'The Emma', 'The Jenna' and An Update

First of all, for those who participated in the January drawing and my challenge from over a week ago, I'm sorry for the delay. I got swamped this past week and have now started to get organized again. I'll be posting the winners of the January drawing tomorrow morning and reporting on the 'challenge' from a week and a half ago.

This blog post is dedicated to 3 beautiful people who have been in my thoughts a lot recently; My mom, Emma and Jenna. 3 people who have taught me, in the recent years, the powers of prayer and quiet support. To celebrate the amazing beautiful people they are, I created a couple of little somethings.

First of all,
"The Emma" Cupcake
(Made with Sunshine Yellow Birthday cake,
topped with Champagne Pink Frosting and garnished with a few precious little surprises.)

Emma was blessed by her Daddy one week ago today, but her story began many months before that.

Her sweet family and many, many people who already loved her were eagerly awaiting her arrival. Her parents and brother were making preparations for her birth and it was clear that this baby was coming to a family who'd lasso the moon for her.

Good things were happening for their family as they juggled day to day life like pros and Mommy danced that dance all Mommies do. They were even in the process of moving.

Then the unimaginable happened.

A lot us got an email that morning. I'm sure many of us had the same reaction:
Stomach Drop
Head Spinning
"She can't be born now. She's not ready."
30 weeks is too young.

It would be interesting to know how many knees dropped to the floor that day on behalf of that beautiful little baby, the tears that were shed, the hearts that ached for Timi and Cory and Jace.

The news only got worse.

More Prayers.

More frantic phone calls to closest friends, those who'd know best how to help.

Even more pleas for divine intervention.

More news, sometimes better, sometimes worse.

We were all clambering to know the latest, willing to mobilize, to act anyway we possibly could.

Days

Weeks

Months went by

And finally, she was 'out of the woods'.

Even now, it's just now becoming clear how close we came to losing our new little friend.

And yet, one week ago, as her Daddy held her in his arms, she was given a name and a blessing (common practice for babies born in our church). The words he spoke were sacred and beautiful. She's destined for greatness. She will continue to spread sunshine and happiness everywhere she goes. She's less than a year old but has already made a mark, teaching people to love and to have faith in power greater than their own.


About a year before, on the opposite side of the country, another sweet family faced a starkly similar scenario.

This is "The Jenna" Cupcake
(Pure White Vanilla cake,
topped with a swirl of Angel Kiss frosting and sweet summer berries)

It was years ago in Oregon when I met my friend Michelle. From the moment I met her, I knew she was kind, innately good and had a heart of gold. As years went on, we went on our adventures. Periodically, I'd check in with her family just to say hello.

Joy of joys! A year and a half ago, I discovered that she and her new husband lived in Utah about 45 minutes away AND we were both expecting our babies.

Ruby was suppose to be several months older.

But Jenna came 10 weeks early.

Oh how we prayed! We prayed for her and her Mom-who was dealing with complications of her own, and her sweet, gentle Daddy. We prayed for her grandma and grandpa who were states away when they got the news (I can not even imagine what they must have gone through!)

That precious baby with crystal blue eyes has been a fighter from the start. She fought hard. She has her Momma's strength, her indomitable spirit.

Jenna stayed in the NICU for months. Her Mommy's arms must have just ached for her baby.

Being so close, I wanted desperately to do something to help.

But what?!

I ended up bringing them a loaf of bread. I couldn't help but thinking for a moment, "What a measly offering considering everything they were going through!"

That kind of thinking is wrong.

My offering, the small loaf of bread, the prayers specifically for them, the messages of encouragement; they can be enough when there is absolutely nothing more we can do to help the people we love when they are dealing with life's swift jabs to the breadbasket.

Naturally, we want to ease their pain or even better, take it away.

Sometimes we can't...most of the time we can't.

It's not in our power, no matter how hard we try.

But we can do something.

What we can give is unique to who we are. We each have gifts that can ease another's burden-even if we can't take it away.

Perhaps it's taking cupcakes to nurses who are caring for loved ones.

Or

Making food for a spouse keeping a lonely vigil by a hospital bed.

Or

Maybe it's painting the toes of someone so pregnant they can't touch their feet.

Or

Perhaps it's offering loving words to frightened friends awaiting word on whether or not a parent is very sick...most amazingly, offering empathy and love while some of you are dealing with your own devastating loss as a result of such a vicious disease. (Girls, you know who you are. Your ability to truly buoy up others is a tribute to your character).

Sometimes it's giving an anxious family member, living across the world, something to read by regularly blogging while awaiting a possibly life altering diagnosis.

Which brings me to my Mom.

Friday night I heard the best words we could have hoped for. It's benign. Even more, in spite of the preliminary findings of a few weeks ago, the mass has not infiltrated the surrounding organs. It appears the removal procedure will be minimally invasive...uh, as minimally invasive as removing a mass from, well, never mind. You get the idea.

So tonight I ponder the power we have, as creatures with the capacity to love.

We also have the power to act.

Inevitably, in this world of ups and downs, sometimes we're up and sometimes we're down.

I can think of little else that will transcend us from a nominal, menial life than to use our individual gifts to lift those around us.

When the blows come to us, the treasures of those efforts come full circle as those we lift, in turn, lift us.

Thank you for your prayers and support for my mother in the past weeks during the waiting game. There are so many people, regardless of distance who I feel more connected to than ever.

Your friendship is priceless.

Thank you for sharing your remarkable gifts.

Now go have a blessed week.