My apologies for such distance between blogs. I forget that not everyone has Facebook. Also, before all of this, I was actually a terrible blogger. I rarely updated my blog, and only had like 5 viewers anyway. It feels like a lot of weight to have to think of something important to say, worthy of putting up for all to read. The truth is, I have not had much I have either needed, wanted, or thought to express here lately. I can’t bring myself to just talk for the sake of talking, which, if you know me, probably strikes you as odd. I’m generally not without words I would say to a fault. I guess to a certain extent, at what point do I stop writing specifically about this chapter of our journey? There is a sense in me that 2009 will have been the most monumental year of our entire lives. It will be the first thing I would love to chat with Jesus about when I walk through the gates. I think the word “monument” serves well. I have been chewing around with this idea the past few years, not that it is mine.
In the Old Testament, the nation of Israel built monuments to remind them of something significant God had done in their midst. Often stacking and organizing stones, writing songs, or creating feasts and festivals were the mediums they chose to articulate and create something memorable so that they would never forget where they were, were they had been, and where God taken them. This concept has fueled most of my art. I will find myself in some kind of context, a conversation, an experience, and then attempt to put words and thought around something I see God doing. What is crazy is that it started to feel like all I ever did was articulate pain in my songs. I found myself in all of these settings with really broken and hurting people, trying to put language to what they were feeling. In hindsight, it feels like one big ground swell leading up to my own devastating experience this year. All of that to say, we have tried to make monuments in our hearts to God during this time. I hope and pray that this blog has in some way done that. However, I don’t want to stack stones forever. I want to stack them, and then I want to take my family, hold fast to them, and humbly walk forward together.
On the other hand, I love to say “Titus”. It is an honor to speak of him, and as the days go, there are less and less and less and less contexts wherein someone might utter that name. That carries a sorrow and a deep penetrating sadness that simply is. I think of him often. We speak of him often. We will always speak of him. He is our first born son. Keane gets to be 1st and 2nd born, and our next child will be our 3rd born. It will be an interesting thing to try and explain to all of our kids. I hope you know that it is okay to talk about Titus. We still own stuff that people bought for us that was Titus’, and have now been passed on to Keane. These are good, healthy ways for us to operate and live. The healing power that the Spirit has is simply tremendous. We miss Titus. There are so many physical attributes that we got to experience in holding him that we miss, that are forever branded in our minds. He had Renee’ features and C.J. features. They are etched in. Remembering them hurts so good.
I have come to love what we used to call triggers. Triggers are a way we often describe something that makes us remember something painful or scary. It often carries a negative connotation, such that when one of us says “I was triggered today”, the other one immediately fears the ramifications. This has been an exciting, soul-saving, eternal paradigm shift for me personally. Throughout each day, there are tons and tons of moments that make you remember. It becomes difficult because people naturally don’t continue to think about how the conversation that is happening might make us feel about losing our son. We don’t blame anyone for this. It is normal. You have more and more encounters with new people who don’t know your story. When someone I know has experienced a tragedy, I carry it with me for a good while, it affects everything. But at some point, it stops really affecting me the way it really affects them. We have a lot of days that feel like we are back in week 2. Pretty interesting. The thing is, though, we are coming to fear these things less and less, and don’t view them as attacks, we view them as gifts. We don’t find ourselves saying, “I was triggered”, instead we say, “that made me remember”. And neither of us ever want to stop remembering. I used to push painful memory away at all costs, more and more, I enjoy and look forward to my next “Titus moment”. I had one a few weeks ago.
Where I lead worship, we do 5 services a weekend. That is a lot. It is hard to be full engaged emotionally, spiritually, and physically for each one. I was in the middle of a set I think in the 3rd or 4th service, singing the words to “You’re Beautiful” towards the end, “When we arrive at eternity’s shores, where death is just a memory and tears are no more, we’ll enter in as the wedding bells ring, Your bride will come together and we’ll sing, You’re beautiful”. There is a family in our new community that we have really connected with in a short time. They know what pain is. They sit in the front row each week on my right hand side. They lead me in worship very often from where they stand each week. They are safe people, people I trust. I looked over at them while singing that song and it started to come. It took everything in me not to just stop everything I was doing and curl up in a ball right there. Luckily, that song ended moments later and Mark, our lead pastor, came up to teach. I walked off the stage, straight to the one room on campus I knew would have no one in it, closed the door behind me, turned off all of the lights, kneeled to the floor, and wept for my baby, my son, my “T”. It was so awesome. It felt so amazing. I praised God for how He, in His infinite wisdom, created me with the capacity to feel, to express, and to engage in reality. Triggered? No. Prompted by God? Yes. Spoken to by God, comforted, heard, held? Yes.
How is it that God has raised my capacity to worship Him? I don’t get it. I am humbled by Him.
At some point, Renee’ and I will probably think about starting from the beginning of our journey, 2003, from the moment of our very first miscarriage, I remember where I was standing, and write all the way through 2009. Our goal will be to write a narrative that includes a Biblical theology of suffering and pain. The blog will be kind of a model for how we go about this. We have never even thought about doing something like this before so if you would, pray for us that if God would call us to do something like that, that He would make that known to us. We haven’t found a lot of helpful stuff out there, and would like to help others who have experienced this kind of thing.
Keane is getting more precious by the minute. He is following our movement, smiling at us, and threatening to sleep for longer than 3 hours in a row. Threatening, but not executing. He loves boob, it fixes everything. I try to make my finger work as long as I can so mom can become sane for 5 seconds. Renee’ is frieking mom of the century. She is like a walking encyclopedia, but humorously still asks me my opinion constantly. The other day when Keane was starting to show signs of getting a little bug, she goes “Don’t you think his cry sounds different?” I’m like, “uhhhhh”. I could see that the answer was yes, but not because I knew it was yes, at that point I was operating purely on reading my wife’s tone and expression. I told her I will give her my input on babyness as long as she knows I know I’m an idiot and know absolutely nothing about what is right or necessary for Keane. I will teach Keane to sword fight with his urine, that’s my expertise. The best is when we go to the doctor and Renee’ starts engaging with them in a conversation that the doctor only has with other doctors. My wife’s amazing ability to mother our child is the sexiest thing I have ever seen. Seriously. I just thank God all day long that my wife is so on it. She knows everything, about everything. It’s awesome.
We are having a blast, and feeling life start to fill our blood again. We love you all. We love how loved our boy(s) is(are). Thank you for taking care of us, coming alongside us, holding us up in prayer, paying for us to have our son Keane, being the body of Christ, being our community. If 2009 is not what God had in mind when He set the redemptive plan of the cross in motion, I don’t know what is. It is a monument to the glory and beauty of the one true God, the name above all names, Jesus Christ. In Him rests all our hope, affections, and the deep longings our hearts. We will continue to seek Him, know Him, and worship Him. If you do not know Jesus, please choose to humbly submit to His authority and make Him the Lord of your life. We love you deeply and want you to know the peace that comes from having a relationship with the God who created the universe and knows you intimately.
“Hope deferred makes the heart grow fainter, more dim with each passing day.
I did not ask for this to be my story if the chapters are all full of my pain.”
“You said write a Psalm so this is the beginning, the part where I say I’m drowning.
But at the end You will change my mind, write history with the blood I am bleeding.”
“Come along child and wait for me, I’m not done shaking.
Stop looking for a place to stand just fall down on your knees.”
– CRK
