Sevens

Today marks seven months since Gabriel’s best day, the day he met his creator. I carried him seven months and now we’re seven months away from that last, first, day. I have cried more this past week getting ready for the Forrest Spence Fund 5k than I have in months. It’s the seventh year of the race. Hmmm, 7’s everywhere. The fund’s executive director and founder, Brittany Spence, asked us to speak at the event along with others who have benefitted from the fund.  I wanted to wing it, but she wanted written remarks. It didn’t take long to write it, but once I did, the thinking about it, the sadness of it, was heartrending.

I think that’s why I write. It’s safe.  I’ve said that before. Tears don’t stick to the internet. When you have to say it out loud, tears get on everything and eye contact increases your sorrow when you see the sad reflecting back at you through a friend’s wet eyes. Sometimes it’s through a stranger’s eyes because waterworks are unpredictable.  And waterproof mascara isn’t. I don’t even wear it. That would be stupid.

Prep time to the race is normally a fun time. The Spences are in our church family and we rally around their worthy cause every year. Tons of friends volunteering, organizing, planning. This time, I couldn’t shake the sad. I couldn’t go inside to pick up my T-shirt at pre-registration. I sat in the car and cried while Super K went in. I couldn’t hang out with the other volunteers on race day. I did my shifts, no problem, but I was not OK in the moments of down time. At one point, I literally stood behind a massive oak tree thinking I was at least hiding myself from some of the people some of the time. At my maximum meltdown, I leaned against the side of my parent’s suburban because there was literally nowhere to hide in all of Overton Park. I tried to check my face in the side mirror. I would have crawled inside and laid down on the backseat if it were unlocked even though it was a good 95+ degrees outside. Eventually a brave friend spotted me and twin in one arm, me in the other, comforted me.

A church elder darted over, kissing me once – with his signature furry mustache mouth – on the top of my head and darted away to let me sob with the saint. Then my best local friend found Kevin and he looked at me the way only he can do and calmed me. Meanwhile yet another friend smiled knowingly and said she loved me and kept her stroller rolling in stride seeing that I was in good hands. Sometime later, we made it through the speech, thanks to Kevin doing almost all of the talking. My parents came. That meant the world to me. It was a good day but an exhausting one. I went home and watched/talked to The Princess Bride after eating three ham and cheese croissants. Then I took a nap.

Brittany and David Spence turned a tragedy into a triumph of love when their first son died 55 days after his Sept. 10, 2007 birth. The next year they started the Forrest Spence Fund, a nonprofit to serve the non-medical needs of families who have children with critical, chronic or life-threatening illnesses in the Mid-South. Memphis is home to Le Bonheur Children’s Hospital so there is no shortage of people to serve. They provide the simple – and immediate – things parents need: rolls of quarters to feed vending machines for parents who can’t leave their baby’s side even for a meal. Custom car seats, specialty products, items geared toward each individual’s need. They also provide grief counseling to every parent who loses a child. And they think of everything in between all the while visiting the families, connecting with them, and reminding them they are not alone. It’s more than help, it is hope.

I haven’t changed my mind about anything that has happened to us. That’s not what this is. Seven months down the road and we still glorify God and thank Him for His plan for our lives. Everything got really fresh this past week. Fresh tears, fresh memories, and oh my, the idea of a world so broken and so full of dying babies that you even need a Forrest Spence Fund. That it even has to exist. Thankfully, our Heavenly Father knows best and the fund does exist and it does bring comfort to thousands. And thank you Jesus for being our living sacrifice – the original Bethlehem baby born to die – born to give us sinners a Happy Ending – eternally – and therefore to make sense of the senseless.

The 1,200+ runners and ghost runners raised more than $86,000 on Saturday. My Bonus Sister and my nephew signed up as ghost runners, donated, and ran an honorary 5k together Sunday in honor of Gabriel in New Jersey. It was such a beautiful gesture I couldn’t even talk to them. It was a picture of a mother and son spending time together to honor a mother and son who are apart (for now). I was taking another nap Sunday – something I never do – when Kevin called to say thanks to them. I was whipped. And we were almost out of croissants.  

It’s always hardest for me during the waiting times. The monthly rollercoaster of expectation and disappointment can mess with your mind, and my hormones can shift into a gear of over-drive that cannot be categorized. We’re in another waiting time now. We want and pray for babies. Healthy babies.

A different friend gave her testimony in Sunday school on Sunday. Her words couldn’t have been more timely. In part, she said God “doesn’t give grace for your imagination.” In other words, don’t worry about tomorrow, or the worst-case scenario, or your fill-in-the-blank worry. Trust Him. He gives grace for today. Tomorrow he’ll give grace for that day, and that’s up to Him. Don’t rush it and don’t play God.

That’s really good advice. I’m so thankful to have a community of believers to help in the tearful times and times where renewed patience is needed. Like every minute.

Here’s what Kevin, mostly, said after the race, you know, for the record. Also, he came in third in his division, and also he’s joined me in residential real estate as El Presidente of The Holt Team Realtors of Coldwell Banker Collins-Maury Inc. and I couldn’t be happier! (He didn’t want me to make a big deal out of it, but this is a record, right, and it’s part of the record. And I love him. And he’s the greatest! And I love him again. And he already has a buyer and a seller and that’s pretty much the full extent of what we do in real estate so he’s already phenomenal! And, finally, I love him.) 

“The Forrest Spence Fund paid for our grief counseling after we buried our first and only child in January of this year. We named him Gabriel after the Biblical angel who served as God’s messenger on earth. Gabriel in the Bible told Mary she would carry Jesus. He delivered all kinds of important messages for God in heaven. Our son Gabriel brought us the message of total trust in the Lord, glorifying Him in all circumstances, and believing in His plan –  His dominion in and over our lives. Our son Gabriel brought people closer to Jesus in a powerful way that we as his parents could only marvel at in awe of God’s purpose.

Gabriel met Jesus on January 25 at 31 weeks. In November, at 20 weeks, we were told our child would not live outside Lee’s womb because of double kidney failure in his tiny body. The condition has a 100% fatality rate at birth. It’s complicated, of course, but basically the kidneys create the fluid that allows a baby to practice breathing and to grow. At full term, medically, Gabriel’s lungs wouldn’t have worked even if we had a kidney transplant on the table. Instead he made it to week 31 to be born still – to live eternally with Jesus, knowing no other love than that of us as his parents and Jesus as his savior. The shocking diagnosis was followed by 11 weeks of unconditional love, songs, rubs, and caring. Brittany was one of the first women Lee sought guidance from when the diagnosis was given. She helped us find the peace that surpasses understanding once she explained that we were not alone, that these things happen more often that you realize, and so much more. We’ve volunteered at this race for years. Brittany and David are church friends and our hearts always went out to the people who we’d hear talk up here. Lee remembers volunteering last year – she was pregnant but it was too soon to tell anyone about it – never imagining that at this very next race, we’d be among the God-loving speakers standing here in front of you asking you to support the fund. Volunteer. Donate. Hug people and get into their lives. Let them into yours. We’re really not that different after all.”

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The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in Him. – Nahum 1:7