I began 2023 with a word from the Lord that my Job moment was coming. What a year that was—one marked by profound loss. As I entered 2024, the Lord gave me the word “restore”. Over these last months, I have held this word with a mix of hope and fear. The promise of restoration felt both distant and desperately needed.
Isaac’s middle name is Joel (which means “the Lord is God”). My favorite passage in the book of Joel has always been chapter 2 verse 25: “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten …”. God’s promise of restoration is so beautiful here. This year, I’ve witnessed that promise unfold in extraordinary ways.
In February, we celebrated Zeke’s baptism into the family of God, a beautiful moment of new life and spiritual restoration. God used Isaac’s death to bring eternal life to his oldest brother and to restore him to right relationship with the Lord.
Professionally, I experienced a significant shift, transitioning to a new job after almost a decade. This change brought new challenges and opportunities, renewing my creativity and passion.
We saw the Lord restore our home after sustaining major damage from a windstorm in the spring. We were able to repair the damage and rebuild. God’s provision was evident in every step of the process.
We crossed multiple major milestones this year pertaining to Isaac’s absence. For his birthday celebration, we hosted a lovely fundraiser bash benefiting siblings grieving loss through Ryker’s Rainbow. We far exceeded our initial goal, enabling us to do so much more for sibling grief support. Our prayer is that this will help bring healing and restoration to countless others for years to come.
During that event, we experienced one of the most poignant moments of restoration this year when we met the precious baby who received Isaac’s breast milk after he died. That moment is one I will long cherish. Knowing this sweet child who so desperately needed nourishment to jumpstart life brought a bittersweet sense of purpose to our loss. Meeting this beloved child was such a gift to us.
We have heard stories of people giving their lives to Christ after hearing of God’s faithfulness to us throughout our journey with Isaac. Only God can redeem something so hard in ways that proclaim His glory.
God has been incredibly faithful to His promise of restoration to us. We have experienced his tender healing in profound ways this year. We celebrate that God has brought restoration to us again and again and again.
Looking ahead, we praise God for the chance to welcome and hold a new baby boy in our arms in 2025—a son to whom we have given the name Josiah, which means “the Lord heals” or “the Lord sustains”. Babies can’t replace babies. And this one will not diminish Isaac’s loss. Isaac will always be loved and missed and remembered in our family. But we celebrate – in some ways – a full-circle Job moment—that God has given us another chance. It is a testament to God’s enduring love and grace and a declaration of His continued faithfulness to our family as He has walked with us through the darkest valley.
We look forward with eager anticipation to a new year and a new chapter.
Remember your journey […] that you may know the righteous acts of the Lord. – Micah 6:5b
Several months ago, Clint and I began having conversations about what we wanted the first anniversary of Isaac’s birth and death days to look like. We wanted a meaningful way to honor Isaac’s memory.
Initially we discussed a simple t-shirt fundraiser, using the proceeds to purchase copies of The Moon Is Always Round for every family served by Ryker’s Rainbow with children grieving the death of a sibling. I contacted Twin Rivers Custom Design in Rogersville, AL and we went back and forth on a design. We chose to incorporate Isaac’s footprints into butterfly wings with Psalm 139:14,16 and offer them in a variety of colors, including the Trisomy 13 awareness colors (yellow=joy, pink=love, green=life). Butterflies have become an important symbol to our family associated with Isaac’s memory. They remind us that if we are in Christ, the old has gone, the new has come, and we will be reunited with the ones we love that have gone ahead of us to heaven.
The Moon Is Always Round has been such a special book for our family as we have navigated tough conversations with our young children about death and faith. Author Jonathan Gibson uses vivid imagery of the moon to help children understand the goodness of God amid deep loss, and to offer hope and encouragement to families experiencing the sorrow of pregnancy and infant loss.
In my own “fleece moment” like Gideon, I googled Jonathan Gibson and found an email address for him. I sent him an email out of the blue and introduced myself, shared briefly about Isaac’s story, explained what we wanted to do in memory of his birthday, and inquired as to whether he would be willing to autograph a bulk order (100 copies) of his books for our cause. I had no expectations to hear from him, but laid my request before the Lord and decided that if he responded, it would be confirmation that God would use this for far greater things than we could imagine.
Two days later, I received a response from Jonny. He graciously agreed to sign the books and shared other resources with me that have blessed me immensely in my healing journey. I knew that the Lord was stirring in me something bigger.
Clint and I continued our conversations about the looming anniversary dates and made a conscious choice that we wanted it to be a time of celebration. We talked about having a small party for friends and family to come together and remember him with us. As I shared our half-baked idea with a friend over dinner one evening, she challenged me to dream bigger and helped me cast a vision for Isaac’s Memorial Birthday Bash & Fundraiser. We assembled an incredible group of friends as our steering committee and spent the next two months in full event-planning mode.
When I posted the event on Facebook, we received an immediate outpouring of support. Within one hour of my social media announcement of the event, we received donations and sponsorships (completely unsolicited) that covered almost all of our major expenses—allowing us to give 100% of the proceeds from the event to our designated cause.
Over the next five weeks, we watched in awe as God orchestrated moments behind the scenes that totally blew us away. The generosity and support from friends and strangers alike have been humbling and heartwarming. Clint and I have struggled to find the words to express our gratitude to the multitude of friends and family who have offered their time, talents, financial support, and various other gifts to make this event truly special.
Early in the planning stage, I felt the Lord’s leading to plan for 200 attendees. It seemed like such an outrageous number; nevertheless, it is the estimate I gave to all our vendors leading up to the event. These kinds of things are always an over/under guess. At the conclusion of the event, I was astonished that the final headcount was exactly 200 people. This may seem like a silly thing, but it was a reminder to me that God was in even this detail.
The Memorial Birthday Bash was such a special event. It was a fun-filled day in which we witnessed beloved families being together, enjoying games, face painting, balloon creations, food, crafts, and more. It was a day of immense celebration. We celebrated the gift of Isaac’s life, the impact he’s had on so many others, and the goodness and faithfulness of our God. We enjoyed some really special reunions and connections that only God could orchestrate. We experienced the tangible hands and feet of Jesus through the physical presence of friends and family who traveled near and far to join us.
Thanks to the generosity of many, we were able to far exceed our initial financial goal. This will allow us to do so much more in partnership with Ryker’s Rainbow to provide support to grieving children, helping them see the goodness of God and find the hope of heaven along their unique journeys. We are still praying and dreaming about the possibilities and will share more details soon. Isaac’s death was not the end of our story; rather, it was the beginning of a new chapter God is continuing to write. We are deeply grateful for the ways our community has rallied around us to help create a lasting legacy for Isaac through which others will come to know the Lord. Thank you to every single person who has walked with us in this season—who has offered us your prayers, fed our physical bodies as well as our souls, given of your time and resources, championed our cause, loved our family, shared our story. These simple kindnesses have blessed us in profound ways. From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you.
One year ago today, I received the devastating news that would begin my lifelong grief journey. After years of working almost exclusively from home, my husband had an all-day in-office meeting; and since it was our fourth baby and a routine ultrasound, I went to that appointment alone—sandwiched in between meetings in the middle of my work day. I was 12 weeks pregnant and we had only recently begun sharing our exciting news with family and friends. There were many we had yet to tell.
The ultrasound revealed excess fluid around the baby’s entire body, coupled with a “strawberry-shaped head.” All signs pointed to a fatal fetal diagnosis. A few days later, on my birthday, I received the call from the Maternal Fetal Medicine specialist that the genetic testing results were definitively Trisomy 13.
Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble? – Job 2:10
As the Nurse Practitioner gave me the news in the clinic that fateful day, my response was:
“I’m going to go home and do the only thing I know how to do: pray.”
By the grace of God, I somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other and drive myself home that day. I walked in the door just in time for a customer meeting. I logged into my computer but my mind was a million miles away. Then I picked up my son and his friend from kindergarten and went upstairs and collapsed on my bed. I hadn’t wanted to interrupt Clint’s meeting, but I finally sent him a message letting him know I needed him to come home right away. When he got home, he found me on our bed with my face swollen from sobbing.
“What’s wrong,” he asked in a state of panic after seeing me.
“We need to talk about the baby,” was all I could say.
Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can fully share its joy – Proverbs 14:10
We sat on the edge of our bed processing the news of Isaac’s diagnosis and what it meant. We researched whatever we could find to understand the odds of his survival. Our hope waned. We were beyond devastated. After the kids went to bed that evening, we called family to tell them the news and plead for their prayers.
Come, let us return to the Lord; for he has torn us, that he may heal us; he has struck us down, and he will bind us up. – Hosea 6:1
At 9 o’clock that night, there was a knock on the door from our dear friends Shaw and Barbara. They knew most of our family live out of state and that someone should be there to hug us and give us a literal shoulder to cry on. We sat in our living room, weeping and praying together. I praise God for all the people in our lives who have shown up for us in the last year—who have been the hands and feet of Jesus to us in our suffering.
Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you. – Isaiah 46:4
My prayer that day was this:
“God, I want a miracle for a whole and healthy baby. But I also know that whatever your will for me is, I trust you. Clint and I are heartbroken. Even so, help us declare you are good no matter what. My prayer is for you to be magnified in our lives and through our story. Help me trust you for every step of the journey. Surround us with friends and family who will pray for us, lift us up, carry us when we can’t take another step. Cover us in your peace that surpasses all understanding. You are close to the brokenhearted and you have compassion on those who mourn. Remind us of your presence and your nearness. Thank you for the gift of this baby who is so very loved—by us and by you. You are good and your love endures forever.”
I was already starting to show. Not long after, an unsuspecting stranger stopped me in the grocery store and asked when I was due and if I knew what I was having. I mustered up the strength to answer her:
“I’m due in August,” I said, fighting to steady my quivering lips. “We are having a boy.”
“Congratulations! You must be so excited,” she told me.
When she walked away, I turned the corner, hit my knees, and wept right there near the pharmacy.
Laughter can conceal a heavy heart, but when the laughter ends, the grief remains – Proverbs 14:13
Everything in me fought the urge to tell anyone who asked that the baby I was carrying was going to die. The Lord began to let me see the gifts in those greetings—Isaac’s life was worth celebrating. This pregnancy deserved congratulations as much as any other. It took me some time to settle into those truths. I didn’t know how much time I would have with him, but I was determined not to waste it.
In Suffering Is Never for Nothing, Elisabeth Elliot writes:
The deepest things I have learned in my own life have come from the deepest suffering. And out of the deepest waters and the hottest fires have come the deepest things I know about God.
I know this to be true, too. This past year, I have experienced God as the “fourth man in the fire.” Nothing compares to the nearness of his presence over these last months. His presence has been my prize and my provision. I will always treasure the moments we had with Isaac—throughout my pregnancy and his very brief, very significant life: 43 miraculous hours. Even more, I am grateful for the ways God has revealed himself to me along the journey.
He is the Rock, his works are perfect, and all his ways are just. A faithful God who does no wrong, upright and just is he. – Deuteronomy 32:4
During my pregnancy, friends of ours joined us in praying that many would come to know the Lord through Isaac. I may never know how far-reaching his influence is, but I have already seen this to be true in my own home. Part of Isaac’s legacy is the salvation of his oldest brother—who is learning to fall in love with Jesus in the wake of unimaginable tragedy. His insatiable curiosity about his brother’s new home in heaven has ignited a desire to tell the world (or at least all of his friends in first grade) that he loves Jesus.
The journey has been long, but it is really just beginning. I am still learning all the ways being Isaac’s mother has forever changed me. I will continue to speak Isaac’s name and tell his story—to honor his memory and tell of our great God, who, in His infinite wisdom, chose Isaac for our family and me to be his mother.
Praise the Lord. How good it is to sing praises to our God, how pleasant and fitting to praise him! – Psalm 147:1
My dad was a funeral director most of my formative years. Some of my earliest memories involve visiting my dad at work, chasing my brother and sister through the hallways and parlors of the funeral home when they were not in use, squealing and giggling with delight when we would catch each other. I was too young at the time to appreciate the irony of laughter in the house of mourning. Looking back now I see that even then the Lord was teaching me that heartache and hope are not mutually exclusive—grief and joy can certainly coexist.
I had a unique childhood in that I got a front row seat to some of people’s heaviest, most intensely raw moments. Mealtime conversations around our family table frequently touched on the reality of people’s pain. I was aware from a young age that suffering does not discriminate. I became a student of how people responded to tragedy and learned the important skills of entering emotionally deep and difficult spaces with hurting people around me.
Over the years, I have experienced my own heartbreak up close and personal—from death of loved ones to broken relationships and shattered expectations. Some of these hardships have come from my own selfish choices. Some have been the result of other people’s actions. And others are the byproduct of living in a fallen world.
I don’t know what burdens you may be carrying with you this Christmas season. I do know that the cross of Christ has already proven that He is for you. You are not forgotten. And that Hope, Joy, and certainty are available in abundance to each of us.
This time last year, my husband Clint and I were rejoicing in fulfilled dreams. We were celebrating a positive pregnancy test and scheming creative ways to tell our families the exciting news during the holidays. How fitting to anticipate the arrival of a new baby at Christmastime! We welcomed the challenges of having four children six years old and under.
As we rolled into the new year, we soon discovered we would be embarking on a much different adventure together. In February, a routine 12-week ultrasound revealed some concerning abnormalities that indicated a life-limiting fetal diagnosis of Full Trisomy 13—a rare genetic disorder in which a third copy of the number 13 chromosome is present in every cell of the baby’s body, affecting the development of every organ system—a diagnosis known in the medical community as “incompatible with life”.
From the moment we discovered we were expecting this baby, I had prayed for a whole and healthy child. In my heartbreak and devastation, I wrestled with the paradox of pain and the promise of God’s goodness. For three straight days, I wept and cried out to the Lord. I laid bare before him my most raw and honest cries. I pleaded with him for the life of our baby. I had never felt such deep disappointment. I have never prayed more desperate prayers.
When we discovered we were expecting a boy, we gave him the name Isaac Joel as a declaration of our trust in God. Isaac was the greatest test of his father Abraham’s faith in the Genesis narrative. This name is a constant reminder to us of placing Isaac on the altar to give him back to the Lord. Joel means “the Lord is God.” This journey has brought into clear focus for us that God is sovereign and He does what He wants. We know that nothing touches us that does not pass through His hands first. We do not understand why God chooses to allow these things in our lives, but we know that He is wise and He is good in all things, and He can be trusted.
I have walked with the Lord for a long time. I know He is big enough to handle my questions and my doubts. He welcomes my wrestling. He is patient and gracious with me as I grapple with things I don’t understand. Still, God does not owe me answers to my questions. His ways are not my ways. I knew God was able to change our story, but I also knew that even if He didn’t intervene the way I wanted him to, He would still be worthy of my praise.
Initially we were told I would most likely miscarry by 15 weeks. I prayed that in the Lord’s mercy it would be over quickly. I did not know if my heart could endure the prolonged suffering and angst of a lengthy pregnancy.
In my grief, the Lord began to shift my perspective. He taught me to embrace the journey and to treasure every heartbeat and every kick as a gift from Him. We approached the days and months that followed with greater intentionality. Every milestone beyond 15 weeks felt like borrowed time and a miracle.
Our medical team prepared us that if we carried Isaac to term, we could expect late-term stillbirth; or if he was born alive, we would only have him for a few minutes, maybe hours.
We shifted our focus from getting the nursery ready and preparing space in our home for a new baby to making end-of-life plans. We went to the cemetery and selected burial plots, made funeral arrangements, and met with the palliative care team at the hospital to talk through various decisions we would face at birth.
My husband turned his attention from building bunk beds to building an infant casket. We began accepting the reality of Isaac’s diagnosis, while crying out to the Lord for His mercy. We asked the Lord to open our eyes to the gifts and miracles in this season; that through the heartache, we would see Jesus more clearly and know Him more intimately.
For months, the desperate plea of my heart was that the Lord would allow us to meet our son alive. On August 3rd, God answered that prayer!
Isaac was born with a heartbeat, but he was not breathing. The nursing staff laid his gray, still body on my chest and placed a mask over his nose and mouth and began pumping oxygen into his lungs. After a few minutes, we heard the beautiful, miraculous sounds of Isaac’s cries. His skin began to turn pink instantly as we watched him come alive.
We filled that hospital room with sounds of “Jesus Loves Me.” We wept and prayed, thanking God for the chance to hold our precious son alive. We later learned that several different groups of people in various states, completely unaware of the stage of labor we were in, joined together to pray for Isaac and our family at the exact moments he was entering the world. It was as if in those moments the veil between heaven and earth was stretched so thin, we could almost see through to the other side. This was holy ground.
We were celebrating miracles and answered prayers while living on borrowed time. We made as many memories together as a family as we could fit into those moments. The kids gave Isaac gifts they had selected for him. We sang songs, read books, prayed prayers. We laughed and cried; rejoiced and lamented.
Less than 24 hours later, we were discharged from the hospital. Our prayer was to meet Isaac alive. Now we were taking him home!
Through the night, however, Isaac began to deteriorate quickly. On Saturday morning, August 5th, Isaac drew his last breath and met Jesus face-to-face. An entire lifetime packed into 2 days.
God knows the ache of my suffering. He is no stranger to grief. His plan to rescue the world included the suffering and death of His own son. When Jesus prayed in the Garden, He cried out in agony for His Father to take this cup from Him. Oh, how I long to not have to walk this road—that Isaac didn’t have to have Trisomy 13. It helps me to know Jesus wrestled with God’s plan also. When Jesus died on the cross, the sky went dark in mid-day, the earth quaked, the veil was torn—my heart can’t help but identify these things as expressions of the Father’s own grief.
We had 43 miraculous hours with Isaac. On August 11th, we laid his earthly body to rest. At his graveside service, we released 43 butterflies—one for every hour Isaac lived. For his funeral, we joined with friends and family to worship our good God and served cupcakes to celebrate Isaac’s birthday and answered prayers. This is the tension of holding both deep sorrow and deep gratitude together at the same time.
When I reflect on the road we have walked over the last year, I consider that time as sacred. We have been devastated and heartbroken. We have cried endless tears. This year we have had more questions than answers. We have been face-to-face with searing disappointment.
But we have also experienced the glorious presence of the Lord. We have seen with certainty that He is near the brokenhearted. He has dealt compassionately and tenderly with us over these months and provided for our every need. We have encountered the Lord in indescribable ways as he is continuing to carry us through a season of unimaginable pain and sorrow. We have peace that makes no sense, and we have joy because we have Jesus.
Scripture has come alive to me in new ways, seemingly jumping off the pages, as the Lord has graciously reminded me of His truth and His promises. He has been El Roi to me along this journey – the God who sees me in my pain.
The day after Isaac died, a storm came through whose straight-line winds took down nearly one third of a giant 80-year-old oak tree in our front yard, blocking the road entirely. Our hearts filled with discouragement and defeat. It felt insurmountable. Within about 15 minutes, nearly 20 neighbors showed up with chainsaws to help clear the tree and clean up the debris. In less than 45 minutes, it was gone. It was a way the Lord reminded me that He saw our pain. He blessed us with the gift of sweet community who became the tangible hands and feet of Jesus to us in our darkest moment.
Psalm 34 has been my anthem this year. Verses 1-5 say:
“I will extol the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips. My soul will boast in the Lord; let the afflicted hear and rejoice. Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt his name together. I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. Those who look on him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.”
And verses 18-19 say:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed. The righteous person faces many troubles, but the Lord comes to the rescue each time.”
This Christmas, there is an empty stocking at our house hanging alongside the others. It doesn’t look the way we dreamed it would. In all my years of observing and sharing in the pain and grief of others, I can echo what I’ve seen to be true among those whose faith is in God: We have walked a hard road this year, and the truth is I wouldn’t trade it. The Lord’s nearness has been almost palpable at times. We’ve gotten the faintest glimpse of heaven, and we have been forever changed. Blessed are they that mourn—we are the lucky ones. In our mourning, we receive the inexplicable, joyous comfort of Christ. That grief is a gift is a deep mystery to me.
There have been times over the past few days when discouragement has settled in and I have had to fight to reorient my own heart to the truths of scripture. I am rehearsing the ways I’ve seen God’s faithfulness in our story and am asking God to help me interpret my pain through the lens of His character and His mercy.
God is teaching me to embrace the tension of holding heartache and hope. He has taken my sleepless nights, desperate prayers, profound loss and grief, tragedy, tears, darkness, depression, anxiety, fear, and heartache. In exchange, He is giving me beauty for ashes. He is redeeming these things with His nearness, provision, trust in His goodness and wisdom, deep gratitude, sustaining grace, all-surpassing peace, rest, hope, encouragement, friendship and support, compassion and care from friends, family, and strangers. He is the Rock that sustains me; my stronghold and my salvation; the One who drives out my fear.
He has taught me afresh to long for Heaven. He has shown me that a heart of gratitude and a posture of worship are healing for my grieving soul. It is easy to think that grief is in conflict with worship. But God can use our grief as a conduit to worship as He gently leads us through our brokenness and disappointment. The path from heartbreak to hope is a hurting heart whose honest cries are lifted to the Lord.
Perhaps this Christmas, you are facing heartache and deep disappointment of your own. My prayer is that you would know without a doubt that God is for you, and He is with you in your pain. He is not far off. He is Immanuel – God With Us; the Word that became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14). If you find yourself in the middle of a hard season, I pray you would work out your wrestling with God; and that you would remember that no matter your circumstances, God is worthy of your worship.
Jesus promised us that “in this world we will have trouble” (John 16:33). Grief is messy. It isn’t linear. It doesn’t have an expiration date. It’s called the “new normal” because there is no going back to the way things were before. Other people’s timelines and expectations for our grief can be difficult. I’m having to learn to give myself a lot of grace and to seek out safe places to express my grief. Just this week I’ve had days where showing up felt like a tremendous act of bravery. Jesus has given us the assurance that He has overcome the world. This means we don’t grieve like the rest of mankind who have no hope. It means we are hard pressed on every side but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed (2 Corinthians 4:8-9). It means that into our darkness His light shines.
Isaiah 9:1-2 says:
“Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress.” And “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.”
In our heartache, we can rest in this hope: the darker our night, the brighter His light shines.
“Come and listen, all you who fear God; let me tell you what He has done for me.” – Psalm 66:16
A friend gifted me with a Chronological Study Bible for Christmas this past year. My bible study in January had me reading through the Old Testament book of Job—a book I have read many times throughout my life. But reading through Job this time felt personal. I sensed the Lord revealing to me that my “Job moment” was coming soon—a season of intense testing of my faith; a season that would crush me and render me forever changed. I did not know what that meant, but it would not take long for me to find out.
A few short weeks later, on February 8, 2023, I went in for a prenatal visit at my OBGYN’s clinic for a routine 12-week ultrasound for my fourth pregnancy. This ultrasound revealed some concerning abnormalities that indicated a life-limiting fetal diagnosis. I had bloodwork done and won a trip to a Maternal Fetal Medicine specialist in Birmingham for additional genetic testing and a more comprehensive ultrasound. These tests all confirmed the diagnosis of Full Trisomy 13, a rare chromosomal anomaly in which a third copy of the number 13 chromosome is present in every cell of the baby’s body, affecting the development of every organ system—a diagnosis known in the medical community as “incompatible with life”.
For three straight days, I wept and cried out to the Lord. From the moment we discovered we were expecting this baby, I had prayed for a whole and healthy child. The Lord tenderly revealed to me that through this story, we would not get the miracle we wanted, but we would get the miracles we needed. My mind went immediately back to my sophomore year of college when a dear friend’s mother received a terminal diagnosis. Her body was wracked with debilitating pain, yet she was determined that the question of her life in that moment was not “why me?” but “why not me?” She knew she had the hope of the living God inside of her and that His power would be made perfect in her weakness. I have thought about her outlook countless times over the last two decades, and I prayed that my faith would be rooted in that place such that I might respond in a similar way. I know the story God is writing is not for Clint and me alone.
We have been devastated and heartbroken. We have cried endless tears. We have mourned, and will continue to do so. But we have also experienced the nearness of the Lord. We have seen how He is near the brokenhearted. He has dealt compassionately and tenderly with us over these months and provided for our every need—in some cases, needs we did not know we had. We have experienced an outpouring of love, support, prayers, and gifts. We have received so many blessings along the way.
The results of the genetic testing also indicated that this baby is a boy. We named him Isaac Joel. Isaac means “laughter.” He was the greatest test of his father Abraham’s faith in the Genesis narrative. This name is a constant reminder to us that we are placing him on the altar to give him back to the Lord. Joel means “the Lord is God.” This journey has brought into clear focus for us that God is sovereign and He does what He wants. He is not surprised by any of this. We know that nothing touches us that does not pass through His hands first. We do not understand why God chooses to allow these things in our lives, but we know that He is wise and He is good in all things, so He can be trusted.
God commanded the Old Testament prophet Ezekiel to experience some difficult and devastating moments of loss. But the book of Ezekiel begins with God opening the heavens and showing him His glory through a series of spectacular visions. Once we have seen the glory of God, saying “yes” to whatever He asks of us seems only fitting. I have never seen visions of the glory of God in this way. But I have tasted and seen that the Lord is good (Psalm 34:8). And I have walked with Him long enough to have seen his goodness in the land of the living (Psalm 27:13).
We have not walked this road perfectly. We have had our share of doubts and questions. We have had moments when our faith has wavered. The Gospels of Matthew and Mark both tell the story of four friends who carried their paralytic friend to Jesus. They could not get close enough to Him, so they carried their friend up on the roof of the house where Jesus was teaching and cut a hole in the roof through which they lowered him. The faith of this man’s friends saved him. There have been moments when friends and family have lent us this kind of faith. For this we are forever grateful.
We do not yet know the end of this story. As I write this, we are still a few weeks away from delivery. We were told to expect a range of outcomes, to include late term stillbirth, or if Isaac is born alive, we may have him for a few minutes, a few hours, or a few days—possibly a few weeks. God has given us so many miracles along this journey (that is an entirely other post for another time) that have defied the odds of Trisomy 13. As we navigate the challenging weeks, months, and years ahead, it is our desire that the name of Jesus would be magnified. Harder days are coming. Even so, God is worthy of our praise, and in His presence, there is fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11).
We are grateful for your friendship and we treasure your prayers for our family.
I recently traveled to China for a business trip, where, among many other things, I was privileged to meet face-to-face for the first time with a colleague I’ve been corresponding with via email for the past 7 months. This woman is our (my boss’s and mine) lifeline into the Chinese culture and language. She travels with us throughout the mainland, serving as our translator and, in a lot of ways, a business partner. Throughout the year, she goes on our behalf to scope out factories and find places with quality products and good working conditions so that our business can remain viable. She emails me pictures of her family and her adorable toddler daughter.
Market in Hong Kong
Prior to our arriving in China for this particular trip, she worked to ensure we had what we needed to get our visas, made travel arrangements for in-country transit, and secured our train tickets. She and her husband picked us up at our hotel daily and helped us communicate to order a meal or to negotiate a new pricing structure for our business in the new year.
One of the workers in the Flower Market in Hong Kong
During dinner one night, I asked for recommendations on a good place to buy a souvenir for my husband. We were one week away from the Chinese New Year and Spring Festival, celebrating the Year of the Horse, and I wanted a small keepsake to bring home for Clint. She asked some of the others at the table, and they all sat there scratching their heads. This part of China is not accustomed to having many tourists. They were stumped. No one knew of a place. Oh well, I thought. Maybe I can find something for him when we get to another city.
Little Buddha statues in the Flower Market in Hong Kong
The next morning, she and another gentleman in our party dropped us off so we could take care of our business in the care of another English-speaking counterpart. They returned three hours later, after having gone to countless shops, scouring the streets for a place where they could find a suitable memento for me to take home. She walked into the room where we were sitting and handed me a beautiful statuette of a horse and refused to accept any money for it. It was their gift. I was completely humbled, stunned. I struggled to find the words to express my gratitude and I fought back a few tears because it was such a touching gesture.
Year of the Horse statuette from my friend
Finally, I was able to eek out a genuine “Thank you.” Through broken English, I heard her say the same thing she told me whenever I thanked her for the train tickets, the rides back to the hotel, paying for my dinner–I heard her say some of my favorite words: “Esther, we are friends.”
We are friends! What a beautiful thing. At this point in my life, I have done quite a bit of international travel. Going to countries where I can’t read, communicate, or understand the language, making it difficult to get around on my own, has given me an increased appreciation for special people like this precious woman, as well as other friends of mine around the world, whose hospitality has gone far beyond what was generally expected. Every time I find myself in the presence of these acquaintances, I welcome these comforting words: “Esther, we are friends.”
Chinese lemons
I am reminded of the passage in the New Testament book of James that says:
And the scripture was fulfilled that says, “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness,” and he was called God’s friend. – James 2:23 (Emphasis added)
I am a foreigner on this side of heaven. I am constantly reminded that I don’t quite fit in to this world, but I have the advantage of knowing that I am a friend of God. He is always available to help me navigate the difficult challenges on this adventure called life. Through the words of my colleague in China, I felt Jesus whisper, “Esther, we are friends.”
On October 2nd, 2013, I received news that my dear friend and respected mentor Mark Junkins entered into the presence of the Lord. While my soul rejoices for Mark, my heart breaks for his precious wife, their wonderful sons (and their wives), and also for myself because of the significance and profoundness of this earthly loss. My relationship with this amazing family has defined several different stages of my life since we had the pleasure of encountering one another for the first time several years ago. Mark’s wife Phyllis asked me to share some remarks during his funeral service last week (this service was a celebration of a good life and a great God). It was my high honor to offer others insight into the kind of man (and family) represented there. A few people have asked for me to share those remarks. I have dedicated this post in loving memory of a truly faithful servant of Jesus Christ. And in the words of Mark, “Press on!”
With our adopted parents at our wedding July 2013
Good afternoon. On behalf of the Junkins family, I would like to say thank you all for making the effort to join us today, either by your physical presence here or through the web. I know there are people all over this country and the world who have expressed their desire to be with us, and for whatever reason, were not able to be here.
I’ve spent a lot of time with Phyllis and her family over the past few days, and they have asked that I express to you how much it means to them all of the things that you have done—all of the phone calls, your presence, the food—all of it has been a tremendous blessing, and words cannot say “thank you” enough for what you’ve done. I appreciate, personally, having been able to be a part of this over the past few days and would like to say that I appreciate you joining us in celebrating the life of an incredible man—Mark Junkins—and worshipping our great God whom Mark so diligently served.
My name is Esther Camealy and I first came to know Mark and Phyllis in 2009 as a graduate student at Mississippi State. I had a couple of friends at Columbus Air Force Base. One friend in particular named Anthony Riggan persisted in telling me about his Bible study teachers who invited people out to their house to hunt armadillos. I had lived in Mississippi all my life and had never heard of anything as redneck at what was going on in McShan, AL. So I went for a visit one Saturday afternoon, having no idea how much my life was about to change. What I thought was a casual invitation into the Junkins’ home was in actuality a permanent invitation into their hearts. Mark and Phyllis quickly adopted me into their family. In fact, when Travis moved away, Phyllis redecorated his room and started telling people that it was Esther’s room! But don’t worry, Travis, I’ll be happy to let you stay there tonight!
When Phyllis called me Wednesday morning with the news of Mark’s passing, I didn’t hesitate. My husband and I immediately packed our bags and drove from our home in Huntsville to help with whatever we could. As I sat down to pen Mark’s obituary, I was struck by how many times I used a variant of the word “serve.” I started to replace some of them with other words, but none were more appropriate. Mark embodied the Biblical model in Philippians 2 of a servant leader. Out of all of the things I know of Mark, all of the wonderful things I could say about his life, what I know is that he did everything he could to point other people to Jesus Christ.
He served his country as a diver in the US Navy and led many soldiers.
He served his community through leadership roles in various civic organizations.
He served his industry by leading with professionalism, positivity, and passion for people and Southern Pine–something that transcended cultures and language barriers around the world and commanded respect from leaders in his industry in every hemisphere.
Mark served his church here at Mt. Vernon in the capacity of an elder, teacher, advisor, and disciple-maker. In his service to Mt. Vernon, he and Phyllis were uniquely qualified to reach and lead some of our nation’s brightest military men and women training at Columbus Air Force Base. He and Phyllis had a special gift of hospitality unlike anyone I have ever known. They have adopted almost every student pilot who has ever walked through the doors of Mt. Vernon’s Pre Flight Bible Study. As a result, Mark has had a profound influence through which he has left an indelible impression on the hearts of countless airmen currently stationed all over the globe.
Mark also served his family as the God-ordained head of his household. As a husband and father, he took seriously his responsibility to be the incarnate expression of Jesus Christ to Phyllis, Travis, John Mark, and countless others who looked to him as a father figure in their own lives.
Mark absorbing Lincoln’s wisdom at Gettysburg. Mark: “One of my favorite quotes from Lincoln: ‘I do not like that man; I shall get to know him better.'”
Travis and John Mark, he was so proud of the men you have become, and he dearly loved the beautiful women you have chosen to be your wives.
Phyllis, there is no doubt that Mark was completely and faithfully devoted to you. Some of my favorite memories of all time are of the two of you together. I cannot recall the number of times I would drive home from a weekend with you in pain; my sides splitting, my head pounding, and my cheeks aching from laughing so hard. What has amazed me over these days is that there are a lot of people that don’t know this side of Mark; they have only known the serious part of him. I treasure those moments. Mark was one of the funniest people I have ever known and he thrived off of expressing his love to you by making you laugh.
Secrets don’t make friends!
Secrets don’t make friends!
Possibly one of the funniest nights of my life. I can’t remember a time I have ever laughed so hard
You and I have talked much over the past few days that Mark was an observer of human nature, and as a man I deeply respected, I was an observer of Mark Junkins and his relationship with you. Whenever he would say funny things, I would write them down. And I have a list of a few of those things I would like to share with you now.
During a recent phone conversation with you, you told me that Mark had come home from the mill for lunch in the middle of the day. You prepared pork chops, homemade mashed potatoes, and fresh vegetables. After watching Mark gulp down the delicious gourmet morsels, you asked him what he thought of the meal. He simply quipped, “Adequate.”
Whenever I would come for a visit, Mark would wait until you were paying attention to tell me that you were “often wrong, but never uncertain.” He would also remark about your “speech unencumbered by the thought process.” Whenever he’d say these things, you would retort that his “deportment needed improving,” at which point Mark would poke his head around the corner and threaten you with “hide and watch,” his eyes shining, a grin stretching from ear to ear under his thick 1981 Navy-issued mustache. These playful, loving remarks always indicated to me that yours was a beautiful, healthy marriage. It was obvious that you both still enjoyed each other’s company after all these years. Your marriage has been a true example to me as a newlywed of a Christ-centered foundation full of laughter and joy.
Mark & Phyllis enjoying a dance together at Travis & Kelly Jo’s wedding
Cutting a rug at Travis and Kelly Jo’s Pennsylvania wedding. Me: “Who knew Mark and Phyllis had moves like THAT?!” Mark: “Mark and Phyllis.”
You know that I loved Mark like a father. His loss is profound, but I can assure you that God was not caught off guard by his passing and He will see you through the days ahead. In Lamentations 3:22-23, Jeremiah reminds us of this: “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”
Phyllis commissioned this painting titled “Divinely Bovine” from me for an anniversary present for Mark in May 2013
Look around you this afternoon. You are surrounded by people who loved Mark and who love you, people whose lives have been made infinitely better for knowing your family. In these days when it may seem difficult to feel God, I pray that you will experience His presence through the love and support of so many of these friends and family represented here today, and many who regretted that they were not able to be here but have committed to pray for and serve you in so many ways.
There are so many more things that I would like to share, but I will close with this. These two things remain for us to do: to grieve our great loss and to trust that God is good.
It’s hard to believe that another year has come and gone. I’ve been so busy lately with everything I have going on, that this birthday has completely snuck up on me. 27 has been a great year, full of many God-ordained accomplishments. I published a book, went to Africa, became engaged to the incredible man God has been preparing for me for so many years, and so much more. Since I didn’t have time to come up with a new list this year, I am posting the list of Life Lessons I created last year. I hope you enjoy.
Esther’s Top 27 List of Life Lessons
27. God is good. Life is not. Don’t confuse the two.
26. You can’t control how other people act and behave, but you can control how you react. Don’t react fast. Respond only after you understand the situation. Don’t react if you can ignore it. It is okay to be angry. It is never okay to be cruel. Forgiveness is not an emotion but a choice.
25. You win some and you lose some; always remember that you win some. Sometimes you need to lose in order to win at the end. Don’t stop just because something is in your way. Taking ownership of failure builds the foundation for success.
24. In work and business, when they need you more than you need them, you have succeeded.
23. Embrace awkward—if for no other reason than it makes for a great story.
22. Enjoy every season of your life. Don’t rush dating or marriage. Use your single years to work on becoming the type of spouse you hope to someday be.
21. An ending really is the opportunity for a new beginning.
20. One of my favorite lessons from Business school: Celebrate the “small wins.” Getting that first win is difficult, because objects at rest tend to stay at rest, but once a small win has been accomplished, forces are set in motion that favor another small win and another…
19. Dreams don’t only have to exist when the lights are out and your eyes are shut. But don’t just talk about them—do something! There’s a big difference between knowing and doing. Knowledge is basically useless without action. If you never act, you will never know for sure. Where there is a will, there is more than one way.
18. When it comes to living in a fallen world, you can either have freedom or you can have peace. The two are mutually exclusive. Freedom always comes at a high price.
17. There is no alternative to hard work. The harder the challenge the sweeter the victory; the higher the climb the sweeter the view. It’s as true in life as it is in business: Your greatest problem or challenge is your greatest opportunity.
16. Kindness and hard work will take you further than intelligence. If you have the choice to be right or kind, choose kindness every time. It’s not so much what you say that counts; it’s how you make people feel.
15. Learn to say no. Learning to focus on creating healthy boundaries makes life easier.
14. Shakespeare said it best when he said, “To thine own self be true.” Love yourself first. Be sure you know you deserve to be loved. If you don’t think yourself worthy, ask “why?” and find the ridiculousness in the answer. Once you stop trying to impress others and start to be yourself is when you’ll truly become happy. The one with nothing to hide is always the one left standing tall.
13. An anonymous proverb says, “Blessed are the flexible, for they never get bent out of shape.” If there is anything you can count on in life, it’s change. Roll with it.
12. Motivational speaker Charlie ‘Tremendous’ Jones says, “You’ll be the same person in five years as you are today, except for the people you meet and the books you read.” Reading can open doors that no keys can.
11. In The Count of Monte Cristo, Mercedès Iguanada says: “I see God in everything—even in a kiss.” This is a reminder to appreciate all of the simple things in life: the sunshine, the sky, the shoes on your feet, and the heart beating in your chest—to look for God in all things. Be grateful always. In all things, good and bad, give thanks. Every day may not be good, but there’s something good in each day.
10. Laugh (out loud) until you cry. George Bernard Shaw said: “Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh.” You are never too busy to laugh; neither is a situation ever too serious for a smile. Don’t get caught up in your own sense of importance. When you let go and laugh, it’s infectious. Everyone around you feels it.
9. Never be too proud to ask for help.
8. Be careful when you use the word “maybe.” Make sure that it doesn’t always mean “no.”
7. Dancing is always free. Turn up the music, kick off your shoes, bust a move, and shake all your cares away.
6. When life ignites your spirit or when life tries to destroy it, this is just a reminder of how closely related they are.
5. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade…but do not try to sell it. Instead, give it away for free. Leave things better than you found them.
4. There is no feeling sweeter than being debt free. Money makes life easier only when the money is yours free and clear. “The rich rule over the poor and the borrower is slave to the lender” – Proverbs 22:7.
3. Growing up with a family in the funeral business, I saw very clearly the need to take advantage of every opportunity to let people in my life know how much I appreciate them. Don’t wait until the visitation to express how much someone means to you. Death is what makes life precious. The time is now.
2. Be sure to remember that the phone and computer are last resorts to communicate. Sometimes it’s best to go out of your way to get in the way of someone special.
1. Probably the most profound lesson I learned in Business school: Never let the urgent crowd out the important. Walk slowly, watch the sunrise, write letters, skip rocks, call your mom, journal, talk to old people, smile at strangers, and eat lots of ice cream.
The focus of this blog has primarily been what God has been teaching me through various travels. For a slightly different twist, please visit my wedding website http://clintandesther.ourwedding.com/ to read about a different kind of journey God currently has me on!
Glimpses of Grace Snapshots of Mercy 