I wrote this in September of 2023, when Beth and I were practically still newlyweds (married just over 4 years when I wrote this, now we’re approaching 7).
Beth and I had a fight the other day.
I’ve been reading the Church Handbook for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
The day after that fight, and Beth and I had of course made up, I read this:
Husband and Wife
“A husband and wife are intended to progress together toward eternal life (see 1 Corinthians 11:11).
This is your quarterly reminder that marriage is HARD. There’s a reason it’s so important in God’s eternal plan.
“A couple makes this covenant (covenant of celestial marriage) when they receive the marriage sealing ordinance in the temple. This covenants it the foundation of an eternal family.”
“When faithfully kept, it allows their marriage to endure forever. Ultimately, thy can become like God (see Doctrine and Covenants 132:19-20).
Again, in case you missed it the first time, another reminder, there is a reason marriage is so HARD.
If you’re reading this and your marriage is hard, don’t give up. If you’re reading this and your marriage is getting hard, don’t give up. If you’re reading his and your marriage has been hard, don’t give up. Rely on and trust each other.
“God has commanded husbands and wives to cleave to each other (see Genesis 2:24; Doctrine and Covenants 42:22). In this context, the word cleave means to be completely devoted and faithful to someone. Married couples cleave together by loving and serving each other.”
And just one more important reminder from the handbook:
“Cleaving also includes total fidelity between husband and wife.”
Marjorie Hinckley was once told by a lady when she was a newlywed to Gordon B. Hinckley, “Don’t get discouraged, the first 10 years of marriage are hard.” Not the first 6 months or the first year: the first 10 years. You are combining your life with someone. There will inevitably be differences in living, habits, thoughts, plans. You are literally becoming one with another individual. What could be more difficult than that? What can be more humbling than giving a part of yourself a way for someone you love? What can better illustrate that love than sacrificing for your significant other?
Marriage is a sacrifice, and it’s meant to be. That’s the point I think the world forgets sometimes. Marriage is not supposed to be all gain and all for me, me, me. Like being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints isn’t all flowers and blessings –being a member of this church is a sacrifice – of time, money, and effort. Being married is also a sacrifice. If it wasn’t a sacrifice, it wouldn’t be worth having.
The most important and valuable things in this world require sacrifice.
I recently heard the fascinating idea that when couples divorce, they lose memories. It is after divorce that they learn their memories weren’t theirs at all but shared memories. When separated, divorced couples literally lose memories. Because those memories weren’t just one or the others. Those memories were joint memories. When split, when separated, when broken, when divorced, those memories disappear.
I found that to be so interesting.
I love my wife. I am grateful for her. There are things she does that make my life less enjoyable- but I couldn’t live without her. She is the mother of my daughters and the most important person in my life and I’m sorry every day that I take her for granted. Marriage is hard, but she is my partner. I’ve grown so much and connected with her on so many levels the first few years of marriage, I’m interested to see how far this merging of mind and personality can go. To become one.
1 Corinthians 11:11 “Nevertheless neither is the man without the woman, neither the woman without the man, in the Lord.”
“The man and the woman are intended to learn from, strengthen, bless, and complete each other.” – Elder Bednar.
I recently saw a compilation video. This video showed dads seeing their daughters with their boyfriends for the first time.
This made me think about when this will happen to me one day.
I started to think about Ivy, Sage, and Wren one day growing up. I started to think about my Ivy, my partner, my girl who cuddles with me at every chance and always wants to play. I thought about her growing up.
I started to feel an intense pain in my chest. Like serious, gotta stop thinking this kind of pain.
I don’t know if other parents get this.
You know those “memories” videos that iPhones create? IPhone takes all your photos for a year or something and puts them together with emotional music in the background. I can watch them in very limited spurts. I will definitely start bawling my eyes out. Tears are the best case scenario. Worst case, the aforementioned heart pain extends to my whole body and it feels like my body will explode.
This will sound like an exageration. It is not. It is a real feeling.
You’ll notice above when I talked about Ivy cuddling with me and always wanting to play, I stopped there. I could have listed a million other examples of the loving affection between us. I could have used more examples with Sage and Wren.
But as I type these thoughts and consider them getting older, my chest starts to hurt, and my eyes fill, and I have to stop. There’s a reason I’m not getting more detailed.
My love for them is so all encompassing, so palpable, so excruciating, that I feel physical, overwhelming pain when I think about it one day changing. I know it has to change, one day. Until that day…
Having three kids now five and under (because Ivy is five, yeah, let’s not talk about it), is extremely, extremely hard. It’s taxing. It feels like almost every day is a marathon that never ends. Sometimes I’ll find myself thinking I just want it to be over. I want them to be able to pour their own cereal and put on their own pants and wipe their own bum.
Then Ivy started putting on her own pants and pouring her own cereal. Sage started wiping her own bum.
And as I type this, and the screen becomes blurry, I remember to embrace the bum wipings and all the mundane. Because one day might be the last day Ivy says, “Daddy, do you want to play with me?”
I hope that day never comes. But I guess it probably will.
Okay. I need to stop now.
Am I the only one? What is this love? A father for his daughters.
You’ll notice a one year gap there where two trips were never shared. Here is our trip report from April of 2024 when I took Ivy for her second time to Six Flags and Sage for her first.
(*I have notes from this trip that I’ve used to remember the details. I noticed I sometimes flipped between past and present tense. Normally I would fix this, but I think it adds to the chaotic feeling I felt during that trip, so I left it for your reading experience).
This trip started off with all sorts of unfortunate adventures. Firstly, Beth was supposed to come, but she hadn’t been feeling well for a few days. As we packed up and started driving, she felt so sick she said she couldn’t do it. I turned around and dropped Beth back off at home.
Secondly, we had a car trouble adventure. That deserves a post of its own, for another time. For the purpose of this trip summary, I’ll just say we left our home at 1:00pm and our 6-hour drive turned into 10 hours when we pulled into the hotel just before 11:00pm.
Once on the road (after dropping Beth off and getting our car fixed):
Our first pitstop was at a gas station. We went into the bathroom. The first thing I’ve come to appreciate about road trips with toddlers is how ridiculous it is. Gone are the days of swerving in front of a pump, getting gas, sprinting to the bathroom, washing hands, sprinting back to car, on the road again. 5 minutes tops.
On this trip with a 3-year-old and a 19-month-old, every moment trying to herd them into a gas station was complete comedy. I adopted a wide-armed, wide-stance, crouch strategy to try to usher them to our destination. Inevitably Ivy would veer off, “Candy!” Sage would veer off, “Cup!” Ivy would go another direction. It would take us a full 10 minutes to get to the bathroom.
(*Looking back on videos and pictures and… I actually can’t believe I took two girls that small to Six Flags. It was awesome!)
I finally got Ivy and Sage filed into the stall with me. I checked if Ivy needed to go and begged the girls not to touch anything. Before I could clean the toilet seat that was covered in pee Sage slapped both hands down on it. While I tried to manage Sage, I asked Ivy again to please not touch anything and like a fly to honey she slowly started moving her water bottle to the toilet seat.
“No!” I yelled.
Her water bottle gently touched the toilet seat.
Ivy explained that she tried to tell Pria (the name of her water bottle at the time) not to touch, but Pria wanted to give it a kiss.
Face. Palm.
The seat was cleaned, bathroom was used, hands were thoroughly washed, cup was sanitized (it was just the bottom that touched, get over it), and we were off! Just kidding. At least 20 minutes to decide what treat they wanted, getting it, purchasing, reloading into the car. And we were off!
Every stop was like this. This plus the van issues are why a 6 hour drive turned into 10.
Another funny moment was when we officially crossed into California. I excitedly told the girls we made it to California (partially in disbelief that we got that far). Ivy looked out the window and said, “California looks like a lot of dirt.”
We made it into the hotel like thieves under the cover of night. I set up the pack and play for Sage to sleep in. Ivy laid next to the pack and play and had to scrape her fingers across the material until I asked her to stop… a dozen times.
I was organizing stuff in the room. I was in the bathroom and I hear Ivy scream at the top of her lungs (really, the top of her lungs) “NO SAGEYYYYY!!!!!!!”
I got into bed and wrote these highlights at 12:11am before falling asleep. Onto day 2.
Day 2. Beach. 7:15am-9:15pm.
We woke up and Ivy, Sage, and I got ready in the dark to avoid waking Arielle and Garrick who arrived at 1 in the morning. Little did they know, I had just fallen asleep myself. Sage woke up first. I got her out of bed and started changing her and getting her ready. Ivy woke up and laid peacefully in bed. I laid next to her, gave her a kiss, and asked if she wanted breakfast. She got up. Ivy LOVES hotel breakfast.
Things have a tendency to not be wherever they were left. I suspect it’s due to Sage’s habit of moving anything she can get her hands on to anywhere else. This made getting ready in the morning more difficult.
Breakfast. I ask Ivy to save us a table. She refuses. I don’t try with Sage as I know she won’t leave my side. I feel like Mother Duck. Ivy keeps asking for a doughnut later. Takes me forever to realize she’s talking about bagels. Ivy dumps a cup of cranberry juice all over the bench and floor. I think it had something to do with Sage but it’s hard to decipher exactly how the cause and effect came to be.
Sage eats like normal – a ton. I’m still searching for the 8 sausage links Ivy apparently ate because I’m struggling to believe she ate them all.
On the Ivy eating note, she took this Six Flags trip seriously. We always tell her to eat so she can get big and strong for Six Flags. It’s like she realized she’s been slacking off in the gym and now her max out day has arrived. She was trying to make up time. She ate her entire burger on the drive to California and now this breakfast of almost a dozen sausage links along with other food and has been snacking and eating nonstop. This is a girl I haven’t seen finish a plate in a year.
We go back to the room and wake up Arielle and Garrick. Ivy is excited to see them. Sage is so shy. She won’t leave my side. We go to the beach.
Beach – Ivy refuses to go near the water, Sage refuses to leave my side for fear that Garrick or Arielle will scoop her up and she’ll never see me again. We build sandcastles.
Oh, the first time the water hit Sage’s feet she had the craziest reaction. It was like her whole body shut down. Her legs buckled and she started to trust fall. It was the craziest thing. I caught her.
Garrick and Arielle went to get food. The girls and I hung out, but it was cold, and Ivy and Sage were hungry and cold and tired and I only had 2 arms. This led to an epic meltdown. We were moments away from an equally epic, comfortable cozy nap with both girls in my lap laying in a tube when it all fell apart.
It all started to settle down when I made Ivy a sandwich. Ivy threw Sage’s sandwich in the sand. I gave Sage Ivy’s sandwich. Meltdown continued. Packed up and left. Went to the hotel and got in the hot tub and pool. Sage loved splashing her feet in the hot tub. Everything was awesome until Ivy pushed Sage to the ground.
We went back to the room and had a great shower that audibled into a bath because a shower for 3 wasn’t working. Bath went surprisingly well despite Sage getting the bar of soap, playing with it, then rubbing her eyes.
We got out of the tub. Meltdowns ensued. Not uncommon when girls are tired and cold. Add hungry and it’s all over. Garrick and Arielle’s friend Jacob who was also staying in the room is locked out and knocking. Sage, Ivy, and I are naked and I’m chasing them trying to do lotion and clothes. They’re both screaming. I get them both into bottoms and let Jacob in. He seems like he doesn’t want to be there. I can’t blame him.
Ivy, Sage, and I go to dinner at Denny’s because it’s across the street and convenience tops any other consideration. It’s approaching 6 o’clock and Sage hasn’t napped. She will expire at any moment. Our time is short.
(*This is where my notes from back during the actual trip end. The rest I will have to go off memory. Never fear, we have lots of pictures to fill in the gaps. But this will be more of a summary).
What I remember about Denny’s was Ivy and Sage getting their food a full 15 minutes before me. This led to them being long done with their food by the time I started trying to eat. I let Ivy run amock around the basically empty restaurant with no guilt. Hopefully they learned a valuable lesson about serving two toddlers food 15 minutes before the single adult.
The pictures below indicate I had plenty of time to take pictures before my food came.
This picture was taken of Sage before I looked away for 4 seconds and turned back to ketchup being on her face, arms, chair, and table.
Needless to say (just look at Ivy’s face in above picture) we went back to the hotel and crashed. Well, sometime around 9:15pm.
(*EDIT 4/22/2026 – I found old notes from this trip, so I’m going to insert them here, taking us to Six Flags):
The girls are amazing at Denny’s. Ivy orders mac n cheese. I make the mistake of ordering Sage chicken strips because it quickly becomes obvious she wants mac n cheese. You can see how that’s a problem. Luckily she loved the hashbrown side and Ivy was being so great and shared her mac n cheese with Sage. We had to get a third kids menu with crayon because Ivy said hers was for me. My food comes 5 minutes after Sage and Ivy’s. This is a problem because Ivy is done eating by the time my food arrives and is still hot. Ivy has a lot of time to kill. She starts roaming Denny’s – moving chairs, trashcans, table top arrangements. I let her because Denny’s started this chain of events with an unintelligent order of food deliver. I finally get to look down at my food and focus on it for 10 seconds, take a bite, enjoy it. I look up. In those ten seconds Sage has covered both her hands, arms, face, table, and is working on the arms of her booster seat with ketchup. Maybe it was 15 seconds. Sorry Denny’s.
We pay the check and leave. Usually I try to tidy up a little before leaving a restaurant in complete shambles. Our server says not to worry about it and I decide in this case to take her advice. We leave which usually entails vice gripping Sage’s hand so she doesn’t run in the street. Ivy stays right by my side because she’s a good girl.
Before going to the hotel we stop at the van to get some stuff. I’m leaning in pulling stuff out and keeping Sage between my legs so she doesn’t run into the street. I turn around after 30 seconds and Ivy is gone. I freak out. I run around the van and she’s on the other side. I grab her and bring her over to Sage. I kneel down and tell her I was worried because I didn’t know where she was and we were near the street and that she can’t do that when we’re by the street. She looks back at me and has a serious look on her face and is (actually) listening. She says “Sorry Daddy” and holds my pocket (my hands are full) the whole way back to the hotel without me having to ask.
We get back to the hotel. I expect Sage to go straight to bed but it’s Ivy that seems tired and lies in a bed and watches a show. Sage meanwhile sprints back and forth in the room for 40 minutes straight. She only stops to try to steal Ivy’s water bottle, or whatever else will infuriate Ivy. I get everything ready for Six Flags next day while Sage sprints a marathon and eats Teddy Grahams while Ivy relaxes.
I have to leave the room multiple times for water, something in the car, something else in the car. I always bring Sage because I’ve learned leaving the two girls alone always results in Sage crying when I get back. The third time I approach the door I hear Ivy yelling. Oh no. I open the door quickly. From the bed she’s saying “Hey Dad” at the top of her lungs because she wants to ask me if she can have some M&Ms. And here I was panicking.
Sage finally has her meltdown because I make her come back in the room. Sage gets changed and put in bed. She goes from an hour straight of running around to lying right down – in a room with multiple TVs and lights on – and goes to sleep. She’s asleep before her head hits the pillow. I know she’s tired because after I turn off the lights Ivy proceeds to get my reading light and try to flash it in Sage’s eyes. When I take it and put away I turn back around to Ivy in the pack n play on top of Sage. I yank Ivy out and Sage sleeps like nothing happened.
Long frustrated explanation of why I hated the water she got from Denny’s which turned into the only water she’d use for the night. She stares at me with intense focus. When I set aside that cursed water bottle and give her the water bottle she always has in bed because it doesn’t leak she proceeds to show me a dozen times how it doesn’t leak. 15 minutes after quietly lying peacefully next to me, she abruptly sits up and says “Daddy, it leaks” and proceeds to try multiple demonstrations showing it leaks. It doesn’t leak but I tell her fine we’ll put it away and take it from her. She says no she wants it and I say fine it doesn’t leak anyway and give it back to her. She lies back down with her water bottle.
Second straight day I was unable to quietly meditate for 10 minutes until they were both asleep. That’s 10 minutes. Think about that. Not one uninterrupted 10 minute segment in 48 hours. It’s nonstop. The irony is I need the meditation to refill my battery of patience but I can’t get that amount of time to even refill.
Ivy just wants to be by me. I make a comment about how maybe it’s just time to turn off all the lights and go to bed and Ivy says, “Yeah let’s go to bed I sleep with you.” Oh. She’s really tired. And oh, she just wants to be with me.
I know in day two I highlighted a lot of the lowlights. The meltdowns, tears, frustrations, lost tempers, screaming, messes, and challenges are all intermixed with I love yous and I’m so happy to be here with you and I’m so happy for this time we have together. There was so much of that too. But this is the real report. All the good, bad, and ugly of it.
All the frustrations but then I type this with Ivy cuddled up to my arm and Sage dead asleep to our left. I love these little girls so much it’s almost unfathomable.
I went back and added the sweet moments to balance out the frustrating ones. (*END OF INSERTED NOTES)
The next day was the whole reason we were there. Six Flags! I don’t have any notes from the day. But I know it was filled with a million fun moments, funny comments from Ivy and Sage, and lots of laughs.
We took the girls to Williams for the Polar Express. If you live in Las Vegas or Phoenix, this is a must-do activity if you have children under the age ~9.
This was Ivy’s third time and Sage’s second time. This trip was for Ivy’s fifth birthday.
We came into Williams on a Friday. We arrived at the hotel 30 minutes before we were able to check in. So we hung out in the hotel lobby, walking around, writing to Santa, and drinking hot chocolate. We got into our room around 3:00pm, got settled, and started thinking about dinner.
We went to a restaurant in town then visited the shops. The girls did an awesome job and had a lot of fun.
We got back to the hotel around 6:15pm.
Ivy and Sage were setup together on the pull out couch. We put on Bluey and let them watch.
I’ll recap the next four hours in one word: chaos.
I don’t want to give all the details. Just know things were not going well. Bedtime is hard.
Things culminated in me doing something I regretted to Sage. Afterwards, she was lying down on the bed, stoic, sad, unmoving.
This balance being a dad who is loving, patient, caring, kind, and understanding but also enforcing rules and having a strict expectation for behavior is the most difficult thing to balance.
I tried to apologize to Sage. I tried to comfort her and tell her I loved her and she was nonresponsive. That is very unlike Sage.
I proceeded to get a bottle for Wren who was crying.
Amidst balancing Wren and heating a bottle in the bathroom I heard noise in the hotel room and returned to find Ivy bouncing up and down on the bed, inches from Sage’s head. It was 11pm.
I lost it.
I smacked the bed and told her to lie down. I smacked the bed two more times to make sure my point got across. It was loud. Ivy cowered. Ivy cried. I think I woke up Sage.
I started lecturing Ivy about how she was getting too old for such behavior and she needed to do better. Ivy was crying and saying I owed her an apology over and over. I told Ivy I did not owe her an apology. I looked at Sage, who was now sitting up, and said, “I owe Sage an apology.” Sage gave me a small smile.
Those moments are so crazy. Why can’t we all be like this?
Moments ago she couldn’t look at me. Now she was smiling at me, the cutest, sweetest, most innocent and loving smile.
I came back to Ivy.
I started to tell her that we had all not been doing a great job lately. I told her I could be better, Mom could be better, Sage could be better, Wren could be better, and Ivy could be better. I told Ivy that she was my big girl and she had to do better. I then told Ivy she wasn’t perfect. I started to explain that I didn’t expect her to be perfect. I just expected her to do her best. Before I could elaborate, she latched onto that statement that she wasn’t perfect. She started repeating over and over, replacing “you owe me an apology” with “I am perfect.”
I spoke very intentionally and clearly to Ivy. I reiterated that she wasn’t perfect. She got more upset. But then I told her, “I AM NOT PERFECT.” This made her pause. I told her I was not perfect and I made many mistakes. I told her I wanted to be a good dad and sometimes it was really hard. I told her we all needed to do better. I started to cry.
I was sitting on the bed near Ivy. Ivy came out from behind her covers and knelt beside me. She wrapped her arms around me, hugged me tight, and said something I hope I never forget.
She said, “Dad, you are perfect. You’re the best daddy in the whole world.”
This took my crying to sob levels. Ivy started to cry. But not like she had been, not 5-year-old tantrum or normal crying. She was really crying. She hugged my neck and held onto me and she cried on my shoulder.
I looked Ivy in the eyes and I told her thank you for what she said.
She looked back at me and told me she loved me.
How do we deserve these children?
I talked more to Ivy about how we all needed to be better and that tomorrow I was going to try to be perfect. She said she was going to be perfect too.
We went to bed. After all that, as if exhausted from a prize fight, all the girls immediately went to bed.
The next morning they all woke up like we didn’t just go 10 rounds the night before.
Children are amazing. Children are special.
Sage immediately came and started bouncing on me first thing in the morning.
Throughout that whole day, Ivy did so good. She was kind to her sisters. She was patient, helpful, and mature. She helped her cousins. She was nearly perfect. Throughout the day she would ask me, “Dad, am I being perfect?”
Yes, I told her. She was.
I’ve thought a lot about that night since. Do I regret losing my cool? I don’t know. As parents, we want to be awesome, patient, kind all the time. But sometimes, I think a child needs to see you hit a bed. Sometimes kids need to see that we get angry as parents too.
Would I have had that special moment with Ivy if she hadn’t seen me lose my cool? Would she have had the desire to be “perfect” the next day?
After losing my cool, it was extra important to be calm and show them extra love (D&C 121:43). This parenting thing is difficult. I’m trying every day to be “perfect.” I’m falling short every day. But I’m grateful for the example of these children. How quickly they forgive, move on, love so willingly and so openly. I hope I can be more like them.
*Originally written 4/19/2022, edited for posting in 2025.
I was having a discussion with my mom a frew years ago about the trend in China of younger people not wanting to have children. We talked about this trend spreading through society. This trend of young people wanting to enjoy travelling, free time, more financial freedom, and therefore, choosing to not start families or have children.
I watched an episode of a show recently. In the show, there is an extremely wealthy and powerful couple. They put off having children. The wife has gotten older and it may be too later for her to have children, but she’s thinking about children. She has a conversation with her husband. In the conversation she says, “Why have we built all this, what is it for?” And he replies, “It’s for us, we built it for ourselves.” She responds, “But if one of us dies…”
She hit on something there. If you only build in this life for yourself, and if at some point you die, what did you really build it for?
Back to that conversation with my mom years ago, we talked about how this is a sad level of selfishness spreading. How much can I travel, how much freedom can I have, how much money can I have for myself, with children being only a burden that take these things away from us. Now, of course, there are those who can’t have children and don’t have a choice. This doesn’t apply to someone in that situation at all. I’m talking about all the people my age that have decided a child isn’t worth their time, because their life is more important.
Until you give your life for another, you never truly understand your capacity to love. Until you open yourself up to the love and selfless life that is caring for a child, “selfless” is just an adjective.
I was on a long road trip with Beth and Ivy and so I was sitting in the back seat to give Ivy company. This was before Sage and Wren entered our lives. A song started playing. I was leaning over, staring right at Ivy. The lyrics of this song are meant to describe the heartache of a breakup. But as I listened to the words and applied them to the love I felt for my daughter whom I was staring at, the lyrics took on a whole new, eternal, and powerful meaning to me. For those words to take on the meaning they did, I had to apply them in a dark and sad way. I imagined what would happen if I ever lost Ivy (tears come to my eyes as I type those words). Bear with me. The topic will not stay sad and morbid.
The lyrics were from a song called Breakeven by The Script:
I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing Just prayin’ to a God that I don’t believe in ‘Cause I got time while she got freedom ‘Cause when a heart breaks no it don’t break even
Her best days will be some of my worst
…
While I’m wide awake she’s no trouble sleeping
‘Cause when a heart breaks no it don’t break even, even, no
What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you? And What am I supposed to say when I’m all choked up and you’re OK? I’m falling to pieces, yeah I’m falling to pieces
They say bad things happen for a reason But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding ‘Cause she’s moved on while I’m still grieving And when a heart breaks no it don’t break even, even, no
And what am I going to do when the best part of me was always you? And What am I supposed to say when I’m all choked up and you’re OK? I’m falling to pieces, yeah I’m falling to pieces, yeah I’m falling to pieces (One still in love while the other one’s leaving) I’m falling to pieces (‘Cause when a heart breaks no it don’t break even)
What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you? And What am I suppose to say when I’m all choked up and you’re OK? (Oh glad you’re okay now) I’m falling to pieces yeah I’m falling to pieces (oh, I’m falling, falling) yeah I’m falling to pieces (One still in love while the other one’s leaving) I’m falling to pieces (‘Cause when a heart breaks no it don’t break even)
While preparing to post this, Wren crawled to my chair and pulled herself to stand at my feet. I decided to experiment if this song is still emotional when considered in this twisted context I’ve applied to it. Yup, still tears. I only let myself brush the very edge of the surface of this hypothetical.
I can’t imagine the pain of losing a child. I can not. “What am I going to do when the best part of me was always you?”
I think the most difficult thing that could happen in this life is losing a child and my heart breaks at the mere thought of it. I feel for anyone that has to endure that pain. Just reading those lyrics, considering what I was writing 3.5 years ago, my chest started to ache at the thought. What I wrote here applies more than ever now that I have 3 daughters who I love more than life itself.
“I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing.”
“Just praying to a God that I don’t believe in.” This would ever happen to me. But I can see how it would for so many in this world. Which makes me sad. And is why I’m writing this.
“’Cause I got time while she got freedom” – I’m stuck in time while she would be free.
“Her best days will be some of my worst” – The best days for our loved ones, their return home, to heaven, is often the worst days for those left behind.
“While I’m wide awake she’s no trouble sleeping”
“They say bad things happen for a reason But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding ‘Cause she’s moved on while I’m still grieving And when a heart breaks no it don’t break even, even, no
And what am I going to do when the best part of me was always you? And What am I supposed to say when I’m all choked up and you’re OK? I’m falling to pieces, yeah.
This discussion with my mom, that moment with Ivy in the car, and these thoughts originally happened over Easter weekend three years ago.
Without the resurection, the lyrics of this song would be perfectly true. It would be impossible to go on from that sort of tragedy. But the resurection is real. Jesus Christ did conquer death. I know that Jesus Christ was resurected and that myself and my family will be resurected.
I can’t believe that I will ever be without Ivy, Sage, Wren, and Beth for too long a period of time. This life is but a blink in eternity. I look at them, and the love I have for each of them, I know the God I love would not allow this level of love in my heart, and then not allow me to be with them forever. It makes me sad that much of Christianity does not have the truth restored through Christ’s true gospel that families can be together forever. I know that Ivy will be mine for eternity. I know that Sage will be mine for eternity. I know that Wren will be mine for eternity. When I’m 100 and Ivy is 70, she will still be my daughter. When I leave this world and she stays, she will still be my daughter. When we both have left this life, she will still be my daughter.
To all those who might be reading this, and I’ve drudged up memories and feelings you have tried to suppress, to all those thinking about the loved one you so desperately miss now, my message to you is of hope.
I know that Christ suffered all of my sins so that I could be forgiven for them and overcome death through His blood and grace. I know that Christ conquered death and was resurrected, so that my family and I can be resurrected. I know that we will live together again as a family unit, because of what He did for me. This is why (though I always fall short) I’ve tried so hard to give everything to Him – my heart, my time, my love, my devotion, my life – because He already gave me everything that means anything.
I say with any authority I can muster, with full confidence and faith in the Plan of God: You will see your loved ones again. The ones that make you fall to pieces, the ones that just thinking about choke you up, the ones that make you feel alive but like you’re barely breathing, the ones you don’t know if you can live without because they were the best part of you: You will see them again.
I am thankful for these truths that have been restored. I’m grateful to know that whatever happens in this life or the next, Ivy, Sage, and Wren will be mine, and I will be theirs. Forever. This goes for Beth also. Because of Jesus Christ we will be together forever. And my love for Him is inexpressable when I consider what He’s done for me.
No Coincidences 