Mediocrity

A couple of things I read today are sticking in my mind.

First, a question: What if God called you to be mediocre? (YIKES!...hold on, don't freak out yet.)

Second, a scripture: Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Colossians 4.5

I'm in a season of life that feels a little bit in between. I'm an adult, but I don't have my own family. I have a job, but it's not what I want to do forever. I live in a house, but I don't own one. I like my city, but I don't think I want to live here forever. There are some pretty big things I want to do with my life, but I'm not doing them yet. That's okay with me, it's just where I am.

But I find myself hesitant to let my roots grow into this place of life, literally and figuratively, because I don't want it to be permanent. I want to do great, big things and I want to travel widely and I want my name on the cover of books. And so, in my wanting of these things, living as a single girl here in this small-ish city, working at this job where few products of my time bear my name, and basically existing in a small sphere of influence, I sometimes feel like my life is mediocre. My daily routine does not effect the world, and maybe that should be disappointing.

So then, the question above, is slaying, eh? What if God is calling you to be mediocre? What if God is giving me this life and this little area of space & time and saying here you are, Hope. This is what I have for you to do. Use your gifts, I'll provide.

My favorite part about my house in this city is the space it provides to build relationships-- with my roommates, with my mission group, my church, my neighbors, the friends I have made at random and the ones I have known for my lifetime. And so the line from Colossians is especially perfect. I have the space in my life now to walk towards outsiders and make them feel like insiders. As a single woman, I have time. I have evenings and weekends and energy that can be put towards a "mediocre" life-- appetizers and football, wine and a sprawling back porch, card games and raucous laughter.

I do not think anyone famous will care to come to my little house for the pure pleasure of the company of my friends who have chosen to live in this city, I do not think I will receive recognition from editors or publishing houses because I host a party for no reason at all, and I do not think that matters a bit.

The best use of my time is to live intentionally. To open up spaces and hearts for relationships that are true and deep. It might feel small sometimes, but to the person who would be sitting alone in her apartment otherwise, it will feel very, very large.

And that matters.

Confabulation

It was requested that I work the word "confabulatory" into my next blog post, so here I am. One definition of the word is "to talk casually; chat." And that's what I'm going to do today. Here are some things that keep running around in my head day after day....

Yesterday, I went to the bookstore during my lunch break. There was a little boy walking out the door with his dad just in front of me, and the boy was asking his dad if both doors worked. His dad said yes of course they both work, but you only need to use one. So I used the other one and said, see, this one does work!

And I found myself again wishing deeply that I were in a bookstore with my own three year old, rather than escaping my desk for an hour between business, alone. Lately, there's been a trend among my friends that ex-boyfriends are getting engaged and married, and while we, the exes, are sure that these men are not good for us, it's often difficult to navigate the waves of jealousy towards these men that wash quickly over us, the single girls. Not because we want those men in particular, but because, what's wrong with us?

One friend articulated the frustrated questions clearly: "I just wonder sometimes. I feel like I am finally trying to gear my life toward God and get my shit together. I'm struggling and working hard to correct myself. Did he correct himself? Is it possible that he found love in the last 2 years, real love and I can't get a date!! What is that about??" (See, other people say "God" reverently and cuss in the same sentence!)

Last weekend, one of my roommates and I were watching The Notebook because we like to torture ourselves. (Sidenote: do you ever wonder how Nicholas Sparks' wife feels about all this love story writing? Does he romance her as much as his characters do? I should hope so.) When the movie was over, she asked me: "Do you think it's possible for two people to really have love like that?"

I have moments where I am so desperate for my happily ever after and other moments where I feel totally unprepared to know how to love a man. Those moments tell me I'm not ready yet, that there's more for me to learn to be capable of being fully myself and also capable of letting go of control, in the knowledge that I'll never be able to love someone in a way that will complete him. He has to find his completion in Christ, just like I do. But that also means I have to know that I will never be anyone's end-all be-all. And if I am, I will fail him, time and again.

This terrifies me. Because as cliche as that movie is, I have loved like that and I have lost it because I did not understand that I was completely selfish. I did not understand that a man will never complete me. I loved like that, not only for the sake of loving another, but because I wanted to be loved that way. I played games and I demanded and I held expectations from books and movies and unrealities.

It's disappointing really, to see what I once held and to understand how I so handily misused him. But, that understanding makes my heart change. It makes me see that loving a person is just that-- it is choosing another's happiness over your own. It is submission. It is support. It is encouragement. It is shutting the hell up sometimes. It is saying things outloud instead of holding them inside to fester. It's accepting your own humanity. It is being wrong and saying so. It is forgiveness.

My favorite depiction of marriage is a walk. Marriage is choosing to walk with one person forever, to walk life, with vallies and mountains and joys and sorrows, with the realization that the other person is only a person. I will marry a man and he will still just be a man. He will not have any hope of saving me or I of saving him. But we'll be walking together, and I suppose that having that person to be my person, my hand to hold is the point.

I imagine that walking with another human being will make my brokenness ever more obvious with each passing day. I've heard it said that marriage isn't meant to make us happier, it's meant to make us holier. Maybe that's what is so hard-- the fact that our beliefs about marriage and partnership in life are not defined the way the culture swirling around us would define them. We swim in an ocean of "if it feels good, do it" and don't stop to consider that actual heart change rarely feels good.

When I say that I like change, I don't mean it externally, and I don't think I mean the process. This is painful, this part right here. It's the result that I like. I've spent so much of my life making choices that are difficult because I believe them to be right. I'm sure I will continue to do this, but damn it. Why do I so want an immediate payoff and why isn't there one?

Another definition for confabulation is "the replacement of a gap in a person's memory by a falsification that he or she believes to be true." Isn't it interesting that we believe "happily ever after" to be true when that's not really how it works at all?

I feel like I just mentally threw up onto this page.

*With thanks to S & T for quotes & opinions.

Validation

You should absolutely take 16 minutes and 23 seconds to watch this short film.

Wednesday Letters: Dear Sandi Patty; a book review of Hear No Evil by Matthew Paul Turner

Dear Sandi Patty,

I think you are awesome. And I have, ever since I was about 5 years old and knew every single word to every single Friendship Company song. And then when I was 12, and almost too cool in my Southern Baptist school to admit to liking Christian music, my Presbyterian parents took me to your Christmas concert, and your voice! Ohhh Sandi, it was AMAZING. I forgot about being cool for 2.5 hours.

I'm not sure if you've heard, but Matthew Paul Turner thinks you're awesome too. He even said that the first time he heard you sing made him "feel tingly all over." Unfortunately for Matthew, his psycho Baptist church upbringing did not include Presbyterian parents who enjoyed your music like he did. It's a really good story, Sandi. I think you would enjoy reading it. After all, you put a song in little Matthew's heart that led him on a musical journey of faith.

Lucky for us, that story's been published in Matthew's new book, Hear No Evil, and it just released on Tuesday.

I'll be honest, at first I wasn't sure if I was going to like the book. Matthew's story is a little bit like my own, so I wasn't surprised by all the Baptist crazy that unfamiliar individuals find so shocking. But then he hooked me. He hooked me with his sarcasm and honesty. And he hooked me by obviously not agreeing with the way he was raised without actually bashing the people who so misled him. Oh sure, he didn't like it, he doesn't agree with it, and he and his wife are certainly not raising their own son (precious!) that way, but he doesn't take that as a free pass to talk trash.

I like that. Because Sandi, to tell you the truth? When you've been so misled, it's really hard not to be bitter towards the people who just thought they were guiding you in the truth.

I finished Matthew's book and felt like I'd just made a new friend. Hear No Evil feels like looking through an old photo book and hearing the stories behind the images of plastered-on grins. After you've covered a handful of history, you understand the story teller better, and you understand yourself a little better too.

And this story just happens to have a great soundtrack, and you're track numero uno, Sandi.

*This book was provided for review by WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group.

What are Wednesday Letters? My friend Tara recently lost her baby, Scout, before she was born. (You can read Tara & Trey's story here, here and here.) Tara has been writing a lot as a part of her own healing process and we have become regular pen pals-- with real letters, in real handwriting, with real stamps-- remember those? I have loved sharing letters with my friend, so I decided to bring the letter form to my blog on Wednesdays. And Wednesday also happens to be the name of Tara & Trey's dog, and that's just cute.

Nothing whatsoever

I'm having a day. You know, one of those days? I wrote to a friend not even three days ago that I was pleasantly surprised how happy I have been these past months. And today, the shit came down. Well, yesterday, today and a few randomly interspersed days before that. I need a vacation.

Because honestly?

I'm disappointed in people today. I'm bummed out and I feel badly about myself because I'm not being validated by the people I want to validate me.

And I can't snap out of it. That's the worst part. I know that the validation I require should not be coming from my work, or my friends, my family, or any source but Christ. But I live in this space of mind that craves more than the knowledge of grace. Why? I don't fully understand grace.

I was reminded today that Jesus is not impressed by me, and I'm really relieved by that because what am I capable of that might impress the Savior of the world?

HELLO! Not a lot. Actually, nothing whatsoever, as it happens.

Part 3: Resources for giref when you lose your baby

This is quite possibly my longest and most useful post, EVER. Except I can't take credit for this post.

Tara, the very unusual woman who I wrote about in Part 1 and Part 2 earlier this week, compiled this list and the notes that follow. I have only done minimal editing to take it from friend-to-friend email format to blog format. Every resource listed here comes solely from what Tara has found helpful in her journey of grief and restoration thus far.

In case you haven't read the story from Part 1, here's what happened: Tara & her husband Trey were surprised to discover they were pregnant, just as she was finishing up grad school and they were moving back to their hometown, especially since Tara was on birth control at the time. Tara was basically sick for the next twenty weeks. She had severe hyperemesis, losing up to 17 pounds, tossing her cookies at every turn, and struggling to find some semblence of the life she had known before-- the life of a dancer, a student, a devoted friend. Right at 20 weeks, lots of little details began to go wrong until it was confirmed that Scout was no longer alive. Tara delivered Scout on December 15, 2009 and is now on a journey no one ever expected.

As you can read in the previous posts, Tara has forged ahead with great courage, but also tears and many moments of deep fear. She is pursuing a new life for herself and her husband because they are forever changed by this experience. I can literally feel my heart swell with pride for her when I consider how vulnerable she is allowing herself to be by letting me share all of this.

Enough from me. Here's Tara Beth's list of resources, in her own words. Share them with the people who need them. Maybe you need them.

_________________________________________________

Journaling :: a suggestion in many grief resources, I was a journaler before all of this so it was only natural to continue. Writing gets some of those broken record thoughts out of your head, and some of the untruths that you tell yourself too. Looking back at old entries can be very revealing- you can see that maybe you were being very irrational one day, or how far you have come.

Honoring our child in many ways:: Collecting mementos, I'm making a scrapbook to include ultrasound photos & the few pics we have of me pregnant, we made our own thank you notes to send out that have ties to our baby, we put up butterflies on the wall in our room for symbolism & we're planting a butterfly garden in the fall that will have my stepping stone (with Scout's name and delivery date) in it, I bought a piece of jewelry with my child's name on it, we have 'unofficial' birth certificates that the hospital made for us, we framed the hand and foot prints, name your child, take photos (the hospital did this for us- thank goodness), my mom is making Christmas ornaments based on the characters on the thank you notes, etc. Do whatever you need to do to validate your child's existence!

Be easier on yourself! We are taught to forgive others, why do we have such a hard time forgiving ourselves?! It's the mommy guilt- which happens when you have perfectly healthy children too. You are human and flawed and you will have thoughts about yourself that are untrue and even if they are- look at your circumstances and say, 'I did the best i could at THAT moment in time'. I have to repeat this over and over like a mantra. I often think I could have 'done more' or 'eaten more' during my pregnancy and then I remember what a joke that is. I could hardly eat anything at all- it was really THAT bad. Even on a 'good day', like when I was able to be at Hope's parents' house for our friend's engagement party, I spent the whole night back and forth to the bathroom feeling like I was going to vomit everywhere and had a horrible migraine. So even though I wasn't in the hospital and I ate dinner and was a part of society for part of the night- there were other things that were continuing to happen in my body that I couldn't control.

Talking with other women/couples/families who have been through the same experience:: No matter what, unless someone else has been there, they just will not be able to understand the depth and complexity of the pain you are feeling; it doesn't mean that you don't want the support of those who haven't been there (this is crucial), but sometimes it is very validating to speak with others living the experience. I also consider these conversations a nice 'normalcy' check in, they can let me know what other REAL people are feeling and doing. It helps to know that I am not insane or beyond help or moving on too fast.

KinderMourn:: One lady who reached out to me said that she and her husband attended a KinderMourn group to talk with other families. These groups are for people who have lost children of all ages, so my friend said that some women don't like these groups b/c they are not specifically focused on the loss of a baby, but others love connecting with any family who has experienced a loss. (Trey & I haven't decided about this kind of thing yet...we talk a lot with each other and we are getting some advice from our pastor, so we'll see.)

Share Pregnancy & Infant Loss, Inc.:: I now receive their newsletter. Again, the national website gives you contact information for local chapters and we don't have one in our town, so it would involved travel. But, their info is much more specific to the loss of a baby. There is also a national conference for people to share stories, prevent perinatal loss, spread awareness, etc.

This article from The American Journal of Occupational Therapy :: written by Mary Forhan, an OT that had a stillborn baby. Takes a look at the way this impacts your habits, roles, routines, and other family members. [Aside from Hope: Tara had just finished OT school when she found out she was pregnant with Scout.]

String of Pearls:: They have helped me plan the memorial service and sent me two EXCELLENT books: A Grace Disguised by Jerry Sittser. This book is great for anyone who has experienced ANY kind of loss. And The One Year Book of Hope by Nancy Guthrie. This is a year-long devotional by a woman who carried two babies with terminal diagnoses. She acknowledges your feelings and gives you specific places in the Bible relevant to your loss. I also LOVE reading the blogs of other women linked on the website. They make me cry every time, but they validate my feelings and give me hope that I can have other children! *I also referred my friend Marie, who is going through a similar situation, to String of Pearls and I think they are helping her a lot.


Molly Piper's blog :: GREAT stuff. [Molly is John Piper's daughter-in-law and had a stillborn child, Felicity. She offers great insight into how those on the outside can be supportive of our grieving friends.] Don't just read the 'grief' blogs, but the 'Felicity' blogs too. She doesn't dance around the 'right' words or hide her feelings. I was so struck by some things she wrote. She even hid her pregnancy after Felicity's passing because of FEAR. Bingo! She wrote that even after having a healthy baby boy after Felicity, she still didn't feel resolved to the situation. She still felt that her womb was a 'place of death' and that God was going to keep using her suffering to 'make an example out of her', etc. I have had those very same feelings. Maybe I can't have children just so God can use my misery in some way? Lots of thoughts like that creep in and take over sometimes.

New Living Translation Study Bible:: Written in plain English, with lots of info down at the bottom of the pages to put a context around the verses and what they really mean. We shouldn't twist the Word into something it isn't, so this is helpful. (I'm sure many other versions are great too! I just wasn't getting what I NEEDED from our Couples Bible.)

My 'Book bundle' from Amazon.com:: These I think would be great for moms, dads, grandparents, or anyone close to someone experience a loss. They can give you real insight into the hurdles that these families face in both dealing with the loss and trying for more children. The first book I read was Empty Cradle, Broken Heart by Deborah Davis. This book has been praised time and again as an excellent resource. I am almost finished reading Trying Again by Ann Douglas. This one was written specifically for parents who lost their first baby! This was great for me because even the local women who have been in touch with me all had at least one other child at home when they lost their babies. Not that already having a child makes this so much more bearable, but you have proof that your body CAN do this, you have somewhere to channel your parenting and love, and you have tangible reassurance that this doesn't happen with EVERY pregnancy. This book also doesn't leave anything out- it prepares you with a ton of info for trying again, including access to the 'extras' you might want during a subsequent pregnancy and it also brings up the issue that your next pregnancy might result in a loss and how to handle (or if you're prepared) to handle that. My next book to read is Pregnancy After a Loss by Carol Lanham. These books made me feel like it was okay to be angry at the myriad of pregnancy books on the market that don't even mention or address loss. I have one book that has NOTHING about stillbirth, perinatal loss, SIDS, and only 2 pages on miscarriage.

Hyperemesis.org :: I know this wasn't the loss of my baby, but it was the loss of my life as I knew it and the loss of an enjoyable pregnancy- Hyperemesis Gravidarum. This is my very favorite website.

Talking/emailing my pastor:: Just in planning the memorial service, he has counseled us. I've also emailed him questions or asked him for specific references in the Bible or books written by others dealing with questions I have. One thing I am especially interested in right now is prayer b/c I just don't understand it that well.

Talking about it with friends:: Even if it makes people uncomfortable- email them or bring up the issue. You should not have to act like nothing has happened and if other people are uncomfortable- oh well! [Tara has dubbed herself the "unending fountain of words," but as someone on the outside who WANTS to help so badly but has no clue about what her friend needs, I deeply appreciate Tara's approach in addressing it openly.]

Hope through Heartsongs by Mattie J.T. Stepanek:: I will be reading from this at Scout's memorial service, but anything in his series of Heartsongs books is great! Mattie writes about EVERYTHING- nature, joy, celebration, peace, war, tragedy, hope, fear, etc. You name it- and he only lived to be 13 years old and covered SO many topics. I am especially attached to him and his story for two reasons: 1) Believe it or not, he wrote a trilogy of poems about a baby that died. I discovered this on the way home from a Christmas gathering and just sobbed. I was so moved by his words. I will be reading 'Examination of Faith II' at the service. I instantly felt connected to him since he was so desperately trying to understand what this family friend was going through and how he was going to deal with the death of a baby. 2) His mom, Jennifer, is a BRAVE lady. She has been there and done that, and bought the t-shirt. She has given birth to and buried four children. All four of her children were born with a version of mitochondrial myopathy that could not be detected until after birth. It is very deteriorating and they discovered that she has the adult version of the condition. Your muscles and joints just literally stop working. Mattie lived the longest, and remembered and writes a lot about missing his older brother that passed away. Can you imagine losing 4 of your sweet babies? What I love about their family is that they recognize that EVERY child, no matter age or condition, has a PURPOSE. Mattie hoped to be a peacemaker and a poet, and accomplished those things by age 13. He also wrote often of his siblings, validating their lives and their importance here. Some of the poems are sweet and silly and some of his poems will break your heart. But he does his job as a writer- he makes you FEEL something with the words on the page before you. So, this is not specifically a pregnancy-loss related resource, but something very touching.

Bless- there are probably 100 other suggestions that I have, but many of them came from these resources.

Love,

TB

WINDSday Letters: Dear Scout

Dear Scout,

It's incredibly windy in the South today. One of those windy days that makes you think of Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day, where Pooh says: "Happy Windsday, Piglet!"

So, Happy Windsday, Scout! You would be almost 28 weeks now, and you'd probably already have some A.A. Milne on your shelf, simply waiting to be discovered. I would have bought you books galore, little one. Mountains of books!

The last time I wrote to you, you were very small and new inside your mommy, and I was sitting on a bench by the Brazos River on a ranch in Texas. I prayed for you that day because your mommy was really rather sick already and you are the first baby in our group of friends. Do you know that in addition to your two actual aunts, you have eight other aunties (and then some) who love you very much? We were all wildly excited for your conception and anxiously anticipated meeting you.

The day of your delivery, I drove through back country roads to be with your parents and saw land that is wastefully beautiful. It is not fair, I thought, that all this beauty exists and you will never experience it.

That day was hard for everyone, but no one more than your mom and dad. I know your mommy writes to you a lot. I know she tells you how she's feeling about all of this. Every day presents some new challenge, some new track in her mind, I think, that washes the experience over her again. Your mom had hyperemesis during her pregnancy with you and she wrote to me today that it was not just the loss of you, her child, but also the loss of her life as she knew it, and the loss of an enjoyable pregnancy. Your mommy has felt loss in a way that is unique and deeply painful.

But here's what I want you to know, Scout...

Your mommy is creating a new version of her life, a beautiful one.

Your mommy is brave and fierce.

Your mommy is tender and soft.

Your mommy is opening herself up to change.

She is learning how to make pottery.

She is learning new sports.

She is writing.

Your mommy is helping other people who know her pain.

She is generous with her time, her prayers, and her thoughts.

She is pursuing the health of her body, of her heart, with tenacity.

Your mommy is bold and open.

She wants to share your story, not only to validate your existence, but to bring hope.

I think that is my favorite thing to see building in her, growing, gaining strength--

your mommy's hope.

It's starting out slowly. She has more hope for other women in her situation than for herself, I think. Fear is her biggest foe, but it will not best her. But isn't that somehow true of us all? Don't we fear the unknown of what lies ahead more than almost anything? I certainly do.

What must it be like for you, Scout, to be in the presence of our God, to be in a place where worry and pain are no more? All of us down here wonder.

I just wanted to tell you that I can't wait to meet you. I want you to know that your mommy and daddy are learning new things every single day because you lived inside her belly. I want you to know that you are deeply loved.

But you do know that, don't you? You live with Jesus. You know love even more than the rest of us can imagine. That's a happy place, Scout.

XOXO,

Auntie Hope


P.S. Tomorrow Tara is going to share her favorite resources for living and growing through these moments of grief, practically.

Unusually intelligent, unusually confident, unusually thoughtful & unusually good.

In December, one of my dearest friends and her husband lost their first baby, 20 weeks into a pregnancy that was wrought with sickness and all manner of things gone awry.

I don't know how to follow that sentence. It's heartbreaking. Because not only did Tara lose the baby, but she had to deliver him or her. And that part hurts too, because the precious little baby was so ravaged by the process of delivery and illness that they could not tell if its body was that of a girl or boy. Tara & Trey could not hold their first child. They could not take photos with their baby. Everything went downhill so quickly, they had not anticipated making arrangements for giving birth and leaving their child's tiny body at the hospital.

They named their child Scout. For many reasons, but yes, it's after the character from To Kill a Mockingbird. Tara spent those twenty weeks praying for this beating heart inside her belly and found this character description to describe what she hoped for her own child:

Scout is a very unusual little girl, both in her own qualities and in her social position. She is unusually intelligent (she learns to read before beginning school), unusually confident (she fights boys without fear), unusually thoughtful (she worries about the essential goodness and evil of mankind), and unusually good (she always acts with the best intentions).

What I love most about this is that it so beautifully characterizes Tara. She is the friend you hope to have. Her husband Trey is the kind of man you want for all of your friends, and for yourself. Hailing from the same small town, they are high school sweethearts. The two married a couple of weeks after we all graduated from college and we all cried when the doors opened and she walked down the aisle in white, the first of our closest girlfriends to marry.

Tara is unusually intelligent. She studies more than anyone I've ever met (including my two roommates in med school). She had just finished Occupational Therapy school and was preparing for her board exam, when she and Trey moved back to their hometown and found out she was expecting. But besides school, Tara possesses a wisdom that is gentle and kind. There is no Southern accent quite so wonderfully lyrical as hers, and the words that flow so sweetly from her tongue are useful, helpful, wise.

Tara is unusually confident. In the midst of chaos, confusion, wandering thoughts and hours of staring into space (I imagine), she braves this unknown life of a mother without a living child with confidence and gumption. I've mentioned before that we are pen pals, but I know she is writing for herself, to our God, to her child, to her restless confusion. I have never witnessed a person pursuing the healing of her own heart more. She is taking pottery classes with other women who have lost children. Today she learned to ski-- broken as her physical body has been, Tara Beth learned to ski.

Tara is unusually thoughtful. My dear, dear tender-hearted friend, in the midst of her own sorrow and loss, in the midst of her crazy Wizard of Oz dreams wrote to me: "My thoughts, my emotions, my circumstances just kind of beat me up everyday. And then I thought-- is Hope getting walloped by the apples too-- or is she still stuck back in the twister?" (This is a Wizard of Oz reference, which I feel the need to point out since I have never actually seen the whole movie.) So precious is her heart! In the midst of heartache I cannot imagine, this woman worried for me and the less significant issues of my own heart. But that's just the lesson we can learn from Tara-- no person's heartache is any less significant. If it matters to you, it matters. That is love. She is a woman whose thoughtfulness could be storied for page after page; it has made a difference in my life.

Tara is unusually good. There is no way to accurately portray this aspect of Miss Tara Beth. Here are some examples, however: When we were in the hospital preparing to take her home the day after Scout's delivery, she started to cry and said she was so sad that this had to be the collective memory for our group of friends-- that the first one to be pregnant lost her baby in such a terrible way. She didn't want us all to fear having children because of her experience. How does one possess such selflessness? She is unusually good, you see. Another example: I texted Tara today to ask her permission to write about her experience on my blog, to write about Scout. I told her I could change their names and she could read it before I post. Her reponse? "Girl you can write & use names, we want to help people!"

So this is part one. Tomorrow I will write a Wednesday Letter along these lines and later I will provide some resources, practical help for couples who have felt this loss as Tara & Trey have, and for friends who don't get it (like me), but love them so desperately and want so deeply to help. I asked Tara for her input for resources, so you'll know they're actually helpful.

I'm telling you about Scout because Tara & Trey are not the only ones. If there's anything we have all learned in this situation it is that many, many couples experience this kind of loss. It is unfathomable to me that such numbers could feel such heartache, and I want you all to know. I want you to know that you can help. You can pray. You can provide service to these families. You can be supportive, even if you don't completely understand. Don't sit back and be silent. Don't be afraid to speak to them or afraid to talk about their child.

Scout lived. Scout lived inside Tara's body for twenty weeks and that is reason to celebrate, to commemorate. On Saturday, we will gather to celebrate Scout's life, held safely inside Tara's womb for so brief a time.

Will you join us in prayers of gratitude?

Wednesday Letters: Dear February 3rd

Dear February 3rd,

I started a totally different Wednesday Letter to Taylor Swift and it did not go the way I planned. Besides the fact that it wasn't really good writing, it really had nothing to do with Taylor Swift and everything to do with the way I am thinking about love these days.

Somewhere between moving to Colorado and coming back to the South and creating a totally different life than the one I had been imagining for the past seven years, I grew up. And I've realized something about this growing up-- it changes the way you want love to play out in your life. For years, I thought I would be married and having kids by now. But I'm not. (Still want that though; let's be real here.)

But love is showing up in my life. Love is playing out in relationships I never expected, none of which have anything to do with dating. Friendship and family are the name of my game lately and there is such depth to be found there.

It snowed on Friday, it snowed A LOT, and it doesn't do that here much. I feel like my words are very uninspired today, so let me show you what I did this weekend, in pictures (taken with a cell phone, so don't hate on the quality).

I went to the store to check out the milk & bread situation, like any good Southern girl. I bought neither.

I baked & created a huge mess, but also satisfied some bellies.

I called the best gentlemen I know to jump my roommate's car...


...and shovel mine out. Manly they are!

I co-built a fort for snowball fight domination.

We tore that field UP. This was a snowball fight break.

Miss MP built a little fort/alien.

This man is a snowball throwing KING. It's because he's 50% Asian.

Or something.

These are grown-ass men. :)

FUN, I tell you!