Bay Bridge Lights

 When I was a little girl, we spent a lot of time in the summers at the lake with my extended family. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. Those days are some of my very best memories. I’m sure my love for the water comes from my dad’s family where such things have run deep for several generations. 

Other than the fun had on the boat and in the water during the day, one thing sticks out in my memory. The lights of the Sandusky Bay Bridge. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt as safe, cozy, and content as I did on those late night drives home. I would be snuggled up, ready to doze off, relishing the kind of tired that only comes from a day spent swimming, playing, laughing, and being a kid under the sun. 

I would always fall asleep on the way home, but never before we went over the bridge and I watched the lights of the bridge whiz by, lighting up the darkness, one by one. Everything was simple then. It seemed inconceivable that Gram and Gramps and my dad wouldn’t always be there. I never thought those many days of family togetherness would end. As a child, those were my people. The ones closest to me. Family get-togethers were a regular part of life and the Sanders family did them often and well. 

We were at the lake today, as we have been a million times since then, and for some reason, those sweet memories came back as we crossed the bridge. I was in a car full of the ones who are my people NOW. My own children. The ones little-girl me dreamed about. 

In the natural ebb and flow of life, we miss those little moments. I miss those people. I miss the family togetherness. I miss the carefree days when my biggest annoyance was having to stop playing to get slathered in another coating of sunscreen. I miss it all. 

But I am grateful to have had those magical days, surrounded by a big family. And now it’s our turn to grow our own extended family with our children and the people they add to the mix. Carrying pieces of the past and creating something new at the same time. Sometimes I’m in awe of how good my God has been to me. 

On Being Low

 People who know me well know that anxiety has been my nearly-constant companion for most of my life. But my experience with the flip side of that coin is less familiar. 

Like everyone, I have suffered in many ways throughout my life. The closest I can ever recall being actually depressed - in hindsight - is about a month after Haven was born. 

I didn’t want to get out of bed. One of my strongest memories of that time was when a friend from church was bringing us dinner. I didn’t have it in me to even meet her at the door. I remember telling her that I would be in bed and that she could put the food on the counter, not caring at all that the kitchen was messy and she probably had to move all manner of junk out of the way to make space for the meal she had so kindly prepared. 

All that to say that I’m not in that kind of place now. But I have felt pretty darn low the last few months. You may assume that it stems from losing my job. And it does play a role. Anyone who has been there knows it’s a massive shift in your life mentally, emotionally, and financially.

It opened my eyes to the fact that I had misplaced trust. I would say my trust was in Jesus, but I was also putting faith in money, my own abilities, and people.

I think the larger reason for my lowness now is a combination of things, not the least of which is the stage of life I’m in. My oldest child has an actual grown-up career. My youngest child is graduating from high school and leaving home in a few short months. And I will be starting a new career journey at the same time. (That will be for another day. 😉)

All of it combined with the financial strain we are currently under is a lot. 

I know we are so blessed and there are so many suffering much, much worse things. But we all have to feel and grieve and pray and deal with where we’re at. 

My prayer is that the Lord will use this time in my life to teach me, mold me, make me more like Him, and that I will always point to Him no matter what is swirling all around me.

Because at the end of the day, it’s not about me. It’s about Him. His plan. His path. His glory. I’m just blessed to be along for the ride.

[Disclaimer: I am not equating feeling low with the deep, dark depression that so many suffer from. I would never want to give the impression that I think they are the same thing!]

On Your 19th Year

 Dear Haven,

Happy Birthday! How we miss you and love you! 

I wonder if you know that people who love us and love you have carried you all around the globe? You’ve been wonderful, beautiful places that we will likely never go. Seeing your name on 7 continents and everywhere around the world - even if it’s just Ashland, Ohio - is one of the greatest joys of my life. 

Where we will one day go is where you are now. With Jesus, alive and full of joy forever. No life-limiting diagnoses, no anencephaly, no death, no loss. What a day that will be!

I don’t know what Heaven is like, but I hope that you get to be with Bobby. He loved you so and got to be the first one in the family you greeted on streets of gold. That thought makes me happy. 

As the years go by, we become more acutely aware of what you might be doing here. As your brothers and sister mark milestones, we remember you didn’t have those experiences. And there is grief in that. But, as we step back and take in as much of the full picture as the Lord allows us to see now, how can any joy in this life compare to Heaven? 

So, this year, as we mark your birth, I do it with a twinge of sadness, as always, but also with a peace because I know you are where you were created to be. 

19 years without you, but eternity ahead, together. Happy Birthday, sweet son! We loved you every day you were here and we will love you forever. 

Love, 

Mama