Joanie Elizabeth Paine's Memorial

O death, where is your sting? 

O death, where is your victory? 

Thanks be to God who gives us the victory 

through our Lord Jesus Christ-1 Cor 15:55

Our little oak of righteousness 

We will always remember

Hands wide open

Maple Tree
The Lord is my rock and my fortress Ps 18:2

Ascending upon the mountain ridge we never imagined this day would come. The day we would hold our babies ashes. Tears falling. Streaming down a sun beamed face. The city of Los Angeles stretching for miles as the aftermath of the storm opened the skies. The pain of losing Joanie opening the fresh wound in my heart. We didn’t know how to do this. There was no manual. No bible story to follow. Just two young broken hearts retracing are steps 3 months earlier.

A backpack. A maple tree. An oak tree. A shovel and water. The slamming of doors and the laughter of strangers as they discovered the trailhead. Juxtaposed with the sacredness of a bronzed leaf urn hidden away in my sweatshirt. Fighting back the tears. Hands pressing against the treasure inside. Descending into the valley, rays of sunshine leading the way. Reflections of oak trees upon the overflowing creek. Sun kissed rocks. Last of falls maple leaves. The glory of creation beaming with praise. I knew this day she was beaming down upon us.

Shuffling up the muddy mountainside a patch scattered with fallen oak leaves. The heavy-laden soil saturated from the storm.  The ground quickly peeled back a perfect place to plant the oak tree. Scattering ashes at its roots, she would always be our little oak of righteousness. Speaking forth all her beauty and goodness. Declaring the name of Joanie Elizabeth Paine upon the mountainside. Hands held high giving praise to our God. All was still. All was silent. But the storm in our hearts.

Descending farther into the valley. Crossing creeks and stepping-stones. The maple tree would need to be near water and direct sunlight. Perched upon a rock, a tree awaiting its adornment. Vibrant red maples like the one I found the day after I held Joanie.  We would wait with anticipation to come back, to behold its beauty. Just as we wait to behold her beauty, adorned in the light of the Father. 

Making an oath unto God. We would live with hands wide open and would dedicate every one of our children unto Him. Emptying the urn, her ashes falling into the soil. She would become far more than anything we as mortal humans could attain here on earth. Michael prayed she would become all she was made for, bearing much fruit like the tree of life-

Revelation 22:1 Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city, also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.  

The Memorial 

Later that same day we joined together with dear loved ones. Gathering in a friend’s backyard we braved the chill of the late afternoon wind. Heavy hearts entangled with sorrow and joy. Michael said he wanted this days purpose to hold two things. To honor Joanie and to praise God. We did both whole-heartedly. I could not have asked God for a more precious memorial

Trembling from the inside out I stood up to share the letter I had written for Joanie. I didn’t know if I could get through it but Michael came and wrapped his arms around me. Giving me courage to press through the tears. He also shared something he had written and it goes like so... 

Twirling, like a wound rope unwinding, yet unpredictable, going left, then right, forward then backwards. Hopelessly trying to stop the flight in the cage of my hands. I was a boy of ten years then waiting for the dinner bell to ring as I keenly kept my eyes locked on the slender silhouettes of Eucalyptus leaves against the canvas of the darkening dusky sky. To catch one was a joy, a challenge conquered, a skill mastered, a competition won. It was a game a naive country boy would play.

Driving home on the eve of December down Tigertail Drive laden with hues of yellow, orange, and red from the Sycamores, Maples, and Amber tees that line the street. It hit me. The metaphor of a fallen leaf. You had just fallen Joanie. We were returning form the Doctors office that early evening where we had seen your heart beat so definately beat no more. This idea, this metaphor of a leaf kept reappearing, from teh day we gathered leaves in Chantry Flats to the symbol placed on your hospital room door. I guess its the brief nature and radiant color of a fallen leaf that stirs us, that enlightens our soul. Much like a falling star slicing through the darkness. Glorious and miraculous on one hand, yet cut short, leaving us wanting.

Wanting to see the sparkle of your mothers eyes in you. Wanting to have you fall asleep on my chest. Wanting to kiss you goodnight every precious evening I would have with you. But your Heavenly Father wanted you to miss the winter chill of sins effects and bring you into His eternal summer.

Little did I know as a boy catching Eucalyptus leaves that I would catch the most precious leaf of all. Falling from your mother's womb into my hands you were the grace of God. You were and are Joanie. HOlding you, ripped open the dam of dreams and desires that had been swelling for you. They spilled out as tears over you, just as our Father's tears showered upon us. His promises secured by his blood and tears watered our broken hearts; never leaving nor forsaking us, being the God of all comfort having walked through all that we encounter, that death has no victory. And giving us hope, for we know Joanie, that as your body lay as a fallen leaf in our arms, the leaves of the tree of life that are for the healing of the nations, would restore you as well. 

She was the size of a mango...

This was the day my life completely flipped upside down. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was October 16th just shy of a week since becoming a Registered Nurse. Of course the idea of taking pictures of a growing belly while holding the appropriate fruit per gestational age came to me at about 20 weeks.  Poor Michael patiently snapping 10, 15, photographs to get it perfect! As  for many women who experience their first pregnancy this excitement involves brainstorming all the creative ways to mark each month of change. This day marked much more than a photograph of me carrying a mango, the size of Joanie at the time. It marked the day we would find out Joanie would also die in my womb. The doctors said most likely before the third trimester. Many of you reading this know the story. She had Turners Syndrome. 45 Chromosomes, one less than most of the people you see walking around everyday. You see God had a completely different plan and purpose for Joanie's life. And ours. Little did we know it would carry us down a very painful, heartbreaking, and transforming road. This is where hands wide open comes in. Learning to live with hands wide open to whatever enters our lives. Ann Voskamp in One Thousand Gifts says, "Thanksgiving is the evidence of our acceptance to whatever he gives." I have been learning this through the carrying, death, and mourning of our daughter Joanie Elizabeth.

After this day I stopped marking the days. All joy in the journey of pregnancy was robbed from me. The anticipation of chronologically marking her growth got lost in the deep sorrow of my heart. Many did not see me showing or pregnant at all. I did manage to muster up the strength to take a 6 month shot. Only a week before Joanie had died. Looking at this picture of us seems so surreal. I can't help but cry. And miss her. Holding onto these memories are hard but it also overwhelms me with joy to think of the day we will be together again.

She will forever be beating in the middle of our lives. 

A New Life

So although this blog has become sporadic and inconsistent writing may be more of an outlet for me to process this transition into being a nurse and rather less of taking snapshots of our life. To be honest life has changed so much the rememberance of what was has vanished in the midst of what is. I am not sure where to start. The moments I have rest in my mind away from the pathophysiology, etiologies, and nursing interventions, I almost forget how to think normally. One of my professors said by the end of this year you will look in the mirror and not recognize who you are because of how far you have come in your knowledge and skills as a nurse. Even know 5 weeks into it I have moments when I lose myself completely as though I am no longer the Jennifer I knew for 25 years, those out of body, surreal, unexplainable moments that I am sure you have experienced. Maybe when you are looking at your own children playing or growing up you think am I really their parent, are they really my child? Those moments when you realize you are not in control and the only thing holding you up is the love of the Father. My father gave me freedom to choose this path of nursing, yet, he wrote this divine and special plan for my life. There are two times in my life I can say with confidence God directly spoke to me. The first time was when Michael and I were going through a really difficult time in our marriage and God sang Isaiah 54:4-8 over me. The second time was on the beach in Pismo in May. I just found out I did not get accepted to the nursing school I am attending now -they had had made a mistake with some of my paper work-and I cried out to God from the depths of my heart like David did saying, search me Oh God, see the desires of my heart You have placed in me, remember your faithfulness in bringing me to this point. And He said, "I will fulfill my plans in and through you." Two months later I found out I got in to Mount St. Mary's College. And now I am at the bedside of people who were on the verge of dying and may die if their body doesn't respond to the surgery or transplant they underwent. I am faced with two realities. One, our incredible God has masterfully woven our bodies together to prevent and fight off disease, to adapt to changes, and to regenerate and repair from damage in such a way I don't know how one could deny such an incredible and divine designer! And secondly because of sin and the brokenness of this world we are faced with the inevitable reality of death. For those of us who are saved we can shout, "Oh death where is your string" yet for those who are perishing there may be no echo of victory but of despair. Therefore we become ambassadors of this good news. David Platt says, it is the shocking reality of the cross, yet while we were still sinners He saved us and took on our punishment, calling us sons and daughters and inviting us into the imperishable treasure of our inheritance. My plea is this shocking reality would not grow dim in our hearts as believers but it would become our daily manna! When we let God be God in our lives, incredible things can happen, but it takes a heart of surrender. Bruchko who was a missionary in Venezuela put it this way, we must let God be the hammock of our lives. We hang our entire lives in that hammock trusting He is the anchor holding us up.

Summer

Michael's First Official Day as a Nursing Student

Tuscali Mountain Inn

3rd anniversary in Topanga Canyon

(Copy and Paste the link below to view our Backpacking Trip in Mineral King)

http://www.flickr.com/photos/66529555@N03/

As you can tell we have been missing in action. We have been in constant transition since, well, our entire marriage! Although moving may be one of my top 10 least favorite activities to do, it deepens the reality of this shifting and shakable earthly 'home' we have and how as Jesus says, He has gone to prepare a new home for us in heaven. With the continual changes in our life over the years it has forced me to be more heavenly minded through the letting go of stuff, people, and places. Recalling Paul's words, If then you have been raised with christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things that are above and not things that are on the earth. Thus with all of this said we are in a new season. This past Monday we officially moved down to the Los Angeles area to embrace the call of being a nurse. The Lord miraculously worked all of the details out as we too sowed seeds towards this dream over the past two years to get into nursing school. Michael started his first day at Cerritos College for an Associates Degree in Nursing. And myself, will start Monday at Mount St. Mary's College Accelerated Bachelors of Science in Nursing. Michael's program is 2 years and mine is 1. I think for both of us this big transition feels very surreal. Yes, we miss our community, dear friends, and living on the Central Coast but the Lord has been faithful in preparing our hearts for this goodbye as well as given us a greater hope in the call and plans he has for our lives! I have learned in order for one to persevere forward and walk in obedience, not as Lots wife who looked back at her city and turned into a pillar of salt, we must hold onto the promises of God. What our His promises for you today?

As far as recapping the past four months some of the blessings we experienced were: Backpacking in Yosemite with Paul and Elizabeth (Paul and Michael went to college together) in May, Colorado Reunion with my college roommates and their spouses in June, Bass Lake with my childhood friends and family in July, our most recent backpacking trip to Mineral King in August, and celebrating our 3rd anniversary in Malibu.

Unravled

The propensity to find an affection of our heart becomes like a dirty drug we cannot run from. To propel our self into the reality of something real beyond the mundane and ordinary weighs against the walls of desire. Tangled with pure and evil yearnings of our heart, fed by streams of conscience. Pumping like an i.v with the current of the cosmos. Fighting to stay pure and unstained by the guilty accuser I stand and fall crying for the blood pouring from His hands and feet. Nails digging further, head pounding, side throbbing, spinning into the dark and the light, desiring both. Like a child unaware of the shackles entering into the bought freedom, unattained by mortality but a heart trusting in the unseen. Losing myself in His royalty of scarlet silk, all alone I am held close. Predestined and chosen, uncertain of the path or the call ahead. Waiting upon planted seeds to blossom into His righteous promises. Wrestling with picture books of the past bound to stained pages I tear out of my mind. Transforming ashes to beauty, I must die. Forgetting what is behind and pressing towards what is ahead, hungry and thirsty for his filling. Crying from the depths to fill this hungry soul with visions of eternity. Scaling the jagged cliffs around me I cling to the rock of salvation, crying deliver me. Loathing all that is luke warm in my life, fighting to rise above the waves of deception and comfort disguised in good works. Persevering to His throne of glory, I must fight to be filled by only Him.

Coronado & Mexico

Devils Punch Bowl Race in Palmdale

Go number 737

Coronado Island

Night Shot from the Condo

Grandma Dilley 91 years old

Aunt Christy in Coronado

Houses on a hill, where we stayed. The body of water is an estuary

Valley just right from our door step, there were always people riding their horses

Our balcony and morning devotion

Door of Faith, orphanage we visited in town

Field of Squash

Candied Pecans

Puerto Nuevo known for their lobster

Sea Adventures

We just got back from a spur of the moment spring break adventure to Palm Dale, Orange County, Coronado, & Mexico. What a sweet sweet time we had connecting with friends, family, each other and are awesome God. We both couldn't remember the last time we got away from the distractions of our home, work, and school so we decided it was time to leave it all behind. As time presses against our dreams and hopes of having a family someday, being nurses, and missionaries I find us yearning for more quiet times with the Lord. Often I prioritize the dishes in the sink, the laundry in the hamper, the clothes on the floor, and the "putting away" before being still. My spirit felt at rest this week. Instead of filling my time with life's maintenances I filled it with the word. We both can testify of His faithfulness this week in giving us rest, building us up, and planting some shaking truths in our hearts about the kingdom. My memory verse this week was 1 Corinthians 15:57 For God has given us the victory in our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing your labor is not in vain. Be encouraged knowing when we draw near to Him, He is there, always there!