The Amalekites came and attacked the Israelites at Rephidim. Moses said to Joshua, “Choose some of our men and go out to fight the Amalekites. Tomorrow I will stand on top of the hill with the staff of God in my hands.” 
So Joshua fought the Amalekites as Moses had ordered, and Moses, Aaron and Hur went to the top of the hill. As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up—one on one side, one on the other—so that his hands remained steady till sunset. So Joshua overcame the Amalekites army with the sword.              
Moses built an altar and called it The Lord is my Banner. He said, “For hands were lifted up to the throne of the Lord.”     Exodus 17:8-16


Tragedies come, battles arise, and who holds your hands up? For how long? Do you win the battle? Do you build an altar to God in remembrance?

I remember my hands being held high. When my muscles fatigued, circles of people surrounded me in prayer, brought me meals, sent me cards, took care of the lawn, etc.  Eventually, the battle seemed to be won.  My hands received rest, my stomach full, sleep had come. Those who held up my hands moved on.  
This battle is won, and a new battle somewhere else begins, drawing them away.  I am left alone.  But wait, my enemies have only been wounded. They rise up with weapons in hand and press in on me… now it is just me.  

How does your church body hold up each other’s hands? Is this sustained? What about your family?  What are ways you have held up someone else’s hands? Is there a time when you needed your hands held and people came through? Or didn’t come thru? In what ways can we do better to give each other strength without leaving wounded enemies instead of defeating enemies?

Happy 10th months Maggie.  You are missed.

A sweet text from my husband today pictured the most beautiful bouquet of flowers.  Not for me though, for our dead daughter.  I sit back tonight and wonder how many men stood in lines today buying flowers, teddy bears, chocolates not meant for their lovers, but their dead daughters instead.  Maybe a few.  I pray only a few.  
Tonight is one of those nights where death just doesn’t seem fair.  As we cried together it is so plain to see that every happy day and good day is also the worst and saddest day.  Not just today, but for the rest of our lives.  Forever.  Ugh! Maggie is not here.  Do you understand this???  It’s aweful!!  Maddening! Why? 
No one understands this.  That’s how it seems.  My heart pounds as I write this.  Pain and hurt…there are no words for this…

Happy Valentine’s Day Maggie.  You’re beautiful.

I hadn’t really thought too much about the day coming up.  It really crept up on me until Sunday at work I said the words out loud that “our 20 week ultrasound is tomorrow”.  And then the butterflies showed up! Monday came and we stepped into the dark room with our baby’s physical future about to be laid bare.  
I think about most women who experience this same moment where the gender is revealed and they get to celebrate.  Then the sonographer goes over each body organ with perfect news.  We had a different experience.  Her ankles and wrists come off of her body straight!  Yay!  Is there a three-vessel cord or two?  Three.  Yay! Her brain has the normal amount of fluid with the cerebellum also looking good.  Yay!  Is her neck the normal thickness? Yes. Yay! Her bones are the normal length.  Yay!  On and on this went.   Each question we had was answered with good news!  Praise God.
Although the pregnancy with Maggie was long and difficult, we were fortunate enough to see her every couple of weeks on the screen, wiggling inside and practicing her breathing.  Monday we observed hiccoughs and lots and lots of movement.  But, she is camera shy!  No good pictures were to be had so we will wait another 20 weeks to see her little face!
I cannot tell you how good it felt to have my doctor come into our exam room actually jumping up and down on the floor with excitement for us! She jumped until we hugged.  All smiles in the room!  She announced that from hear on out we are a “normal” pregnancy!  No red flags, no risk for preterm labor.  Normal. 
Normal?  I prayed for normal.
When we got home I started on a DIY project for this girls nursery.  Yeah, I changed it up.  I had thought that after Maggie died, it wouldn’t be a big deal to keep her room the same for the next child.  At first it was painful, covering her up.  I mean covering the walls up.  With the first stroke of paint I felt a tiny piece of panic go through me.  Then it was just a project.  Now that it’s done, I feel like this girl has a shot at being separate from Maggie.  They blend together somehow most days.  So I started my rug painting Monday listening to my Maggie music.  I cried. I miss her. I wanted her to be next to me making talking sounds and keeping me company in a bouncing seat like she might have been.
But I am so excited to meet this new mystery girl!

I have another story to tell that will require prayers from you all for the next several months.  I need you guys.  As I have been working to redo “Maggie’s room”, I posted her bedding set on Craigslist.  A grandmother-to-be contacted me from Louisiana wanting just one piece of it.  She sent me money, I sent her some wall art, and added an extra blanket to the box.  I was told that the little blanket I included was the last missing piece to make the whole set complete.  This lady’s daughter was put in the hospital at 24 weeks pregnant hoping to last as long as possible without delivery and received the blanket during the stay.  Grandmother and mother have read Maggie’s story and of all dates, this baby shares the same due date as Maggie did, May 21st.  I learned this morning that Baby was born Sunday, just shy of 25 weeks.  Baby is alive and just a pound.  This family has a long road ahead and I am begging all readers to pray for this baby and family as you do for mine. 

Do you readers have questions for me that you haven’t asked me?  What do you want to know about grieving, healing, burying a baby, being pregnant again, how to help a friend going through similar circumstances?  I want to know your questions.  I want to help you help others.