Wednesday, October 31, 2007

not much to say

I guess I should apologize. It's what you do when you've been really, really negligent in a relationship and forget to call a friend back or bail on them for dinner. Somehow, I feel like all of "you" out there are friends now, people who know the ins and outs of life for me, at least to some degree, and people who are loving me and lifting me up. So thank you. And I'm sorry.

There seem to be moments - days, weeks - in the midst of grief that can best be described as "emotional pauses." Things just stop and suddenly you feel absolutely zero. They're pauses because, of course, they don't last forever, but while they do, living feels somewhat like standing in the center of a whirling merry-go-round: the world around you moves, rides the tide of joy and laughter and sorrow and sadness and you - you're watching it fly past without a single movement. You are still and yet you are carried by the constant motion around you.

I wish I could elaborate a little more, but as I said: you feel absolutely zero. Someone asked me about sending a birth announcement this morning, whether it would be hard for me to get it in the mail, and I found myself honestly telling her that I just felt like Copeland hadn't been here at all, that it was all a dream. I struggle to even type those words - while one part of me rests in the emotionlessness, the other fights against it, longing to feel, even if just for a moment, what I know I can - what I do - in my harder moments. Sometimes I think this is what keeps Copeland here, what makes her existence a reality. It's foolishness, and I constantly comfort myself with the notion that, were she alive and old enough to do so, she would tell me that my needing to feel nothing right now - my needing to go out and do the silly, trivial things of life and simply to function on some level of normalcy - is okay. That even feeling like her time here was a dream is okay. I believe she'd say these things because I would say them to my own mom.

Tonight was Halloween and it's odd that we've made it this far. Five weeks ago we were handing our daughter's body to strangers and staring out at the landscape ahead with fear in our hearts. Five weeks ago we had no idea how we'd get here. And yet... here we are.

My heart is hopeful. Hopeful for the future, for what God has in store. As we walked from house to house tonight, Sellers giggling in her little princess costume and swinging her bag full of candy, it struck me that maybe, just maybe, we might be spending our last Halloween as a threesome. There's always the hope. Always the thought that perhaps things will be different in time. Someone once said to Conor and I that those who choose to end their own lives don't usually do so because, as we commonly suspect, they "lose all hope." Usually it's because they can't stop hoping. It's strange, thinking about hope that way, like a thorn in the side. The Bible says that "hope deferred makes the heart sick, but [that] a longing fulfilled is a tree of life" (Proverbs 13:12). A hope deferred. Put off. Delayed. I remember finding that verse last year, after my second miscarriage, and holding the Bible up as I prayed, somewhat miffed, "God, Your Word itself says that when things that I long for are unfulfilled, my heart will be sick - broken. It's here, right here, in Scripture." I don't know why I was shocked, but I suppose part of it was that I'd never considered the fact that my sadness over a longing that remained unfulfilled might be validated in the same book that says God works everything out for good if I love Him and commands me to trust in Him, no matter what. It's like learning something new and wonderful about someone you love after years of loving them. Strange, perhaps a little disconcerting - how could I have missed this? - and incredibly refreshing. Suddenly there are even more reasons to love them. And maybe to question and to hurt. If God knows that in prolonging my hope to have more children, my heart will literally ache, and that the hoping will continue, and consequently the aching, then why does He let me hope at all? Why not remove the hope altogether?

When Copeland died, I remember smirking. This is the moment, this is the moment my baby daughter breathed her last, and still, You are nowhere to be seen. Surely You'd show up now! I don't know what I expected, but somehow it felt like a let-down, or a betrayal, or a joke. And yet - that moment was holy. How can God be so there and yet so absent? How can we feel Him moving and yet feel so alone?

Thus is the conflict of faith. I find that much of my life is defined by conflict at this point. The battles that wage between the parts of my heart that believe and disbelieve, cry and laugh, walk forward and stand still. It's a remarkably exhausting place to be. This is why I chose to say that these are the words of a girl struggling to "know the God she loves." How you can love someone without really knowing them, fully, is unbeknownst to me. How you can trust someone without having had every hope and desire fulfilled is another mystery. Is it possible - or even okay? - to love someone and not like them that much? Is it all right to decide you aren't sure you want to spend a lot of time with them for a while? But yet you'd like to know they're still around, still available, for when you do? Is it even fair?

All questions for a later moment, a quieter hour, a time when things in the past appear clearer than they do now.

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Heidi said...

Still here praying and thinking of you and your family. I appreciate your realness and honesty in your faith. You and your sweet Copeland have impacted so many people's lives through your amazes me to see how many lives have been touched by God through your lives. Thanks for sharing. I will continue to pray for you.

Rachelle said...

What an amazing insight you have through your pain. So true. I know I feel those same things about God, and have those same questions. But, wasn't quite sure how to put them into words. We found that same Proverbs verse, when trying to decide whether or not to adopt a little girl from China. That was over 2 1/2 years ago. We traveled to China this spring, to bring home our daughter. A blessing, but still a daily walk of faith. You are in my prayers. Thank you for your honesty in your writing.

Joy said...

(((hugs))) and prayers.

{Karla} said...

God is there even in the darkest moments. Sometimes we see The Son on the darkest of days.

I am continuing to pray.


Peach said...


As always, you give me reason to ponder, reason to wrestle with the questions on my own heart.

Thank you again for your honesty and the truth of your raw emotions spilling forth to share with us.

I have missed your posts, but I continue to pray every time the Lord puts you on my heart.

DeeDee said...

Boothe, your thoughts are vented correctly. But trust in the One who was walkig thru this close to your side. I remember the night my father died, I would walk thur the functions of getting ready to travel, and then fall to the floor crying out to God "where are You?"
The next day as I drove to pick up my husband (writing for Lifeway..a 6 hr drive that I didn't think I could do)I realized that God was right beside me. I had to go thru that pain alone. Like a good friend who lets you cry uncontrollable, God allowed you to be alone in your pain. He was there all along quietly waiting to help you stand. He knew you (and I) had to go thru the pain alone, but He never left our sides! Praise God!
As for church , we go not b/c it is only fun, but b/c we are joining w/other believes in worship. So that we "make a sweet smell offering to His nostrils" as the OT says!

Your family is still suffering from your loss. (I to lost a child early in life.) Hang in there, do not turn life of faith into legalism, but rather turn life into a daily obedient all that you have for that day over to a great and might God.

You have many lifting you up and I know that you count that a blessing! When you do go back to church...remember that many of us out here in "web-land" are right behind you!
Joy, Debi O

Greg said...

I've had times of feeling nothing, exactly as you stated it. Sometimes I wonder if my little Olivia ever really existed. I think that in some moments my sadness is just too painful so I just blitz out. I'm thinking of you. Love, Shannon

Mari-jane said...

I was going to post the lyrics to Faith Hill's new song "Red Umbrella" but didn't want to take up too much room. It says alot for me where I am in my grief right now, and says Even God needs to cry sometimes.. my faith has faltered, but I want to believe He has cried with me, my pain has been His pain too. I want to believe that, I need to believe that.. because grief takes so much away from us. You echo so much of what the past couple of years have been for us. I don't think it gets "easier" over time, I think we get better at handling our grief. The best to you & yours Boothe. Thank You for sharing and reminding me what faith is all about!

Carly McWhirter said...

Your words have let me speechless. We will continue to pray that you will feel God's love as you walk this journey.

We think of Copeland everyday. Her life has been such a blessing to so many. We love you.

Amy said...


I've been visiting your blog, daily, for several months. My heart has been broken by your loss and the trials that the Lord has allowed in your life.

As I sat here reading your words, I glanced up at the wall in front of me. Several years ago, my husband commissioned Jim Sheridan at Hatch Show Print to create a custom piece of art for my Christmas present. What stared off as just one piece, turned into a series of four. They are truly spectacular.

The pieces were created around a list of words, phrases, places, names and dates that are significant to us. They speak of our life here in Franklin, our deep faith in the Lord and precious memories from the past. These words were pressed into the paper and then hand inked over the top. Three of the pieces have a very artistic feel to them... the words are the background for the blocks and splashes of color on top. The fourth piece is different. The words have been inked in true Hatch Show Print style. This piece hangs alone in my den, directly in front of my favorite spot to sit.

Boothe, in bold letters at the bottom of this piece are the words "HOPE DEFERRED, LONGING FULFILLED." My husband included these words as a result of our own longing for more children.

My husband and I have been blessed with a beautiful six year old son that we adore. We have tried, unsuccessfully, for 5 1/2 years to expand our family. For some unknown reason, God has not fulfilled our longing.

Over the years, I have found myself fluctuating between times of complete despair and and times of total trust in the Lord. I have wrestled with a nagging desire to try and prevent my son from growing up alone. Through it all, I have been amazed by the overflow of hope that continues to well up inside of me on a daily basis. I've often found myself wondering why I haven't just given up. Why I continue to pray for another child. Why I continue to hope.

Several years ago, as I was reading my Bible, I came across this passage of scripture.

Lamentations 3:21-26 "This I recall to my mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. 'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul, 'Therefore I hope in Him!' The LORD is good to those who wait for Him, to the one who seeks Him. It is good that one should hope and wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord."

Those words bring such encouragement to my heart. It is truly good to hope in the Lord!

God may never fulfill my longing. I may never have another child. I have reached a point in my life where I am at peace with that possibility. That said, I don't believe that this is what all that hope stuff is about. I think that God has used hope to teach me... to mold me into the woman that He desires me to be. He is using it to build up my spiritual muscles. I wouldn't be the woman that I am today had my desires simply been granted. My hopes have been deferred... yet I continue to hope that my longings will be fulfilled.

I am praying for you.

Rebecca said...

::: hugging Boothe :::

Elizabeth S said...

This is a perfect post. I learn so much from you, from your honesty. Please don't feel like you have to apologize for not posting. We are still here and still praying for you and your sweet family in this time. I am sure Sellers was the most beautiful princess last night!

Rocks In My Dryer said...

Your ability to articulate such honest and painful and yet beautiful thoughts...well, it leaves me speechless. And blessed. God BLESS you for your honesty, for not trying to be "perfect".

I would imagine it's very cold comfort sometimes, but God is being so profoundly glorified by you.

heather said...

thank you for the reminder of the verse in proverbs- that small light on the verse was profound for me. and "how can God be so there, and yet so absent" has brought me to tears. i have had many dissapointments this year, including 2 miscarriages. this was a statement that seared my heart so strongly with it's truth that i had to catch my breath.

i appreciate every word you write. each thought you share has been profound for me. thank you for sharing yourself

Spencer/Schwarz Family said...


A good friend never has to apologize to good friends. Remember, they are there through thick and thin. I know that for you most of us that post are "cyber-friends", but that doesn't really change a thing. I truly believe that God meant for all of us to meet you and become your friends so we could hold you up and encourage you when you needed it most.

Your post once again left me speechless and wishing I had the same wisdom and ability to reflect as you....for that I thank you!

I trust that you took your trip to Texas and that it was somewhat comforting to you. I pray that you and Conor continue to hold each other and love each other during this difficult time. As for Sellers and being a princess, I am absolutely positive that she was the most beautiful princess in your neighborhood!

Praying specifically that you may find something today that gives you the hope you desire and the feeling that God is truly with you and holding you in his arms.

Love from KY

Anonymous said...

I am praying for you still. I think of you daily and I am encouraged that you have written again :)

Laurie said...

Hi Boothe,

Please do not apologize to anyone out here who supports you in prayer and encouragement. The only expectation I have is that the Lord continues to keep your hope alive as you walk forward with Him in faith and that He holds the broken pieces of your heart safe in His hands. You are doing so good in this struggle and I do not mean that lightly. You are doing what you need to do to get through, seeking God and asking Him for the answers you desire to know. And I think it is okay with God that we can love Him with all our hearts, yet not like what He has allowed at the same time. Keep seeking Him Boothe and your hope will expand in the direction it needs to grow. He loves you dearly, even if at times it does not feel so. Draw close in love, the three of you, and feel His arms around all of you. You are still a family, shaken but not moved from His sight and protection. My prayers for you continue in your struggle and you give me insight into my own struggles, making me aware that there is always His Hope. Bless you today and always.

Love, Laurie in Ca.

sara said...

Just wanted to let you know that you guys are still in my prayers! You have been such a blessing with your honesty, openness, and continue to amaze me with your faith. Thank you so much for sharing your heart with us!!

Anonymous said...

still praying in Birmingham
Mary T. Miller

Anonymous said...


Funny that your blog entitled "not much to say" has SO much to say to me!

Thank you for being vulnerable to pen your thoughts and questions about life....that echo those in my heart!


kristin and matt said...

i read one of the other comments to this post, and they wrote exactly what i thought when reading your blog today - it is funny to me that you called this post "not much to say" because it says SO much to me, too. i was listening to a sermon on esther yesterday, and you came to my mind. i'm not sure if you'll agree with me, but it seems that this is your "esther moment" right now. YOU are speaking to all your readers right now. "for such a time as this." your honesty and vulnerability is truly refreshing, and has really drawn me closer to God. THANK YOU for continuing to post. even if you feel there is not much to say, you have spoken volumes to me.
still praying for you constantly.
kristin (etter) horlings

Julie said...

I think you are awesome for being able to put all these feelings, questions, fears into words. I lost my son at 8 days old and I know I felt all those same things, but yet struggled because I couldn't put it into words like you. Even if in my own head, it didn't make sense. Reading your words, 2+ years after his death, emotions that I didn't know I felt then surface. I didn't struggle with God and his purpose, I guess I took the easy road and just accepted that it was all His plan. I think it takes more courage and faith to actually doubt and question. I think you are doing just what you need to do to survive. Doubt, get angry, ask, and then hope. God has wonderful plans for your life. It isn't fair that we are the ones God uses to spread His news. It isn't fair that we suffer pain for others to experience His love. But it gave me comfort to think that God used me (and you). That God believed in me. God knew that I would hold tight to his truths and be an example to others. That is what you are doing today. And you do it well.

Julie Whaley

Kate said...

you certainly don't owe any of us an apology, although i amdit, selfishly, that i do miss when you don't post. you're words and insights really teach me and others. on another note, i am so happy to read that this might be the last halloween for just you, conor, and sellers! i was actually thinking about your family yesterday and wondering if you would try to have another baby after all the heartache you've endured over the last few years. i read a book called "when God winks on love" i can't remember who wrote it, but the author also wrote "when God winks" it is an amazing way to think about life and how God reaches out to us. The premise of the book is that what we think of as coincidences, aren't so at all, they are really God glancing at you from across the room winking at you, saying "you're on the right path, i'm here, i love you, i support you." it is such a freeing concept. i now love to frame those unexplained coincidences in life that encourage me as "God winks." all that said, i know you don't know me, but given your post yesterday and God placing your sweet family and future children on my heart, i thought i'd share this little God Wink with you. I hope you know how much you have blessed my life since June and maybe this short comment has helped to give you a little more hope. God bless you and your precious family.

Leanne said...

I remember those feelings. I remember looking down at the dirt that my baby went into and, for one crazy moment, I wanted to get down there too......I remember the young man who would take our daughter's body when he came into my hospital room, seeing him and thinking 'how am I going to give her to this man who will take her away from me?'........I remember the first three months after she flew Home, feeling so numb and saying, hey, if this is grief, this is easy. Then it hit.......

God is the God of all comfort (1 Cor 1:3-7). All of your words are not a surprise to Him. You will find Him where you least expect Him, and He will be in those odd places to comfort your soul, to give you strength, to help you take one more breath......

I am praying for you. You are part of a sisterhood now, close knit though not in touch all the time, close by yet flung far......

Keep questioning. Keep hashing things over with God. At least you're keeping the lines of communications open.

From one who's been where you are....

Leanne from Longview WA

Anonymous said...

Praying for you today and thankful for your post. You are ministering more than you will ever realize. May you have peace today.

Aunt Boo said...

I wish I could take your hurt away. I believe that it is OK to question. I myself question things that happen and how and why he "let" them happen.

I am glad that you have this outlet where you can be open and honest with us.

I am praying for you and your family!


Brandi (Angie's Friend) said...

I just wanted to let you know that I am praying for you every day. Please don't feel that you need to apologize to "us." Although I check your blog daily, and was glad to see a new post from you so that I might know what is going on in your life, I would not want you to feel that you are obligated to write for the benefit of your readers. We read because we have grown to love you and to sympathize with you. We will pray for you whether you post or not. In Christian love,
Brandi in Cordova

Anonymous said...

I don't know you at all, so I am hesitant to be presumptuous and say anything that might verge on advice rather than encouragement. However, our pastor preached a sermon that you might like about a month ago. You can find the mp3 online (Sept 16: Faith & Doubt):

This was right after Mother Teresa's book of personal letters came out, revealing that she struggled with doubt. Our pastor preached on Thomas and talked about her a lot, and he ended up saying that questioning the Lord is a natural part of being a Christian and actually stamps your authenticity as a believer because you are, at the very least, honestly searching.

Reading your post just made me think of this. Best, Lauren

Erin Weston-Myers said...

Aaron and I are still praying for you Boothe. Love in Christ,

Corinne said...

We are praying for you as you journey down this road....

Emily said...

I get it. And I'm still lifting you up.

Anonymous said...

Boothe, I check your blog daily looking for words of wisdom, honesty and love for our Lord Jesus Christ. I am never disappointed when I read your words. I find myself going back and rereading past entries. Thank you so much for your honesty and for helping me grow in His Word. I am praying for the Farley family and will continue to do so.
Tampa, FL

Tracy said...

Wow. You are so good at putting your thoughts and feelings into words.

You WILL make it through this. You WILL be happy again. Just keep doing what you are doing. Take one day at a time. All of your questions will be answered in time.

The Allen Clan said...

have missed you.. send us a pic of sweet sellers trick or treating!

Teabo Chica said...

Boothe, I stubbled on your blog today, and tears rub down my face as I read your pain. I lost my Hudson a year ago to Partial Trisomy 1 he was three months. There are days you look at the mirror and wonder who is staring back at you, who is this? Will my joy ever return? In due time, you will never be the you that you have known, but soon, you will smile without feeling guilt, My prayers are with you.

Anonymous said...

Definitely still here, still praying for you & thinking of your family often..

sarah said...

You have such a gift with words. I often read what you have written and think, "ya that's it, that is what it feels like." You testimony is real and fresh. Thank you for sharing your heart!

The Rogers said...

My name is Martha Rogers. Pat Ward told my mom and I about your blog. I have been reading for a long time but have never had words to express how much my heart aches for you and Copeland. Copeland left too early having felt your touch and knowing your kiss on her face. I am so thankful for her that she was able to be held by you and that she knew her mama's love outside the womb. I have cried and begged God for you and your heart as you endure life without her. ALthough we have not met, I want you to know that I pray all day long for you. May the Lord draw near and reveal the things you long to know. Martha

Anonymous said...

Once again, thanks so much for taking time to share your thoughts and feelings for others who look on your life story from the sidelines and participate only by listening and praying. You have a true gift and I am hoping you will continue to share, when you can, and even consider putting it all together in book form, some day. Every entry in your blog has spoken to me. I haven't lost an infant (one miscarriage with my first pregnancy), but I have wrestled with God a lot since my eldest son was molested. I still love God deeply, but your words remind me of how the pain often makes it difficult for me to see Him and difficult for me to even want to sit with Him. Church became very difficult. In fact, the response of others in our church was difficult. How to bear the double pain when other parents began to then shun my child from playdates and sleepovers, fearing somehow that the horrible thing which befell my child might influence their child. I believe that God understands my doubts (it makes me think there should be another verse in the Bible about going through the valley of the shadow of doubt - because perhaps it feels as dark as death feels). He understands them as a parent understands a child's limited understanding of situations. In fact, I relate to God on a whole new level since I became a parent. I know the intensity of my parent heart and I have to believe that His parent heart is capable of even more profound sentiments and longings. Please continue to let us walk beside you. Please continue to share the doubts as well as the tiny glimmers of hope and faith. You are a beacon of light to so many of us. We continue to lift your family in prayer and ask His continued blessings for you.

Anonymous said...

Love you Boothe, so glad to hear from you.

Anonymous said...

Whew, deep stuff there for someone who doesn't have much to say. I have never lost a child, but have had secondary infertility for years. I vacillate between wanting to hope and just wanting to be over it (wanting more children)--much that you said resonated within my own ponderings. The Bible says that "hope does not disappoint," yet I feel that I DID hope and it did not play out LIKE I hoped. There is also a type of grief in this situation--not the true physical loss of a loved one like you have experienced, but a "dying" of sorts of your dreams and pictures of what your family would look like. I will have to think more on the things you said. In the midst of your own loss, you have ministered to so many. Keep up the good fight.
Lori in VA

Anonymous said...


I will pray for you and your family. We lost our Kelly in June to trisomy 18 and I feel some of the same struggles you are going through.
Life is such a journey. I know God has great plans for you and your family and for Copeland. His will is often not our will and it is so hard to accept that.
We have had many pregnancy complications and did adopt one of our children from Africa. He is such a blessing and would not be with us if it wasn't for the love of his birth mother and the struggles we went through.
May you feel some of His peace and love as you struggle....Blessed are those who mourn.

anne marie lillwitz

Amy said...

Dear Boothe,

Thank you for posting. It is so truly inspiring to read each word and know that someone, somewhere is being ministered to by your ability to put your thoughts, feelings and emotions into such words. And you don't need to apologize. We are here standing by to lift you up along this journey. I have been praying every day for your precious family. Having a young daughter myself, I often think of little Sellers throughout the day and how she is doing with life after loss. I'm glad she got to be a princess yesterday! I'm sure she was the belle of the ball!

As I was reading your blog, the words to a worship chorus come to my mind and I thought I'd put them in:

"You are my strength when I am weak,
You are the treasure that I seek,
You are my all in all.

Seeking You as a precious jewel,
Lord, to give up, I’d be a fool,
You are my all in all.

Jesus, Lamb of God, worthy is Your name;
Jesus, Lamb of God, worthy is Your name.

Taking my sin, my cross, my shame,
Rising again, I bless Your name,
You are my all in all.

When I fall down, You pick me up,
When I am dry, You fill my cup,
You are my all in all."

I am so encouraged each time I read your writings to dig deeper in my own faith - thank you for that gift. I will most definitely continue to seek the Father on your behalf. Continue to seek Him, too, dear Boothe, and take care of yourself, your dear hubby and precious little girl. We will stand in the gap for you.

Love and prayers,
Amy in Cincy

Baby Leino said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Baby Leino said...

I've been thinking of you much lately. Though our journeys were different, I ache for you as your experiencing this new grief that I do am learning in my life.

You're a brave woman, Boothe. We never set out to be heroes or inspirations. But as He gave us little treasures in broken, clay vessels, He's molded us into ones as we've choosen to believe God at His Word. Would we trade in all for one more moment w/our children? In a heartbeat! However, in His love, He turns even the darkest of journeys to His good.

I'm praying for you faithfully. Our littlest darlings are gone. The pain, more than we imagined. And God's love, greater than we ever dreamed & His grace more than enough. One step at a time, friend: you're making it through.


Marcie said...

I just keep lifting you up....
Thinking of you and praying for you often in Canada!

bernitasheets1955 said...

Wow, once again I am moved to tears and overwhelmed with the incredible way that you express the things I have thought and felt and had now words to express. That's how I feel. Thanks again.

Kaye said...

When you have no idea how you got to this day. One so far away. That is God. That is "The one set of foot prints in the sand." All my love. And all our prayers. Kaye

Sandra said...

Dear Boothe, Yes. It is okay to not like God and still love God. It is even okay to ignore God for awhile while still loving God. When I was in grief over the death of my parents -- who died when I was young -- I spent years ignoring, being angry and even sometimes hating God. Finally, a pastoral friend pointed out to me that through all that time I also loved God. A light bulb went off and I realized that what she said was true and that one of the reasons I hurt so much is because I felt betrayed by the One I love. Thanks for the insight and verse about hope -- that really opened up a world of thought to me. Hang in there.

Sun said...

Someone once told me when I was hurting beyond what I thought I could - it is darkest before dawn.

We are praying. You are precious and honest. I am so sorry.

Gigi said...

I am in the grief with you. Last year I had to walk away from 4 foster sons I loved dearly. A lot of sludge had to filter out before I could begin to feel a bit thankful for God's provision through it. Your words reverberate in my soul and bring me some clarity. Your raw honesty inspires me not to put my head down the sewer of denial. I pray courage for you to continue to lay it all out there...leading us in this crazy Christian sub-culture that says God is only good when things can be wrapped up and a bow put on top.

Anonymous said...

I wept as I read this post (many of the times I have wept with and for your precious family). Hope does not disappoint us because he has poured out his love into our hearts through the holy spirit (that's somewhere in Romans... perhaps 5). Hope. Hope eternal. Hope. Even without emotion, there's always hope. And while you live in emotionless, let others hope for you. Allow them to feel the emotion and carry the burdens. Christ be with you... always.

Anonymous said...

just stopped in to say hello, wondering how you're doing today.

Kim said...

Praying for you...

I am so thankful for the insights you are giving even in the midst of what must be unspeakable grief.

Anonymous said...

Boothe, you ask the very same questons that I have asked myself! How refreshing to know that I am not alone.

What I am missing no where near compares to yours...but it is my own personal struggle. I know the hope and aching you speak of and, oh, how it can bring you to your knees.

I've reached the point where I don't know what to do or feel anymore. So I just stand and wait. I feel God tugging at me and I'm not sure what it is that I am waiting for...I know I must move, but I am at a loss as to where to go.

Anonymous said...

Your comments on hope ring so true. Yet, I know that God is working. I'm still praying for you and your family.

JUST A MOM said...

LOOK AT YOU,,, I didn't forget you jsut been a bit busy. I still think of you often and pray that God will hold your hands as you sift through your days. I am glad to see you are still writting and that you have changed the look of your blog I love it.

off to do the things I have to do.

So Blessed said...

Praying for all of you and trusting our precious Father's promises to comfort and sustain you during your journey of grief.

Anonymous said...

Dearest Boothe,
I use to read your words from Southern Exposure. You have the amazing gift of writing.(Julie McClellan is my sister-in-law) My daughter also attends Otter Creek and now I can put a face with it all.
I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for sharing Gods word.
I am so thankful God has made me look at your blog. I can hear him talk to me sometimes.
I am so sorry for the loss of you sweet baby Copeland.
I do pray that you will enjoy this Thanksgiving with Sellers (she is a treasure and very sweet girl, she came to my class a couple of times at FBC) and your husband very much.
Thank you also DeeDee, WOW, powerful words.