A Memorial Day

Ten years ago, there was a house. A little farm house out in the country, somewhere in Wisconsin. Though it looked normal, it was used as a church building for a small group of Christians. Ten years ago, a girl with a group of friends decided to go. The group traveled, arrived, and was welcomed despite the radical differences in age and culture.

The Holy Spirit was there, waiting. And the girl knew it.

As the service progressed, the atmosphere became charged with energy. And the girl became increasingly more uncomfortable.

You see, this girl was tied up in depression, suicide, insecurity, and selfishness. And she was tired of it.

That day became the day of salvation for her. In that little farmhouse, with that small group of Christians, Light shone into her dark yet desperate heart and the Light won.

Ten years ago, Memorial Day Sunday 1999, that girl, instead of taking her own life, she gave it to Jesus. Jesus took it, cleaned it, restored it, and is now glorifying Himself with it.

I forget, often, what Jesus did that day. And I am grateful that He reminds me where I have come from, where I have been.

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet, Sung by flaming tongues above;
Praise His Name- I'm fixed upon it- Name of God's redeeming love.

Hitherto Thy love has blest me; Thou hast bro't me to this place;
And I know Thy hand will bring me Safely home by Thy good grace.
Jesus sought me when a stranger, Wand'ring from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger, Bo't me with His precious blood.

O to grace how great a debtor Daily I'm constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter, Bind my wand'ring heart to Thee:
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it; Seal it for Thy courts above.


Memorial Day Sunday 2009 I am sitting with my family. We are just finishing up an evening Bible Story, we have prayed together and now it is time for hugs and final 'good nights'. I can't quite remember how it all happened, but Joshua asked about the Holy Spirit. I explained the Trinity to him and how the Holy Spirit lives inside the people who want Him to.

Joshua expressed that he wanted the Holy Spirit to live inside him, too. Joel and I explained to him about making God the boss of his life and being sorry for the bad things Joshua has done. He seemed to understand and so I led him in a short prayer to ask the Holy Spirit into his heart.

What a joy that was to my heart! Joel and I aren't sure how much he understands, but all I know is, that as Joshua's mommy, I need to encourage Joshua and point him to the Truth. I leave the rest in God's hands.

Remembering With Hope

As there is anticipation for Grape Nut, there is also remembering each of our children's births. I (Renee) am finding it healing to remember, not just Emily's, but Joshua and Rachel's also.
With Joshua there was the newness of it all, full of wonder, fear, and curiosity. I remember the idealism I had as a first time parent. He'll be sleeping through the night at two weeks old, nursing will be a snap, and of course, I will always know why he is crying. Hehe. I'm glad that's over! A little wiser now, a little more humble.
I love seeing these pictures of Joshua. It was just me and him during the day. We went on lots of walks together, watching the snow melt (he was a March baby), seeing the different wildflowers popping up, and getting to know each other. He was a wonderful baby, easier than most, though I didn't realize it at the time.
Then there was Rachel. The thrill and surprise of having a girl, a daughter. I remember crying with joy as Rachel was placed in my arms. A girl! God had given us a girl! It might sound silly but one of the minor reasons of wanting a girl was that on my mom's side: my grandma, my mom, myself, and now Rachel are each 25 years apart from the next one. So when Rachel was born, I was 25, my mom was 50 and my grandma was 75. Kind of neat I thought.
Both Joel and I were more relaxed about Rachel. I think we enjoyed being parents a little more, having gone through it once with Joshua. But it was still different. There was a sibling waiting at home to help, to hold and to be held! Life went a little faster with two little ones. And there was more strengthening grace from God, more than I had experienced before. My love had multiplied, it was not divided between two children as I had thought it might be.

And then there was Emily. At 20 weeks pregnant began a journey neither Joel nor I had ever anticipated. It began with a routine ultrasound, a phone call from the doctor. "Renee, there might be something wrong with the baby's heart." I remember not breathing as I listened. I remember laying my head against the wall, the phone to my ear, the tears falling, my mind going blank. The ups and downs of that year are overwhelming and I could not have kept on without the solid grace of God and the prayers of His people. I was carried through as Emily Grace was born and I heard her cry for the first time. And they took her away. Four hours later I saw my little girl. I almost didn't want to touch her, was she really mine? The next nine days were indescribable and yet I was still carried. June 11th came. And I watched. I watched eleven highly educated people try and save Emily. But they couldn't. Emily slipped away, and woke up in the arms of Jesus. We said goodbye and drove home with three car seats, one of them empty.
We buried Emily at ______ Cemetery in _______ underneath a spruce tree. She has Juneberry trees on all sides of her. These trees bloom every June with beautiful white blossoms. There is a pinwheel on her grave, many "pretty" rocks from the kids and soon there will be a basket of Forget-me-nots. Her headstone is a large rock, about the size of her, from Lake _____. It has a butterfly on it; for she has flown away into a new life, waiting, with Jesus, for our turn to come home.

And so I await Grape Nut. The whirlwind of emotions that go on inside me each day are sometimes overwhelming. Will Joel and I really take this baby home, in her carseat? Will she be healthy or will she be like Emily? Will I say goodbye sooner than I care to, or will I bring her home to be a part of our family?

The joy of a new baby is shadowed by the sorrow of our third child. Yes we have hope. Yes we are excited. But it is a battle, an everyday one, to keep the sorrow at bay. To embrace sorrow is a difficult thing, to allow to be healed is surrender. But to constantly live in sorrow is a fight. For that is not where I should be. God has offered me hope and I wish to embrace it, but it is a choice I make every hour.

Five Years

May 15, 2004 Joel and Renee were married near the Sheep River in Alberta, Canada. It was an overcast spring day, about 40 degrees Fahrenheit. The trees had a light spring green tinge to them and the grass was soft and green. The Rockies were there though they couldn't be seen, you could hear the river and the birds, and we were both barefoot. My feet never got cold.



Below is a song of which the lyrics struck my (Renee) heart. Though they may seem negative at first, to me they were of hope and perseverance. It was a reminder that my husband is "just a man", doing the best that he can. He's not giving up on me. I'm not going to give up on him either. We are living life together, and we are committed to each other. No matter what.


Don't Give Up On Me (by Andrew Peterson)

The road is long that leads me home tonight
It disappears into the distant light, my love
Don’t give up on me
You know I love you, but I’m just a man
I don’t always love you the best that I can, my love

Don’t give up on me
Don’t give up on me
I won’t give up on you

Got all these letters that I never did write
All this affection I kept inside my heart

Don’t give up on me
Don’t give up on me
I won’t give up on you

You were there when I shook my fist at the sky
You were there when I fell to the earth and cried
Do you remember how it felt just like we died and rose again?

And the storm inside was raging
It was howling like the wind at the Pentecost
And his love was teaching us a language we thought was lost.

I have felt the holy fire of love
Been burned by the holy fire of love
Made clean by the holy fire of love

I walked beside you in the canyon flames
Deep as an ocean and hot as a thousand suns
We barely survived

Now I wake up in a golden dream
Angel voices in the rooms where the children run
All covered in light

Don’t give up on me
Don’t give up on me
I’m begging you, please
Don’t give up on me
I won’t give up on you

Border Route hike with Josh Lindstrom and Rillian

We took the Caribou Rock Trail to the Border Route and came out on the Daniel's Lake access.

Overlooking Duncan Lake


The white pines were magnificent


There were no trail markers and it was often overgrown. At one point it seemed to just disappear in the snow. Eventually with a little Divine guidance we found a small log that had been cut with a saw. Another slog around a blowdown through knee deep snow and I found another and eventually we were back on the trail.


Lunch at Stairway Portage



The first overlook on Rose Lake. The next one was another 100 ft taller. It was awesome, but hard to capture in a picture.



Campsite on Rose


Good night.

Happy Mommy's Day!

I don't know why I enjoy Mother's Day so much. Perhaps it's the pretty carnation I receive at church. Or maybe it's because the sun is usually shining and Spring is finally here. This year was slightly different, as some of you may guess.

For the last 3-4 years Joel has taken me (and the kids) to a local greenhouse and let me pick out some flowers for my garden and hanging basket. I love flowers, especially ones in greenhouses. The humidity, the smell, the vast array of colors including GREEN, and then the challenge:

I have a budget, and I need to stick to it.

Pansies are always a must (right, Maria?), then violets are a favorite, so those must go in my box, too. Daisies I'm a sucker for, and lately, Callie cream. They are a smaller version of petunias, more delicate. I usually get tomatoes because of the short growing season here, but this year, to save money of course, we started them from seed indoors.

After the successful adventure in the greenhouse, we usually just head home on Mother's Day. But this year, at my request, we took a detour.

There was so much snow at Maple Hill Cemetery a month ago I didn't think we could make it in, let alone visit Emily's grave. As we got closer, there was only grass (well, brownish-green grass), no snow. As we parked and unloaded rakes, it felt a little different being there. There was a sense of familiarity, a sense of sorrow (but not as striking), and a sense of peace. But there was another feeling that I couldn't put my finger on. Later, Joel put it into words: "it feels less like Emily is here [in the grave] and more like she's in heaven."

We cleaned up the grave site, the kids put their "pretty" rocks near the headstone, and I made plans for where to put flowers and to replace the pinwheel that had broken during the winter.

It was a beautiful Mother's Day, as it usually is. I remind myself that I am a mother only because of these children that God has given me. Without them, my kids, Mother's Day would be just another holiday that I have a hard time relating to. So as they and Joel are thankful for me, I in turn am thankful for my kids. No one can replace them or take them away. I will always be their mother. Just as Emily Grace will always be my daughter.