement to me and Aaron to Trevor. Their <a href="http://ashleeproffitt.blogspot.com/2009/04/no-words.html">story</a> of death, life, and church planting is one we needed to hear and one we will remember always.</div><div><br /></div><div>We are so grateful that God is sovereign and brings comfort and encouragement at the most unexpected times from unexpected people.</div><div><br /></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-58739533092945936882010-12-14T21:34:00.003-05:002010-12-14T21:43:31.861-05:00Chai's Story through VideoWe were recently privileged to be asked to share Chai's story at one of our church's Christmas events. It is always difficult to re-tell, but completely worth it for the fame of Jesus. Below is our story along with another couple's in our church that speak to the reality of pain and loss and understanding where and who God is in the midst of that.<div><br /></div><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/17683562" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0"></iframe><div><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/17682377" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0"></iframe><br /><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/17683502" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><br /></p></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-7498694674637774162010-10-12T09:32:00.004-04:002010-10-12T11:15:16.409-04:00Aftermath: A Review<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNILBo1pnfoOwozNpQLZu1MVTnUqcFj5H98xX6Ms0dcZkyiRHbnoG4BpBFf3z6UbqXh4h49B65XMzgJuru7kTiLzyQbpRhUdS4JvYJE3cNdTwyGA3C4rw5wcQzKrEvs1oP3foYNWEh9awJ/s1600/Blog-Album-Cover.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNILBo1pnfoOwozNpQLZu1MVTnUqcFj5H98xX6Ms0dcZkyiRHbnoG4BpBFf3z6UbqXh4h49B65XMzgJuru7kTiLzyQbpRhUdS4JvYJE3cNdTwyGA3C4rw5wcQzKrEvs1oP3foYNWEh9awJ/s200/Blog-Album-Cover.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527169619121863282" /></a><br /><div>I have been given the great privilege of reviewing the debut album of Aftermath, entitled the Aftertaste of Abandonment. I'll do this in two parts: the Music and the Man.</div><div><br /></div><div>1) <b>The Music</b>- The quality is above outstanding...and that does not come with the "for a debut album" caveat. The recording quality, lyrical content, and vocal/instrumental execution would rival the likes of the Goo Goo Dolls, Lifehouse, or Switchfoot. This is top notch stuff. My kids are already singing it, and my wife is quoting the lyrics to me. The music is both addicting and deep and speaks of the deep hurt that comes from sin and the brokenness of a fallen world. </div><div><br /></div><div>This is NOT a contemporary Christian or "worship" CD in the traditional sense. Nor was it intended to be. However, the lyrics drip with Truth and will identify with anyone who has suffered rejection, loss, or death. I can certainly speak to this due to the death of Chai this summer. Even yesterday, as we sat at my son's grave, Keva told me that the lyrics to "Darkness Calls" (the opening track) kept ringing in her head. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; ">Darkness is calling, it’s calling both of our names</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; ">But I just want to hold you close ’til daylight</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; ">Stay with you one last time tonight</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; ">If only time’s hands were broken then maybe hearts could heal</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span></div><div>These lyrics are indicative of the album. The raw exposure of the human emotion that comes from loss, rejection, or abandonment are on full display. As a person who has experienced great loss, I appreciate the way Aftermath taps into that emotion. </div><div><br /></div><div>But whether you have been through those experiences or not, you will find yourself singing the lyrics long after you have turned your iPod off. The voice of Aftermath is one that is both pleasant to listen to and addictive. You will find yourself constantly going back to replay tracks to just to hear the way they are sung. There is no doubt something unique about the vocals on this record.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>2) The Man</b>- I have had the great pleasure of knowing Jonathan Edwards (aka. Aftermath) for 2.5 years. He has served under me in college ministry at the Summit Church. I have never met a more multi-talented person in my life. </div><div><br /></div><div>One of the things I have loved most about watching Jonathan make this album is seeing the way God has formed his heart for the purpose of the CD. Jonathan has experienced a great deal of abandonment in his life. However, he has also experienced the unchanging love of God in Christ...and that has made all the difference. </div><div><br /></div><div>While this CD primarily addresses the emotion that comes from that abandonment, he did not want to leave his listeners without hope. In his liner notes, Jonathan points to Christ as the solution for the brokenness he has experienced in a honest way. I believe that this CD could be the beginning of pointing many people to the healing that they will find in Christ. As Jonathan has trusted Christ in the midst of his difficulty, he also has pointed others to the God of infinite love. </div><div><br /></div><div>For that reason, I am very proud of him. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here's what you need to know about getting this music:</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><!--StartFragment--><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;"><span style="font-size:13.0px">1. The release of the CD: November 9th, 2010 on iTunes & Amazon.com<br /><br />2. The Official CD release Show: November 19th, 2010 at 7PM taking place at 2335 Presidential Drive, Durham, NC 27703 featuring Jess Ray & The Rag Tag Army, Jordan Sasser, and Daniel Renstrom<br /><br />3. Visit the website for the NEW music video available today, 10/12, at Noon <span style="color:#0000FF;"><u><a href="http://www.WeAreTheAftermath.com/">http://www.WeAreTheAftermath.com/</a></u></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; "><br /></span></span></div><div><br /><div><br /><br /></div></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-14568469682598899722010-10-09T10:10:00.002-04:002010-10-09T10:45:20.167-04:00Remembering ChaiMonday, October 11th, will most likely be unremarkable. I will be in class. Micah will be at school. Keva will be at the grocery store with Isaac. You will be starting a new week of work, drinking copious amounts of coffee, and hoping for Friday. <div><br /></div><div>October 11th was not supposed to be this way. Not for the Atwoods or you, our family and friends. It was supposed to be a celebration of life. It was the day that Chai Samuel was supposed to be born. So much of me wishes I was in charge. I want to change things. I want my son to live. I want to bring him home and experience the sleepless nights with a newborn. I want to rock him to sleep in sleep in my easy chair. I want to see Keva gently sing him to sleep. I want Micah and Isaac to take turns holding him in their laps. I'll never forget the day Chai died, Micah looked at me with tears welled up in his eyes, trying to hold it together and said, "But Dad, I won't ever get to feed him."</div><div><br /></div><div>For each of our family, we have a long list of reasons we miss Chai and still deeply mourn his death. However, I am resolved on October 11th to remember not what could have been, but what is...and there is some glorious truth to be celebrated (though not without a deep sense of loss). As my family is together on Monday evening, our dinner conversation will be filled with our thoughts of Chai, his short life, and his deep impact on our family and many others around the world. As we look back through the pictures of his birth and funeral, we will surely miss him. We will cry, and that is a good thing. Because beneath the tears resides a very lasting sure hope that God desires Chai's life even more than I do. Chai is safe with God in Christ. And we will be with him again.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Here is how we would like you to join us in remembering Chai on his originally given due date:</b></div><div><b>1) Comment on this post (or send an email to trevkeva@gmail.com for more privacy) and let us know how Chai Samuel's short life has made a permanent impression on yours.</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>2) Spend the evening with your family, if you can, and let them know specifically how you understand God has blessed you with their lives. Hug your children and thank God for blessing of raising them.</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>3) Read and meditate on Romans 8:14-25 and 2 Cor 4:16-18. Ask God to show you if you are living in the reality of this hope and to prepare you for the suffering that is to come. Ask him to make you an instrument to display the reality of hope in Christ. </b></div><div><br /></div><div>I hope that you will remember with us as we wait for the coming of Christ, the renewal of creation, and the day our future hope fades into ever-present glory. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.</div><div><br /></div><div>Chai's Proud and hopeful Daddy,</div><div><br /></div><div>Trev</div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3849592257188730497.post-21197500483090145782010-08-15T10:56:00.004-04:002010-08-15T12:44:34.139-04:00Final Resting Place: the Thoughts of a Mourning Mother<div>What is written below is from Keva, my dear wife. </div><div><br /></div><div>Often husbands brag on their wives, probably not nearly enough, though. Many times that admiration comes off as a comparison of her to other women. Sometimes there is a place for that. That is not what I am trying to express here. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I have witnessed the one person I love more than any other on earth go through the most painful event she has ever had to endure, I can say that I am very proud of her. But I do not compare her with other women, at least in the sense of saying, "Keva handled this so well where other women would not have done nearly as well." No, my comparison, and my pride in her is wholly attributed to the work of God in her life through the gospel of Christ. In other words, I think about who she is now compared with the Keva she was before Christ. </div><div><br /></div><div>Pre-Christ Keva could never have said, "God you are good, and I trust you!" all the while weeping, longing to hold her son in her arms again. The Keva who had not experienced the transformation that comes through a deep trust in Jesus who traded places with her on the cross could never have lifted her eyes to heaven in the midst of deep pain and said, "Thy will be done."</div><div><br /></div><div>She is not perfect. But she is a saint. Not because of what she has done, but because of who God has made her in Christ. I love her more deeply now than ever. Here are her words</div><div><br /></div>"As I try to process the death of Chai, there are many things that I remember as key moments. One of them is that which surrounds the death itself. When Chai died we stepped into a whole new world. One filled with funeral and burial arrangements. I have been fortunate in my life to have not lost very many people who are close to me. Therefore, I was completely unaware of the process of burying my son. Thankfully we had people around who stepped up in big ways to walk us through what that entailed.<div><br /></div><div>To this day I have a hard time thinking about him once his soul left his body. I only want to remember him alive. The moment he died, Trevor and I kissed him goodbye and handed him over to the doctors. However, once I handed him over, I was filled with grief and anxiety over what would happen next to him. Would they hold him tenderly? Where would they take him?Would he be left alone? The nurses dressed him and took pictures of him, for which we are grateful, but I have a hard time thinking about that process. They had to hold him and dress him and position/pose him for the pictures. It is hard to think of anyone holding him and preparing him for what was to come. </div><div><br /></div><div>During the swirling chaos that had become our life the week of his death (buying funeral clothes for the boys, dry cleaning Trevor's suit, picking a funeral home, making the arrangements, picking a cemetery and his final "resting place"), I was at peace with God. As heartbroken as I was, I new that God loved Chai more than I ever could. That He was not taking him to punish me, and that Chai was in His arms and one day I will see my sweet boy again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Going to a funeral home and making the arrangements for your son's burial is not something I would ever want any parent to go through. When they walk you to a room filled with adult size caskets and point to the only casket they carry for infants its gut-wrenching. I looked at the casket and was screaming inside. "This is it?" "This is what i have to choose, there are no others to pick from?" Then she said something that shook me to my core, "He can always be buried in the box he is currently in." I had not processed yet where he was and what had been done with his sweet little body from the time I handed him away to this. The fact that he was there in that very building laying in a box somewhere all alone crushed me. She then proceeded to ask if we wanted to see the box he was in, in case we wanted to use it. I nearly collapsed, I said,"NO! Dont touch him, don't move him, leave him be." I know she was not trying to be insensitive, but she was talking about my son, who was laying in a cold plastic coffin wrapped in nothing but a blanket. He was all alone and I wanted to scream, "IT'S NOT FAIR!!!"</div><div><br /></div><div>The day of the funeral was very surreal. My extended family was in my home taking care of us. They helped me and the boys get dressed. I honestly don't know what we would have done without them and our close friends that never left our side. What I remember most about that day, is the strength God gave me. I had been asking friends and family to pray on my behalf, that God would give me the physical strength to walk and stand in honor of my son. I did not want to be wheeled into the church (for those of you reading that may not know, i had an emergency c-section w/Chai). He was so gracious to me, I knew as I walked the aisle, stood for songs and received hugs from everyone there, that God had answered my prayers. He lovingly held me up and where Chai had no voice, Trevor and I stood for him. </div><div><br /></div><div>A month after Chai's death, I still struggle with the finality of it. On Thursday (one month after his death), I could barely get out of bed filled with such grief. But I did and went with Trevor to do something that now and forever will be a new normal. We went and shopped for flowers to put on Chai's grave. It was a very sad reality. We walked around trying to find a flower that was youthful, but not girly. I finally settled on white gerber daisies. However, we only found two. I was crushed and so we settled on white daisies. I got home began to arrange them and get them ready to take to Chai, but as I sat in this new normal was so saddened, because these flowers are NOT the ones i wanted for him. I told Trevor that Chai deserves the best flower, the one that no matter where we are when we see a Gerber Daisy, it will forever remind us of him. It will be special, like him. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have felt this week overwhelmed with this aspect of his death, hence my writing in hopes of relieving some of the hurt. But sitting in church today I was reminded as we took the Lord's supper of something very sweet. The following was handed to me by my loving husband as we partook.</div><div><br /></div><div>'<i>As I take the Lord's supper I think of each element in two ways, 1. Remembering, 2. Waiting.</i></div><div><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div><b><i>Bread:</i></b></div><div><b><i>Remember</i></b></div><div><i>Broken body on the cross, Jesus taking my place.</i></div><div><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div><b><i>Wait</i></b></div><div><i>Bread can only be made by man, This reminds me that I can now image God like I am created to do and will one day do that perfectly.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><b><i>Wine:</i></b></div><div><b><i>Remember</i></b></div><div><i>The Blood of Jesus shed for my sin</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><b><i>Wait</i></b></div><div><i>Wine is celebratory. Jesus said before he died we would drink it w/him at the the marriage supper of the Lamb when he returns, in his Kingdom. (Matthew 26:27-29; Rev. 20:9)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>This reminds me that we will share a meal with Jesus for eternity with Chai sitting right there with us.'</i></div><div><br /></div><div>Praise Jesus!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Keep praying for Keva, for me, for our sons. The pain of the broken creation is still very real to us...and I hope that we always feel it. For it is that pain that pushes us to cry out to God for the New Creation. Therein lies our hope. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.</div><div><br /></div><div>Trevor</div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16381159787589093947noreply@blogger.com8