It's weird to be writing my second post of the year reflecting on the death of a loved one. My uncle Donny Warner died suddenly on Friday, and quite honestly, I'm hoping this post helps me to process this loss. It's so, so difficult to be away from family during this time. I wish I was there to mourn with them and love them. It's hard to not get to share my hurting heart with theirs. It's hard to not be able to give my Grandma a hug, a hug that says I can't imagine what you are feeling having just lost your second son.

My uncle Donny was one of my favorite relatives. He was one of the most generous servants I have ever known. Ironically, he and his twin brother Danny both died from hearts that just stopped. Two men with hearts bigger and stronger than I have ever seen. Hearts for family and friends that went beyond duty or obligation, hearts that were loyal and kind and hard working. It's just weird how life turns out, and weirder how death happens.

My uncle Donny loved his children and grandchildren more than life itself. I know their hurt is so, so deep right now. And my heart is with them. I know they are feeling lost, as I would had I lost a parent. My prayers are for them to continue one day at a time.

My uncle Donny and aunt Carol Ann visited me in both Florida and Oregon, and I loved their visits. They always cared so much about me and what was going on with my life. I cherish those memories.

My mom has now lost 2 brothers, and life is different now. Life changes when one of us leave it. Our family will never be the same without my uncle Donny. I know this is not what she expected. I know this is not what my aunt Carol Ann expected. My heart is with them...no matter the distance, always with them.

Uncle Donny, I pray you are with Uncle Danny and Grandpa Jack right now. I pray there was a joyous reunion, which I know you have been waiting for for many years. We will be reunited one day... but in the meantime, you are dearly missed.

I'm blogging at 4am, been up since 2am when I was awoke by Gram laughing in his sleep. Quite a contrast from the cries that use to awaken us in the night, a much embraced contrast!

I was sitting on my couch this evening with my feet up and a book in my hand listening to the sweet giggles coming from Gram's room during bedtime routine with dad. I sat there soaking it all in, our living room, the dark night and warm glow of our lights inside, a kitchen cleaned after a good meal, and my two favorite guys giggling in the next room before bed. This is what I have been thinking about in the middle of the night after being awoke by dreaming laughs. I can't seem to shake this overwhelming feeling of contentment and gratitude, I can't get back to sleep because of it. I am utterly humbled at all God has chosen to give me and at who he has chosen to give me.

It's been about 5 months now that Dustin has been doing the bedtime routine with Gram and putting him to bed. After 18 months of nursing Gram and putting him down, I have gladly given this over to Dustin and Dustin has even more gladly and gaily accepted. Gram's bedtime routine includes reading books with dad right before night-nights. Every night is a little different in that there's no set amount of books that Gram and Dustin read together. Some nights Gram can hardly get through 1 book before he points to the crib and says, "night-nights". Dustin obliges with an "I love you bud, night-nights" and puts him to bed. Other nights Gram seems to delaying the inevitable with more books even though he is so tired. Those nights Dustin says, "just one more book bud and then night-nights." Gram obliges and is carried to his crib with an "I love you bud, night-nights." But some nights are like tonight, when both Gram and Dustin want to sit, cuddling in the rocker, pointing to and talking about each page in each book. There's no hurry, just delight in spending time together. I admit that on the nights when Dustin is at a meeting and I read with Gram, I find myself wanting to hurry through bedtime routine so I can get him down and have some time to myself. But Dustin, he doesn't do that, he savors each moment with Gram. He truly delights in his son.

What is on my mind tonight that I can't seem to shake is how amazing of a dad my husband is. Those of us who knew Dustin before he was dad often thought, "What kind of dad will Dustin be?" Dustin wasn't the kind of guy that flocked to babies or had kids flock to him necessarily. He had only held 1 or 2 babies before Gram came along! I didn't know what kind of dad Dustin would be, but I knew he would be a good dad. I knew he would surprise us. However, I greatly underestimated his skills as a father and have realized over these last months that Dustin is a great dad, a really, really great dad.

I knew that I would be a good mom. I love babies and have looked forward to this time in my life for a very long time. But I learn weekly from my husband what it means to be a godly parent, what it means to guide, correct and love with patience and intention. As I laid in bed tonight I just felt deeply grateful for the man who sleeps next to me night after night. For his for love me and our son (and the one on the way!) that comes from the very depth of who he is.

And so, I have no doubt that Gram was dreaming about his dad tonight. He could have been laughing at Dustin eating his head like a zebra (a notion totally made up by Dustin!), or kissing him in the small of his neck, or chasing him around the house, or pretending to drop the book, all things that Gram loves to do with his dad.

Sweet dreams, my boy, sweet dreams.

"The rituals just seemed to stop, like all the other natural endings- such as the last time one of the boys crawled into bed with us, or I carried them on my hip, or saw them naked, even. Such moments evaporate so quietly that you don't realize it's the last time until long afterward."

I'm reading this book called, "A Year by the Sea: Thoughts of an Unfinished Woman" by Joan Anderson. She is writing about her experience to not move with her husband when he accepted a new job and to, instead, spend a year in their Cape Cod cottage, basically trying to figure out now that her kids were out of the house and married what she wanted out of life. It's been a good read so far. I empathize with her, knowing that I could very well feel as she feels 20 years from now. I don't want to feel like she does, but I can understand how easily it is for women, in particular, to spend their whole lives managing their households that we forget to be us, to maintain our sense of self and purpose outside of our family.

This passage in particular really hit me because I've been feeling a bit of the same lately. Gram is almost 2 and, wow, how the time has flown. The days, however....they have not flown. And that's why this passage hit me. Because many days I feel like I am just trying to make it through the day with Gram, trying to meet his needs and keep crying/tantrums to a minimum. But I don't want to just make it through the days. Because one day I'll wake up and I won't have those days...the days of nightly baths and feet pajamas, the days of cuddles when he's tired or hurt himself, the days of pure elation when I come home from being gone, the days of "mom, mom, mom" in his sweet voice, the days of him wanting me to be with him all the time, of choosing me above anyone else. Those days won't be here forever. I don't want to push them along. I want to savor them. I want to savor this time with my baby boy.

But I also need to make time for myself, time which does not include watching TV or reading Facebook. I need meaningful time, time to read and write, time to pray and reflect, time to have adult conversations with those I love, time for silence and rest.

So this is where I'm at, trying to find the balance of savoring my time with Gram as well as carving out time for myself. I get the feeling this will be my challenge for the next 20 years, which is ok. I accept this challenge as opposed to the alternative, completely giving into serving my family at the expense of myself and feeling like I lost 20 years of my life. Life is so short, I want those 20 years to be meaningful to myself and to my family. I know it's possible. I know God has equipped me for it. I depend on Him to see me through.

As I seek to reconnect with God this Lent season, I am trying to steal away a few moments this morning to do just that. The Scripture I am reading for today is cutting right to my heart.

Isaiah 58: 1-12 (The Message)

^1-3 "Shout! A full-throated shout! Hold nothing back—a trumpet-blast shout!
Tell my people what's wrong with their lives,
face my family Jacob with their sins!
They're busy, busy, busy at worship,
and love studying all about me.
To all appearances they're a nation of right-living people—
law-abiding, God-honoring.
They ask me, 'What's the right thing to do?'
and love having me on their side.
But they also complain,
'Why do we fast and you don't look our way?
Why do we humble ourselves and you don't even notice?'

^3-5"Well, here's why:

"The bottom line on your 'fast days' is profit.
You drive your employees much too hard.
You fast, but at the same time you bicker and fight.
You fast, but you swing a mean fist.
The kind of fasting you do
won't get your prayers off the ground.
Do you think this is the kind of fast day I'm after:
a day to show off humility?
To put on a pious long face
and parade around solemnly in black?
Do you call that fasting,
a fast day that I, God, would like?

^6-9"This is the kind of fast day I'm after:
to break the chains of injustice,
get rid of exploitation in the workplace,
free the oppressed,
cancel debts.
What I'm interested in seeing you do is:
sharing your food with the hungry,
inviting the homeless poor into your homes,
putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad,
being available to your own families.
Do this and the lights will turn on,
and your lives will turn around at once.
Your righteousness will pave your way.
The God of glory will secure your passage.
Then when you pray, God will answer.
You'll call out for help and I'll say, 'Here I am.'

^9-12"If you get rid of unfair practices,
quit blaming victims,
quit gossiping about other people's sins,
If you are generous with the hungry
and start giving yourselves to the down-and-out,
Your lives will begin to glow in the darkness,
your shadowed lives will be bathed in sunlight.
I will always show you where to go.
I'll give you a full life in the emptiest of places—
firm muscles, strong bones.
You'll be like a well-watered garden,
a gurgling spring that never runs dry.
You'll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew,
rebuild the foundations from out of your past.
You'll be known as those who can fix anything,
restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate,
make the community livable again.

"Many people say, 'Who will show us better times?' Let your face smile on us, Lord. You have given me greater joy that those who have abundant harvests of grain and new wine. In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, will keep me safe." Psalm 4:6-8

Nine days ago my grandfather passed away. Walter Kell Lashbrook was just shy of 90 years old. We had the funeral last Saturday and buried him on Monday in the Moores Ridge cemetary in French Lick, Indiana where a whole host of Lashbrooks lie. This time has been emotional for so many reasons. Primarily and obviously, it has been hard to know that grandpa is gone. He will be missed by so many. He had been living in a nursing home this past year and he brought so much joy to those around him. All the staff loved him dearly, they loved his smile and his interest in being a part of whatever was going on. He loved to be around people, even when he couldn't see and couldn't hear very well. There were times when you didn't know if he really knew what was going on, when his speech was slurred and difficult for him to get out, and then out of nowhere he'd make a statement as clear and thoughtful as ever. My parents tell a story of a time that they went to visit him and he suddenly exclaimed, "Lisa, you have boots on!" (My mom was wearing boots with a skirt, apparently shocking and funny to my grandpa.) And when my grandmother arrived, he couldn't wait to tell her, "Eldeana, did you see that Lisa has boots on!" Such a silly guy.

I don't know if my age or the fact that I'm a mom now has contributed to this emotional time, but the reality of death has been heavy on my heart - the fleetingness of this life. While 90 years is quite a long time to live, for me, it's not enough. There wasn't enough time with grandpa. I didn't get to hear all I wanted from him. I didn't get to share all I wanted with him. My grandma is having a really hard time, which is understandable. However, her grief is so overwhelming to her that she wants to join my grandpa. They were married 68 years....68!!! That seems SO LONG to be with someone. And yet it wasn't enough, grandma wants more time.

I'm learning so much about my grandpa and love hearing stories about him, even if I've heard them a hundred times before. Grandpa Walt was in World War II and earned a purple heart. His battalion was instrumental in securing the way for General Patton to cross into Germany, the beginning of the end for Hitler. The story goes that he had a friend also named Walter that he served with. Word came back that Walter had died and they thought it was my grandpa. For weeks my grandma thought her husband was dead. I can't imagine the joy she felt when she got word he is alive!! Yet, the heartache she felt for the wife of the other Walter. It has dawned on me that grandpa alone wasn't spared during his years overseas. We were all spared. I would not exist had he been killed. Gram would not exist had he been killed. Little did he know that he, alone, wasn't saved, we were all saved. That's so humbling. To know that 50 years before I was born, God was ensuring my life through the dedication of a soldier.

Honestly, it's also been hard to know that the torch is being past, so to speak, and one day I will have to pass it on as well. My time will come when I will face death. And my hope is that I do it with the strength and peace of my grandpa. Although I know that grandpa's eternal life isn't over, that he is with Jesus, that I will see him again (Praise God!), it's been hard to see past the ugliness of death. The logistics of dying are ugly. I am so thankful to the many people who cared for grandpa to the very end. I'm thankful for all the family that surrounded him on his death bed. I'm thankful that as he took his last breath, the hands of his two sons were on him, loving and releasing him, assuring him that it was ok, that there was nothing to be afraid of, that what awaited him on the other side was better than what he was leaving, that they would be reunited again one day.

And so life is going on without grandpa. My memories of him are sweet, so, so sweet. My brother and I were his only grandkids, and he LOVED us, and showed us every chance he got. He was always up to do whatever we wanted to do. We would play hide-and-seek in his basement when we were younger. He would slip us dollar bills from his money clip without my grandma knowing. He fixed the best scrambled eggs. He loved sweets and never, ever passed up a piece of pie. He loved my grandma and was so proud of his two sons. He loved Jesus and enjoyed serving His church. He was the kindest man I've ever met. No one ever had a bad thing to say about Walt. Quite a legacy.

I love you Grandpa. I take comfort in knowing this isn't really goodbye, more like 'see you later'. I pray that when I join you my legacy is a reflection of yours, my character one you would be proud of.

I have been thinking about friendships lately, actually for the past year or so. I've been contemplating what it means to be a good friend and what I want out of my friendships. But mostly, I've been considering how to have friendships during this time of my life, and more importantly, how to maintain my friendships for a lifetime. Is that even possible?

Is it possible to have life long friends? I have moved so much in my life. I remember my friends from each new place I have lived, memories of relationships long gone. To think of that happening again in my life, having to move on from my current friendships and start again breaks my heart. I don't want to continue to make new friends for the rest of my life, I want friendships that are for life. Friendships that stand the test of time, that weather the storms together, that celebrate the big and little joys of life together, friends who are known inside and out. I want accountability and honesty, unconditional and tough love. I want friends who are closer than a brother, relationships that enhance even the dreariest of days.

I want friends who are not of the past but of the present and future. Relationships that I know will be an active part of my life twenty years from now. What I am realizing, reluctantly, is that time often doesn't allow for these kinds of relationships. Time, of all things. I can go a month or more without talking to friends who I hold so dear to my heart. Hard days and days will pass without talking to the people I know can lighten my load. Most of us don't have time for a lot of close friends. But we do have time for some. It's those some that I miss.

It's hard to maintain these close friendships when we live in different parts of town (or country!), when we send our kids to different schools, when we attend different churches, when those things that take up time in our lives aren't able to be shared, relationships suffer. Loneliness creeps in and the void appears ever so large, an expanse uncrossable.

Are close friendships seasonal? The kind of friends that share our every day life. Is it inevitable that people drift apart eventually? That once what bonded us so has passed, we've each moved on to something else, bonded with someone else. I guess this post is coming from a place of realizing I have so many amazing friends in my life, friends that I don't get enough time with, friends that I want more of, friendships that Time is thwarting. Damn you Time.

I have never really realized the utter freedom that will be felt when Time is banished. When we have eternity to spend with our loved ones, forever to enjoy the company of the One and ones who we love so dearly. I eagerly anticipate the days that have no end, when time stands still and precious moments are allowed to linger and linger in the company of friends.