The Great Exchange by Heather Ledeboer
By Heather Ledeboer | Category: Pursuing God, Sawyer's Story, The Journey of Motherhood
The following post was marinated in tears:
Sometimes, like tonight, I just struggle to fully wrap my brain around my circumstances. So many moments in my day feel all to normal. The reality of the missing presence in our family feels like it is slipping through my fingers. The more normal things get the more that I feel like it takes all of my energy and focus to really, truly “get it”. I have Sawyer’s photo open in Photoshop on my computer and I am just staring at him and thinking about how beautiful he is. . . I zoom in and then zoom in again, looking at all the little wrinkles and pores and the zoom button just can’t pull him close enough. I try to remember or think of what it would be like to hold him again and it just hurts so bad. It is so much easier not to “get it”.
Today the funeral home called and said that they are ready for us to come pick up the urn and it just puts a strange sort of finalization to it all ya know? One day a baby, the next a fist full of ashes. There isn’t going to be any more holding him, at least during this lifetime. . . and as much as I might try to fool myself sometimes with the silly pep talk about why life is easier without a baby around, I have to face the fact that although life is easier without a baby, it isn’t just any baby, it was our baby and who wants an easier life anyway?
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Have you ever heard of The 5 Love Languages? My two primary love languages are "acts of service" and "gifts" (if you are curious what yours are, go here). As such, it makes sense that there are a few gifts that I have received that have continued to be very meaningful to me over time. One of them is a doll that my father gave me when I was a little girl. It was "Raspberry Torte", a shortcake character–she even smelled like Raspberries (or at least to the degree that a manufactured doll can smell like a God perfected fruit). I don’t recall that there was any special occasion for receiving the gift nor was my father in the habit of giving me gifts. Couple those two factors together and you can see why it is a doll that I still have tucked away and remember fondly.
I wrote a post at the beginning of the month titled "I want my manual!" A few days ago a package arrived for me in the mail from my brother in law. I opened the unassuming package and found my manual packed neatly inside. On the cover was a note:
"Heather, I was reading your blog thing the other day and you said you were looking for a grief manual. So I started looking and found one (at Wal Mart of all places). I marked some different places I thought might be helpful. I hope this helps. P.S. There is a lot of other useful information in this manual also. Feel free to page through it!"
I really can’t put into words the way that this gift touched me. I will remember it right along with my ragged Raspberry Torte doll.
I began reading through the marked passages and stopped at the second one in Isaiah 60:20. "Your sun shall no more go down; neither shall your moon withdraw itself: for the LORD shall be your everlasting light, and the days of your mourning shall be ended." When I got to the end of the verse I stopped and backed up, re-reading the last few words "the days of your mourning shall be ended". I know in my head that there will be a day that I will no longer have sadness or crying or weeping but in the same way that you tend to come away with a larger bill at the grocery store when you are hungry, you tend to read the Bible differently when you are needing comfort–the words have a way of impacting you far deeper than they ever seemed to need to before, past your head and instead seeping into your heart. I need this assurance, not only that my days of mourning shall end but that they will be replaced by something greater.
I read on hoping that I would be assured that something wonderful would replace the days of mourning. I didn’t have to read far, just two verses later I found Isaiah 61: 1-3 "The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon Me, Because the LORD has anointed me to preach good tidings to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD, and the day of vengeance of our God; To comfort all who mourn, to console those who mourn in Zion, to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; That they may be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified.” Praise God. I will not simply be dumping off my grief and leaving empty handed, I get to exchange it. I will give my ashes (which has poignant meaning to me after today) and receive beauty. I will give my mourning and receive oil of joy. I will give my spirit of heaviness and receive a garment of praise. I LOVE that about God. He is all about exchanges that are unbelievably beneficial to us. None of this exchanging for equal value crap, God wants our crap, all of it and in exchange he offers us things that we could never obtain on our own: healing, liberty, comfort, beauty, joy and praise. (After my friend Crystal read this post she sent me a link to a song based on this verse. I added it to my playlist to the left if you want to listen to it. It is called "Beauty for Ashes", thank you Crystal. And still later in the day Amy told me of another song based on this passage. I added it to my playlist as well. It is called "Beauty from Pain", thank you Amy.)
I took a self portrait while writing this post. I want to share the face of a mother whose baby sits in a tiny urn. I want you to know that even if the most sorrowful moments of "getting it" I still hold on to the gift of hope.
"No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame" Psalm 25:3
"Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God." Psalm 42:4-6
How you can pray:
-For comfort when needed and hope to sustain the days ahead.
What I am thankful for:
-Sawyer’s Photo: to remind me that the beauty of his body matches the beauty he has left in my heart.
Oh Heather….this post really touched me and I am commenting through tears as well. The bible is the best “grief manual” that we can have isn’t it? I pray for you and your family daily, that the Lord will wrap His arms around you and bring you comfort. Thanks for also letting us “see” Sawyer and remember his face with you. Thanks for being transparent and letting us see you too. Big Hugs and prayers! Sarah
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Hi Heather, thank you so much for sharing this. It must be really difficult and I will continue keeping you in my prayers. I too look forward to the day where there will be no mourning anymore!xoxoxoSu Ling
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Oh my friend. My heart is with you today. I am not good with words and I cannot really express what is in my head and my heart and my spirit after reading this post – all I know is that it touched somewhere deep inside. Thanks for popping into my blog yesterday – I plan to update sometime on the weekend – love the you I have got to know on your blog!
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words just aren’t coming to me.
i don’t know what to say.
will comment later?
xoxo
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Heather, this post really touched me. I hope you know that by sharing your experiences and your versus of comfort, you are helping others as well.
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How awesome is your BIL?!! And what greater manual than THAT?! And how incredible that we live in a country where you can (at least for now, anyway) find it at Walmart!?
Do you ever listen to Shane & Shane? They are absolutely incredible and I think you’d find a lot of comfort in their songs – especially their Psalms album! Straight Scripture put to music 
Some of the verses you quoted reminded me of a couple of their songs, esp. the “beauty for ashes.” Praying for you today . . .
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Oh Heather, my heart truly aches for you. Seeing you every day, the way you hold it together so well, it’s hard sometimes to remember the pain you are going through. I know it’s there, but you are such a strong person it’s hard to always notice.
Sawyer is beautiful, absolutely beautiful!
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Very heavy post today with pictures that complete that feeling. No words, just taking a great big sigh.
.. and hugs if I could give them.
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Oh Heather.
I’m not one for Bible verses and I have little tolerance to read through them when they are quoted. But for some reason, I feel compelled to read when you share them. I feel like in reading them, I can maybe understand HOW you might find any shred of peace. I’m searching to understand YOUR peace. Because if you can find some in this, certainly I can too (seems…strange…to say that I’m struggling with YOUR loss…).
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Many tears for you with you today – I continue to pray for your comfort, and for the witness that you obviously have on people reading your blog. “and the zoom button just can’t pull him close enough” This line just sent me – I am so sorry that he is not in your arms, he is so precious, I am so glad to see his picture again. Do you know “Beauty from pain” by Superchick? Good song – hugs =)
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My tears mingle with yours….I too mourn the loss of a son…cling to that Manual…it is the voice of the only Comfort that truly exists.
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Heather – I just said a little prayer for you through tears. I wish I could be there to hold you and let you sob on my shoulder.
I don’t know you personally, but we’re both mothers and connect on that level. We’re both sisters in Christ.
And I mourn for you – your loss – your son.
Nell
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Heather-
What a great post… and what a wonderful reminder about the greatest instruction manual we have. Thank you for sharing your grief with me, so candidly. I appreciate it and I think that is helps me put words to my own, almost three years later.
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Dear Heather,
I have been reading your blog for the last month or so and this one really begged me to comment. I am so touched by your BIL’s gift and the “manual” that God has given us. I know that I don’t use it nearly as much as I should (and I am a pastor’s wife).
I lost our first baby quite early into the pg. I remember that I had marked all the days in my calendar were my future doctor’s appointment. They were written in pen and there was no erasing that reminder of the loss that had been given to me.
Many well meaning people said things, trying to comfort me, that were not all were very comforting, like “it wasn’t a baby or there was probably something wrong with it.” All I could do was bite my tongue in pain. I felt like this thing that was so important to me just literally went down the toilet. I wanted something so desperately to hold onto this life that I knew had been inside me. I knew that this baby was now something that God was holding this child in his hands. In an effort to have some sort of realness to the situation, I wrote in my calendar “Lost the baby today.” It was so hard…but it was the only thing I could think of to do to help me, other than pray. People were going on with their lives and I felt like I wanted to scream, “Don’t you know that I lost something precious to me and i feel like dying.”
The comment you wrote about looking at Sawyer’s picture really spoke to me. I can only imagine what is like for you right now.
I pray for renewal in your spirit and that you would feel His presence and love for you each and everyday.
Your blog is having such a great impact on me and I know that I am not the only one.
choosing His joy,
Jennifer
Jer. 29:11-13
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Heather,
Sawyer is very beautiful and has touched my life in a profound way. Still thinking of and praying for you and your family!
jennifer
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I’m writing this through tears. Your posts touch my heart. Sawyer has touched my heart. He’s absolutely beautiful. Thank you for sharing.
Always praying for you…
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The days of mourning may end, but the occasional moments will continue. They will gradually be fewer and farther apart but they will never totally be gone. There is a hole in you life that someone you loved fit into. It’s not a hole that can be totally filled.
I always wished for three children. Our first was lost at the beginning of our first trimester. I didn’t get to hold her, but she is part of us just the same.
Father’s day made me think again about mourning. My dad died almost 6 years ago. But sometimes, it is still like yesterday. His death was sudden and unexpected which I personally think makes it more difficult.
On Father’s day I found myself vigorously pulling weeds and planting seeds in my vegetable garden. It hit me that I was doing just what my father woul have loved to be doing on Father’s day. So in a way I was spending the day with him.
I also realized that though I still felt the hole and still mourn his absence, I was turning that energy into something constructive!
Your blogs are an amazing testament of you and your strength. You are not only processing all this by writing about it, but you are turning your mourning into a powerful example of how to move through this hard journey constructively.
What a blessing you are to all those who are facing great sadness and loss.
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The simple phrase, “He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted” dances off the page for me. This is what you do, Heather. You and your beautiful baby Sawyer heal the brokenhearted. Each day. Each post. Each word.
Sharon – Pinks & Blues
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I can’t stop looking at him either. He is so beautiful and has such peace about him. It’s strange how a women I’ve never met is in my thoughts everyday. I am at a loss of words now. Thinking of you…
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Heather. God has gifted you with such a gift with your writing. I want to hug you. I want you to be able to hug Sawyer….you are so beautiful my friend. Inside and out…..good night Kate
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Heather,
The picture of you is beautiful. There is something about it that shows hope thru the hurt. I know it is because you are believer.
I also adore the pictures of Sawyer. He is your sweet baby and all your photos are incredibly life honoring.
You are touching so many people thru your sharing. Keep it up. May God comfort you as He carries you thru each day.
In Him,
Jessica
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Heather, I love that your brother-in-law sent you a specially-bookmarked Bible for a grief manual. What a wonderful gift! I am in tears reading this as well, in sympathy for you and grieving for my friend (also named Heather) who has strayed from her marriage and from the Lord and whose family and friends are suffering deeply because of her actions. Reading those verses gives me hope for the future for her as well. Thank you for sharing your grief in all of this, and the hope and joy you are finding even amidst the tears.
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Heather, another beautiful post. Thank you for allowing us to take this journey with you. Goodness, if I could take any of the pain and sadness away I would do it in a heartbeat. The “special manual” your brother in law gave you was perfect! And the picture of Sawyer is amazing. He is a handsome little guy who looks so peaceful. Sending continued prayers of peace and comfort.
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Heather,
You are in my thoughts everyday and have since this path in your life has started. Every time I read what you write my heart wishes I had something wonderful and perfect to take the pain away from your heart. I will continue to pray for you and your family. For this is the only way I feel I can help. I will never forget Sawyer’s beautiful little face. Thanks for sharing him with all of us.
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i can’t stop staring at that precious baby.
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Heather, even through your pain, you still shine. The Lord’s light shines on you so brightly.
You are one of the bravest women I have met in the blogsphere. I am in awe of you and your faith and love.
Thank you, thank you for sharing yourself so freely and so deeply.
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What a thoughtful brother-in-law you have, and what a beautiful post. Thanks for being so real and raw. We are grieving with you. One of my closest friends had a miscarriage recently and I told her I hoped that in knowing others are grieving her loss too, that it takes it just the tiniest bit easier to bear. What a wonderful verse that first one, I’ll have to mark it down.
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One amazing and strong mama.
One amazingly beautiful baby.
Thinking of you and your family Heather.
Many prayers for you baby Sawyer!
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Heather,
The Lord led me to your story through a dear friend’s blog. My heart aches with you and for you. I too lost a son, almost 10 years ago. Sometimes it seems like yesterday – others it seems like forever ago. The Lord is amazing in how He leads us to words of comfort. My Joshua Caleb was 4 1/2 weeks old when he died. I wrote a tribute to him not long after he died (in the days before blogs.) Memories flood over me as I read through some of your blogs. Tears are brimming. “Thanksgiving” came less than a week after he died. It was very difficult, but I learned to be thankful for the little mercies. Asking God to help me see them, and learning to be thankful even in the valley of the shadow of death was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. It was only by God’s grace that I was able to give thanks. I will pray that He floods your soul with grace and peace. One of my all time favorite songs is by Casting Crowns – I Will Praise You in This Storm. Definitely another good one to add to your playlist.
I will post what I wrote on my blog http://www.luvmy12kids.blogspot.com if you would like to read it. Hopefully it will bring you some comfort just knowing you are not alone, and other Moms have ached with empty arms too.
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Wow, Heather, you have a wonderful family and what a wonderful surprise to receive in the mail. I also have to say I love the self portrait. Let me tell you why… I didn’t get a digital camera until almost a year after my daughter died, it was my gift to myself for my first mother’s day. Anyway, it broke my heart that I was not able to take photos of my daughter, so I would often take photos of myself crying. I don’t know if I kept any of them or not, I will have to look through my photos but I took them to look at them and see that my grief was indeed real, not a made up emotion, you know? I felt like people around me would look at me thinking I’m faking these tears but when I saw those photos of myself I knew that there was no mistaking the reality of my grief.
Anyway, thanks for showing me (and others) that we are not alone. And for teaching everyone else.
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