Author: Anita Hochstetler

I'm a country girl at heart who loves coffee shops and bookstores, simplicity and the great Big Wonderful World...particularly Northwestern Montana and it's familiar spots and untamed beauty. It is where I fell in love with my husband Stephen. We brought three children into this world in the following years. Stephen is quiet and steady and crazy all in one handsome combo. He’s got an amazing brain and keeps my flights of fancy from blowing us away. Kierra , our Wildflower child, was diagnosed with NCS before she was a year old. It is an extremely rare genetic disorder with no cure. She passed away in January of 2014 at 3 1/2 years old. Kobe joined us 15 months after his sister and is our sensitive, math whiz child. He is kindhearted and loves the finer things of life. He talks about Kierra often and longs to play with her again. Kyrell is our youngest. Our Hope child. He charges through life with a dynamic spirit and lots of smiles. I share my heart here on these pages and pray they will bless souls far and near.
Mother’s Day and Grief
Uncategorized

Mother’s Day and Grief

Anita Hochstetler5 Comments

“Let us then with confidence 

Draw near to the throne of grace

That we may recieve mercy 

And find grace  to help 

In time of need.”

Hebrews 4:16

Sometimes life comes at you like a train wreck and you feel an inevitable collision headed straight for your heart. Time marches on and has no mindfulness of stepping aside and tiptoeing around pain. So I am learning to tip toe.

Mother’s Day is just a few days away and I have had a rough week to be totally honest. This past week has been full of exceptionally wonderful times even as I slug through emotional lows and grief. I strained an arm muscle last week and it has been a nagging ache ever since, my shoulders hurt from doing a rock job that I plan to write about later since I learned some really valuable lessons, working in dirt and rocks for hours on my knees, I have bruises on my legs from unidentifiable times and while I was cleaning up the back yard, I backed into an ugly,nasty ,sharp tree branch that was waiting to be turned into fire wood. My wheelbarrow load of extremely heavy soil and weeds tipped over and took me with it. I have nasty scratches on my legs that sting. I was baking huckleberry scones and the parchment paper slid off the pan into the 450 degree oven and I burned every finger down to the phalanges. Well, not quite 🙂  my four year old had meltdowns for strange reasons this week and he ate dates out of a bulk food bin at the store. He has an abscess in his mouth and hid behind me, jumping away from my hands when ever I tried to catch him in the Dr. office. 

Physically I was a wreck. My hormones were screaming at me. My muscles ached and my bones were ‘like water’….-(King David). I was so cold and I couldn’t get warm. This seemed to drag on all week long. Not a pretty picture for Mother’s Day. 

But there was a saving grace. I felt God near. I had dinner with a friend who spoke words of life and prayed for me. I got a hug from a beautiful soul I had never met before. She put her arms around me and held me while I cried because I missed Kierra so very much. I had little messages of Gods love and grace sprinkled through every day. I felt so very loved and blessed, while I felt so weak and helpless.

Grief is tricky and you can’t always predict what  will trigger an emotion or a memory. But you can learn to slow down. To breathe. To tip toe. To take time to acknowledge how you are feeling. To be OK with that feeling. I am learning to take that emotion to Jesus. Just telling Him, “I don’t know why I’m feeling like this right now, but I am. I need You!” takes the pressure off myself and my feeble attempts to analyze and fix myself. I can never fix myself but My Father has the perfect solution to every single thing I face. So I rest my case in His love.

For years, I struggled with accepting compliments. To often there was a barrier in my mind like a 10 ft wall, 3 foot thick. I deflected words of kindness and compliments. I turned my mind into denial mode. Instead of allowing encouraging words to bless me and build me up,  I chose to look at my faults and short comings by adding thoughts in my mind like, “if you only knew…” Somehow, in a weird way, I think I was trying to be the be the perfect Mommy in order to fill in the aching gaps in my life. Human perfection and striving can never fill in the gaps. Only God’s grace, acceptance of life, and acknowledging Truth will filter light into those dark spaces. Genuine, beautiful LIGHT! 

Negative thoughts are always destructive. 

“I am not enough.”

“I am such a mess. No one knows how I act under pressure at home.”

” I will never be good enough.”

Those words are all so starkly true, and I came to the place that I realized my total brokenness and dependance on God. But. His grace and love and forgiveness came in and took that sin away. To continue thinking negatively and constantly refusing to accept words of life and blessing, causes patterns of more grief and confusions. That kind of grief is so wearying and wearing that no mommy can stand under it. 

This Mothers Day I want to celebrate the good God has placed in me. I want to thank every one of my friends for telling me that I was a good Mommy to Kierra. That I am a good Mommy to Kobe. I want to embrace the beauty God has placed in me. The love He has redeemed me with that calls me His daughter. His bride. I want to rest in the hands of the One who created my Mommy heart. I want to revel in how very loved I am. How I was fashioned and born from the heart of God. 

A Mother’s heart hangs onto impossible hope. 

It bleeds compassion. 

It smiles and laughs for the sake of the children when it wants to howl at the cold unfair world.

It gives when it is inconveniate and exhausted…

Because it is born out of the heart of God.

Birthed with struggle.

Birthed from pain. 

Birthed for beauty.

It is a strong heart that stretches down to the depths of earthly hell, physical death, gut wrenching heartache, and it rises to eternal hope and the realms of heavenly beauty.

It is bigger then us. 

Because it is born from the heart of God. 

We can’t control it.

We can’t understand it.

We can’t always follow it.

But we can GIVE it. 

It is created for Gods glory.

And it is beautiful.

“For everything comes from Him and exists by His power and is intended for His glory.  

All glory to Him forever!” Romans 11

No matter what situation you find yourself in this Mother’s Day, I want to ask you to simply BELIEVE!

Believe that you are loved. Beautiful. Gifted for your task. Cradled in God’s arms. He hasn’t forgotten you or overlooked your pain. He sees your struggle. You can simply rest in Him. He will fill in the hard places. He delights in you and accepts you right now, just the way you are. 

If you knew….really knew how MUCH God loves you, your insecurities would fade away. He loves you the most….because He is divine like that. 

Live like you are loved like crazy. Because you are!

And all through the day, tell Jesus how much you love Him!

  
  

A Child’s Grief
Grief

A Child’s Grief

Anita Hochstetler2 Comments

Kobe is four.

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A little over two years ago, he sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star at his older sisters bedside and kissed her for the last time on earth.

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Three year olds are too young to die and two year olds are too little to understand. But spring comes. Always. And Gods grace blooms In hard places.

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The past two years have had lots of seasons in our lives. I’ve heard that when kids turn 4 years old, they seem to suddenly be little people. I wasn’t so convinced. Kobe still seemed plenty little boy to me. Not that I want him to suddenly be a little man. I just didn’t see the grownup little man slipping in like I thought I would. Until recently.

Another friend told me that four year olds start making a connection with their heart and their brain. They become more aware of what they are feeling and actually start thinking through heart issues like fear, grief, happiness, birthdays….they start connecting the dots without realizing it.

It all makes much more sense. One of Kobe’s favorite sentences right now…
“So Mom,” settling into a chair beside me, face all serious and pleasant,”what was your favorite part of this day?”
He even asked the gentleman that we do lawn care for 🙂

But the other day he was really struggling. Nothing was going right for him. I was cleaning up his grand jumble of toys and treasures in his room and finding items that reminded us of Kierra. He was having meltdowns over stuff that he never even notices usually. Finally I took him to the kitchen and asked him what was wrong.

He literally was too overwhelmed to talk. He just shook his little shoulders in frustration and spread his hands out and buried his face in his hands. ” I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I…I…I…”exasperated sigh and more burrowing into hands.

I got out his big pad of paper and grabbed a pen. “Here,” I said, setting him on my lap. ” draw me a picture of your heart.” Then I waited a bit while he got his bearings. He drew hard and quickly.

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“There are tears in my heart.” He said.
“Why are there tears?”
” Because I miss God.”
So he drew a person with wings that could fly up and

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meet God.

After we talked some more I realized he also missed Kierra. He was upset that she got to be in Heaven and he wasn’t. He drew arms on his heart to reach up to heaven. Then he wrote this. ( with a bit of help with spelling:)

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We took it over to the window and held it toward the sky and asked God to let Kierra see it. Kobe was still not all sunshine but it seemed to help him to communicate what he was feeling.

I  am amazed at how much he misses Kierra right now. Its been over two years and somehow in my naive adult brain I thought he might be forgetting her. I actually feared he would.

But the heart never forgets. A mommy and daddy heart never forget and neither does a child’s.

I thank God for our beautiful complex brain. For our hearts that never forget.

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He wanted a picture of himself holding his ‘Bible’.
Oh! And one last funny four year old moment….
I was trying to teach him about personal space with ‘staying in your own bubble’. When we ride three in the front of our old GMC it can get a bit elbowy.
“But mom, ” he explained, ” I popped my bubble.”

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Rain and Rest
Healing Heart

Rain and Rest

Anita Hochstetler3 Comments

It’s raining today for the third day in a row. 

It’s a chili and coffee and blanket kind of day.

 
 
  
The sunny days of last week seem far away. The spring sun kissed glow on cheeks is fading too fast. Out my window , wild rabbits hop beneath pines while tulips pop with color along back yard fences.

Our crazy schedule of lawn care breathes and we gaze out the door at the drizzle and wonder when it will stop. I’m thankful for the rain. We need moisture in the mountains and plains to discourage the sparks that escalate wildfires. I find myself a bit stir crazy though. As if I stop too long I may think too much and if I think too much I may not be able to control myself. And if I can’t control myself I may be a mess. 

So I get a bit grouchy and think of things we should do. Crazy big things like car shopping. Crazy small things like organizing my cooking spices. Things that are waiting to be done and not going anywhere like laying our brick patio. Things like folding laundry and vacuuming the floor. Oh! And when my mind starts thinking about things it runs me down the guilt trip ally….like things  I should have done long ago-like send that encouraging card to that person, or remembered that birthday this year. I find myself wanting to panic with THINGS.

I take time to stop and look through Kierra’s last lovely photo albmn and I miss her so badly I ache. I get sad and lonely and I wish I could snuggle her again. Go back to that certain moment in time and relive it for real. 

I also remember. I remember the feeling of dispair and not being in control. I remember thinking I should plan fundraiser walks or sell t-shirts or wrist bands or DO SOMETHING to raise money for research for the clinic on NCS. I remember thinking if I could only do a little something to make all this pain and suffering mean more. As if I could bring value to it by planning a 5K or having her name on a foundation. It’s true. It would have meant so much to me to do something like that. There’s nothing wrong with that and so many wonderful, amazing foundations and fundraisers and awareness have been raised by people who took action and honored their pain and their children in this way. I am so thankful for that. But in that stage of my life, just keeping us all decent was about all I could handle.

I see a pattern here though, a desperate drive to do more, be more, mean more, busy myself more when life hurts. There is a balance somewhere and I don’t know that I’ve found it exactly. I’m thinking and praying about it. One of my passions of this year is to REST in God, like I blogged a few months ago.

In my restlessness today, I opened my Bible to Numbers. I’m working on reading the Bible through from cover to cover. The New Testament is delightful reading. The Old Testsament has me groping for meaning sometimes. Numbers 7 is like that. A lot of repetition and exact identical offerings that 12 men brought to the Temple. But at the end of the chapter was this verse and it blew me away.

“Whenever Moses went into the Tabernacle to speak with The Lord, he heard the voice speaking to him from between the two cherubims above the ark’s cover-

  the place of atonement-that rests on the Ark of the Covenant. The Lord spoke to him from there. (Italics mine)  

There is my word…rest. Atonement rests. 

Perhaps it is a default mode I tend to go into…making atonement for my imperfections and weaknesses by being busy. By planning more and becoming impatient with myself thinking of  the stuff that hasn’t gotten done and that should get done and that could get done. In a mixed up way I’m trying to make amends (if only in my mind). 

The amazing thing is that the place of atonement rests on the Ark of the Covenant. 

Covenant means the agreement in which God promised to protect Israel ( I put my name in there) if they keep His Law and are faithful. 

So while I am not  a Bible scholar, I am a Child of God, and I get this beautiful picture that I can scarcely wrap my mind around. 

The Good News or the Gospel of Christ is all about Christ.

It is the power of God at work….. This Good News tells us how God makes us right in His sight…..this is accomplished from start to finish by faith. Romans 1:16-17

I hear Gods voice-sense His presence in the place of REST, because everything about Jesus and salvation is believed by faith and faith takes trust and trust takes rest! He has made the atonement. He has promised to protect me with His Covenant. 

I just get a thrill when I think of it! 

Now I will go fold my laundry and yes, do the next pressing thing which includes helping set up for a Taco Supper at the local college, but I won’t allow my mind to go into a frenzy of stuff and default into trying to do and be more. Because In quietness and confidence is my strength….and that’s because the joy of the Lord is my strength!

Reign in me, Lord. I Rest.


Bend 
Nature Awakens You

Bend 

Anita Hochstetler1 Comment

I have driven past these amazing trees so often and am always amazed at their fortitude and strength. The wind in North Western Montana can be truly brutal, but that hasn’t stopped these them from growing. They have leaned with the blasts and defied my image of a tree. I have this crazy urge to salute when I pass them. Deep in my heart it’s the amazing Creator that formed their tiny seeds and sent rain and sun and wind that I am in awe of. They have learned to grow exactly where He allowed their seedlings to sprout and they are beautiful!   
We Bend but Do Not Break

The wind is constant.

A whisper, a croon or a roar.

Master of the open floor.

And we grow.

With the flow.

Of current airstreams through our boughs. 

We bend.

But do not break.
Stripped to the bare bones of our souls in winter.

We are OK with that.

The root of who we are, 

Anchored securely in the level earth.
For always. 

Always spring breathes gentle green and we awake. 

We bend

But do not break.
While seasons come and go 

Our beauty skewed and crooked. 

But still we reach toward Light 

And freckle shade on man and beast 

And point toward stars at night. 

  

Who says a tree is straight? 

When trunk and branch and root are one,

We reach deep down and stretch high up. 

And do not fret about our shape.
Our focus set on nobler things.

Like strength and fortitude and grace.

And  robins resting tired wings. 

Of children larking in our shade 

And strong men mopping sweat from brows 

While thanking God who made us.
We are a tree. 

The wind scars cannot rob our name.

Nor shake our core identity.

We are a tree.

We bend. 

But do not break.
  
 

When You Feel Blindsided
Grief

When You Feel Blindsided

Anita HochstetlerLeave a comment

It isn’t ‘just life.’

  
It isn’t ‘just the way things go sometimes’. It isn’t ‘just heartbreaking’. It isn’t ‘just this broken world’. 

Well, honestly, it IS all those things, but not JUST those things! It’s so very much more! Take a look at Calvery.

All that heartbreak, all that pain, all those aching questions. It wasn’t a surprise to Jesus that He would die. It didn’t take Him off guard when wicked men fulfilled prophecy and whipped Him and took His clothing and killed Him. It was horribly heartbreakingly sad.

 But life was not out of control. I’m sure it seemed like it was to Jesus’ mother. I’m sure she wanted to stop time and rescue Him from the worst nightmare she was forced to watch unfold.

She couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t take the suffering or the weight of the world away from Him. Did she understand that she was the one being rescued while her entire heart was breaking?

He saved others by NOT saving Himself. He brought hope by submitting to the worst pain and bearing the sins of the world. 

Recently, I have been reading Next Door Saviour by Max Lucado. His chapter on Jesus’ death brings out this glorious truth in much more detail. The bad things that happened to Jesus? They didn’t blindside Him. The wicked men that hurt Him with words and spikes and spears? Even  their wickedness was used to fulfill prophecy. 

God was still in control, when the entire world seemed to be spinning out of control. It didn’t make any more sense to the disciples then our own tails pins in life do to us. Hurt sends us reeling. Terrists rip apart families and horrendous things happen every day in this broken world. We are touched by the ooze of sadness and hurt and grief. It colors our minds and messes deeply with our emotions. 

  
It makes us gaze into the face of death and know we are helpless against it. My friend, your pain is not too much for Jesus! 

Just remember  that glorious day, three days later, when the tomb ripped open. When the angel appeared. When the Jesus who had cried, “It is finished,” spoke again.

Those life giving words,

 ” Greetings.” ( it’s root word means Joy! And hints at Peace)

 “Go.  And tell my brothers. ” 

I think He wants us to know, just as He wanted them to know…..

There was LIFE!

There was a whole world of hope about to open before their eyes. There was new life, new perspective, healing. There was a plan. The sadness would not win.

  
(Compiments of Michelle Beachy photography.)

It gives me hope. I do not understand why there is pain and death and suffering. But I know one thing…..it doesn’t blindside my Father. And as long as He’s not blindsided, He’s still in control. He is Always good. Always. He cannot change that ALWAYS GOOD. Ever. 

I praise God with Paul, ” But thank God! He gives us victory over….death through our Lord Jesus Christ!  So my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable! …..for you know that nothing you do for The Lord is ever useless!  (1Cor. 15) 

Wading through pain, holding a dying hand, listening to a heart break, loving when life doesn’t make sense, it is not useless!!

“I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born,” says The Lord.” Isaiah 66:9

Hold onto hope, my friend! Embrace that resurrection Son in your heart.

Come alive. Breathe in deep and slow. Dare to embrace your pain and feel the warmth of His promise. 

  

Thoughts On Life

Mid March Madness

Anita Hochstetler6 Comments

I was organizing and sorting  my life memories recently. You know how you come across an old photo or scrap of paper and it takes you back to an exact time and place. To an exact aroma or noise.

I’m glad we have memories. Because some of our memories, buried in the years of brain software, are just too funny not to pull up occasionally and laugh over. 

I just found one of those memories again and it was such a typical experience of my life.  I was sick with a head cold and larengitist one day, so I stayed home from school to rest and heal. I knew we had a test coming up the next day, and I really wanted to study for that test, so I called my teacher to ask him to send my text book home with my sibling.

My whole phone call turned into a disaster. With my croaky voice, there was no way he could know who I was. When he answered the phone, I said, ” Hello, this is Anita.”

“No, this is Bill. ” he replied. 

“This is Anita.” I repeated more firmly.

“No. This is Bill.” He repeated just as firmly.

I tried one more time. “THIS is Anita.”

“NO, this is Bill.” Came the steady reply.

Let’s just say I was too embarrassed by then to try to explain anymore of my predicament. I simply said “Bye.” And hung up the phone. No worries, his name wasn’t actually Bill 😉 

{I learned a lesson in phone etiquette and how to introduce yourself properly on the first sentence of speaking with someone.} 

I’m still laughing over it.

I suppose phones and me have had our battles, however, because several years later, I totally misunderstood a conversation. 

My Dad had advertised a ‘pickup head’ for the front of a combine (or was it a chopper). One of these heads that hungerly gobbles the field’s harvest of crops and feeds it back into the equipment. When a guy called to ask about the pickup head, I immediately envisioned a pickup truck in my mind. I promised to pass the message along to my Dad. That evening, I casually mentioned to him that a guy called about the ‘ truck front’ he had advertised. He looked at me like I was just a touch crazy. “I didn’t advertise a truck front! ” he said. “But I did advertise a pickup head.” 

It was my turn to feel truly a bit crazy. I don’t think I will ever totally live that one down. Hehehe.

I was a bit of a dreamer with my head in the clouds or my nose in a book. That brought me more then my fair share of embarrassing moments. When I was 8 years old, I forgot my new glasses in the morning and had to go a whole day at school without them. I thought I would die of embarrassment 🙂 

At about the same time in life, we were at a large family reunion with lots of grownup cousins that I barely knew. I stepped on my cousins flip flop and made her fall in front if a whole circle of guys. She fell not  once. But twice. And of course there was a comfortable chuckle. To us, it was the most embarrassing experience EVER! Our little girl minds thought we were marked forever. For months, and likely years 🙂 we would include ‘Remember?” In the notes we wrote each other. It was like we had this life altering experience that would forever scar our reputation.  I still smile over our little girl minds:) eventually we resorted to a “!” as a reminder of our survival story. And when we got old enough to face the ‘ big drastic things’ we totally dropped even “!”

When I was a teenager I went to church one Sunday morning with two different shoes on and didn’t realize it until I was walking down the isle. Yep. Embarrassing. 

I was one of those wordy people and would explain myself into an embarrassing  tangle of synonyms. Like the cat is a male or a he or a tom. When I could have simply said, “This is Sylvan.”

I loved horses, as many young girls do, and was rather bug eyed over anything western. When I eventually grew up enough to move west and teach school, I was thrilled to borrow a horse to ride. Turns out that READING about horses and actually RIDING them is a very different story. I sat in the Lane one day, on this stubborn horse that REFUSED to take a step. It was cold and windy and yep, embarrassing. Because my then, future husband,  drove by and there I sat. A sitting duck. On a horse. I don’t think he realized my predicament and before I could decide if I actually wanted to wave him down ( I didn’t know him well yet 🙂 he was gone with a wave. To this day, I’m not sure how I got that horse to move on home. It was a not so glamorous moment of my life. 

Please tell me you have all had those awkward moments on a stair case or isle of moving out of someone else’s way in the same direction they move, and you immediately both move the other way and it becomes an embarrassing dance. Or hugged someone and your glasses caught on theirs. Or reached out to shake hands and gotten your grasp all twisted up or your finger somehow bent at an odd uncomfortable angle. Or gotten your talk all mixed up. Or happened to be pointing the pressure washer hose at someone when it suddenly begins shooting water out with it’s fiercest blast and you hit them dead center and the total look of SHOCK that crosses their face and the total HORROR on your own. 
By now, you should know you aren’t the only one who does amazingly awkward things and finds themself in less then ideal situations. It’s not fun to be the one who is caught in so many awkward moments. And no, I didn’t mention my MOST embarrassing moment of all time. That one is truly too embarrassing.

Especially when you blush easily. 

But then again, we folks have more to laugh about and more stories to tell our  grandchildren when we are old and grey and wrinkled. 

If we can remember them, that is  🙂 

I would love to hear your funny stories! 

It’s mid March. Couldn’t we all use a good laugh or a bit of happy madness? 

Mom Life

When You Don’t Feel Like A Mommy

Anita Hochstetler4 Comments

The other day I said it out loud. Confirmation in my ear.

“I’m a Mom.”

As crazy as it sounds, I don’t feel like a mom. Or maybe it’s that I don’t feel like I expected a mommy to feel.

I asked my sweet cousin and friend the other day if she feels like a mom. She laughed the cutest laugh and said she sure does. 

It gave me hope that one day I will feel the same. 

Somewhere in the last five years, I have been something between a caregiver and a Mom. A big mix of both that sent my heart reeling a bit. 

When life hands you surprises it takes a while for ones heart to catch up to the truth.

Since I was a little girl, I dreamed of being a Mommy someday. I wanted 12 children. Preferably boys. Now my dreams have most certainly changed over the years, but being a mommy is still burned into my core. Like a nurturing ember that refuses to extinguish.

Being a Mom took on a whole new meaning in life when my expectations of motherhood were shaken to the core by a baby who cried for hours on end, rarely smiled or cooed unless she was alone, developed infantile spasms, had cortical vision impairment, and took 2 hours to drink 4 oz of formula. It all changed when that special little Wildflower Child spent weeks in the hospital and  endured medical procedures and countless sleepless nights. It wasn’t what I expected.

While it turned into beauty and grace and amazing love and connection, my heart told me I wasn’t really a mommy. Because didn’t ‘real Mommys’ talk about teething babies and blowouts and baby food? Didn’t ‘real Mommys’ go shopping for highchairs and trikes and toddler beds? Didn’t ‘real Mommys’ blow scraped knees and rescue little hands from the toilet? But’real mommy talk ‘….It was all a rather foreign language to me. 

While others looked at me and wondered how I survived, I ironically looked at them and wondered if I would have what it takes to be in their shoes. 

When our second child was born, 15 months after our Wildflower Child, I was totally amazed at how supremely easy he was. He drank. He ate. He slept. He was such a remarkable happy, easy baby that I still didn’t feel like a ‘real mommy’. 

I laugh at myself. My firstborn blows all my theories to smithereens and I don’t feel ‘real’. My second child is so happy and jolly that I don’t feel ‘real’. So what really IS real about Mommys?

I know I’m a Mommy. I have wonderful friends who are great Mommys. They seem REAL to me. Like the genuine Mommy stuff. I still struggle to relate to some of their REAL experiences. 

Now let me make it clear that they are wonderful and have been so supportive and are my heroines 🙂 

But underneath it all lies the ache that I missed out on a lot of my little guys babyhood. That other wonderful people changed him and fed him and made him giggle. It wasn’t that I never saw him. It wasn’t that he didn’t like me. It was simply that my mind was so preoccupied with his older sister’s immediate needs that I couldn’t be present in his life nearly all the time. That will always hurt. But it doesn’t make me less of a Mommy.

It’s a bit scary for me to write this. I feel like I’m opening a tender spot that I would rather hide and say it doesn’t exist. But honestly, it’s been burning a hole in my mind for the last few months. At first I kept pushing it down, hoping it would just kinda tunnel into my heart and stay there. But it kept raising it’s stubborn head over and over until I decided that once again….the truth will set me free 🙂 

If you are a mommy that wonders if you are legit. If you know a Mommy that is facing unusual circumstances. (Are there any TRULY usual ones?) if you are a Mommy doing your best to follow the heart of your Creator,    then this is for you….

You are a Mommy born out of the heart of God. 

Mommys aren’t a certain checklist of qualities and experiences. 

They are real in whatever circumstance they find themself.

They love and pray and cry and laugh.

They give and give and give. Even if that giving isn’t in the way they always thought it would be.

They take breaks. And if they don’t, they should 🙂

They HAVE what it takes in their situation…..in their EXACT situation. 

They are not called to be the Mommy next door or the Mommy at the park or the Mommy at the Doctors office with fifty eleven medications in tow. 

They are THE MOMMY! 

Because God has a special plan. A special calling and a special child for each single one of you. 

So take a deep breathe.

 Just be. 

Be the mommy God called you to be. And know that whether you have never gotten to hold your child, whether you have buried your child, whether you have one child, or whether your house seems to be overflowing with little hands and feet and hearts…

YOU ARE A MOM!

Love and hugs, my Mommy friends! 

……Anita, who is a Mom! 

Color Your World.
DIY Projects

Color Your World.

Anita Hochstetler1 Comment

Recently I was introduced to crayon art and I have become slightly addicted 🙂

There’s so much fun involved but it only takes the simplest of supplies and watching the colors liquefy and emerge and blend  is absolutely fascinating and delightful!

  
It reminds me of life. 

Recently I sat with an elderly patient who had lived for over a decade! Their thoughts rambled all over the creation And I  wondered if it was all bits and pieces of their years of living. Like this ….

“There’s only one life. Go to Paris.”

Or this “it’s time to expire. Retire. Join the choir.”

Maybe they were a poet in their early days 🙂

They lay awake most of the night saying random sentences that rambled all over. They asked for Apple pie and cream and picked chicken out of the air and thought they were eating it. I saw colors all through their speeches and random thoughts. 

Everyone warned me about this individual. How combative they could get. I always like to pray on my way to work and even during the day before I am assigned my shift. I pray that God would put me where He wants me and help me share God’s love to anyone I care for. I sat there in the room with this elderly person and prayed that God could keep them calm and help them relax .it wasn’t all roses by any means but God totally was with us and the night went well. He colored my world with grace and answered prayer!

One of my friends here at the hospital tells me how she prays Gods angels around and with her as she enters ‘difficult patients’ rooms and even as she works up and down the hallways. Believe me, she is one of the most highly respected CNAs at this hospital. Not only can she often calm people, she also ‘bends over backward’ to make them comfy. Like doing laundry for some long term patients that involved going to an entirely different tower here at the hospital and using a tiny washer in the pediatric unit. She is coloring her world. 

We all color our world in different ways. 

  
Like my four year olds smile and his frank  funny outlook on life. His hugs and snuggles and exuberance over playing ball in the small back yard and insisting you threw ‘a ball’ ! NOT a ‘strike’! Or the way he tries so hard to be independent and songs little songs to the freshly planted seeds to make them grow. Colors. Colors everywhere. Every day.

  
This is one of the colors I want to paint my world with. The color of prayer. 

  
And the color of words of life and grace to everyone around me. In my words and in my thoughts. 

And of course….the color of LOVE!

  
This is one of my favorite pieces.

I need to constantly be reminded that God delights in His children. That the color of Love is never out given.

Go ahead…. color your world! 

And now just a few crayon art tips…..

I peeled the paper off the crayons by slicing the back of the paper with a razor and popping it off. They melted much more nicely 🙂 Pintrest is loaded with amazing ideas for crayon art and gives good directions.

Here are a few of my tips. 

– Crayola crayons make a thicker wax. Other cheap brands make more of a water color type wax.

– Dollar Store crayons (with no writing on the crayons) don’t melt. 

– use hot heat with high blow drying unless you want more control….then slow down to low speed.

– have plenty of newspaper on hand to catch all the splats and drips. 

– it may take longer then you think for them to melt 🙂 

– an easy way for kids to do it is if you color boldly on canvas then let them blow dry it. The colors melt without so much splatting.

   
   
One more thing…wear old clothes or old pjs 😉 unless of course you want crayon art on you by accident. Or maybe you are just a bit less messy then me 😉 

Heaven’s Light
Grief

Heaven’s Light

Anita Hochstetler10 Comments

So when your wonderful friend from nearly 3,000 miles away texts you on the day of your daughter’s second anniversary in Heaven and asks if you would like to Face time at her grave, how can you say No!? 

I waited expectantly for that call and sure enough, just like she promised, her beautiful face popped up on my screen and there she stood in the middle of a huge expanse of dazzling white….in front of a pink stoned grave. 

  
She had brought pink roses and her kindness to this frozen bit of landscape in Pennsylvannia and it did my heart good to see the unbroken beauty, the teddy tucked in, and the little rocks that Kobe painted for his sister.

My heart had been in all kinds of places over the last week. Anger at God for ‘robbing ‘ me of so much. For taking my husband’s little girl and my Kobe’s sister. I had told Him plenty. About how I felt and how unfair it seemed and how I didn’t know what He expected me to do with such strong emotions. Since then, I found the most wonderful little book (on the very anniversary of her second year in Heaven!)full of verses and lovely photos that seemed to clinch in my mind again that we are human and God is God and He is always good and He never robs us. We might not understand, but that doesn’t define who He is or how much He loves us and weeps with us and gives us amazing miracles. I’ve had long talks with Him and long talks with my husband and coffee with my friend, and prayers of family and I feel like I can say,”You’re  a good good Father.” Again. 

Now back to this day. We Facetimed and Kobe stuck his head in front of me and asked all kinds of four year old questions and made four year old comments and had Sadie and I both laughing. The snow was all gorgeous and pure looking, and suddenly without warning, like a glorious dawning, my friends face was haloed in light. No, this does not do justice to the beauty. It was simply breathtaking. But this proves it was real 🙂

  
We were both so amazed we could scarcely speak. The Heaven’s seemed to open and illuminate everything into a sparkling dazzle that took my breath away through the screen. It felt like if I started walking, I could walk straight into the Light and Warmth of that golden path and straight Into Glory.

  
And somehow, the moon above it was even touched with it’s brilliance. It felt like a hug from Kierra. Like she had asked God to show us a tiny bit of what she is experiencing right now. That God wanted me to know I am loved and cared about beyond my wildest dreams. Because it had been overcast and the sun was nearly setting and He wanted me to know He had amazing plans for us. 

Later, I got a card from Sadie and she wrote that her prayer for me on that very day was that I would see a glimpse of the beauty of Heaven where Kierra is. Your prayer came true, my girl! Thanks for obeying that nudge from God to Face Time me at that particular time and for allowing God to show us both His Unfailing Love!

Then I saw it! As if that glorious light had not been enough….God gave us this yet too….

  A cross. 

On my sweet daughter’s grave. I was so amazed and overwhelmed, I couldn’t weep. I just asked Sadie to show me the grave again and we alternated between that glorious sun and that glowing grave. 

  
And the shadow of the cross. 

It wasn’t until later that I cried. And thanked God and a dawning crept over my heart. Without the Sun there would be no light. Without the obstacles in life, there would be no shadows. And without the shadows, there would be no Cross. 

I am in tears now, just thinking about it. My God gave His Son for me….so I could live. He loaned us our daughter for three and a half short years. We gave her back to Him. He knows the pain of watching a child die. He knows the cost. He knows His Son is the only light that illuminates our darkness and finds us. I bow in worship. In the shadow of the very Cross where “Love Ran Red” as Chris Tomlin sings….

//There’s a place where mercy reigns and never dies

There’s a place where streams of grace flow deep and wide

Where all the love I’ve ever found comes like a flood

Comes flowing down.//

I felt emotion in my deepest of hearts just like he writes in the chorus…

// here my hope is found

 Here on holy ground

Here I bow down….

I owe all to you….Jesus!//

  
This morning, the hard didn’t seem so hard. Because just before I fully woke up, I dreamed for a few short moments that I was in ICU, holding Kierra on my lap, and we were about to be discharged. She was so happy about going HOME. A nurse walked in the door and she turned her face toward the nurse and giggled. The she gave a clear, thrilled, happy laugh. It still echos in my mind. I think that’s the laugh she is using in Heaven today. Pure blissful delight. She laughed. I can’t wait to hear it in Heaven and to see her smile break across her face and into my heart with it’s own glorious dawning…..

Because of the Cross!