Lola Magazine has had the honor of bringing you the stories of countless inspirational women and families over the past six years. Here are just a few updates on some of our most heartfelt stories and inspiring women.
When I first wrote for Lola, it was 2019. We were a little over a year out from one of the greatest pains you can experience. 2019 seems like a lifetime ago…and I guess it should because, in many ways, it is. If lifetimes are measured in experience, growth, pain, endurance and perseverance, then yes, 2019 was a lifetime ago; although, 2017 still feels like yesterday.
In November 2017, my precious girl, my Katie Bug, was killed. The journey that began the afternoon we came home from the hospital without our daughter has been one I wouldn’t wish on anyone…and also, I can’t imagine my life any other way. I don’t know what our home would look like now had Katie survived. I can’t age her in my head or my heart. For me, she will always be 4.5 years old, always spell phonetically and always laugh a big ol’ belly laugh at her Daddy and Gavin’s antics and fun.
Gavin isn’t two anymore…like he was when Katie lived in our home. He’s 6-years-old now. He reads, writes, does math, builds the coolest Lego creations and has a tender loving heart. There are two more boys in this home that she won’t know this side of heaven. Ethan, 3, is the firecracker…the spiciest of the bunch…oh how she would love the energy and life (and noise) he brings this house. Our Ethan, born less than a year after Katie died, scared me. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to love him. But I have loved him all along. Logan, 1, is the squishiest most easy-going of our “Dude Crew” who loves to snuggle and loves watching the big boys do all the big boy things. I wasn’t afraid of adding Logan to our home. I was excited and grateful. Looking at these boys walking/running around my house and piling couch cushions and pillows on the floor to launch into is such a testimony of grace – undeserved favor. How thankful I am for the grace Katie showed her imperfect parents who adored her. Katie wasn’t perfect, but she loved us in the most perfect way. Katie’s ability to love us this side of heaven stopped on November 19, 2017, but my memories of our life together are no longer dominated by her death and for that, I give all credit to the Holy Spirit’s protective grace….and lots of counseling.
I’ve been in counseling for four years now. I can say that without it, I’m not sure I would have survived. There was a season that even with it, I wasn’t sure I would survive.
Life can be very cruel and unfair. It can also be beautiful. It is beautiful…and messy and cruel and hard and not hard. One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned on this journey is that I don’t have to limit myself. I can live in all the feelings and all of them can be right. I can love my boys and miss Katie. I can enjoy my friends and keep the conversation light and fluffy. I can call someone in tears and share my heart when I’m overwhelmed by sadness. I can travel the road of both the easy and the difficult knowing the easy won’t always be easy and the difficult won’t last forever. God has paved a way for me and my family.
We continue to give books away each year for Katie’s birthday. This year, our 5th year, we are prepared to give away our 10,000th book! That’s unbelievable and really humbling. We have come to love it and look forward to it every year.
A world without Katie seemed so dark and hopeless. But this world is not without her. Katie has her own God story. As do I…and Kirk, Gavin, Ethan and Logan. I have seen God move in so many ways. I get to talk to people about their love, their loss and their pain. I get to hug hurting people and tell them that they are seen, known and loved by the God of the Universe. I don’t tell them it’s going to be okay. The tough reality is that your circumstances can kill you…if not physically, then emotionally, relationally or spiritually. For some, it won’t be okay. But I hold onto hope because I know that darkness and I know what it feels like to be lifted out of it.
The journey that began when we left the hospital without Katie has been unbelievable in many ways. Kirk and I are married and we love each other. I love each of my boys as the unique God-given gifts they are. They haven’t replaced Katie and they don’t need to because she holds her own unique place in our family. I’ve struggled with or lost relationships that were really important to me and I’ve gained some new ones that provide a level of friendship I didn’t know possible. We have traveled this road with people at our sides. But, people can be hard…
How can you truly love people after your baby dies at the hands of other people? How can you maintain, grow or create relationships after something like that? I’m still learning the answer to those questions. I’m still walking the path of integrating into a community that has the capability to really hurt you. People are scary. They are also really important. Relationships are important. We aren’t meant to do this alone. Luckily, we are never alone.
We serve a glorious and good God. What a beautiful gift of friendship we have in Jesus. He knew my pain then, and He knows me now. He rejoices and weeps with me. He rejoices when all of us are on the living room floor cheering on baby Logan when he takes his first steps or in our (rare) moments of parenting when Kirk and I are able to share with our boys the same grace and patience given to us by our Heavenly Father. He weeps with me when I weep for Katie or friends who are struggling or memories that hurt. He rejoices with me and weeps with me. Because He is my friend and loves me.
As much as my head and heart struggle to come to terms with what has happened to us, I am learning to accept our experience and embrace it instead of running from it. God has, is, and will always work everything for our good and His glory in the midst of our greatest pain. I carry this hope with me because I know it to be true and that hope sustains me.
Psalm 27:13 – I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.