Messages from the dust

It only took a couple minutes rediscovering entries on this blog from 5-10 years ago, and I'm in awe. I wrote messages to myself that I didn't know I would need!
 
The last 3 posts I made:

"Claire at three, almost four" is a snapshot of time when Claire Bear was younger, and gives me a glimpse of what Jane might have been like and what my life would have looked like with her next year. It's fun for me to remember how it felt to have Claire at that age, and helpful to imagine Jane there too.

"Mikey, you're seven months". In this post I name a few reasons why it made sense for Michael to be our last baby and I say that I think he is. It makes be so grateful for the impressions the I continued to feel and that I LISTENED TO, and that, in fact, sweet Michael was not our last child. How happy I am to know that we had a spit-fire coming down the line! A precious little girl that would drop in briefly and profoundly impact our family forever. I never could have designed it, nor imagined what was to come for us. I wonder if I would have had the courage to, knowing what her plan was, and understand that this is why we trust in the Lord. We tend to be too weak to put ourselves through experiences that are really, really tough - and that create hardcore depth and growth. 

"Until we meet again".... I posted a video about REMEMBERING TRUTHS surrounding death and eternal relationships. Wow. Just wow. Thanking myself...... 

When I read this old blog, I am reminded of what I already know. I am reminded of who I am when I am not balancing on the emotional edge of grief and loss. I am reminded of what I want most for myself and for my family -- and that is NOT the easy way. It is NOT always the sunny side up. It is the real, raw, dig-in and get-it-done life experience. The quotes I places on the sidebar of this blog?  THEY represent who I am and who I want to be!

And here I am....  trying to walk the walk. 

My grandma Goesch passed away a few months ago and had lovingly and thoughtfully chosen items in her house to leave for her kids and grandkids and great-grandkids! My mom and her siblings have been going through the house distributing things to those who they are intended for, and she gave me my piece. It's a large, handmade drummer boy that has always hung in the guest room I slept in at grandma's house.  On the back, in grandma's own handwriting, and dated 2011, my wise and faithful grandmother wrote the words:  "Anne, Just Keep Marching like this Drummer Boy".

When I read it my eyes filled with tears. It is a message from the dust. My grandmother had no way of knowing when she would pass, or what would be happening in my life when she did. And yet she wrote what I needed to hear from her so many years ago. Basically, 'KEEP WALKING.  Keep your head up and keep enduring.'

The best is yet to come.