Noelle Kilgore's Blog

My dad was always a refuge for me.  He was the most secure person in my life.  I always knew, no matter what, my dad would be there for us (my mom too).  When he passed away, the never-ending security I experienced with having him as my dad, was shaken to the core.  And I’m not even referring to financial stability.  He just always thought of all of us with every decision and prepared for the future.  He even prepared for our kid’s future and their kids.  So when we lost him, I felt out of sorts.  But then I felt it spiritually. 

My faith is the core of who I am.  I wasn’t mad at God.  I was confused.  I was frustrated.  I had this unsettling thing deep in my soul.  I HATED feeling that way.  I didn’t understand why he didn’t get the miracle we were all asking for.  I didn’t understand why I saw miracles with Pierce but couldn’t with my dad.  I didn’t understand why I felt this block between me and God.  So this pillar of security in the physical realm, was gone and now this security I’ve always had with my faith, wasn’t necessarily gone, it was blocked.  It felt lost and distant.

I wrestled for months. I didn’t sleep (still struggle with this).  I struggled going to church or listening to certain worship music.  My heart ached to understand.  I felt such guilt for feeling the way I felt.  I just wanted things to feel normal again.  I soon realized that making peace with this loss might be the hardest part (so far) on my grief journey.

Then one day, during worship, I felt it.  I felt a physical weight leave my body.  I knew what had happened.  I had made peace with the loss.  Maybe my spirit finally accepted that I couldn’t change anything by feeling the way I felt, but surrendering to the arms of my Heavenly Father had to be my new norm.  I truly believe I’ve had a healthy view of God because of the earthly example I was given.  But in that, I didn’t ever get to know God as Father…because my dad did such a great job in the physical for me.  Sure, I knew God and depended on Him in other ways but when it came to leaning on Him, as my Heavenly Father, I’m not sure I did.  

I believe I also made peace that God isn’t in my life to give me what I want.  If we really sit with that, I think a lot of us see God in that role, right?  We lean into this life of Christ because of what we can get out of it, and if we truly approach it that way, I think we will be disappointed.  It’s about relationship.  He knows every bit about me, but my journey of faith is getting to know everything about Him.  Learning from Him.  Seeking out His wisdom.  Gleaming from the example set before me.  I am here on this earth to simply point people to Him.  Not to get everything I ask for.

Don’t get me wrong, there is a beautiful, natural return when we lean into a faith that surrounds Him and His Word but getting something from Him is not the ultimate goal.  Transformation through intimacy is the goal.  How often do we turn our backs on “faith” because we didn’t get the result we wanted.  He didn’t answer our prayer.  He didn’t heal our family member.  There’s crummy, terrible things happening in this world.  So looking at it from that view, why would you stay clinging to a faith like that?  It makes no sense.  But when we cling to who He is, no matter what’s before us, that’s when true intimacy takes place.  If He never gave me one more thing (which He will, 100% over and over and over) will I link arms with Him and say “You are good.  I trust you.  I know You’re here with me.  I know You haven’t left…because I KNOW WHO YOU ARE”. Maybe I truly didn’t know who He was before this loss.

His sacrifice already gave me the ultimate – eternal life and a life of forgiveness and love.  The rest is a bonus.  And I don’t mean that like a Debbie Downer because the truth is, I am surrounded by blessing over blessing from Him.  So, as much as I want to say the Christian life isn’t to “get”, we do “get” because of who He is.  But if I never take the time to truly know Him, those moments of unbelief will rock me instead of pushing me closer to Him.  

This journey has made me take a long, hard look at the foundation of my relationship with Him.  I’ve been handed some hard things in my life. The reality is, so has everyone else. I can honestly say the constant thing I have seen, through every heartache and pain…He was there.  He was there waiting patiently without force or disappointment.  So often the last couple of months, I saw myself sitting on a bench, weeping and He was there with me.  I had put the distance between us,  not in an angry way…just in “I’m not sure I can trust You” way and there He sat…waiting.  With no agenda but to simply embrace me.  He’s just so sweet like that.

Maybe none of this made sense to any of you, but writing it out helps me work through it all and I finally felt like I could share this part of my journey.  I still cry everyday.  I still miss him throughout the day.  I still don’t understand but there is a peace that wasn’t there before.  I don’t think it’s anything I did on my own accord.  I believe I am relearning who He is in this loss.  I’m changing my heart towards Him.  He’s not here to give me what I want.  He’s here to change my heart through who He is.  I’m thankful for His grace and patience and believe more is coming on this faith journey. 

Sweet dad of mine, your girl is going through some hard and beautiful spiritual transformations, and knowing you, you would choose to leave this life if it meant I would be closer to Him. May your loss be honored in my findings in Christ. I love you forever.

Dear Dad,

I don’t even know where to begin.  I miss you terribly.  My heart aches to hear your voice, to hold your hand, to see your name pop up on my phone.  I miss your hugs, your laugh, the way you would show up for everything in my life.  

To be your daughter has been the biggest honor, privilege and something I can’t let go of.  I need you still.  We need you still.  I don’t think I’ll ever understand this end to your story.  But then I am reminded that your story has no end.  In fact, you worked so hard to change the trajectory of your life, so that your story could live on in your children, your children’s children and so on.  Not only will it live on with your family, but with your friends, your employees, and even the strangers you came across on a daily basis.

I didn’t get to say thank you before you entered your forever home, so this is my attempt at letting the world know just how incredibly lucky I was to be one your “cute blondes”. 

Dad,

thank you for showing up everyday of my life.  I think back of the way you would pray with me every night while I lived under your roof…even into my teenage years.  You would listen for hours on hours about my day or my concerns.  You had an open door policy.  I always knew, no matter what, you’d take my call or me showing up to your office unannounced.  I remember not being able to look at you (still couldn’t do this day) anytime I sang on stage because you would have tears streaming down your face…every single time.  Every dream we had in our hearts, you championed.  You sat us down and counseled us through decisions.  My goodness, I miss you, daddy.  

I remember the way you loved your family with every part of you.  Everyone knew we were your number one priority.  We were everything to you….and you were everything to us.

Thank you for the way you would take care of me.  Here are just a couple of things you did.

1. When I would come home from college, you insisted on driving me back because you knew how tired I was.  You would drive and I would sleep.  You’d fly home and now, looking back and having my own kids, I think it was your way of making sure I was safe.
2. In high school, thank you for seeing me and my friends in a restaurant and paying for our meal.  Thank you for washing and detailing my car on a weekly basis and sneaking cash in little places to surprise me and then acting like you didn’t know what I was talking about when I would thank you.
3. Thank you for always embracing and loving my friends as your own.  You hugged them, celebrated them and found ways to pay for their school, meals, extras on their honeymoons, trips and fundraisers…you took care of anyone who had a need.  ANYONE.
4. Thank you for walking with me through my darkest days and never giving up on me.  You saw the good in me.  Fought for me and believed the best…always.  You lifted my head many times and spoke “you are a good girl” when I believed less.
5. You always slipped $100 bill in my purse or my console when I left home and always encouraged me to carry cash and put some away.  Thank you for always preparing me for the future and the bigger picture.
6. Thank you for always responding to any need in our circle and in the world.  You were literally the most generous man I’ve ever known and will ever know.
7. Thank you for installing a shelter and a generator at our home so that we would always have a place of shelter in storms and a source to keep our home warm and running.
8. Thank you for taking care of all of our children’s therapy appointments, schooling, birthday parties…you refused to let us pay.  You took care of us in every little detail.

The list could go on and on and on and on…there is nobody like you.  I just still can’t believe you are gone. I don’t know what life is like without you and I don’t want to find out.  I am broken and sad.  I’m mad and frustrated and in the same breath, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude that I got you for 40 years of my life.  I got to know the love of a heavenly Father through the life of my earthly Father.  Thank you for pointing me and others to Him every single day of your life.  The moment you met Jesus, your life was never the same and everyone around you knew that.  You have been my world for so long…all of our world.  I’m not sure how we are going to do it without you.  I ache for you.  To have one last hug…one last kiss on the cheek…one last “I love you honey”. 

You served this world well.  I can’t imagine the homecoming you received the moment you took your last breath. I know the Father was so proud to welcome you home.  You were His hands and feet while you were on this earth.  I long for heaven more than I ever have.  I dream of our reunion.  I dream of you seeing your sweet wife again.  We will take good care of her.  You have nothing to worry about.  We’ve got her and she’s go us.  

I love you dad.  I truly was the luckiest girl to have ever lived, having you as a father.  Well done, good and faithful servant.  

Several weeks ago, I heard “Wait on You” by Dante Bowe and Maverick City Worship/Elevation Worship. I was immediately moved to tears within the first verse. 

“I don’t believe in fairy tales

I guess I’ve outgrown them

But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe that there’s something bigger than me

Cause I’ve seen it in a hospital room

When the doctors said,

“Sorry there’s nothing more we can do”

Well it wasn’t through”

We have literally sat in a hospital room and heard those exact words spoken over our son and if you know our story, God wasn’t through.  The entire song is fire but there is a portion in the song where he sings Isaiah 40:31. Growing up this was my elementary and junior high school Scripture so I know it by heart. 

“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

As I heard this, I found myself singing along even though I had never heard that song but then Dante says “that’s what happens when you wait” and then repeats the Scripture and follows it with “that’s what happens when you wait”. I was stopped dead in my tracks. I hadn’t put the two together. 

I have been waiting on God for some things. Some major things. I’ve grown weary. I’ve been frustrated and wrestled with the thought of being seen. I can say that in those moments I keep coming back to this song and that reminder of what God does for us in the wait. I’m also reminded of how I felt in that hospital room.  That even in that dark place I didn’t feel alone. 

I began to dig into learning about the bald eagle after meditating on this song. Its strength and ability blew me away. For instance, this fact about the wings: 

“The wings, spanning over 2.4 m (8 ft) in the female, make excellent use of any updrafts or thermals to ascend effortlessly without wasting energy by flapping. Tail feathers are spread to provide the largest possible surface area, and wide separation of the tapered wingtip feathers helps reduce turbulence and further assists soaring ability. Feather positioning and structure enables drag to be increased or reduced as required. It also keeps the bird warm and waterproof.”

The way they fly, because of their wing span, creates a smoothness in their flight. So if you were “mounted” on wings like eagles…it would be a safe and smooth ride. They can fly for hours at a time. Are you starting to see the reason for the use of the eagle in Scripture and why it’s associated so much for safety, strength and refuge throughout the Bible? 

Now let’s look at my week in Jackson Hole with my family. We have been spending family vacation there for 10 years. 9 years in that home. I’ve never seen a bald eagle there. Never. This trip, every morning, 1-2 eagles visited.  They perched in the tree and just watched.

In my weariness it is very common for me to ask God to just remind me that He’s there. That He’s listening. That He hears me. I really do believe this was a beautiful picture and reminder of what He’s been speaking to me lately. I don’t believe that God withholds His goodness to teach us things. That doesn’t seem like a loving Father to me. But I do believe He knows the whole story and in His goodness, I see evidence of His mercy through healing and miracles and I have to trust that in the wait, He is there, bringing things to completion. I hold tight to the things I ask of Him because I’ve seen Him do it. To quote another incredible song by Cody Carnes and Brandon Lake “Don’t tell me He can’t do it.” Those two songs have been my anthem the last month or so. Then I see this eagle, and I can’t shake that God is up to something. So I wait. I wait and I hold tight to His promises because I’ve “tasted His goodness. I trust in His promise”.

For me, this eagle was a reminder that He was strengthening me. He was hiding me in the shadow of His wings. I have to believe there is something that must take place in me during the wait. Stopping and trusting and being still is hard for me. Very hard. I’m a person that gets things done. I’ve always been that way so when I have a situation before me that needs to be changed I usually get it changed. And right now, I am at a standstill. I’ve done all the things. I’ve done all that I can do. Now I just wait. I wait for God to be God and let His strength be my refuge. I have to trust that He sees me and He’s not withholding any good thing from me.

So here you go, God. I’m climbing up the wings of eagles and trusting You’ve got this.  Feel free to join me.

You know that saying “preaching to the choir”?  Well that’s what this blog post is for me.  In fact it might just be for me and this is my way of journaling and reminding myself of what the Father spoke to my heart on Sunday.  But I have a feeling, it might encourage and help focus those of us in ministry with the gift we have been given through the local church.  Maybe not, but I hope so.

Ben and I are worship leaders at a wonderful little church in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  It is simple and messy.  It’s not perfect but it’s perfect for us.  We have found such a beautiful home – a safe place in our church.  We’ve been with it in the beginning and have seen God’s hand through all the details.  As a church, we are open and honest.  We welcome all.  We discuss the hard stuff.  We cry with one another.  We encourage and edify.  But most of all, we seek the heart of God as a people, striving to be “a community shaped by the Gospel for the renewal of all things.”  

We have been leading worship together for over 10 years.  Separately for a good 15-20.  Worship is intertwined in who we are as individuals and a couple.  We have seen an explosive knowledge and growth of worship music in these years.  I remember when Dennis Jernigan and Darlene Zschech came on the worship music scene. The prayer of my heart was to have the influence they had when it came to worship music and leading the world towards the heart of God through this thing I found God in.  It is still a strong desire of my heart.  Nothing is wrong with that.  

But something has taken place in worship…just like with anything, an industry is developed and somewhat perverts the purity of what it starts with.  Does that make sense?  Suddenly people are inspired and running towards making the next “hit worship song” instead of writing from a place of inspiration from the Father.  We chase after catchy melodies and things that worked in one song that should work in another…and it’s skewed with a lot of people in ministry.  We have the opportunity and honor to know many in the worship industry who have a large influence and in those raw moments of vulnerability, staying true to the purity of what worship is supposed to be birthed from…is a struggle. 

We were signed to a label in October and it is such an honor to have people believe in your gifting and talent and want the world to know it on a grander scale.  That’s not what this is about.  This is about an internal struggle I have had to make something of the gift we’ve been given through being a signed artist.  I’ve carried a weight to do something with this.  We’ve asked ourselves over and over “what does this look like for Ben & Noelle” and there are lots of things that come to mind…but in the waiting for clarification, I’ve gotten anxious.  I’ve carried guilt for not “chasing” what I thought I should be chasing.  Let me clarify, this pressure comes from me, not a label or industry or anything…me.  

So on Sunday, as we are encouraging our congregation to lift their hands and ask for healing to come, I felt the gentle voice of the Holy Spirit “this is what you have been given…this is what you are to be about”. People.  The church.  Knowing the stories of our people and loving them through moments of worship so they have the courage to lift their heads…to sing out…to lean into the goodness of God.  We must, we must, we must be good stewards of the gift God has given us through the local church.  As people in ministry, PEOPLE must be our driving force.  Not exposure, not success, not fame, not influence, not the next hit song, not even an income.  Someone walked through those doors carrying a load and they need you to remind them they are not alone.  They need their eyes to be opened and hearts to be encouraged through the gifting God has given you. That is a gift YOU have been given.  Forgive us, God, for seeking anything different.

I want to make sure I’m being clear in saying there is nothing wrong with being a part of the industry.  We love being a part of it.  Nothing is wrong with making music and writing songs and nothing is wrong with having success because of that.  This is just a sweet and kind reminder to myself and to others, of what should be our inspiration and driving force behind the music.  And if we are being honest, it’s very easy to lose sight of that.  Get to know your people. Know their stories.  Know their hearts and what we as a people need to be reminded of in our times of worship. Be inspired by your people.  Birth songs from that.  And maybe that song might not be on the top 100 worship songs, but it did something for your people.  Your local church is what you are to be a good steward of.  You’re needed there.  Social media paints a picture of what ministry is and it so skewed.  So skewed.  Ministry is ugly and hard and messy but it’s beautiful and gracious and kind.  It’s Jesus. 

Bottom line, know your people.  Love them.  Do right by them.  Lead them.  Give them permission to trust you with their stories.  This is the work of God.  This is the honor and privilege we’ve been given in ministry.  Blessings on you friends.  Go and be about our Father’s heart.

I’ve been going over and over in my head the new abortion rulings in New York that took place yesterday. I’ve debated saying something but it’s been so heavy on my heart.  God has had  an overwhelming declaration lately in our lives, that He has given us a story to share and we must be good stewards with it.  So this is me being a good steward.

First, let me say that this is not intended to shame anyone who has chosen to abort their child.  Although our convictions are different on the matter, I don’t shame you or judge you.  I love you, embrace you and know that was not an easy decision.  Church, shame never brings lasting change, so it’s important that dialogue gets changed with this subject.  It is severe.  Believers see this subject as very severe and very heated with lots of passion behind it.  And they should.  We fight for the unborn.  This is something I will not waiver on.  It’s my conviction and understanding that every life matters and I live my life as so…including refugees, the imprisoned, women, every race and the unborn.

But I have to speak up because I’m looking at a beautiful brown eyed boy across the room who every doctor in America would have given permission to terminate his life up to birth.  I even had a friend text me this morning saying she was weeping watching the coverage because all she could think about was Pierce.  If you don’t know our story, every doctor said he wouldn’t survive.  There was no chance.  We were told over and over he wouldn’t survive, and we learned about his diagnosis at 36 weeks.  It was confirmed over and over on the ultrasound.  It was confirmed over and over and over and over.  He would not live and if he did, his quality of life would be minimal or he would only survive for days.  Even after he was born, the final call on his life came days after, when they shared he would be put in compassionate care (make him comfortable until he passes).  There was zero hope.  But then God.  

I share this because it’s one life that this world needs.  This boy was created for us…for parents who didn’t birth him…who’s birth mom chose life no matter what.  And I will be brutally honest and say that if it had gone the other way, it would have been the greatest honor and privilege to love him for just those sacred moments that he lived.  But he did live.  

I have several friends who have gotten grim diagnosis leading up to their child’s birth.  They were given zero hope…but then God.  I also have friends who birthed children who didn’t survive and would say to you today, loving them up to those breathless moments was the greatest love they’ve felt and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

My prayer is that maybe there is a mom in New York who has been given a diagnosis that now gives you permission to terminate your pregnancy.  Maybe you can’t imagine caring for a child with little hope of life or with complications or special needs BUT THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT THERE WHO WOULD.  Listen to me…your child for them is their dream come true.  We are living proof.  There are other options.  This law gives permission to let fear rule.  To say there are no other options.  But there are.

This is why my heart is so heavy.  This is what is bringing me to my knees in tears.  What if we didn’t have our Pierce?  What if?  Because every good and amazing doctor would say he wouldn’t survive.  It would have been a strong possibility and look what we would have missed out on.  I get sick to my stomach at that thought.  What if?

I don’t bridge this subject much on social media because I believe this conversation never ends in a productive result.  Having a face to face conversation allows hearts and emotions to be seen and heard and not hidden behind a computer screen.  But I’m praying this falls on the right ears.  Even those who are in favor of this bill.  Please take a moment and think of my boy.  How he’s changed our lives and the lives of so many…even complete strangers. His life mattered.  I type this as tears stream down my face.  He mattered.  He deserved a chance. And so do they…the ones who’ve been declared as acceptable to terminate now with this new law. 

Again, this is not to shame anyone who would do this.  But this is a breathing life.  A beautiful life that has purpose no matter how long they live after the womb or no matter how many special needs they have.  It’s a life worth birthing. Maybe you find yourself saying emotionally and financially you are unfit and this plays into you health…I don’t know, but there are other options.  Please consider the other options.  A miracle could take place.  Things could change.  This law is breaking my heart and I pray that Pierce knows one day that his momma couldn’t stay silent and saw that she spoke up for cases like his.  For cases like him.  May he always know that we saw worth in his life no matter what.

And for those who’s life would be in danger by birth, please go over all the physiologic effects you will encounter with ending their life.  Again, I don’t say that in a judgmental way.  I don’t pretend to even walk in your shoes for a minute.  I know what I would choose but that’s my decision.  And I know that the argument, that you should get that choice.  I see that.  I just think this law creates so much danger and loss of life that might have the possibility of being saved.

Please don’t use this blog to shame anyone.  Please don’t use it as an agenda.  Feel free to share it as a different perspective and proof that things change all the time with diagnosis’ and that even the ones who wouldn’t survive otherwise, just might.  I’m so grateful this is our story.  Please choose life for them…no matter what.

Pierce might be one the most beautiful human beings on this planet.  His little body isn’t perfect and he’ll have some hoops to jump through in the future.  He might get made fun of.  He might not get to do things that other kids get to do, but let me tell you what…that doesn’t matter.  He’s pure magic.  Pure magic.

I’ve always heard asking “what if?” is extremely dangerous…because truthfully, it borrows trouble.  Anytime I have talked to my dad about something I’m concerned about, he ALWAYS says “Don’t go borrowing trouble.”  And it’s true.  What if’s are borrowing trouble.  But in this particular instance, my what if, brings me to my knees.  It shakes me to the core and usually leaves me in a puddle of tears.  It’s vital I ask myself this “what if” daily.

Six years ago, we began our adoption journey.  We had experienced loss and disappointment.  We had lost a child.  We had stress on our marriage; it was a difficult time.  We always knew we wanted to adopt but didn’t know when it would happen in our family plan.  We started the process of adoption from Ethiopia, one being that’s where we felt led to adopt from, but to be honest, an international adoption seemed safer to us. We didn’t want to face the disappointment of a birth mom changing her mind.  We didn’t want an open adoption.  The very thought of that scared us to death.  I had dreamed of being a mom my entire life and the thought of sharing that with someone, freaked me out.  I didn’t want to share my children.  I think every mother can understand that.  But God had other plans.  All that I had planned in my head, what I had envisioned for us a family, was completely different than what God had planned, and thank goodness for that.

When we adopted Pierce, we had agreed to an open adoption.  It was scary.   It was really scary.  I’ll never forget the day she came to say goodbye to him.  Ben and I were a wreck before she even got there.  I was so scared she was going to change her mind.  And there’s no judgment there…I get it.  In fact, that’s what scared us the most.  Here was this incredible child, and the thought of choosing another family for him to grow up in, baffles me…floors me…humbles me…brings me to my knees.  I’ve said it before – I am so grateful for adoption, but I don’t know if I could do it.  These women are my heroes.  What took place in that room that day, ruined us.  We saw a mother grieve over her child.  We saw her hold him and weep as she held him close to her.  I saw the struggle, the utter torment of saying goodbye.  And just like that, all I wanted to do was share my children.  I desperately wanted her in his life.   And then this beautiful family was birthed. More beautiful than I could imagine.

June 27, 2016 our little Rose bud was born.  Again, we watched this beautiful mother say goodbye and it wrecked me.  Fear led up to that moment.  I couldn’t quite celebrate until I knew our birth mom was secure in her decision.  Again…this woman…I just can’t even describe the love we have for her.  I will never understand why she chose us.  Unless you have experienced adoption, you don’t quite understand these things that go through your head.  I know those of you reading this that know us, think “well look at you guys…you provide a wonderful home and life for these kids. I know why she chose you.”  And I see that, but until you experience this, you still don’t understand and it humbles you daily.

February 16, 2018, John Merrick was born.  This birth opened my eyes to so many things and the whole point of this particular blog.  You see when Pierce was born, because of all the complications, we were in a different hospital with him than birth mom.  We were alone with him from day one.  With Rosie, we were able to have our own room and I was able to do skin to skin from the moment she was born.  Birth mom recovered in another room and got her time with Rosie and we did as well.  With Merrick, we roomed with birth mom.  I truthfully didn’t know how this was going to go.  I was nervous. I didn’t want to invade on her time with him.  I ddin’t want to step on toes.  But this experience alone has to be the most beautiful and redeeming one of all of them.  This doesn’t negate our other experiences, it just shifted things for me…for our family…for our future.

Our birth mom had a little girl between Pierce and Rosie that she had chosen to parent.  It is our heart that our children know her and know her as their sibling.  It will take work and effort but 100% worth it to us.  At one point in our time with birth mom and dad, their daughter came to visit.  Pierce came up to the hospital with Ben and him and his sister (not Rosie) played together for an hour or so and I felt the Holy Spirit say “you could have missed out on all of this because of your fear.”  It wasn’t in a disciplinary way but more of a “aren’t you glad you didn’t give into your fear?”  It will never leave me.

That moment is engrained in my head forever.  You see, fear has taken a lot from me.  I think if we are honest with ourselves, fear robs a lot of us of some beautiful things.  Could this have gone the other way? Absolutely.  There could have been pain.  There could have been grief.  I’m not saying it’s everyone story, but something I have learned through the ups and downs, is as long as I have Him, it’s going to be okay.  It will still hurt.  It will still be hard, but I’m not alone and because of that, I can face that fear and take the risk and trust that no matter what, He will meet me there.  But here’s the other side of it…it can be beautiful…it can be redeeming…it can be better than you can imagine.  That is where I find myself daily.

So as you can see, my what if, scares me.  What if we had said, “nope, this is too risky…too scary…the possibility of it all hurts too much”. What if?  Do you see what all we would have missed out on?  Do you see that the risk is worth it?  What is staring you in the face that you won’t approach because it’s too scary?  WHAT IF, my friends…what if?  You are not alone.  You are not forgotten.  You are not out to sea on your own in the middle of a storm.  He is there.  He’s always there.  Let Him rise up in you and be your strength…”because He lives, I can face tomorrow…because He lives, all fear is gone”. Let Easter be this beautiful reminder that He keeps His promises.  He rose from the dead (I mean, that’s a big one) means He’ll keep His promise of never leaving your side.  You have the creator of the universe by your side.  Don’t let fear be your ruler.  Don’t let fear dictate your future. (I’m preaching to myself right now :)). Take that scary next step. Put your yes on the table. your world will be rocked but you are not alone…What if? What if?

Sometimes, I find myself daydreaming about Pierce being in grade school.  I wonder what he will look like, who will be his friends and to be honest, I usually end up tearing up.  I look at his little demeanor and although I see one miracle after another, I know kids will see a little boy who is smaller then them.  They will see a hand with only 4 fingers on it.  They will see a shorter arm and neck.  I thank God that there will be a lot of them that see those things and it mean nothing to them, but then there will be some who will poke fun.  He will come home one day in tears and it will tear me up inside.

I have a sweet little niece who’s best friend in the world is a little boy who is shorter than her.  My little niece sees nothing different about him…just a really good friend…her best friend.  I’ve watched their friendship and often thanked her parents for teaching her that different isn’t different.  That we are all the same inside.  I pray daily for friends like my niece to come along side of Pierce and celebrate him without hesitation.

First of all, this is not a blog post about supporting Trump (AT ALL) to be honest, I have been disappointed in some of his decisions and broken hearted for the many they have and will continue to effect.  Let’s just take that argument off the table.  This is not a blog about supporting the President.  This is an encouragement, a charge, if you will, to be responsible with your words.  I’ve been wrestling with these thoughts for some time now…really since before the election, but even more so now that we are in the thick of Trump’s decisions.

We live in a society where we constantly say bullying has to end, and yet I’ve never been so appalled by the words I see written on a daily occurrence through social media.  “Bullying 101” starts at home.  Most “bullies” are either bullied at home through siblings and parents or they are in an environment where this kind of talk is acceptable and encouraged.  They watch from example and then act out.  It also stems from insecurity and a lack of confidence for most children.  “I’ll put you down so I can make myself feel better.”

I watched this week as Kathy Griffin posted a photo of herself holding our President’s head.  Although, many were appalled (and rightly so, he’s still the President), I know that many thought it was fitting and laughed.  I am a strong believer that respect is earned and not given so I’m not saying you should respect the man, but you need to respect the office…if anything, because your kids are watching.  They listen to your conversations at home or read your words online.  The name calling “idiot, dummy, stupid…” they take those things into account and if they see you saying and writing those words, what’s to stop them from using those words against others outside of your home?  It is possible to disagree with someone and not call them names.  It is possible to disagree with someone and not spew hate all over social media.  And before the Republicans reading this, cheer, I saw the same thing when Obama was President.

My point…it has to end.  We make fun of his kids, his wife, the way his face looks, his hair, his clothes, the way he moves his hands…and yes, he makes fun of people too, I’m not excusing his behavior and I am not letting him off the hook.  I am saying, that we are better than that.  We have to be better than that.  For the sake of our children growing up, we have to be better.  I need you to be better.  My kids need you to be better.  We need kids seeing kids for kids and not differences, whether it’s beliefs, disabilities, looks, who their parents are…they need to be kids.  Kids should get to be kids.

And it’s not just with our President.  I see it everyday with mom shaming, parenting issues, you name it and there are haters out there commenting, encouraging people to kill themselves…WHAT IS THIS?!?!  When did this become a thing that was/is okay?  How do we bat an eye at this behavior and not stand up for what’s right?  I’ll tell you why…because there seems to be little accountability behind the screen of a computer.  You can say whatever you want…make fun of a celebrities clothes, their weight, their hair…it’s everywhere and I am done with it.  We thrive on satire, encourage it, laugh at it, at the sake of someone else.  If you want to call people names, please do it in your car when nobody is listening, or here’s something you can do…just don’t say anything at all.  I love that social media has given a voice to a lot of things and people but I also hate the voices who have used it as an excuse to bully…because that’s what it is.

It starts with you, parents.  If your kids or other’s kids overhear you calling people names or commenting on someone’s attire or the way they look…they’ll follow suit…and I need good friends for my kids.  Making fun of people will not be allowed in our home…EVER.  Please be responsible with your words and actions towards those you disagree with or with those who are different than you – who believe different than you – who see things different than you…please be responsible.  Stop calling people idiots, stupid, dummy…you’re smarter than that.  Encourage diversity in your friendships so your kids will do the same with theirs.  Different is good.  It’s necessary.  My friends, please be careful with what comes out of your mouth.  Our kids are watching.

When you experience the beginning stages of loss, the mornings always seem to be the worst.  It’s a reminder of reality; that it wasn’t just a bad dream.  It’s a push into a new day without what you once had.  Loss is such a difficult thing and so hard to process.  This is my second morning to face our loss and each day, it’s becoming more difficult.

Monday evening, we received a phone call that you pray you never receive when you’re in the adoption process (especially 10 days before your due date).  To make a long story short, the father claimed he never knew and he will not being giving consent.  The waters are muddy on what is truth and what is not, but they will not be placing their child.  We have lost our son.  We have both had moments where the breath has been knocked out of us and as we sat at a table tonight, looking at each other, we had no words.  Tears but no words.

You go through shock and then it sets in that all the dreams you once had, even the coming weeks, are gone.  The dream of your child meeting their sibling, helping with their bottle, changing tiny diapers, wondering what they will look like or how their little personalities will be…you mourn the future.  You mourn the dreams.  You mourn the idea of being parents to two little boys.  We know we will have more children.  That’s not the point.  The point is, we won’t have this child.  I won’t get to rock him in his nursery when we return home from his birth place.  I won’t get to kiss his face or hold his hand or put the boys in matching outfits (yes, I dreamed of that – I’m that mom :))

Last night we had worship rehearsal for the weekend and once again, as it’s always been in the past, I was put in a position where I was forced to put praise on my lips.  We’d all be lying if we said that doing that hasn’t been a struggle at one time or another.  As we sang each song over and over, it became easier and easier to lift my voice.  I’ve never been mad at God during this.  I can honestly say that, I just feel betrayed and violated…tricked.  I will never understand why the process for Ben and I to have a family has been so difficult, but I know that if it means we end up with a child like Pierce, we will go through hell and back.

Today, a song called “Heroes” by Amanda Cook has been my anthem.  Here’s a breakdown of what the lyrics mean to me in this time.  I hope it’s an encouragement to you.

“I will trust here in the mystery, I will trust in you completely”

I would be lying if I didn’t say this is a struggle to say.  In fact every time I sing these particular lyrics, I can’t make it through without crying, but I will continue to say them until my heart believes what I’m saying with my mouth.  This is a mystery.  Much of what we walk through is a mystery and the only hope we have is we can trust Him.

“Awake my soul to sing, with Your breath in me, I will worship”

I don’t know what the meaning of the lyrics are for the writer, but for me, it’s asking God to put His breath in me to worship.  Sometimes we don’t even have breath in us to lift our voice in worship, but through Him, through His breath, we can worship.

“You taught my feet to dance upon disappointment”

Now this part of the song, breaks me.  Even before this news, it broke me.  The key word that pops out to me is “taught”  It’s not something we just do naturally.  He teaches us to dance on disappointment and I believe it’s one dance lesson I will take over and over.  He holds my hand through it all.  He hasn’t left my side.  Trust me, I’m in the valley, but He’s with me.  He’s with you.  He hasn’t left you…even though it may feel that way.  He will breath His breath in you.  You will raise your voice to sing and you will dance upon disappointment.

We thank everyone for your prayers.  We ask that you continue to cover us with them.  We are broken and sad.  We are in the mourning stages and it’s hard.  Every package we open up of baby clothes or nursery items is like a knife in our hearts.  Anytime I hear his name in my head, my heart sinks.  We prayed for this boy.  We dreamed of this boy. And now we grieve for this boy. God will redeem this.  He always does.  We trust Him in the waiting.

We have held his little hands for exactly 356 days.  I had dreamed about him for a very long time.  I dreamed about singing to him.  I dreamed about kissing his sweet face.  I imagined what silly songs his dad would make up, while they played.  I dreamed and dreamed for years and years.  I also dreamed of watching my belly grow; of feeling the little kicks and movements of life inside of me.  I wondered what I would look like with a bursting belly; would I have that pregnancy glow?  I’ve dreamed about that since I was a little girl.  BUT, I also dreamed of looking into the face of my child, knowing they looked nothing like me, not even the color of their skin, and trying to convince myself that I didn’t carry that child in my own body.

There are many fears when it comes to having a child, both biologically and through adoption.  Being a parent is scary, no matter the circumstances.  No matter how much you prepare, you will never be prepared enough when you look into their eyes for the first time.  Your heart is mush.  You are putty in hands that are the size of a quarter.  When I saw Pierce for the first time, everything in my body shifted.  I had carried that child, maybe not physically, but emotionally.  That child has grown inside of me for years.  I don’t know what labor feels like but I will tell you this…I know what it feels like to birth something you’ve been waiting for.  There are so many times that I forget that Pierce didn’t come from my body.  He is a Kilgore.  He is his father, in so many ways.  I also see his birth mom, when he smiles.  He radiates her selfless ways and beauty.  Pierce isn’t a backup plan.  He isn’t a consolation prize.  He’s our first choice.  He is our child, through and through.  He’s everything I dreamed up, from day one.  He’s my dream come true.

This past weekend, we sang two separate songs, that both mentioned orphans, now having homes.  We were rehearsing at home, while I held Pierce, and when we got to the line “The orphans now have a home”, we lost it.  From the moment we knew about Pierce, he was wanted.  He was chosen.  He was ours, so referring to him as an orphan, is a struggle for me, because he’s just so much apart of me.  I feel as though he was never an orphan.  It’s supernatural, really.  Something I just can’t explain to those who have never experienced it.  He has been ours from the day he was conceived.  Nonetheless, he was an orphan.  We all were.  The spiritual picture you experience through your own child, being adopted, kind of rocks your world.

I grew up in a wonderful home with an incredible father.  I knew if there was something I needed, I could go to him, without hesitancy, and he would find a way for me to get what I needed…not wanted 🙂 but needed.  I also knew that if a friend had a need, I could go to my parents and they would try to figure out a way to get that need met for them, as well.  My father did and still does an incredible job of taking care of his kids.  It’s his honor (he tells us), his privilege.  I could sleep peacefully at night, knowing my dad was going to protect me.  I had/have a secure sense in what being taken care of, felts/feels like.  We feel that way with Pierce.  There’s not one thing this child will need, that he won’t receive.  We will exhaust every resource.  He has access to whatever we have or what our families have.  HE’S OUR CHILD.

Think about the spiritual aspect of being God’s child.  When I do, I hang my head, and say, “Father, I’m so sorry.”  How He longs to take care of us.  It’s his desire; His pleasure.  He has adopted each of us.  What He has is ours already, simply because we are His kids.  There’s nothing like a Father taking care of His child.  When you’re taken care of, you can have the faith of a child.  You can rest, knowing He’s taking care of you. You can depend on who He says He is.  He’s faithful.  He’s constant.  He loves you more than you can imagine. I get that I have a healthy aspect of God as a Father, because I have such a wonderful one.  I get that it’s a struggle for some to see God as someone who longs to take care of us, love us, and hold us when we ache.  But He does.  He really does.  Our Heavenly Father, created the universe.  HE CREATED THE UNIVERSE.  He’s the ultimate Father.  The one who will never leave you.  He will never forsake you.  He sacrificed His Son for you, so that we could spend eternity with Him.  YOU HAVE ACCESS TO THE ONE WHO CREATED YOU.  You are no longer an orphan.  You are adopted.  You are His dream come true.