Losing Austin, Finding Myself

2012-02-28T20:08:00.001-05:00

- Posted uzbsgdgyhdhkjsjkkkkskjsjsjjkkkkkkskjsjsksjsnnsnjkkjsjsjjskjjjk zhnbhhhjn 👿👿💗⬆⬆⬇nAnznpMykhgnukmyk⬇m dysing BlogPress from my iPhone

Location: Nnnb m nnnnncmfm hbnnnn n↖

2012-02-28T19:57:00.001-05:00

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Waiting Games

2012-02-22T12:54:00.001-05:00

Patience is not a virtue I'm gifted with. Waiting is torture, and I solve it with busyness to pass the time. But I've gotten to the point where waiting even 2 minutes sends me to do one more quick thing- send an email, check out Facebook, send a text or make a move on a game. I call it multitasking and being productive, but often it's just promoting my sense of hurry up and do more in less.

Waiting for bigger things is even tougher. It is for most of us. We've been waiting 12+ years for an effective treatment for Michael. We've been waiting almost 5 years to find Austin. This week I had to wait 3 days for answers from medical tests, and now wait longer to hope the symptoms just resolve since the tests didn't show anything definitive. My mom was dealt a tough situation this week that requires waiting. I don't like any of these. I'd like to demand God to solve them all. Now. Please?

But that's not how He works, and I know that though I still whine about it sometimes. Those are the days that things feel like they're piling up, and the waiting is pushing my faith. I'm trying to see these times as what they really are, a time to learn through that push, to rely on faith even more. And maybe to have more to share with someone who is also waiting.

I'm making a concerted effort to use those more of those moments of downtime to talk with God. I'm praying for peace and a slower pace. And I'm still praying for answers, but with a little more peace about the wait.

Isaiah 40:31
But those who wait on the LORD shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint. (NKJV)

Trying daily..... Anita

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A bit more crazy....

2012-02-20T10:55:00.000-05:00

You're going to think this sounds crazy, and I've started to write variations of this post many times before but always stop myself because I can't let you see all the crazy. Not all at once anyway.

I was on my favorite ~~time wasting~~ idea inspiring site, Pinterest last week, and saw this look. My first thought? Ooh, that's my funeral outfit! Not for any random funeral, but for Austin's. For quite a while I've had a list of songs to consider for his service and have always joked that it would be my excuse to buy new big black sunglasses. You know, cause no one gets to see me cry. I make jokes to cope, and I think I routinely look at things in a realistic way, to help prepare myself for what may come, while realizing that the worst case scenario rarely happens. And I look for ways to see the best in a bad situation. Since I believe that we'll almost certainly find Austin one day through discovery of remains, to me a funeral is realistic.

It's also something I am jealous of... because though it would mean answers we don't want, it would mean answers. It would mean finally being able to explain to my son where his uncle is when he asks. It would mean having a complete story of Austin to tell my younger son one day, who never met him.

So this outfit is an odd combo of hope that we'll have answers one day, realism that when we do it will likely be answers that hurt, and trying to make the best of things by thinking that at least I could look stylish through grief. So yes, I'm a bit crazy. But I do see all that in the photo.

p.s. except the shoes, with those I just see me with another ankle or knee surgery!

Taking a Breath

2012-02-01T14:33:00.001-05:00

January was an eye opening month for me. I used to dread it, with the dreary days and post-holiday letdown. That was of course before two boys kept me running like a madwoman, and I committed myself to so many things that I love but drain me. Now I see it as a time of refresh, a little bit slower, and a time to reprioritize and reorganize. As I take a breath, I'm better able to hear God it seems, and better able to reassess.

So back to those eye opening moments that led to these thoughts.

1. Just because I'm doing good things, doesn't mean I'm doing the right things, or even doing things for the right reasons. Drop decisions through the filter of what I believe I should be doing, and things become a bit more clear. Drop things through the filter of the attitude with which I'm doing them, and well.... you just see that I may just need to change my attitude. Often true.

2. God loves me and that's crazy. This isn't exactly a new revelation, but I was blown away by it recently. With all He is, and all He does, and all He could find fault with in me, He loves me anyway. And when you have that type of love, you have to do crazy things for Him in return. Trying to figure out what those crazy things are though keeping in mind #1.

3. God is preparing me for many things- they may all be small. Or they could be huge. I should be ready regardless, because He is using me here and now no matter what. And I'm not taking care of myself nearly as well as He is. So last week I committed to daily exercise to improve my health. And I'm loving the daily time alone with Him. I don't love waking up early to do it while the boys are in bed, but each morning is a reminder to be thankful for so much, including that I can wake up.

It's all a work in progress, I don't think any of us will ever be anything else. Isn't it crazy that God loves us no matter where we are in that work?

p.s. The slower pace is already changing from when I first wrote this two days ago. Glad I organized my thoughts to help me as the pace quickens!

The Deep End

2012-01-26T10:38:00.000-05:00

This morning I did a search on a few key words, hoping to find that our press release last week garnered at least one tiny mention in local news. So far, nothing. But it did lead me to read back over a few articles from the early days of our search, and reading those were a bit surreal.

In one, my Dad was quoted as saying "My fingers and ears are sore from communicating non-stop," and the article said "indeed it appears that he, family and friends have left no avenue unturned in their fervent hunt for their loved one, a hunt they believe will be successful." In another article, I was quoted as saying ""We're never going to stop looking for him," she said. "We'll keep searching til the day he's found, whether that means they find him alive or find his remains." My mom had similar quotes, with the added impact of being a mom searching for her son.

During that time, though we had to beg for coverage and help, we found it. We were fortunate. But now it's been almost five years, and the quotes would be much different. Very few people ask questions about Austin, and it's very seldom we talk about him. It seems as if all there is to say has been said. We no longer have large scale searches every weekend and spend our weekdays hanging flyers and knocking on doors. The areas that family and experts alike think to search have been searched and cleared, it's no longer likely someone will see his face on a flyer and remember seeing him.

Today's quotes might be different, but have no doubt that the same belief that we will be successful in our search is still there. Our timelines have shifted- we now know it may be years more, instead of the days we initially expected. For some of us the belief of what we'll find has been shifted.

The world moves on so quickly and we so often expect people to move on- but hearts don't heal as fast as the news changes, and not all stories can get wrapped up in a bow. I read a post from the mother of a missing woman who has been gone 8 years next week, Elsha Rivera. She's raising money to put flyers out to the Fort Worth, Texas area where she was last seen, and hoping to get media coverage. She was asked yesterday why she's bothers. She bothers because her daughter is missing. She bothers because her grandchildren miss their mom. She bothers because someone likely did something to Elsha, and that person is still out there to hurt others.

The more I think about it, the more I'm glad that people don't just move on. I'm not sure what our world would be like if love was so shallow. Love is deep. Thank you God for that.

Check out Elsha's story today.

Proud of my Mom

2012-01-20T16:50:00.000-05:00

Yahtzee!

2012-01-16T13:32:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, Ben was digging through a stash of board games and found an old Yahtzee box. He grabbed my hand and pulled me over, asking me to play with him. We play a lot of games in our house. If we're eating we're playing something. If we're driving we're playing something. We play games, make up games (Shoopahat should be marketed!), shop for games.... we love games.

It's no surprise I married a man as competitive (and fun loving! game loving = fun loving or so I tell myself so I don't just seem a competitive crazy!). Once upon a time I had to play Yahtzee with my mom for 4 hours because I was winning and she couldn't stop until she got back in the lead- I finally quit ahead, knowing she'd never give up.

Sometimes I forget small details about Austin, wrapped up in the last days and the what nows... but Ben gave me a gift when he dug through the game stash and pulled out the Yahtzee box. Not only did he confirm that he's one of us, but when I looked down at what he was scribbling his 'scores' on, I saw this:

It was a small reminder of when we could sit down and play a game, laugh together, and postpone difficult things for a few minutes of fun.

It made me smile. It made me not mind the mess Ben made, and sit there playing even longer.

By the way, it's hard to tell from the scoresheets who won- he had fewer games on the card, so not sure which matched up against which. Wish we could settle it with a rematch. I might even let him win.... nah.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Break in the Clouds

2012-01-11T19:28:00.002-05:00

It's a gloomy, rainy, cold and bleak day where I am today. Its not that bad by a local's standard, but it's 30 degrees warmer at home. I want to get home. Days like this often make me think of Austin because of the dark nature of the clouds and rain. And much like spring seems so far away that it's hard to believe it will ever come, warm bright days must have seemed that far away from Austin. He had so many rainy, cold and gloomy days in a row, where the sun peaked from behind the clouds for moments, but didn't stay.

As I began to write this, I had a sense that I've written this exact thing before, and I must have run out of original thoughts. But that's how it is when you have a missing loved one. You don't get to follow the grief model, going through phases with an eventual new normal. In our world, we go in circles, repeating searches, repeating emotions, repeating thoughts. Even when you aren't battling depression, life with a missing loved one mimics it. There are glimpses of sun, days when we believe that answers will come soon. But the days linger on, turning to months and years, like a long dreary rain with nothing but gray clouds in sight.

So forgive us if we don't move on, we seem stuck, or we seem to have lost hope some days. Or if we just write the same blog post over and over. One day the sun will break in our search and I'll figure out what to write then. - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Do what you do

2012-01-05T13:55:00.000-05:00

I always dream big in the New Year, and in my best years dream big about how I could serve God- like.... let's pack up the family and spend a year traveling and serving to help others and teach our children that there is nothing more important that what we give. Or this will be the year I write the book that inspires people to find their hope in God alone.

That's all cool stuff. That's all stuff I dream of doing, and hope to one day. But that's not today.

Today I'm at work, then heading home to play with my kids and make sure baths and homework and more is done. I'll need to fold some laundry, pick up toys, possibly even cook.

So today isn't the day I do works in His name to show others His love. But of course it is! Or it can be. Colossians 3:23 says Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men. My friend Diane never forgot that whatever she did could be an act of worship if done with the right attitude. She told friends to light a candle while doing household chores as a reminder that they were serving their family and so serving God by taking care of showing them love. She turned the ordinary into worship, simply by it being that in her own heart.

So today I'm reminded, to do whatever I do knowing that where I am is where I serve today.

'Do Everything' Video- Steven Curtis Chapman

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Another Year, Another Prayer

2012-01-02T09:59:00.000-05:00

The passing of time is bittersweet, with the joy of watching my children grow, but realizing that each day they're closer to being all grown. With each passing year I strengthen relationships that have weathered storms, but also realize that more years have passed without connecting with old cherished friends. We welcome new life, but also realize that the days are dwindling for others we love.

That bittersweet realization came especially true last week as I visited my ailing grandmother, likely seeing her for the last time. Our family had some time to explore the area, playing in parks I played in as a young child, and seeing family that I love and rarely see. Visiting those roots, and the passing of another year also makes me think of Austin with bittersweet memories. His photos are in that home, from him as a baby to the most recent ones we have, and I was reminded that there are people who remember and love him. That part was sweet, as the only people who seem to remember him are family, and some days feel as the rest of the world doesn't know he lived. But another year has passed with no word, no answers, no closer it seems.

This was our fifth Christmas without him, and in some ways it is easier and in some ways harder than the first. I was thinking on the families going through their first, and likely not sure how they'll ever get through another if they must. I remember being them, meeting a family who had been searching for 7 years, and thinking that we couldn't do that. But we're close, and if the years continue on, so will we. But I also know that family we met found answers, as I hope we will.

But through all of those thoughts, both of loss and of how much we have, I tried to think of how to start the new year. Last year I decided to begin writing, decided to put my heart on 'paper' and share with anyone who would read it. That was a huge leap for me, as I prefer to share my thoughts, but not really my feelings. And it has been good, better than I imagined actually.

I heard Rick Warren speak yesterday (via video). He is the author of 'The Purpose Driven Life' which is the best selling book of all time worldwide, other than the bible. Wow. To have that kind of influence and to be used by God in such a way! He said that the purpose of influence is to speak for those who have no influence. I was reminded yet again that while my influence is small, I can use it to speak for those who have no influence- those who are hurting, those without hope, or those with it who need someone to help.

While I listened, and wondered how I could do that more, he went on to say that this year we should look at what we have and throw it down to God. Much like Moses gave his shepard staff to God, and God used it to lead His people across the Red Sea, we can look at what we have in our hands and though we may have no idea how God can or will use it, if we give it to Him, He will.

So this year, I'd like to share my story with more, throwing down the small gift I have to offer. I pray that this year, God uses my heart and story even more than last year, and that I have the courage to look for opportunities to share it. My fears in asking for opportunities to share is something that I can't overcome alone, but can with Him. So there it is, my prayer for the New Year.

I pray that this year, we all use the influence we have to speak for those who have no influence. That whatever usually gets in our way, from fear to complacency, be pushed aside. That we look at what we already have in our hand and throw it down for God to use. You and I will likely never have the influence of Rick Warren, but we can be used here and now.

Happy New Year!

Giving Beyond

2011-12-25T15:03:00.002-05:00

Year after year there are discussions about consumerism taking over and making Christmas something other than it should be, about the birth of the Christ Jesus. This year I struggled with deciding how much was too much as always. I don't want my children to believe that Christmas is about Santa and presents, but know the joy of truly celebrating Christmas.

As I stood watching them with their gifts this morning, I was overcome with the magic of Christmas yet again. My oldest has really struggled with obedience and respect lately, and didn't deserve to be lavished with all the things he got. But it hit me, that we didn't deserve the gift that God gave us over 2,000 years ago. He lavished us with all of his love, knowing that we could never earn it. I struggle with disobedience daily and yet He gives. He gave the greatest gift, with sacrifice and with joy. And because of that we can know the depths of His love.

So yes, we can go overboard in presents, but this is one time where we can show others the kind of love that God has shown us. Let's not make it about the gifts themselves, but remember that because He gave us everything, we can give much.

Give today. Give every day. Give sacrificially and joyously, even when it can never be repaid or earned.

This is what I want to teach my children, that Christmas is about giving all you have to those you love and to thank God daily for loving us so much that He gave all.

Merry Christmas.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Giving

Stuck

2011-12-12T11:16:00.001-05:00

I've been stuck.

My last post was written as I grieved my friend ending her life, though I had missed her for years as her illness had overcome her. But it was a few days later when I was stopped in my tracks and became stuck.

Josh performing at The Church at Argyle

Just before the service, an acquaintance expressed anger at all the friends who had let Diane down, which obviously included me. It was a blow. I had already been thinking it, wondering if I could have or should have done more. Just like I have asked since Austin has been gone. No one had ever told me I failed, those were only my fears and hurts. But for 5 years, I had wanted to help Diane more than I could, and for almost that long have regretted not doing more for Austin.

That accusation stuck me in place, not allowing me to fully believe the truth. For weeks, I've tried to move, I've tried to not let this keep me in this place, but facing the fifth Christmas without Austin and thinking on Diane's family facing the first without her made it tougher.

Then, last night I was blessed to hear an amazing artist perform live, Josh Wilson. Josh's music had touched me before, especially his song 'I Refuse' which inspired a blog post about 6 months ago. Last night as he sang that song, along with other incredible verses, I was reminded that God's plan for me is not to look back. God's plan for me is not continue to be stuck, even for just a few weeks. Josh sang beautiful words of Hope as well, but having Hope in God has never been a challenge for me. Taking steps to do what God has called me to do however, that takes facing fears, including the fear of past failure.

This Christmas, I challenge you to not be stuck by fear or hopelessness. I challenge you to see the world before you who needs to see the light of hope, and to be that light. My light may not shine on many, but may it shine as bright as possible on the few I can reach.

Vist Josh Wilson online

Goodbye My Friend

2011-11-19T19:45:00.001-05:00

Flying over a city is such a different perspective than what we see from the street. From a few thousand feet, it's difficult to distinguish between types of buildings, with homes and offices looking the same. Vehicles look the same, with no recognizable difference between passenger cars and semi trucks.

Then as you descend, things start to come into focus, and you begin to realize that there are neighborhoods and parks, shops and offices, looking much like in any other place you might land. And for a while the cars look like ants and no more movement can be seen.

Then it finally comes into focus, now seeing life buzzing all around, with people coming and going in their lives all around you. The homes no longer look all the same, and the personality of the area is perceived.

But you still don't see, even when on the ground, what is happening behind the doors. A drive through the neighborhood gives you some clues, but until you spend time in the home or in the business you still don't know the intricacies of the lives lived there. Even then, what we know is often what people want us to.

I wrote the first portion of this blog post while high above, when my access to the outside world was cut off and I only had my thoughts for company. I had no idea that when I landed, I'd learn that a friend was gone. I had been thinking just minutes before that I'm thankful we don't know what's around the corner, because we might not be able to face it. My timing was ironic.

Diane was a friend who came into my life when I truly needed a friend. We'd just moved home to Jacksonville, had a newborn and a lot of uncertainty. Though it was home, we didn't have an abundance of friends and little to connect us. We visited a church, felt welcomed and comfortable and after a few visits learned of a new moms group. It was just what I needed, and though I was nervous about going, went and found a small group of women who I would form lasting friendships with. Diane was the reason for the group, with her passion for connecting people.

As I got to know her, and then eventually her family, it was like flying in lower, starting to see more details and until we really saw behind the doors of each others homes and lives. When you get close to the ground, and close to people, you see that it's not as perfect and shiny as is looked from farther away. But you also see character and interest and details that make you love it or them more than you could have from above.

Diane had a sweet spirit and loving heart that was evident from far away. The closer you got, the more you could see it. She also had pain and torment from an illness that you didn't see from above at first, but over time her friends saw more clearly. She closed the doors, kept the windows drawn and mostly kept us out, as much as we tried to get in. And we tried. I've missed her for years, but prayed that one day she would throw the doors open and let people help.

In the end, her illness was too strong for her to see the promise of tomorrow. She loved her son more than life itself. She loved her husband through it all. But the pain was too much and she chose to end the pain.

I will always remember my friend for her sweet spirit, her smile and laugh, her love of people, and for bringing me together with people that are now true family.

But I will also remember that we never know what the next moments hold and we never know what we'll find as we get lower and closer to people. If we're blessed, we find people like Diane who only prove even truer when we get close.

I love you and miss you my friend.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Searching for Hope

2011-11-14T13:52:00.000-05:00

This weekend, while many people spent their mornings leisurely sipping coffee while reading a newspaper, at a farmers market, at a ball field, or shopping for gifts, there were people choosing to spend their weekend another way. They chose to leave their homes in various parts of Florida, coming in trucks with trailers, with four wheelers and generators, maps and flashlights, and dogs of all types. They met in the cold morning air, full of coffee and energy, and with a focus on their goal.

While some people thought about what gifts to buy a loved one for Christmas, they thought of how to give a gift to someone they love that could never be bought and the value of never measured.

Sunday morning, while many went to church to seek God's love, they went out to be God's love exemplified.

They thought they were searching for my brother.

And they were, but they were searching for more. They were searching for renewed hope for us, that people still care and that we may one day find him. They were searching for a way to show their love to someone who has worked beside them and become important to them, my Mom.

They didn't find Austin. But they did find hope. They did find a way to show love.

As the group pulled out Sunday evening, after days of exhausting work, they might have felt like they hadn't brought anything back to us. They would be wrong.

Thank you.

Let's Go!

2011-11-09T17:45:00.000-05:00

We've been trying to figure out what Ben has been 'singing' for a day or so. It sounds something like this- "la la rahu, la la" and a tongue clicking sound twice at the end. My husband the toddler translator finally figured it out. He's saying "let's go Drew, let's go" which is commonly heard at the ball field, chanted by the team as a kid goes up to bat.

Ben cheering for Drew on the mound

Ben adores his big brother and wants nothing more than to do what he does. But with a six and a half year age difference, that's just not possible. He wants in his room to play with anything of Drew's. He wants on the ball field to run the bases with him. He wants to go anywhere he goes.

Most little brothers are like that, but what may be the coolest thing about their relationship is that Drew is Ben's biggest fan too. Yes, he gets annoyed with him at times. He kicks him out of his room. But Drew loves him and hugs him and plays with him often. He shares with him (usually happily) and shows him how to do things.

They are each others biggest fans, and we love to watch it. And one day they won't play so nice and will fight and maybe even wish they were an only child, but hopefully for a short time.

We all need people cheering us on. People who believe in us. I sometimes believe in people more than they believe in themselves, and I know some days people believe in me more than I do myself. I'm thankful for people that God puts in my life to say "let's go!" to me and really believe in me. I pray that I can be a cheerleader for my boys and my husband every day. I pray that I can see friends in need of that and cheer them on as well.

I may not have a brother here to cheer me on, but I have great memories of days when he did. And I pray when my boys grow that they continue to cheer each other on, and have more than just memories.

Hebrews 10:24
Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.

Today

2011-11-08T19:47:00.001-05:00

Hours do not have enough minutes. Days do not have enough hours. Weeks do not have enough days. Months.... well, you get the picture. We run out of time to do what we need or what we want. We make choices constantly on what gets our time because for most of us, not everything we want can be done.

I face this daily. And daily I feel guilt over it. I feel guilt because I didn't spend enough time with my boys, didn't get home soon enough to give my amazing husband a break, didn't get tasks done on a project at work, didn't answer every question my team asked, didn't finish script edits for church, didn't check in with a friend I meant to, didn't make calls to get donations for the search. Then at times I feel guilty for not spending a bit more time on me to keep me from getting burned out so badly I have nothing left to give.

Last night we drove about 30 miles out of town and I had moments of dreaming of living out there, away from it all. Just me and the guys and a visit to town or visit from friends now and then. And then I remembered that I'd go crazy after two days.

I love all that I do. I'd love a little less of it, but I haven't figured out how to make that happen.

So for now, I'll keep doing the best I can. Today isn't the day I become the world's best mom, wife, sister, daughter, friend, employee, boss, volunteer or anything else. But maybe I'll do good enough to make it one more day.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Influence

2011-11-06T11:10:00.001-05:00

Throughout my life there have been many influential people, those I admired and respected and who helped shape my world view and self view. I could write entire posts about those people.

I listened to a speaker this week, one who has had influence on me and many around me, and thought how much I'd love to be able to have the impact and influence he has. Just a portion even. But one of the things he spoke about was the importance of leaders in our churches who partner with parents to influence our children. Influence + influence = even greater influence.

That got me thinking about how everyone has influence in some way. Each of us has influence in ways we realize and ways we don't. We hope our influence is more good than not. We sometimes forget that though we don't necessarily have influence over thousands, those we do impact matter just as much.

And our influence is probably greatest than we ever know. I wonder if Austin could have ever known what influence he would have. His name is known by many he never knew, and he's now pushing me out of my comfort zone to have influence on a few through sharing my experiences. He's having influence through my mom who is sharing her time and skills with families going through the same.

I needed the reminder that though my influence is small, someone is watching everything. My children are influenced by my actions more than my words daily, and they will also have influence one day. I need to never forget that.

You have influence. How are you using it today?

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Things I Hate

2011-11-03T08:36:00.001-04:00

1. Introducing myself to people. (though I love talking to groups)

2. Cold mornings. (thankful I live in Florida)

3. Sharing feelings. (though I'll tell you my thoughts any day)

4. That I didn't share more feelings with Austin. (but I hope my actions spoke louder than words)

5. Asking people for things. (and I seriously stink at it)

6. Failure. (anything less than success is not okay to me for myself, impossible standards sometimes)

7. Change. (the grass is always greener right where I am)

8. Missing People.

9. Socks. (I know it's weird, but they aren't for me.)

10. Having to face the things I hate. One of the reasons I'm stronger than I was 4 years ago is that I've had to face all that and more (the list could go on) though I didn't want to. I still don't like any of them, but I've found I can face them, can handle them after all.

Except socks.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

One Scary Night

2011-11-01T13:11:00.000-04:00

I do not enjoy scary things and never have. We could delve into my psyche to figure out if it was indeed the severe burns and weeks in a burn unit with great pain that caused my fear of doctors which could have caused a fear of other related things... or if it was worsened by a near disaster when a man attempted to hold up my family as an older child... or maybe it was the woods around our house that always felt creepy with the unknown.

Truthfully, I don't think it was any of those things, I think I just am not someone who likes the dark, the creepy, or anything in a white coat. Though I'm sure some of those things had impact along the way. But I do love Halloween, as a time not to be scared but to transform into something fun, when you can greet neighbors and eat candy, and be someone other than your ordinary. As a friend said, "We celebrate candy and fun!"

While I've never really understood some people's fascination with gore and fear, I understand it even less now than ever. Do they not know that there is real terror in the world on a daily basis and while they can they should focus on the good? Do they have so little trouble of their own that they want to imagine the worst? Or maybe being scared simply reminds them that what they face is not as terrifying as what could be.

But for us and so many families with a missing loved one, we have enough fear. We've faced them down and proven brave enough to look for answers no matter what they may be. We have enough gore, with possible scenarios for some that are worse than any movie they've seen. We have enough suspense, never knowing what a day may hold with news we've been waiting for over years.

So we'll celebrate the fun.

Life is short. Stay awake.

2011-10-15T07:35:00.001-04:00

My delicious latte is in a cup with the question 'what do you stay awake for?' with answers all over it. Some are cute, like "socks, fresh from the dryer" and some are very sweet such as "the pitter patter of little feet as the sun rises."

This morning my real answer is a good one- I'm kept awake (barely!) by the desire to get home from a quick trip in time to catch some of my son's baseball game. When it starts I'll be in the air, but will get to the game as fast as possible after I land. Then I'll go home and sleep.

I like those real answers on the cup, those that answered more honestly than dreamily. Dreamy answers are good too, but sometimes a bit cheesy for my taste. Does Hilda G. really stay awake "to end breast cancer-- worldwide" or is that something she cares about and puts a bit of time and energy into, but truly just what's left over after everything else?

I'm a bit harsh, fully realizing I have no idea about Hilda G. She may wake up every morning with a passion she puts into action. Or she may be a bit more like me and want to do that, but instead sometimes just be kept awake because she has no choice.

I'd like to be able to honestly answer "to find Austin" or "to reach people with a message of hope" but while I am passionate about those things, some days I just want to stay (or go) to sleep. And some days I just want to be a mom enjoying a baseball game.

I think that is part of the message of hope though- that you don't have to have all the right answers. You don't always have to do the right things. You're still loved and treasured. And some days you'll wake up and be ready to change the world. But somedays you'll just want to pull the covers back over your head.

**special thanks to my caribou coffee that is hot and delish and provided inspiration for a post. seriously, what more could you want from a cup of coffee?!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Solution vs. Mixture

2011-10-12T17:19:00.000-04:00

Last night Drew was telling me about what he's been learning in school, in his new favorite subject, science. I loved the enthusiasm in his voice, as he asked if I knew the difference between a mixture and a solution. He started to tell me, but thought that a much better idea was to make an example of each at home, so he could do more than just tell us, but could show us. I thought maybe they had been doing experiments in class to help them fully grasp it, but that wasn't the case, he just wanted to demonstrate it to us in a fun way. Great idea!

He pulled out the chocolate powder and the milk, and began to stir them together, explaining that as the powder dissolves into the milk, they become one and can't be separated back out.

He then took a few crackers and a chip and put them together, explaining that this was a mixture because they each maintained their identity and could be separated out again.

I started thinking about how a) smart my child is and b) how cool it is when the relationships we have are solutions, not mixtures. Real relationships are those where you can't just separate the people, but where lives have come together as a solution. The best parts of each are combined, and together you can be better than you were apart.

Sometimes can certainly be more than just people also. A mixture involving you and God has little power. A solution where God can no longer be separated from you, where He is a part of you, that has power.

I'm so thankful for people in my life who love me enough to be part of my solution, and a God who loves me to be a main ingredient that holds the solution together. And for a child who is excited about learning and sharing and is demonstrated true solutions daily through people who love him.

Just Do It

2011-10-04T10:13:00.002-04:00

We all remember the Nike slogan, Just Do It. If you don't remember, then you're too young for me to be okay with, so just pretend. It was such a genius slogan, one that still is quoted regularly. And about so many things, from sports to business to life in general.

I don't actually think to myself 'Just Do It' when faced with challenges, but it is what most of us do. I'm surrounded by people who are dealing with issues that they never would have thought they could handle, would never have wanted to handle. Things such as the loss of a child, the loss of health, sometimes even the loss of dreams. But they get up in the morning, and they face them. They just do it. With the 'it' sometimes being as simple as getting up and getting dressed when they want to stay under the covers and pretend another day hasn't come. The 'it' is sometimes as monumental as holding a loved ones hand in their last days and hours.

I'm amazed by what the human spirit can survive, and even thrive through. God made us in an awesome way, able to do things we never would want to. He gives us the strength and the courage to just do it. And He gives us the friends and support we need when we can't.

Today, whatever you face, know that with Him, all things are possible. (Philippians 4:13)

Days of Blah

2011-09-29T22:37:00.000-04:00

I haven't posted much recently, and I don't even have a good reason, except that I've been blah. I've been going through the motions of life, getting through to the next day, the next weekend, the next project. I haven't been enjoying much of it, but haven't been particularly not enjoying it either. I've just been blah.

A lot of it has to do with it being the week of my birthday, and feeling like I've passed all the big milestones in life. And as much as I love where we are in our lives right now, it feels like so much of the same ahead, with no goals to work towards or big things ahead. And the grind of this great life is exhausting, with no slowdown in sight, and wondering if there will ever be time to rest. But I remind myself, that being in a good place and having much more of the same isn't a bad thing, even when it's not perfect. And you know, things are never boring, there is always something around the corner to turn life upside down.

So for today, I'm going to be thankful for blah. Thankful for no world rocking news or stresses. Those will come soon enough.

Walking on a Moving Sidewalk

2011-09-13T19:29:00.001-04:00

People watching is a sport. Trying to not be mean while people watching is a challenge. But in airports, most people have the same end goal and it's interesting to see how different ones approach it.

Some people walk at their own pace never using the moving sidewalks.

Some people get on the moving sidewalks and stand.

Some people get on the moving sidewalk and keep walking.

I was thinking about those three groups as I walked the moving sidewalk. I wasn't in a hurry to get to a gate, just can't imagine not getting where I'm going the quickest way possible.

It seems a lot like how we approach life. Some of us go about it our own way, wanting no help, relying on ourselves and only calling out to God when broken. Some like to ask God to take us where we want to go, getting on the path then waiting. And then there's those who ask for his help and start moving on their own as well.

I thought for a few moments, that walking down the moving sidewalk, or combining action with prayer, was the way to go. I was thinking about how I try to always do that, though often I'm walking before the praying. See, I was getting there faster than the people walking beside or standing on the moving sidewalk. I was doing pretty good.

But then, a cart zoomed by me with passengers who had asked for help and taken a ride. They weren't in control of the cart, but knew they'd get where they needed to go. Maybe that's how we really should be with God. Not driving ourselves, but asking for help and relying on him completely.

I prefer the moving sidewalk, but I'm thinking more about that cart...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Growing through Crisis

2011-09-12T12:13:00.000-04:00

Ten years ago our nation was in crisis, a crisis greater than we had seen in our generation. It's the type of thing that makes us think back to the exact place and time when we learned that our world was forever changed. But on a personal level, we were already in a bit of crisis. Michael and I had just married and been stationed in Mississippi. We were just learning the extent of his illness when he was deployed on September 6th. A few days later he was in the hospital yet again, thousands of miles away from me, and watched the horror of the 11th from his hospital bed. It was such an uncertain time, as a portion of his battalion was quickly sent to Afghanistan and we didn't know what was next.

Since then we've faced more crisis, including more health issues than I could have imagined, times of financial struggle, loss of loved ones, and the constant struggle of the search for Austin.

Sometimes we ask where God is in the midst of such crisis. I was reminded yesterday of a verse that speaks so much. Romans 8:28 says "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, whohave been called according to his purpose" I have to also be reminded though, that what I see as good isn't the same as what God does. I see it from a selfish standpoint. God sees the whole picture, of both my life and the world. For me the key is that in all things God works. He doesn't sit idly by. He is working, moving, shaping. He is there.

It is in times of crisis that we allow God in, that we allow His work to be most seen. And it is through crisis that the most growth and change can occur. None of us want it. We would all let it pass us by. But yet, it comes. And for those who let themselves see God work, and experience His love, we grow.

I'm amazed by people around us who continue to face crisis with strength. I think it's because they have had so much opportunity to grow and have God work. Imagine a life with no challenge, a life with no crisis. There can be little growth. Same for our country, our churches and our families. Through much pain comes much greatness.

Today we are stronger as a nation, and we're stronger as a family. I don't know what tomorrow holds, but I have to assume it won't be any easier, but at least I'll be stronger.

It's No Marathon

2011-09-07T22:47:00.001-04:00

I. am. tired. It's been a long few days. But I'm boarding a plane, that will take me to another plane, that will take me to another plane, that will take me home. And then I'll rest. So I can get through the next 11 hours, thinking about that.

I wish I could see the place and time of rest ahead in other aspects of my life. I see no end to Michael's battle with CVS, though there is hope of a breakthrough one day or a medication that helps. I see no end to our search for Austin, though there is hope of a search with results or maybe even a call with his voice one day.

I sometimes wish Michael had an illness with more risk but more possibility of cure. I sometimes wish we could have a funeral for Austin, with not the answers we wanted but answers regardless.

I think it's one of the hardest parts of having a missing loved one, that there's no rest in sight. This isn't a sprint, isn't even a marathon- you know how long a marathon is- it's long, but it does end. For some of us, our search will never end and we'll never find that time of rest here on earth.

But there's always hope. It may not be forever, it may end tomorrow. Or we may be on the first leg of a long trip, one that takes us to another point, that gets us closer to yet another point, that eventually gets us there.

But you can't get there unless you start moving.... time to move.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Labor Day Blues

2011-09-06T09:01:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was a holiday, the end to a much anticipated long weekend. A planned beach day, a fun day. But yet again we found ourselves in a familiar spot, the emergency room.

Michael's chronic health issues have an impact on almost everything we do as a family. He avoids triggers during rough times and starts treating early. I know the cues and know how to manage his care the best possible. I should have a honorary nursing degree. After twelve years, it's not something that's okay but it's something we manage.

I sometimes get concerned that our boys have to manage more than they should, that Drew must know too much about bad days and how to help when needed. But he also knows that dad always gets better and always comes home. He's learning that though some days are bad, life can still be good.

He has to learn that lesson with a missing uncle and with an often sick dad. But we face both the same way, with honesty on a level he understands and lots of communication. Just like we need to let him know it's okay to be sad and miss someone, it's also okay to get tired and pray for change to the situation.

But it's not okay to let it be an excuse. It's not okay to believe every day will be bad. It won't. His dad is a great example of not letting something bad stop him, just working around it. He shows them daily how to persevere and I believe that our boys will grow stronger and be more caring as a result of all they've faced. But I also hope they'll be happy and believe in good days ahead always.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Missing his Uncle

2011-09-04T22:18:00.001-04:00

Drew was just two days past his fourth birthday when we lost Austin. I didn't know what to say to him, didn't even know what to say to myself at that point. Drew loved his uncle, and with Austin living with us, he was used to seeing him daily. He was expecting a fishing trip soon and wondered when they could go.

Early on we decided to be honest with him but on a level he could hopefully understand. It all seemed fun to him in some ways, as family was in town much more than normal and we started spending time in new towns looking. But he knew we were looking for Austin, that he was lost and needed to be found. He would ask people he didn't know to look for "Uncle Austin" and they gladly told him they would.

We tried to keep things somewhat normal. I have a happy memory of the morning we signed Drew up for tball, so looking forward to what was ahead. Drew was so little and so cute and was ready to play. But that same morning we were having a prayer rally across the street from the field at our church for Austin.
So like many days of this journey, we left a sad event for something joyous and back again.

I think through it all, that's how we've helped Drew. We've let him know that we're sad and miss Austin, but also let him know he was safe and loved and had good things ahead. He has asked many times about him, and always said he misses him.

It's now been four years, and our explanations have changes yet remained truthful. Drew now knows that we truly don't know where he is and truly don't know if we'll ever find him. At 8, Drew has now lived longer without Austin than with him. But he remembers him, even tonight saw something that reminded him of Austin and he said he missed him. What sweet joy to be reminded that Austin was loved and is missed, even by someone that I'm not sure truly remembers him.

I don't yet know exactly what we'll tell Ben about the uncle he never knew. But I know we'll make sure he knows the level of truth he can understand, and that he's loved and safe too. And we won't pretend we're not missing part of our family, won't pretend there isn't grief.

And I pray that as they grow, they'll never pretend things are okay when they aren't, but will be able to also find the joy in the midst of any circumstance they face. And if they remember Austin, that would make me smile too.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Selfish Standpoint

2011-09-01T12:27:00.000-04:00

It's common to hear, "walk a mile in their shoes." It's a common thing to say, "I understand."

But we don't.

Too often, we think someone is being selfish, simply because what they are doing isn't about us or isn't what we want them to do. We call them selfish when the reality is this: we define another person's act as selfish, not based on them thinking only about them self, but about us only thinking about our self.

We all do it. We are all sometimes on the other side too, where we're being called selfish. It hurts.

Sometimes we must realize that people act for so many reasons in so many ways that we don't know. They probably have many things going on, the least of which is an intention to hurt you. And sometimes, people must be selfish, thinking about them self over you, or their own family over yours. That doesn't make them bad.

Some hurtful things have been said to (and about) my family this week, but I'm trying to remember that people that know our hearts know our intentions. I'm trying my best to not be selfish and only see if from my perspective. I'm not doing a great job, but I'm trying.

Phillipians2:3-4 Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.

Like a Ball in a Bowl

2011-08-25T17:19:00.000-04:00

I've spent the past two days learning about writing requirements documents, a task that is almost as interesting to me as watching paint dry (though necessary and the training was very beneficial). But there is one thing that jumped out to me more than anything, something I wanted to share.

The trainer (joedemasko.com to give appropriate credit) used an illustration like this. He said that people are like a ball in a bowl, and stressful situations are like pulling that ball up the side. When you let it go, the ball rolls all around in erratic directions before coming to rest. And people are like that ball, always seeking to come back to rest.

I thought that was a pretty good illustration of what happens. I honestly I consider myself a good gauge, as stressful situations and I seem to find each other regularly.

But as I thought through this more, I realized that he missed something. He used the mind of a mathematician to formulate this. But what he missed is the human element of how that ball can behave less erratic, how it can come to rest sooner.

If you were to line that ball with something, the ball would slow sooner. Depending on what you line it with, the results can vary. Line it with felt and you have some impact, line it with thick cotton gauze and you have even more.

Our lives are like that. We all get taken to stressful heights of our bowl. Some events cause drop us from just a small height to recover from. Some drops are so far that the time to return to a calm state is much longer and much more erratic.

But if you line your life, you will recover quicker and with a less erratic path than you would otherwise. But what you line it with determines how much so. Line it with friends? Definitely helps decrease your time back to that state of rest. Line it with friends and love? Even more so. Line it with all of those and faith in a loving God? Now you've got a bowl, or a life, that can withstand even the worst.

The drop will still hurt, but is so much better with a lined life.

Choosing to Believe

2011-08-17T13:08:00.000-04:00

I've never been very good at choosing to believe something without cold hard proof, or some experience of my own that gives me reason to believe. For me it's a choice, not a gut instinct usually. I wish I just went with my gut more often, but I weigh the information just like I do with any decision.

Some things come very easy for me. I believe in God because I've had a personal experience with Him. I believe in love because I've felt it many ways and times. I believe in certain ways of parenting because of research I've done and watching people I respect. I believe in the Gators, because they've won too many championships to ignore.

But sometimes believing isn't easy. Sometimes you have to choose to believe, even though you may be wrong. I've sometimes wondered how people do it, how they seem to stick their heads in the sand. But maybe they're not, maybe they're just choosing to look at a different perspective and different pieces of evidence than others.

Today I'm choosing to look from a different perspective at a few things, and to believe what is a bit tough. I may be proven wrong, but have decided that I'd rather believe than not. I'd rather choose to look at the good than the bad. There's plenty of good and there's plenty of bad in most situations on any given day. I think which you chose to believe says more about you than it does about anything else.

Today, choose to believe.

One Shoelace at a Time

2011-08-16T17:57:00.001-04:00

My little guy (the one more like me than I usually admit) went to his first day of 3rd grade with different colored shoe laces in each shoe, and no one walking him to class. "Mom, I'm not five" is exactly what he said. I hadn't made a comment about the laces, because what do I know about cool? But not walking my son in and taking a photo of him in front of his desk? Come on! You can't really expect a mom to be okay with that.


Watching him walk away

But we must.

We must let them grow, giving them independence in safe and healthy ways. We must let them be their own person, not a miniature version of us (though its scary just how much like us they are). Even when they make decisions that cause them pain. We guide, we love, we teach through it all, but we must let them find their way.

I know more and more about how my parents felt as they raised us, but especially as they still loved and guided Austin towards the end of his time with us. Like what I did with him as a sister, wanting the best for him, but knowing he had to choose his own way, no matter how much pain it brought him or us.

I think that God must feel something like this. Giving us the tools, love and support we need and knowing that he could choose our way. But He lets us. He loves us enough to want us to come to Him out of our own will, not because he forces it.

So I let go, just one shoelace and walk at a time, so that one day Drew is able to make his own wise choices. But I think like today, I'll always be watching closely with my heart in my throat.

**I have to add in here that I have some wonderful friends that demonstrate this all the time and just a few days ago discussed this very topic. It helped me today as I watched him go, so thank you dear friends!

All these people going somewhere...

2011-08-08T09:18:00.001-04:00

I'm headed to Houston, and somehow ended up with two stops to get there. Jacksonville to Charlotte, Charlotte to New Orleans and New Orleans to Houston. Not exactly a direct path.

But I'm here with an army of Monday morning commuters, all scrambling to get somewhere... a client visit, a sales prospect, a training or some other 'gotta get there' locale.

I don't know where I'm headed. I mean, I know where I'm going today. But airports always spark a reminder for me that there are so many yet to be explored places. I see city names and think of what potential might be there, what lies ahead for the people at that gate. And I face the reality that I'm not really headed where I want to be.

I enjoy my job, and love the challenges that come daily. I'm fortunate to have that and I know it.

But yet... I literally fantasize about doing something that truly reaches people. I dream of finding a way to share my story and share hope. Not hope that things will always turn out okay. But real hope, that we are not alone through anything, that God loves us and has a plan for us. That he can use us through the bad we've done or experienced.

Today I'm heading to Houston. But I'm continuing to take one small step at a time to that place I really want to be. And maybe one day I'll be getting on a plane to speak to groups about this message. In the meantime, where I'm at isn't so bad.

Maybe like my indirect route to Houston, I'm just taking a bit longer to get there.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

He didn't have an iPhone...

2011-08-02T14:44:00.000-04:00

This may sound silly, especially with all the things Austin has missed, but this just dawned on me. He never had an iPhone! The reason that strikes me as so odd, is that he was so techie that he would have certainly had one if he'd been around a little bit longer. Austin disappeared on June 26. The first iPhone was released on June 29. Austin had recently gone through a few new phones, always looking for the latest and greatest.

And Facebook... back then, it wasn't used by the masses, mostly just college students. He never experienced the fun of checking in, posting hundreds of photos, poking people, and playing Farmville. And Twitter! Twitter had just been launched, and most of didn't know what a tweet was.

We didn't own one flat screen TV, and hadn't even considered buying one. They were expensive! Now I can't remember how we watched TV without a large flat screen with HD.

I had never been much of a gadget person, but five months before Austin disappeared I started a new position in a software company. For the first time, we had a lot in common in our day to day lives. Though we did very different things in very different companies, it was a common ground. Now over four years later, I'm still with that company and in a much different role. But I think Austin would love knowing what I do, and even laugh at some of the stories I'd tell him if he was here.

And he'd probably be impressed that I now love having the latest and greatest phone.

Like a Brick

2011-07-29T13:49:00.000-04:00

I think most people with a missing loved one adjust over time to the new reality. Some adjust better than others, finding a new purpose and way to express their grief and help others. Some adjust in a destructive way, not allowing themselves to fully participate in the life they still have and love that still remains. But we all adjust and find a new normal over time.

One of the many reasons that someone with a missing loved one can't move on, get over it, or go through all the stages of grief, is that the cycle repeats itself over and over. There are new searches to do, leads to track, people to call, issues to handle.... or sometimes no new leads, no new searches stretching out so that the lack of such is an event in itself.

Sometimes in the midst of that new normal, when you think you're doing okay, something happens to remind you that there is nothing normal about this. A new injury occurs every time, a new need to heal.

With Austin, we've had several of those. The first that I clearly remember was about four months after he disappeared. We missed him, we hurt for his loss, but we really believed we would find him alive, and soon. Then it happened. Our detective called my mom and wanted to meet with her alone to share some news. The had learned that he went to a pawn shop and purchased a shotgun, then went to a store to purchase ammo, and left on foot with the gun in a duffle bag. For most of my family, that ended the belief that we would find him alive. It shifted our efforts and resources. It shifted our world.

A year or so later, we hadn't found him and were reminded at times about the money he had on him that would have gotten him a start out of town if he wanted, that we should still believe that happened. But then another shot. We received a letter from the payroll company his employer used, and learned that the final paycheck, the one that we thought he'd cashed, never was. He had a check for almost $1000 that he never cashed. Clearly another blow to the belief that he chose to go away.

There have been so many others, so many other days where it felt like a brick hitting us in the head with the reality of what we face. The weeks I spent arguing with a bill collector that he really wasn't living with us anymore, that I really wasn't lying to them took a toll. The birthdays missed, the holidays without him. But after each one, we adjust. It takes time, but we again find our way back to a new normal.

Today was a small brick. Nothing monumental. My mom receives emails from one of Austin's old accounts, and today received an email from a recruiter, wanting to talk with him about a position that he seemed to match. It would have been a great position for him. It matched his skills, his qualifications, and sounds like one he would have enjoyed. But he's not here. He's missing out on so many things. So often we think about what we're missing out on, but today I'm reminded that he had so much to look forward to.

Side Note: I love music to help lift a mood. As I finished writing this, one of my very favorite songs was playing. The words ring true to me.

Flood- by Jars of Clay

Rain, rain on my face
It hasn't stopped raining for days
My world is a flood
Slowly I become one with the mud

But if I can't swim after forty days
And my mind is crushed by the thrashing waves
Lift me up so high that I cannot fall
Lift me up
Lift me up - when I'm falling
Lift me up - I'm weak and I'm dying
Lift me up - I need you to hold me
Lift me up - Keep me from drowning again

Downpour on my soul
Splashing in the ocean, I'm losing control
Dark sky all around
I can't feel my feet touching the ground

Calm the storms that drench my eyes
Dry the streams still flowing
Cast down all the waves of sin
And guilt that overthrow me

Lift me up - when I'm falling
Lift me up - I'm weak and I'm dying
Lift me up - I need you to hold me
Lift me up - Keep me from drowning again

Life Isn't Fair....

2011-07-27T13:24:00.000-04:00

Recently Drew has thought a lot of things to be 'not fair' to him. Simple things like not being allowed to have Coke, to having to play with a toy in his room that he doesn't want his brother to get his hands on, to not winning a game against his Dad. I'm not very sympathetic and probably make it worse. But blaming things you do, or don't do, on life not being fair is just childish.

Oh wait...

A friend's name came across my computer earlier and I sulked for a minute about not having talked to them in a while and missing them. We don't talk as often due to changes in their life that were positive, but still left me pouting a bit. As a result, I've been slow to respond and haven't reached out. Because you see, they made the changes, not me, so why do I have to make extra effort... that's just not fair.

It reminded that I'm no less guilty of this than Drew. I don't feel it's fair that my husband is sick as many days as not with no end in sight. I don't think it's fair that I have lost my brother. I don't think it's fair that my husband has siblings that we can't come to a peaceful place with. I don't think it's fair that my sons don't have those aunts and uncles and cousins to know. I think a lot of things aren't fair.

But life isn't fair. If we all had what we thought was fair, well that would be impossible. If I got every job opportunity I wanted it would seem fair to me but not to others who didn't get it. If someone funded a large study to cure my husband's illness that would be fair to us, but seem unfair to those suffering from another illness that isn't well funded.

Things can't be fair to everyone, and we often use that as an excuse to not be faithful. We aren't faithful to what God calls us to do because He gave more to someone else, so they should do it. We aren't faithful to friends (and sometimes family) because they made choices so they should deal with it themselves. We aren't even faithful to ourselves and our potential, because after all life isn't fair and it doesn't matter what I do.

God is always faithful to us, even when it doesn't seem that He's fair. Much like a child sees their parent as unfair when there is good reason that the child can't understand, so is the same with us. Life isn't going to feel fair most days, but when we're faithful it can be even better than we knew..

How Many Days to Raise a Boy?

2011-07-21T17:56:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I was relaxing and holding my ~~sweet~~ precocious little guy while he slept and thinking about how fast the days are flying by us. It seems like just yesterday we were planning for his arrival. Now we're chasing him while he laughs, pulling him off of high places he shouldn't be, and sometimes taking a golf club to the shin in all the fun. And if it seems that the past 19 months have flown by, I look at Drew and can hardly believe that 8 years have gone by. But yet I can't remember life before him.

Then I realize, we're almost half way through the years of Drew at home. We've already had the biggest impact we will on his personality, esteem, values and learning. From here on we're reinforcing what we've taught, intentionally or not. We're closer to the start of this journey with Ben, and I was just thinking that I'm glad for more days to mother and love on him, glad that we're not so near the finish.

My boys and I recently

But I started debating how many years it would be before they were 'raised'. Is it 18 when they're legally adults, or 21 or so when they finish school (I hope) or when they're married and on their own, or...? Maybe it's none of those. Maybe a parent's job is never quite done, because when do you stop needing loving guidance of someone who loves you more than themselves?

Often when a missing person is an adult, the heartbreak and urgency is lost on those not close to them. But to those that love them, they don't need us any less. They may need us less in the physical sense, but that's far from everything.

No matter how old our kids get, we still are teaching them, guiding them, loving on them. We're still pulling them away from danger when we can, and hurting when they hurt. We're still getting hit in the shin so to speak at times. And we're thinking we wouldn't trade it for anything, hurts and all. The older my boys get, the more I understand the mothers who will never give up. The more I understand that their age has nothing to do with it. I think that is part of God's plan too. He didn't tell us to honor our parents when we're young, but our whole lives. A parents love is the closest thing we have here on earth to His love. It never ends.

So how long to raise a boy? I don't think I'll ever be done to find out.

Justice For All

2011-07-06T22:23:00.000-04:00

We just celebrated Independence Day, a time to be thankful for the land we live in, where freedom and justice define us. A land of opportunity, a land of bounty.

While celebrating, the country shifted it's attention to the biggest new story in months, the trial of Casey Anthony. As anyone with TV or internet knows, she was found not guilty and it seemed as though the thread of who we are as a country unraveled in some people's minds. Justice hadn't prevailed. Freedom wasn't deserved.

I first heard about the verdict from someone in my office, who walked in and said "a travesty has occurred in Orlando" and I read reaction from many people on Facebook later. All were outraged. Some at the jury, some at the prosecution, some at our system. Within a short time, groups and pages had formed, with invitations to 'sign the Caylee petition' and 'leave your porch lights on for Caylee' among others. Now I became outraged.

I have to say it. I'm outraged by the numbers of people doing meaningless things in the name of Caylee, even though I know the intentions are good. But I don't believe that leaving a porch light on will help anyone, but will allow people to feel good for a few minutes that they've done something in a situation they feel powerless in. I'm outraged by the media coverage of every minute of this trial, when there are parents of missing children who beg for help and can't get their faces shown. I'm outraged not that someone didn't report their child missing, but that thousands do and nothing is done.

On the other hand, I'm not encouraged by millions of people turning on a porch light, but am by the hundreds who will be out volunteering on a search for someone's missing loved one tomorrow. I'm not encouraged by the person who started a petition to make not reporting a missing child a felony, but by the parents who have lobbied congress for years to pass bills that change how a missing persons case is handled once reported.

Don't get me wrong, Caylee's death was a tragedy and so very sad. But if each person who was so impacted by this case spent just as much time looking at the faces of the missing, we might have a surge of children found. A million porch lights on is nice. One missing child brought home because of the caring hearts of those moved by this case? Now that would be a way to honor Caylee.

Missing Children and Adults in Jacksonville and Ways to Help

Missing Children and Adults Nationwide Listed and Support for Families of Missing

Missing Children and Adults Nationwide Listed and Search Volunteer Needs

Tarnished Hope

2011-06-30T16:19:00.000-04:00

Our mischievous Ben has a new fun place to play- he climbs onto the bathroom counter and gets into anything he can. Yesterday morning as I put him on the ground once again, and surveyed what he had been playing with, this is the mess I saw.

In the last four years, we've used the word 'Hope' a lot, and have reminders all over, including this ornament that I never put away with the Christmas things. I'd honestly forgotten it was there and overlooked it daily. After Ben 'rearranged' things, I saw it there, covered by other random things of our lives, with much of the glitter rubbed off and looking a little tarnished.

It immediately struck me how much that is like real hope. We can get so buried by things that our hope is dulled. Maybe we even miss seeing it altogether. It can get buried due to time, feeling unplugged, sweating the small stuff, or just rubbing against rough things over and over. It happens, just like with the ornament.

Then one day, someone rearranges things a bit. You may not have even wanted them to. But there it is, peeking through the mess, reminding you that hope is never lost. God is still there. He still has a plan.

Look in your own mess. Can you still see hope? If not, keep looking. It's there.

The Sisters

2011-06-29T09:30:00.000-04:00

All my life I've seen my mom and her sisters as a strong trio of women, who would stand by each other no matter what. Through the years they've had their disagreements, their differences, and times of wishing other things for each other. They've put many miles between them, and sometimes gone long periods without being face to face. But they've always shown unconditional love, and truly tried to support each other through all the good and bad of life.

When Austin went missing, they were both here right away. When we celebrated his birthday and launch of Finder's Hope the next year, they were there. They've shown me the same love and support that they show each other.

On one particular occasion, I was actually upset by their display of love and support. All I could think was that I no longer had my brother to share life with, wouldn't have his support and love many years from now. It didn't seem fair as I looked at them thinking that together they could conquer anything. But on that same occasion, they shared with the group about their 4th sister, the one no longer there. JoAnn was the youngest of the four, and the next to youngest of the six kids (did I not mention they also have two brothers?) and was lost tragically in an accident as a teenager.

I realized, that though she's not with them conquering the world, she's always in their heart and on their mind. They never forget that they aren't three but four. All they've been through, including losing her, combined with their faith, is so much of what makes them strong.

I may not have a sister, or any sibling to support me the way they do for each other. But I do have them and I do have Austin with me in heart and memory, even if not here himself. Like they have grown in strength from all their losses, here's praying that so may I. That I may one day be able to conquer the world too.

4 Years of Missing Austin

2011-06-26T08:59:00.001-04:00

A new home, a new baby, a child growing up, ten tball seasons, Michael finding his funny stage voice, so many holidays, a new president, a much loved uncle dying, family get-togethers, the iPad....

Austin has been gone for four years today. Exactly four hears ago this morning, he made choices that would impact us all forever. He took a cab to a pawn shop and bought a shotgun. He went to Walmart and bought ammo and a duffel bag, then back to get the gun. He walked off, never to be seen or heard from again.

Those things listed above? Just a few of the many things he's missed that our family or our world has had happen. What have we missed? Just him. Having him be a part of it all. We miss the son, brother, uncle. We miss what was and what might have been.

Today it seems we're no closer to finding him, but we still will keep hope. We will remember him today, sad for all he's missed but happy and grateful for all we did share.

Birthdays, holidays, his laugh, smiles full of dimples, help with our tech needs, days fishing with family, running through the woods, his easygoing nature, food cooked with love, laughing together at things we couldn't change, watching him with my son, love for our family....

Those are the things we'll focus on today. Not what is missed, but what wasn't.

Love you Austin.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Saying Goodbye

2011-06-16T20:03:00.001-04:00

We aren't very good at saying goodbye, or even knowing when it's time to. Our family is facing that right now with my Grandmother, and at this very moment critical decisions are being made. Just a few nights ago she had two strokes, and the night after a seizure. She is responsive and has made it very clear, both through a living will years ago, and comments in the past few days, that she wants to be allowed to die naturally.

But right now she can breathe on her own, pump blood on her own, but is having difficulty swallowing. Due to that, the doctors wanted to place a feeding tube to give nutrition and medication, and though she didn't want to, agreed to it with the promise that it wouldn't stay long. After just a few hours, she pulled it out on her own and doesn't want it back in. But her children, my mom and her siblings, are having a hard time agreeing to that. After all, she could regain all needed functions with therapy, or at least have a good shot at it.

But she is exhausted and ready. Her wishes must be honored. I can't help but think that if she could see past the exhaustion and depression that comes with a seizure, she'd want to live more life. Austin was exhausted, but we didn't get to take part in the decision for him. We didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. We wouldn't have said goodbye though, we would have stopped him. I hope my mom and my aunts and uncles and other family gathered around her can find a way to say goodbye when the choice has been made.

Goodbye's are awful, but I've learned that they're better than never getting a goodbye.

If There Were No Valleys

2011-06-14T18:32:00.000-04:00

I'd like to write a post about how much better today was than yesterday, some lesson about how a new day brought a new perspective. In a way that was true, as Michael actually went 12 hours in a deep sleep with no shower or vomiting (shower= even better than meds when he's sick). We thought he was turning the corner on this episode. I even got a few hours sleep, even if it was in a chair. But that's a lot better than the night before.

Instead, a new day brought news of my grandmother suffering two strokes in the night. And my mom, who has been watching the boys while I focus on Michael, needed to go be with her. But to add to the struggle, her car needed work that she can't really afford, leaving means taking yet another unpaid day (or more) off work, and of course there was the matter of figuring out how to get my boys taken care of. I reached out to friends to help solve the matter of the boys, and as I knew they would, faithful friends took that burden away. There was still the puzzle to figure out of who would take them when, and what they needed, and where they needed to be, but there's no question of them being taken care of and loved on. My mom's car/financial situation didn't magically resolve itself, and as I write the work still isn't done and she hasn't been able to leave yet. But God will provide, I do believe that.

Reaching out and asking for help isn't in my comfort zone. It's a phobia to tell the truth. But I know that I can't do it alone, and I miss out on so much when I don't get pushed out of what's easy. With our search for Austin and our battle with Michael's illness, I spend more time asking for help than I'd ever choose to.

But I can tell you this... if I didn't face these valleys I'd never know the full gratitude of love and friendship. I would miss the chance to be encouraged by a text, phone call or email that just checks in. I'd miss a cup of coffee being delivered that wasn't even asked for but much needed, that warmed more than just my hands. My kids would miss the chance to know that they can count on others too, that this life is meant to be lived together. They might grow up thinking church is a place we go, instead of the people who live it.

I'm not crazy, if given the chance I'd skip the valleys. But since we're here, might as well look around and enjoy the view. I couldn't ask for more.

Room 533

2011-06-13T23:55:00.000-04:00

It's a rough week in our house, with Michael in the hospital as a result of a CVS episode that is kicking his butt. We've battled this for a very long time, with the first episodes just before we met. At the time we knew so little, and had no idea how many years, hospitalizations and tests he would endure. Like just about anything else, I think our whole family battles it.

the good stuff

I've become as much of an expert on his treatment and illness as possible, his voice and his reminder when he's pushing himself too hard. Our kids know that Dad gets sick a lot and his hot baths and our frequent quick escapes from dinners out are part of their routine. My mom picks up the slack when he needs to rest, and especially when he's in the hospital. As tough as it is for us, it's unimaginable for him. And when we're in the midst of it, I can't even believe the world keeps moving outside our hospital window, keeps going without us.

It's so much like our search for Austin, where we spent the early days not seeing how the world could keep moving, how we would keep moving. But we each did our part. In both, some days feel like giving up is the way to go.

But we have to keep battling, have to keep finding real hope in each day. I sometimes wonder what God has planned for us, when we have so many situations where hope can be hard to find, with so many days of exhaustion and heartache from it all. Some days are overwhelming. Today is one of them.

But I still know where my hope lies, not in the outcome but in God being there no matter. Knowing that God can use even us, even this. That is hope.

Tonight I just needed the reminder.

Little Brother Complex

2011-06-09T18:55:00.002-04:00

I was officially diagnosed years ago with little brother complex. No, you won't find it in any medical journals. Yes, it was a self diagnosis. It also started many years before I lost my brother.

What is it you ask? LBC is an innate desire to take young men under my wing and care for them in my own unique way. I blame the strong male presence in my life, from cousins to friends to co-workers to my own actual brother. I always had more males around me growing up, and that shaped a lot of my humor, preferences and personality. I feel like I can take the female perspective, along with that my unique understanding of the male mind, and help them out. They don't have to be younger than me, just have to be someone I've come to care for like I do my little brother.

It's possible... okay, it's definitely true that my caring can sometimes seem rough. I give them tough love, with real honesty and often on topics they'd rather not hear from me on. From relationships to health to schooling and careers. I want the best for them you see.

For a time I think I backed off from offering this tough love.... it didn't exactly work out for me to help my own real little brother, though I certainly tried. But last night someone made me really laugh with his response to my (inappropriate) advice and called me a life coach.

While I'd love to have that kind of influence, we all do make an impact somehow. I think with Austin my impact was real. I don't believe he ever questioned being loved by me or that he could count on me, even when he chose not to.

One day when my boys no longer think I'm the ultimate authority, I'll be glad if they have people they'll listen to who love them enough to be tough. Hopefully when it matters most.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Little Brother Complex

I Refuse

2011-06-08T13:40:00.002-04:00

I just heard a song that talks about refusing to ignore what God has called us to do. I'm constantly amazed by people around us who have refused to allow us or other families of missing to face this alone. They've refused to allow excuses, troubles, or naysayers get them off their path. They've refused to ignore the need they see around them.

I'm refusing to allow circumstances to keep me from telling our story, from sharing the message of hope that I have. Just needed the reminder, and it came in this perfect way.

What are you being called to do? It may be a small thing or may be huge, but we all should refuse to be so focused on ourselves that we can't see the needs around us. Maybe you needed the reminder too, if so the lyrics below may help.

I Refuse lyrics
Songwriters: Benjamin Glover;Joshua David Wilson

Sometimes I
I just want to close my eyes
And act like everyone's alright
When I know they're not

This world needs God
But it's easier to stand and watch
I could say a prayer and just move on
Like nothing's wrong

But I refuse
'Cause I don't want to live like I don't care
I don't want to say another empty prayer
Oh, I refuse

To sit around and wait for someone else
To do what God has called me to do myself
Oh, I could choose
Not to move but I refuse

I can hear the least of these
Crying out so desperately
And I know we are the hands and feet
Of You, oh God

So, if You say move
It's time for me to follow through
And do what I was made to do
Show them who You are

'Cause I don't want to live like I don't care
I don't want to say another empty prayer
Oh, I refuse

To sit around and wait for someone else
To do what God has called me to do myself
Oh, I could choose
Not to move but I refuse

To stand and watch the weary and lost
Cry out for help
I refuse to turn my back
And try and act like all is well

I refuse to stay unchanged
To wait another day, to die to myself
I refuse to make one more excuse

'Cause I don't want to live like I don't care
I don't want to say another empty prayer
Oh, I refuse

To sit around and wait for someone else
To do what God has called me to do myself
Oh, I could choose
Not to move but I refuse

I refuse
I refuse

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:I Refuse

Friends In the Woods

2011-06-07T13:52:00.000-04:00

Growing up, we lived on a few acres at the end of a dirt road, bordered on two sides with woods. Austin and I made fast and forever friends with the kids who shared another side and had even more property.. We spent countless hours exploring those woods, always in a pack and always finding something to get into. They really weren't that dense or deep, but we had such a sense of independence in being able to roam.

Years later, Michael and I bought our first house in a small neighborhood not too far from where I grew up. Just about a week before Austin disappeared, he found himself depressed and unable to settle down in the house for the night, needing some space and time to wander. He cut through a neighbor's yard and out into the woods, wandering much of the night, even though the pain in his knees grew with each step. I had been alerted to his mental state by a friend, and I worried but had no idea what was coming. When asked about what was going on after finally coming in, he insisted he was okay and had just needed some time. A few days later, he again insisted the same to my mom when she came to visit, and after hours of conversation with him, she also didn't know how serious it was or what was to come.

The morning after we realized Austin was missing and the report had been filed, those woods were walked and searched by several people who had no formal training, but were driven to find him. I'll never forget my Dad searching ceaselessly, and worrying that he couldn't withstand much more of the heat and terrain with his breathing difficulties. But he wouldn't stop until he felt he had covered it all. I was so worried about him holding up for what might take days or weeks. I had no idea it would be years.

There were more woods in that area than I ever could have imagined. We had no idea what needed to be covered, so we traversed it all the best we could. We called in volunteers and friends, had family drive hours to help (time after time) and kept at it. But we couldn't believe how many square miles of woods were around us, the aerial maps astounded us. What was also hard to believe were the numbers of people living in them. There were whole families, young kids to elderly people, all making their home right there. They were off the beaten path, and out of the public eye, so easily overlooked or forgotten. They were mostly kind, mostly offering hope that he would be found.

The sheer amount of woods and the people living there made such an impression on everyone involved. How could we live right there all along and not really see what was there?

But what I'll never forget about those early days, more than anything else, were the friends in the woods. Each of us had friends involved, and I'll forever be grateful to them all. But the ones that stand out to me the most are the friends who never knew Austin, yet quietly and without being asked went into the woods. I am rarely caught without words. However, I'll always remember when I heard about a group of five ladies who ventured into the woods together to help. They weren't asked. They didn't want to be thanked. They faced fears of spiders and snakes, got dirty and scratched. They gave me hope. Several months later, another friend casually mentioned that he felt sure Austin wasn't in a specific area because he had been searching there. I looked down as he spoke and realized that his arms were covered in scratches that were quite bad. He had not been asked, and didn't want to be thanked. He gave me hope. I had no words to thank any of them then, and barely do today.

As a kid, the woods were magical but as an adult they've become a place of learning. Learning about Austin's last days, learning about seeing what's around us, and most importantly about how real friends will go anywhere, even in the woods.

No Complaints

2011-06-02T16:54:00.001-04:00

No complaining unless you have possible solutions to offer. That statement jumped out at me like it was a neon flashing sign. I was sitting in a cold room, trying not to cough incessantly and get more awake. But that statement by the speaker made me immediately think of so many people we've met in the missing person community.

We've met mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, spouses, grandparents and friends. All ages, races, socioeconomic groups, religions.... all are impacted by missing people in their lives. But it dawned on me this morning that I've very rarely heard these people complain.

They could complain about their bad luck, their lost days, the choices made by others that put them here, law enforcement needing to be pushed, too little media, too little help, or so many other things. But they rarely do. The people we've met won't take the focus away from their loved one and put it on their own problems.

Instead, they make solutions. They bring resources in on their own for searches when police won't or can't. They hold car washes and yard sales to raise funds. They seek out other families many states away for support they can't find local. They spend many hours researching and learning new tactics. They go places they shouldn't. They choose to celebrate holidays, even when there is a hole. They love those still here.

When they must complain, it always seems to be in an effort to push forward. These are people who take their complaints and turn them into law changes that effect us all. They train to search to bring hope to families. They advocate for those who can't speak for themselves. They hold hands and offer hugs to those dealing with the first days of a search.

They encourage and inspire me daily. Yet I still complain about traffic and coffee and another hundred things that don't matter. What if we all truly lived the no complaining rule? Wow, what could happen.

(www.jongordon.com for info on the speaker that inspired this post. You can also find Jon on Facebook and Twitter)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Letter to Myself

2011-06-01T14:33:00.001-04:00

A few days ago I saw an old photo of a group of my friends from high school. We were young and more beautiful than we knew, so full of potential and ready to take on the world. I commented that we were really something, and was reminded that we're really something now too. Years later, these are now women that I respect and admire. Both for things they've accomplished and the way they live their lives.

I looked at myself and wondered what I'd have said if I knew what the next 15 years or so would hold. I probably would have been scared and excited all at once, and in some disbelief of it all. But here are some things I would say to that girl.

Be courageous, you have nothing to fear.

College will teach you so much more than you'll learn in class. Get out there and experience it. A little more studying wouldn't hurt you either.

You're not fat.

You'll meet many guys, and you'll learn from them what you want and don't want in a spouse. Heartbreak will help you find the right one.

Fight for what's right as soon as you know its right. But don't worry, you'll soon get pushed into it and you'll be fine.

Enjoy that time before kids a bit more, quiet doesn't come again for many years.

You'll learn a lot about medicine and advocating for good care by being thrown into the fire. Toughen up- it's hard but worth it.

Ask more questions, invade personal space a bit more, and open up yourself. Fear of rejection is no way to live. The phone won't kill you.

Stop. Breathe. Enjoy.

Go home at 5 sometimes.

Hug your Dad more. You don't have to agree on anything but loving each other. That's enough.

Push Austin. It might not have helped, but don't give up. You'll have less regret and guilt, and you already have enough.

Enjoy that last movie with Austin, and don't drive straight home. Find a way to spend a few more minutes.

Just keep trusting God, He won't let you fall.

Look around at your friends. Some will be gone, some will become close again one day, some will come later and become family, while some will seemingly disappear once Austin does. You'll learn from them all.

You're stronger than you think. You'll survive more than you think you can handle, and you'll do more than just survive.

..... Now that I think about it, I should probably remind grown me of these same things.....funny how our younger self and our older self are so much the same, maybe just a stronger version. At least I hope so.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Oh the places you'll go....

2011-05-27T17:40:00.000-04:00

Many wild experiences have been had during our search for Austin, some that prove we'll do anything to find him, and this one that just may well prove that we're crazy. I will start off by saying it was all my mom's fault... well, it was her idea anyway.

A few months into Austin being gone, there had been possible sightings of him in a town near Gainesville. His photo had run in their small town paper and created a lot of buzz, and I believe, a lot of false sightings. But we had to follow them, had to look. We spent a lot of time there, staking out locations, searching state parks, and talking to anyone we saw.

One day, a call came in from a man who thought he might have seen Austin. Though he wasn't involved in drugs himself (so he said), he did do car repair work for some people who were known to, and he thought he might have seen Austin at one of these houses. He suggested that though we shouldn't visit any of these places ourselves, that if we really wanted to see if he was there, he would go with us. After all, he had kids and couldn't imagine one being missing, and he really wanted to help. Uh huh. Mom knew that this was probably a bad idea, potentially a really bad idea. But when your son is missing, you'll go anywhere. And when your mom will go anywhere, I guess you go with her.

Mom and I, along with a friend of Austin's and a guy she knew, left about 10pm. We took two vehicles, and went to the man's house, arriving about 11pm. We decided that a few people would go in the car that he would be riding in, and one would stay in another car a bit away to monitor what was happening and be available by cell. So we loaded up, and off we went. He seemed nice, and as he got in the car my mom was driving, he chatted about where we were, why he knew these people.... oh, and that we shouldn't go in and he'd be glad to but they'd be suspicious if he didn't have some money on him. So we gave him a bit of cash, pictures of Austin and set off. You wouldn't imagine how many of these sorts of houses exist in a small town. It blew me away. A few houses were dark and seemed empty, but a knock on the door would reveal someone rough looking who would look at Austin's photo and invite our 'friend' inside for a moment. I'm sure it was just for better light to look at his photo. A few seemed like party houses, with music and people milling about. I was terrified at one house when someone approached the car and asked what we needed. But mom calmly replied that someone was inside for what we needed and we'd be leaving in a minute. At each place we went, he did show the photo to every person around. We saw lots of heads shaking no, some looking at us with sad eyes. I wondered if any of them had someone searching for their faces in a crowd, or even in a drug house somewhere. Even if they weren't missing, someone somewhere was hurting for them for the life they were leading.

The night ended uneventful, with us never knowing what happened to the cash, and our friend never offering answers. He did follow through with what he said he would, taking us into places we couldn't have gone otherwise, and showing everyone he saw Austin's face. He kept some fliers and said he'd show more people, and you know, I think he probably did.

It wasn't our smartest move, and it could have ended badly. But desperate people do desperate things, and I'd do it again. Austin would have told us we were crazy, and he'd be right. But I'm pretty sure if I was the one gone, crazy or stupid wouldn't have stopped him either.

Some Days Suck

2011-05-25T13:26:00.001-04:00

My post title today isn't very proper sounding, isn't very creative, and almost makes me cringe. But the thing is, some days just do suck. Today is one of those days. I'm facing challenges at work that seem insurmountable, I have a bad headache, and I just want to curl up in a blanket. Home has been stressful too, with a crazy schedule and lack of time to connect.

I try to be positive all the time, but some days just require realizing that life can be tough. But the key is.... I KNOW it will get better. I KNOW that I'll get past this and that there will always be rough days, but there will also be days that are amazing and they'll outweigh the bad. Today isn't a happy day, but today is a day I still have joy, because that isn't based on circumstances but on a faith that God is good no matter.

Austin lost his joy. But I hope that today, each of you reading this remembers that you have reason to have joy even if today sucks. Tomorrow is another day.

The Fun One

2011-05-20T22:48:00.001-04:00

Not too long ago I wrote about Austin being 'The Bad One' But I've also come to the conclusion that he was also 'The Fun One' of us. I say this laughing, because I have fun. I truly enjoy life, relish adventures, and laugh a lot. Just like Austin did.

But.... he wouldn't have gone to bed at 11pm, while others were just starting their night (like I did last night). He would have stories to tell this morning, other than how comfortable the hotel bed was (but it really was). He wouldn't have considered sitting in the hotel lobby for four hours because the Skyway system might be too easy to get lost in (which it was). He would have just jumped in, though in his own relaxed way.

I'm thankful for my friends who I feel safe enough with to always have fun, and for my mom who always pushed me to live a little (though still doesn't like me traveling alone), and a husband and kids that never let me forget that being with them is the best fun.

Over the years I've figured out how to not let so much get in the way of doing things I find fun. But mostly the change is being okay with my ideas of fun, and being okay with doing my own thing. But still.... Austin really was the fun one, so I guess fun and bad are sometimes the same.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Flying Away

2011-05-18T10:53:00.001-04:00

I'm on an airplane, headed to a work event and a quick visit with family in a city I've never been to. Four days away, missing my family but eating good food, sleeping all night in a nice hotel, and visiting family I rarely see. The nicest thing about traveling, either for work or for fun, is the escape. For a few days I have a reason to not check my blackberry incessantly, have a good excuse to not do things I wouldn't have had time for anyhow, and have a few hours where there is really nothing productive I can do. I'd much prefer my travels to be with my family, but since the trip is a must I'll still take the good that comes with it.

We all need an escape sometimes, a chance to break out of our normal daily routines and experience something different. That may be a chance to relax, or it may just be a different place with new sights to see. My travels don't take me very far, but it's nice to daydream about flying off to distant lands where escape is very real. Sometimes I think I'd love to escape to one of those lands, just me and my guys, and never return.

I don't know what type of escape Austin was truly looking for, though I believe it was a permanent escape from this life he sought. I believe he saw it as his only escape from pain. Maybe if he'd had insurance and could have found relief from the physical pain, he could have dealt with the emotional better. Maybe if he could have just found his own escape he could have gotten through another day and then another. He did escape and 'fly away', that much we do know. He either flew into God's arms or flew from his life into another.

The thing is, Austin couldn't see past his pain that the best part of flying away is that one day soon you'll be flying home. I've barely left, yet I'm already looking forward to coming home to hugs and kisses and the comfort of home. Maybe one day he will too.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Wiped Clean

2011-05-13T17:21:00.000-04:00

Last week I had a computer crash that required me to wipe the computer clean and reinstall everything. Fortunately, I saw it coming and was able to back up critical files that hadn't been saved to the network. Even then, it took most of three work days to get back to fully functioning and caused quite a few headaches. Paths to things I need had to be reestablished, all programs had to be reinstalled and possibly most annoying, I lost all my website favorites. Working for a web based software company, virtually everything I use was saved as a favorite. Things still take longer to accomplish than they did before.

As I dealt with that, I couldn't help but think of how similar that computer seemed to Austin, and how reestablishing everything and recreating all favorites reminded me of our family and what we've gone through.

Some days it just seems like Austin was wiped from the face of the earth. We knew he was having trouble, we prayed a 'crash' wouldn't happen, and we tried to provide 'backup' in the way of love and support. But much like my computer, we didn't keep the crash from happening. I don't think we could have, though we still all play those questions out regularly. It's been almost four years, and so little of him remains but our memories. Those who loved him remember him, and those who love us remember that he's gone and miss him for us. But it's still a small number, and even friends of his who cared at some point haven't asked in ages. I wonder if they even remember.

As for us... we had to learn what life was like after. Learn how to find our way in this altered world. We needed to learn how to search, how to work with law enforcement and media, how to make people remember. We eventually found our way back to enjoying most of our favorite things in life. But we re-prioritized and made room for new favorites. Those now include people and things we didn't even know of before 'the crash'- like others with a missing loved one who had been in our shoes, search organizations who continue to provide help, and friends who stepped up more than we could ask. We also realized that some things installed in our lives weren't as important as we thought, and left them wiped away.

It still is hard to know that he is wiped from some minds. My own sons won't remember but by stories we tell (one of the reasons for the blog). But I'm reminded and encouraged by the knowledge that there are many who remember, and above all, God knows him, loves him, and has him in his hands no matter where he is.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

The Littlest Tballer

2011-05-10T17:30:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time there was a tball player so small and cute, that even the parents of the other teams wanted to see him score. He had lots of fun, smiled a lot, and was pretty tough. Even when getting hit by the a pitch from the coach and breaking a finger, he kept on playing. He was never the tallest, never the fastest, but he gave it his all and turned into a pretty good player. That was Austin, circa 1986.

Fast forward 20 years or so, when Drew started playing tball. It was just a few weeks after Austin went missing that Drew went to his first practice. He was so little, and so cute. I'll never forget one coach trying to teach the young kids (and Drew was the youngest) about the bases. He took them around, yelling out the base then asked each kid to repeat it back. When they got to home plate, he yelled "This is home plate! Drew, what is this?" and Drew yelled back, "I don't know!" The coach repeated his part, but Drew yet again yelled "I don't know!" and again the scene repeated a third time. A memory was made. Drew also repeatedly called "Time!" when he was in the catcher spot to ask for a hot dog, and that same great coach nicknamed him "Big Dog" which he loved.

Austin never did get to see Drew play, or cheer him on. I'm positive he would have laughed at the antics of Drew, who was definitely the littlest tball player in the league his first two years. I know Drew would have loved to have another person cheering him on, congratulating him for big plays, but he would have especially liked to have his Uncle Austin there. And so would we. I can't quite fathom, that as we come to the end of Drew's time in tball, that Austin missed it all. That in the four years of watching Drew grow and mature, watching him go from the little boy who didn't know what home plate was, to the kid making game winning catches at first base, that Austin wasn't there for a moment of it.

I'm sad some days for Drew, that he didn't get to have that. But I know he has plenty of people around who do cheer him on and do love him. I hope Austin does too, wherever he is.

Duplicity

2011-05-09T13:50:00.000-04:00

We all do it to some extent.... shield portions of our lives from people, hide our feelings so we can continue on without dealing with them, compartmentalizing portions of ourselves. It makes you wonder, if you look closely, if anyone truly knows all of who we are. I do it a lot. This blog is making that collapse to some extent, and though it was a conscious decision, it's still tough to become so open and honest.

In the days after Austin was first gone, though the world felt off balance, I still had a job to go to, a child to take care of, roles at church to fill, and a home to maintain. I shared what was going on with those closest, but really believed we'd find him soon and didn't want to embarrass him, or concern people more than 'necessary' if possible. So I told those I had to tell, and kept most of it inside. We started catching some media breaks and soon word was out, once our faces and his face was on the news asking for help. But yet I downplayed it, and tried not to ask friends for help, though many stepped forward regardless. But yet I continued to say "I'm fine" and go on about my days. I never even took a day off from work. My mom was also trying to work remotely, displaced from her home to be near where Austin last was. I would come home in the evenings and she would finish whatever project she was on (often work, often search related things) and we'd start putting out fliers, drive through areas Austin frequented, or even drive to nearby towns of possible sightings. The whole time, my husband was also working and picking up the slack with our son and home.

As there have been less and less things we could do on a daily basis to search for Austin, my mention of him has been less and less. What do I say? I don't exactly feel like I should tell random people I meet, or even people who become friends about this part of our life. I don't want to be pitied, I don't want to have to share my feelings, and I most certainly would never risk someone seeing me cry.

But wait.... isn't that what I wish Austin would have done? I wish he had told us, been willing to open himself up to sharing what was going on in his life. His fears, his pains, his whole life, not just the portions that sounded nice and he thought we wanted to hear.

I'll probably never be the person who cries in public, or gets past the habit of answering "great" to the polite questions always asked about how we're doing. But I do want to be the person who can open up and share her thoughts and feelings here, getting one step closer to being real. That's what God challenges us, to live life together in community, to be real with each other. I'm thankful for a relatively small group of people that I have been real with, people who sometimes push me there even when I don't want to.

I wish Austin had felt like he had that.

Tribute for a Mom

2011-05-06T08:27:00.001-04:00

This Mother's Day I'll be eating breakfast my guys cook and wearing a fancy hat to church. This Mother's Day my mom will eat in a camper and test her search skills.This Mother's Day I'll have sweet hugs from my sons. This Mother's Day my mom won't have her son here to hug, so she'll work towards a certification for leading searches. This Mother's Day I'd like a jewelry box. This Mother's Day, my mom wants the gift of being able to help bring someone's child home.

Since Austin isn't here to say 'I love you' or 'thanks' I'd like to say it for him. Thank you for being willing to sacrifice so much for him, for me and for others. Thank you for loving us always, teaching us about life, pushing us when needed, supporting us no matter, teaching us the value of hard work and to never give up.

Austin talked to you when no one else, knowing you would comfort but always help also. He respected you and loved you. If here, he would say thanks in a simple and quick way, but would mean it deeply.

Though I have my own methods, I hope and pray that my boys grow to know what Austin and I always knew- that they are loved by us and by God, and can never stray so far to be out of our love. Thank you.

Mom with Monica Caison, being presented with a CUE Keeper of the Flame Award, 2011

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Painful Days

2011-05-03T18:24:00.000-04:00

Doctors gave up on a cast after he removed two

Growing up, Austin and I didn't get sick much. But we more than made up for that with injuries. You name it, we hurt it between us. One of my parents first challenges with that was when I was burned severely at a young age. It might have been a sign of things to come, and maybe even prepared them for having two kids who always found a way to get hurt. Austin started young also, with a fall out of a shopping cart when he was about 2. It ended with emergency surgery to his finger. Austin always stayed calm though, and the doctors were shocked when they were able to do it with only local anesthesia. I however, sat in the waiting room crying the whole time!

As we grew, we continued to mount the falls, scrapes, bruises and breaks. I was training intensely for gymnastics, and Austin played various sports. We also spent free time playing with our friends on the land around our house, traipsing through woods, and generally making mischief. I broke the growth plate in my elbow and spent almost a week in the hospital with an infection after surgery. I sprained each ankle, wrist and knee more times than I can recall. But I was pretty tough, and kept getting up when I was knocked down. Austin was even tougher. He was playing football in the yard when he heard a pop and had intense pain in his knee. He was only about 8, but by now we all knew how tough he was, and when he cried about his knee day after day, there was no doubt something was wrong. After pushing doctor after doctor to find the problem, he finally had surgery which gave him a few years of relief. It turned out that he had more serious lasting knee issues than we realized, eventually in both knees.

A few days after surgery

Just to prove how tough he really was, he decided to fight a strand and barbed wire and lost. But no worry, he never cried, even as they decided that he must have nerve damage since the damage to his face was so severe. He wasn't quite as emotionally tough we learned though, because the few tears that did fall were because he heard Dad might have gone fishing without him.

As a teenager, Austin's knees had reached the point of needing more surgery, this time on both. One of mine had also reached it's limit, and we each had surgery, just days apart from each other in hopes of finding some relief. That was the most painful time of our lives, as we were also coping with the recent separation of our parents, and our first Christmas away from Mom. We had a pretty rough holiday, in physical and emotional pain, and unsure of what was ahead. I was in college and didn't like leaving him when that break was over.

During the next several years, we faced the family challenges and dealt with the pain, sometimes together. But Austin was always a private person, so the glimpses into what he really felt didn't come often. The knee pain grew (as did mine, I eventually had one more knee surgery plus a few others), and he became more private.

Sometime around 2005, Austin and his girlfriend were hit while he was driving her car. Their injuries weren't life threatening, but for a guy with so much joint and general pain trouble, it was bad. When Austin's knees went into the steering column and his back took the impact it did, I believe a dark time began. Soon after, the girlfriend broke his heart, and the the pain continued to grow. He didn't find much relief from the emotional or physical.

Austin had a job he loved, in a field he had been going to school for. He had people around him that loved him. But the pain was too much. As the physical pain grew, so did the emotional, and trying to cope with both was too much. We might never know how deep or real that pain was, and we may never know how we could have helped, because though we did try, he kept it hidden.

I'll forever have pain over losing him, that can never touch the physical pain I've ever felt. His whole life, Austin could take any pain, which leaves us to wonder even more, how bad it really must have been.

Wheels

2011-05-02T14:47:00.000-04:00

Austin's love of cars and trucks started at a pretty early age, and I think his favorite gift ever might have been the battery operated 4x4 truck he got when he was about three. From that time on, his wheels were an important piece of who he was.

Austin's first ride

A few years after that truck was outgrown, he upgraded to a go-cart. We lived on 3 acres off a dirt road, a dream of a place for a kid with a go-cart. I'll never forget that Christmas morning, when Austin went plowing through our outdoor decorations, laughing the whole time. He was on top of the world. We just laughed with him. Sometimes I realize I need to just laugh with my boys more, and not worry so much about the things.... I can guarantee you, those decorations wouldn't have survived to today. But you know, the memories of us all laughing that morning have.

Austin loved Ford Mustang's and everyone knew he'd have one one day. When I turned 17, I had finally saved enough money for my parents to match and get a car. They did better than match it, and I was thrilled when I was surprised with a 1988 Ford Mustang, only about 5 years old and the envy of my friends. The funny thing was, I had never wanted a Mustang, but it was pretty, and Austin assured me it was the coolest. I think he was just excited to get driven around in it, though truthfully he also loved seeing people he loved happy. Not too many years later, he got his own. Soon after, my mom had one too- a fast, great looking fire red convertible. We were a Mustang family.

No one could beat him or his car, or so he thought. I had recently started dating a guy who also had a history of speed. And apparently I liked fast cars too, because I bought a Mitsubishi Eclipse Turbo. Austin just knew that his car was faster. We were hanging out at a friend's house and everyone wanted to know which was faster.... I had no intention of finding out. So, they sat on me, took my keys and everyone ran out the front door. Austin had his car, and my new guy took mine, but suggested that I ride with him. He promised he wouldn't race with me in the car. He lied. I was in the backseat screaming as my car beat Austin's down the road we grew up on. When we got back to the house, everyone high tailed it inside, though the last words I heard as they did were "please don't break up with him!" I didn't, and as a matter of fact, Austin was in our wedding the next year.

What may be even more bizarre to me than knowing that Austin is gone, is knowing that he left on foot. Just about 10 days prior, Austin's car had been impounded due to unpaid tickets and he was gathering the money to get it back. He didn't like relying on friends to get him to work, and we thought he had it figured out. The last day that anyone who knows him saw him, he had called into work to go take care of the tickets. The next day, when he hadn't called work and didn't show up, they knew something was seriously wrong. It was about two months later when we learned what really happened, that Austin had taken a cab and gone to a pawn shop. From there he walked on foot to a store to buy ammo and a duffel bag, then back to the shop to retrieve the recently purchased shotgun. The he left. Just walked away. Almost four years later, and no one has seen him since. He left everything including a paycheck, signed blank check, laptop, and even his car. It just still makes no sense. He should have been on wheels.

Fighting Hope

2011-04-29T08:54:00.000-04:00

Hope. It's a word we use so flippantly in so many simple daily ways. We 'hope' it doesn't rain, we 'hope' for a win, we 'hope' someone has a nice day. It's not an action, not something we feel deep inside, but a wish thrown into the wind.

I've come to see hope much differently. We now hope through action and prayer, hope with our very souls, not into the wind but directly, truly to God. But what we hope for has sometimes divided our family.

My true hope is that one day we'll have answers, will know where Austin is, no matter what those answers are. I also truly hope that through this, God will use me to have impact on people. While I have a small flicker of thought that he may be alive, it's not where my hope lies. To me, hope is the belief that God will be with us, holding us up, and will give us peace- if we can allow through our pain. Truthfully, I don't believe I'll ever see my brother again on earth, and I can't place my hope in something I don't believe. That has caused division at times, as some see it as giving up.

As I write more about my only brother, the one I thought I'd grow old with, please don't see me as having given up. I have true and lasting hope, that will always require me to put my feet to the ground and take action, but hope that doesn't fail if one day we confirm he's gone. My hope is in Him, regardless of the outcome. One day I 'hope' that I'll be able to share that message with many, but it can't just be a wish, so here's my start to putting my feet to the ground, or pen to the paper.

Lyrics to a song I love: In Christ Alone (My Hope Is Found) by the Newsboys

In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
'Till on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost it's grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Brought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
'Till He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A funny thing happened on the bike trail.....

2011-04-27T23:40:00.000-04:00

This is a story long needing to be told, because it will make those involved laugh. I hope. It may also make them cringe, but I'm already smiling as I start to write. In the early days of Austin being missing, we really believed that we'd be able to quickly figure out where he was, go get him and drag him home whether he wanted to be there or not. We had people ask what would happen if we found him and he didn't want to come home.... well, mom just laughed and said not to worry, she'd take care of that. While it was certainly a difficult time, it was also a time of leads and possible sightings. It was a time of having somewhere to look. It's a time I miss in some ways.

One possible sighting came in from the Northside area, and we didn't hesitate to jump in the car and drive all over the area. We stopped often, crossing property lines, peering in windows of abandoned homes, and investigating any spot someone could be camping in. During our drive, we came across the Jacksonville Baldwin Rails to Trails entrance, and the thought occurred that if you wanted to disappear, there was a lot of land along that stretch you could safely camp out in. So, we knew we should explore it. But 14 miles is a long way to search, and there had to be a better way to cover the distance. So, a new plan was developed by this savvy group of searchers. We could drive the trail at night when there wouldn't be pedestrians, and would be less likely to be law enforcement to explain our illegal activities to.

A group of four strong, independent women set out close to 11pm, with a plan to go find him. Each time we set out, we truly believed that would be the time we succeeded. We drove very slowly, and each time there was an area of interest, we'd get out and search. It took us over an hour to cover it well, and I was so relieved as we reached the end. You see, I am terrified of getting into trouble. Blue flashing lights give me a panic attack, and it's been true my whole life. It started with the horrid memory of a traffic stop when I was about five, though my parents swear I never had a traumatic law enforcement experience.....I'm not sure I believe them. But enough about my own craziness for now...

By the end, I was driving, having given up on walking the woods in the dark. It's true, I have many fears. It seems my fear of being arrested for driving this crazy gang was less than the dark woods. One of our cohorts had been getting calls from her son all along the trail, and she kept reassuring him we were fine and no, he did not need to come rescue us. That last call had just been made when the trail abruptly ended and I somehow hit the curb, burst the tire and got the car stuck. You see, the trail wasn't really meant for cars so it ends before the road. Apparently they weren't planning for a car of women to drive it after midnight, so there were also no lights. We were tired and punchy and laughed hysterically. This is when it really got funny. To those of us in the car anyway.

My mom called AAA because we clearly needed help, but they needed to know where we were. That was a problem, we had no clue. We knew we were at the end of the trail, but no idea where that actually was, and there wasn't a road sign for a half mile. The representative asked, "well, what road did you turn on to get there?" and wasn't ready for the laughter that followed, since we didn't really want to explain that we'd arrived there by 14 miles of bike trail. In the meantime, the cohorts son called back, found out what was going on, and within a short time had 3 carloads of people there to try to help, which really just meant waiting for the tow truck. Eventually, it arrived and got us lifted off the curb and back in business, ready to find our way home.

We didn't find Austin that night obviously, but we did find support and laughter and healing that comes from such a night. We knew then, as we had been learning over those weeks, that we did indeed have people in our lives who would go through the woods in the dark with us. Not just metaphorically, but in real life if that's what it took. I thank God daily for those who've walked those dark woods of all types with us.

Isaiah 41:13
For I am the LORD, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.

The Bad One

2011-04-26T13:15:00.000-04:00

We had a conversation recently at our house that Austin would have argued with me on. I guess I just found the one perk of your brother being missing... he can't win the argument he isn't there for! It was one of those silly conversations that we would have laughed about.

Ben is a handful- a handsome, sweet, independent, smart, huggable, handful. He walked early, and has been in fast forward motion ever since. He wants to do everything himself, and when he doesn't get his way, he makes it very clear that he's not happy. And then he hugs you. And you forget what a terror he just was. Almost.

I made the comment that Austin would really enjoy Ben, and would laugh at me trying to successfully parent this crazy little one. Drew asked me why, and I told him that his Uncle Austin was just like Ben, and would really appreciate seeing me tortured so! I jokingly told Drew that "Uncle Austin was the bad one and I was the good one." Drew immediately wanted to know which one he was, and I quickly answered "the good one."

The truth is, I followed the less rocky path, the clearer path, the one that most would choose for their child. (Note- trust me when I say that I am NOT claiming to have been or be an angel!) Drew chooses those same paths. He is more cautious, slower to act and quicker to think. (Note- he is also no angel!) Drew and I play it safe.

Austin chose to do what was fun and was quicker to decide what that was. He was sweet and never mean that I can honestly remember. His path was different than mine, more rocky and curvy, and all his own. I think it may have been harder, but it was his. Decisions weren't based on fear but on pursuing what he wanted. What he wanted wasn't always what we wanted for him, but it was never bad, never hurtful to others. It was the right path for him.

Ben's path is still so unclear.... but it's already pretty clear that it's not a safe and easy one, but one we'll try his whole life to protect him on, and one I believe he'll enjoy and be a joy to others on. Just like his Uncle Austin.

Happy 30th Birthday Austin

2011-04-19T09:57:00.000-04:00

Austin's birthday is coming up in just a few short days, and as birthdays are usually good for, it makes us reflect on his life. We're in that really odd situation, that horrible situation, of not knowing if his life is ongoing or not. Wait, I really should rephrase that, because it's just not true. This year, Easter and Austin's birthday are on the same day, April 24. With Easter, comes celebrating that Christ gave His life for us and rose from the dead so we can be with Him forever. Shortly after Austin's disappearance, we heard from a friend that he had just recently reiterated his Christian faith to her. What a gift. Because I do believe that his life continues- maybe here on earth, or maybe in heaven- and I also believe that he's only lost to us, not to God. God knows exactly where Austin is, he knows and he still cares. Remembering that helps me remember Austin with a smile, even through the pain.

Austin and I shared a similar sense of humor, and I actually most often miss him when I want to laugh at something we would have laughed at together. It was usually family, sometimes at truly funny things, and sometimes as a way to cope with the tough things that we didn't truly think were so funny. I like to think that if Austin were asked about me, he'd say that I tried to help him when I could, and I laughed with him.

This weekend, while celebrating Easter with my kiddos and all their excitement, and with friends at church, and with a bit of family time, I'll be smiling remembering his life, and thankful that God is still in control.

Matthew 6:25-34 (The Message)

^25-26"If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don't fuss about what's on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.
^27-29"Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion—do you think it makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them.
^30-33"If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.
³⁴"Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.

Starting Point

2011-03-18T08:52:00.000-04:00

I have been writing bits and pieces of 'our story' for a while now, and have decided to not wait, to begin sharing them now. So today I start, with one purpose alone.

I pray that through these words, through our story, God will speak, and someone may listen. I pray that people are encouraged- not because of our story, but because of God's faithfulness. I pray that we are also encouraged, as there are still dark days.

So today a new journey begins, of sharing this journey we've been on for almost four years.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. —Hebrews 11:1

One year, 11 months, 2 weeks and

one day since we saw you, heard you

hugged you.

One year, 11 months, 2 weeks and

one day of searching, seeking, scouring

and devouring any piece of information

that would lead us to you.

One year, 11 months, 2 weeks and

one day of still hearing your laugh and

seeing your smile, though only in our dreams.

One year, 11 months, 2 weeks and

one day since our lives changed.

How many days are left? We don’t know,

but we will continue for all of the rest of

the days on this journey until it ends, and

even then, a new journey will begin as we

walk with others.

We love and we miss you.

by Anita Sullivan

June 14, 2009