We've missed Nick in all the small things and in all the big things since he died May 15, 2002. At first, I missed him much more in all the small. Sitting down as a family at a dinner table with 5 chairs and only 4 being filled, his contagious smile and booming laughter, watching his friends throughout high school, not being picked on and at the same time protected, and so much more.
As time goes on, I miss him much more in all the big (honestly because I have trouble remembering a lot of the small and I hate it). Holiday gatherings, graduating from high school and then college, receiving the acceptance letter to U of M, and getting married. Milestones are filled with a mix of grief and joy. Preparing for Baby Stone is no different, actually it feels much more significant. I've tried so many times to play this scenario out in my head: How would Nick react to hearing we are pregnant? This is hard to do because my furthest memories are of a 13-year-old boy and the rest is what my mind has tried to form of all the "would haves, should haves, could haves, and supposed to bes." As a 13-year-old boy, Nick had the biggest heart. He was quick to get dirty on a sports field or play a practical joke and just as quick to show his care and love for others in the most genuine ways. He loved people so well and also had a deep understanding of God's goodness. His faithful was so mature. Nick would have cried joy tears upon hearing the news of our pregnancy. I'm sure of it. I wish so badly Nick could be here as we prepare for baby. He would have been the very best uncle. The perfect mix of fun and seriousness. I'm sure our son would have learned several things a mother doesn't want her son to learn (whoopee cushions, fart machines, and stink bombs come to mind), but more importantly I know Nick would have taught our son values, character, love for Jesus, and of course undying love for the Michigan Wolverines. I get caught up just thinking about what it would be like. The reality is Nick wasn't here when we shared our pregnancy news, he won't be here for the birth of our baby, and our son won't ever meet his uncle. I am so sad for our son, but take such joy in one thing I am confident of: our son will know his uncle. I have memories, pictures, and stories. Also, I have you. If you knew Nick, I need you to tell my son about your memories: as a friend put it to me, you're the keepers of his story now. Friends, if you didn't know my brother but joined my family on this grief journey, tell my son about that when he gets older. There is such beauty in this story. I have a request as we head into the holidays. The year Nick died, SO many of you attended a birthday party for him at our house. You brought beautiful Christmas ornaments that represented Nick (sports, angels, verses, U of M anything) or our family and wrote notes filled with memories and encouragement. Every single year since Nick died my family has continued to put up his special tree. It creates a space for us to talk about Nick's life and legacy. We read all the old notes about funny things he did, his 3-point shot at the buzzer, how he never had his own pencil, his love for Christ, ect. It's intentional and I'm so thankful for the time each year. I would love, love to have a "Nick tree" at our house so that as our son grows, he knows his uncle and remembers him in a tangible way. I would really love if you would be willing to send an ornament that represents Nick or the part of the grief journey you joined us on to our address (message me for details) sometime before Christmas with a little blurb about a special memory. If you can't send an ornament, it's completely understandable (this is quite a humbling request) and I would still love if you could send a notecard with a memory you have of Nick or a verse you have prayed over our family. Thank you, so much in advance. We are excited for baby Stone and are praying for God to provide us with wisdom as we raise our son to know his uncle.
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I've been proposed to 3 times in the past 2 years. The first proposal was on "National Scavenger Hunt Day" October 19, 2013, the second one was after a pretty ugly fight October 19, 2014, and the third one was this morning via a homemade card sitting on the table (shows how well he is getting to know me, didn't wake the sleeping Bear at 5am-awesome choice!) and beautiful flowers sent to work, October 19, 2015.
The question was simple, "Will you...again?" My answer was yes. I wanted to say, "Of course my answer was yes," but it turns out, saying yes the first time was by far the easiest time, and yet saying yes this morning meant so much more. Our engagement was about so much more than a ring. The ring is beautiful and something I will cherish forever, but our engagement is a story of redemption, grace, and unconditional love. A friend shared an article with me called "What We Didn't Say Yes To." Kendra Broekhuis writes: Maybe you’re in the part of your marriage story, encountering lots of stuff you didn’t realize you both were saying “Yes” to when he asked, “Will you?” I pray that each and every day, from the time you say “Good morning,” to the time you finally lay your tired head on the pillow at night. From the time you are enjoying snuggling up to each other in the chilly autumn breeze, to the time you remind him not to slurp his cereal so loudly. From the time you come face to face with life’s heartaches and sorrow, to the time you realize your marriage is stronger for it. I pray that all those times, you will choose to say, “Yes.” With Christ’s unconditional love as your example. And with Christ’s power as your strength. Just say "Yes." I am humbled each year Austin asks, "Will you?" because I've noticed marriage doesn't always bring out the best in me and sometimes it's really hard for me to walk with and live with someone else during trials and pain. Austin is a gift I truly don't deserve. These past two months I have struggled to let my "miss independentness" go. Honestly, I have needed Austin way more than I am comfortable needing someone lately. I am pushed to remember he is simply a small reflection the unconditional love Christ has for me. We didn't realize some of the painful experiences we were saying yes to, but we also didn't know some of the joy-filled experiences we were saying yes to either. Watching my belly move as little miracle gives some big kicks this week is just one of those things we didn't know we were saying yes to. God is so cool. The Lord has been faithful to us and to the people we love. I am excited to see what exactly it is that I said "yes" to this morning as the year unfolds. About a week ago, Timehop reminded me about a blog post I wrote this time last year. A Prayer for Our New Home. I didn't open it, didn't reread it. I kind of already had the feeling we would be staying in Evart for "another season" (whatever that means) and wasn't the happiest person about it. I didn't want to remember the prayer about God using us here.
Today, after the denial started to fade some and I caved and put my fall decorations up, I read it: So my prayer today is that I understand my true blessing. It's not my house. Or my job. Or my standard of living. No. My blessing is this. I know a God who gives hope to the hopeless. I know a God who loves the unlovable. I know a God who comforts the sorrowful. And I know a God who has planted this same power within me. Within all of us. And for this blessing, may our response always be, "Use me." I am grateful for the opportunity to buy a house. I am blessed to know and be known by a God who provides things a house can't. Use us God. Austin and I wanted to move back to Grand Rapids to be closer to our family and friends, the community we are most comfortable in. Mr.Fix-It aka Steveo is in Grand Rapids, he's who I call almost every time I'm facing a home repair and Austin's not around, I wanted to be closer to him. I wanted grandmas to be within driving distance the moment I realize I have no idea how to do this mom thing after baby boy comes. Mostly, we wanted to move in order to better support our recently widowed friend and his sweet baby girl. At 24 years, I can't believe I'm using the word widow to describe one of my friends. I know a God who comforts the sorrowful. The same power is within me and I trust God will allow Austin and I to still be part of his home team, even though I don't know what that looks like yet. We are humbled and grateful to continue living here in Evart. When we were trying to sell our house I kept saying, "If I could just pick up this house and move it to Grand Rapids I would be so happy." I love our home- the completely imperfect hardwood floors, the two old windows in the kitchen, the original hardware on door hinges, everything. We tried to get the heck out of dodge but instead we get to stay. We get to bring our baby boy into this home. I still can't believe it. There is hopelessness, people who feel incredibly unloved, and lots of sorrow in our little town. Our school district is described as traumatized. It's hard living here sometimes. Yet, from the moment we tried moving, community started popping up everywhere. Cards, flowers, baby gifts, a meal. Someone from our small group joked there is a Facebook group called Keep Austin and Haley in Evart. We have been well loved and well served. It's our turn to join in and get our hands dirty. My prayer is simple, and remains the same: Use us God. |
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Hi! I'm Haley. Archives
May 2019
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