It's Baseball Time

Opening week of spring baseball has officially begun. I guess you could say I have a love-hate relationship with baseball.

Carson is on the Warriors. He is with a lot of new boys, but some that he has played with in years past.  

Colby is on the Mustangs with a group of boys he has been with (most of them) for several years

Cooper is on the Rockies 

On one hand, I absolutely LOVE it. Love watching my boys play. Love the relationships I have made over the years with those we play with. Love the smell of the grill at the concession stand and the way the white lines are so perfectly formed on the dirt with the green grass outlining the outfield. I just love the game and the lessons that reach farther than the rules of baseball, and into the realm of day to day life. I love how each individual player has a particular moment to "shine," yet it is a team effort that carries the weight of how successful a season is.

Carson and Cooper (this night Coop had his last indoor soccer game at the same time Carson had his opening game) 

Carson with his buddy Addy Charest

Colby and Cooper before their games

The part of baseball I am struggling with, comes with longing for the one who LOVED this game with every fiber of who he was. Rod Cook was most passionate about a few things in his life on earth. His love for the Lord, his family, his friends, Alabama Football, beach sunsets, golf, and coaching baseball! I am so proud to watch the boys play the game their daddy loved, but it also rips my heart out, because he should be a part of this. The boys should be sharing in this passion with their dad. Instead, they have to settle for a frazzled mom, who is half-heartedly in it, because it just hurts too much. So, I continue to pray for strength and lots of grace!

 

Instead of being secondary support in the dugout from time to time, basically showing up for games, and worrying about getting uniforms washed in time, I am running like a mad woman, trying to figure out how I'm going to get in at least part of one of their games and still make it to another one. Who will I get to pick this one up for practice or bring that one home from a game? It's become a juggling act that never feels quite sufficient. It is only by the generosity of many who help me pull it off, that it is even doable. 

So, last year during this week, Rod was honored at opening ceremonies with a field named for him. It's hard to believe that was a year ago. This year, we scrambled, to get everyone where they needed to be and I teeter tottered between two fields, as I walked past the very field named to honor the boys' dad just last year during this same week. It is still surreal. I had to stop, take a deep breath, and choke back tears at the reality of it. 

I still picture him standing there on the field in his uniform, clip board in hand, spitting sunflower seeds. Intense as ever, yet smiling from ear to ear just ready to teach a kid something that they didn't already know about baseball. I see it as vividly as ever, and it still takes my breath away. Then, I see the sign with his name and I am quickly knocked back into the harshness of what is. 

So, we press on, and we will soak in another season of baseball...and we will choose thankfulness, even when so much is missing in this game we love. We do it for two reasons. 1.) Because it is what God tells us to do. (I Thessalonians 5:18- "Give thanks in ALL circumstances"), and 2.) There is not a doubt in my mind that it is exactly what Rod Cook would tell us to do and would expect us to do.

Take me out to the ballgame!

Beautifully Broken

God wastes nothing.
Do you believe that? Better yet, do I believe that? I have found myself attempting to really trust that to be true, even when my heart doesn't feel it. I know it's truth. Sometimes I just can't help but to look around me at all the brokenness and wonder how He will redeem it. When He will restore. What exactly, are His plans and how will He transfigure empty into full again. And, I'm not just talking about my own brokenness, but the brokenness of this world we live in.

Lately, God has been bringing up a consistent theme with me. I can almost hear Him shouting at me, "Trust me…I WILL make all things beautiful. I will pick up these broken pieces and make a masterpiece like nothing you have ever seen before."

Quite honestly, I have just had a really difficult time allowing my heart to expect what my mind experiences.


It was spring break last year, that the boys and I took our first trip alone. We hopped on a plane and took a one hour flight to the beach. I go back to a year ago in my mind, and it feels numb and heavy all at the same time. I kicked into "Mom Manager" mode, determined to make it. All the while, I remember being so aware of all the families around me, enjoying the beach, TOGETHER. All of them. Mom, kids, dog, grandparents, you name it...and yes, DAD. I seemed to notice more family dynamics, especially ones that included the dad. It felt like a dagger with each family I saw "complete". It spotlighted my lack of completeness. My broken family doing the best we could to fumble the broken pieces together into a jumbled mess. Nothing about it looking right or complete. Behind the smile and "I've got it together" look, I was a mess. I don't even know if I realized how much of a mess I was. Looking back, I see it clearly.

Today at church, I heard these words:

"A time of brokenness exposes the core of who we are"

Isn't that the truth? My brokenness felt especially exposed on that trip and I remember feeling so desperate for God to do a transformation of healing…and I wanted it RIGHT THEN!

One year later, healing is still in process. I imagine it might always be, because I can't quite see how part of me won't always ache. It will. That's okay. He can still heal and it doesn't mean I won't feel. The core of who I am is hopeful for that. Sometimes my lack of patience and trust just gets in the way.

I wanted to share this from Ann Voskamp's book One Thousand Gifts. This was what we discussed with my small group of ladies that meets to discuss this book recently. Timing a coincidence? I think not.

God transfigures...Darkness into Light
                              Bad into Good
                              Grief into Grace
                              Empty into Full

He "makes everything work out according to His plan" (Ephesians 1:11).

I also want to include something that I read from a devotional today March, 15th. I don't think it is by mistake that this goes right along with what God has been saying to me over the past week. This is from Streams in the Dessert, by L.B. Cowman. I absolutely love this!

Christ is building His Kingdom with the broken things of earth. People desire only the strong, successful, victorious, and unbroken things in life to build their kingdoms, but God is the God of the unsuccessful- the God of those who have failed. Heaven is being filled with earth's broken lives, and there is no "bruised reed" (Isaiah 42:3) that Christ cannot take and restore to a glorious place of blessing and beauty. He can take a life crushed by pain and sorrow and make it a harp whose music will be total praise. He can lift earth's saddest failure up to Heaven's glory.

I pray that I will be a "harp whose music will be total praise." I'm putting one foot in front of the other, trusting God is bigger, that He wastes nothing, and His restoration and transfiguration of my brokenness are promised. Even when my heart doesn't feel it!

The bench at their daddy's grave came in around Christmas time. The boys wanted "Roll Tide" written on one side.  Love it!

White as Snow

Triggers…even the most unsuspecting and happiest events can trigger memories that leave me feeling like I took two gigantic steps backward. I have been so aware of the absence of Bunky over the last few days, while the boys have been out of school enjoying the snow (with a whole lot of ice mixed in).

Snow days.


Such GREAT memories here on 227 Chester Stevens Road from snow days in the past. We have such an awesome hill right behind our yard that is in a common area, and runs right down into two ponds below. It's really gorgeous. The view from the back of our home, was actually one of the biggest selling points to Bunky when we were looking at the house. It is private and has a gorgeous view year-round.

It makes for some wonderful sledding too! In fact, MANY from the neighborhood make their way to "our hill" when it snows, for some super sledding fun. We have even had friends drive in hazardous conditions from the other side of town, just to come and sled with us.

What snow days in the past have looked like for us…

The boys and their dad would spend hours playing outdoors with other neighbors. I would join them and sled some too, but my main duty was to make sure there was plenty of homemade hot chocolate and treats, ready when everyone came in to warm up and dry out. A job I was just fine to embrace, I might add. Although, I will say that I do love a good sledding hill. *Side note...The adventurous part in me comes out when I have an opportunity to sled or ride a roller coaster!

As a married couple and as parents, there are just certain roles you inadvertently take on, in every situation. So many times these aren't even spoken or are just natural and adapted over time. The way I used to enjoy watching their daddy out the window, play for hours in the snow with his boys. Building snowmen. Sledding, sledding, and more sledding. My fulfillment in bundling everyone up and then helping them get it all back off again (a process that could take as much time as the sledding itself). Board games around the table. Homemade hot cocoa with whip cream on top. Family snow ball fights. Having neighbors and friends stay for hours, until frozen fingers and toes just couldn't take it anymore.  Then, having them stay for hours more just to thaw out. Oh, and I was in charge of taking lots and lots of pictures. When 1/2 of the equation is no longer here, the realness creeps in and sucks the breath out of me. I try to adjust and focus on what I am thankful for in the midst of it. I will forever be thankful for the amazing memories we have already made and also the ones that are to come.

This year it just feels lonely. I struggle to make myself take on all the "snow day" roles well. I feel exhausted. Worn down. Not very fun. I try to make all the pieces work, but come up short because a huge part of the fun, a huge part of the team, is missing. The first day they wanted to go out and sled, I found myself choking back tears at the thought. I wasn't expecting it. Grief has a funny way of sneaking up on you in the least suspecting moments and taking your breath away. Again, thankfulness, is truly vital to how quickly I can go from feeling angry and sorry for myself or moving forward. So many times I don't do thankfulness well…but I am trying.

I definitely did more "outdoor roles" than typical, but tried to be true to my traditions. Thankfully, others stepped up and stepped in. Never taking the place of, but softening the blow, even just a little. For that I am grateful and I don't even know if they realize how they filled a gap for me, but I am thankful.

This picture was from 2010 and probably our last opportunity for a family picture with a really good snow. Snow days will always feel different, but all I can think about is the beauty of the white snow. What beauty can compare to the way Jesus' blood washes us "white as snow." This is a promise I cling to and can feel hopeful for.

Isaiah 1:18

Honest Thoughts on Valentine's Day

Warning…if you are a hopeless romantic who loves all things "Valentine," this post will probably not be your favorite. Stop reading now and go get your LOVE on! No judgment here. 

Ohhhh, the sea of red and pink that begins to creep onto store shelves soon after Christmas decor is cleared out. Heart-shaped boxes full of chocolate, flowers, and cards just staring you in the face, everywhere you look. The display is overwhelming and I can almost hear the beautifully decorated boxes saying, "Me, Me, Pick Me." No, not really…I'm not hearing voices just yet. Although, it's not that far-fetched in my mental state these days. 

I read an article in Forbes Magazine from 2013,  which reported results from a survey conducted by BIGinsight, a consumer insights firm:

• The average person plans to spend $130.97 on candy, cards, gifts and more.
• Men will spend an average of $175.61, while women will spend roughly $88.78.
• For consumers above the age of 18, total spending is expected to reach $18.6 billion.

Valentine's Day is about expectations. Ones that are usually not met. It also comes with a lot of comparisons…("what did you get for V-day?""Aren't you going out to dinner?" etc.) Therefore, disappointment is inevitable and a day that was meant for LOVE, can often end up leaving lovers; well, nothing but frustrated!

Don't get me wrong…I enjoy flowers just like the next girl. And chocolate, well, I adore chocolate whether it comes in a heart-shaped box or out of a Hershey's Syrup bottle! 

What I enjoy most…

When something is done from a place in the heart that says, 

"I care about you"
"I thought about you"
"I want you to know I love you"
"You are special"
"You have made a difference in my world"

That can happen and SHOULD happen on any given day…not just February 14th! 

I will never forget our first Valentine's Day together. Bunky brought out a brown paper sack with my Valentine's gift. He made it clear that he thought V-day was a "Hallmark" holiday, a day that forced people to go out and spend money to "say" something that should be said throughout the year. 

He always did small things for me on Valentine's day, but only because he felt like he should and he didn't want to hurt my feelings. He also didn't want to be "outdone" by anyone he might have a conversation with about it. (Did I mention comparisons and expectations?) Thankfully, he did a great job of showing me how much he loved me on a continuous basis. He validated his thoughts about V-day with actions on days other than Feb. 14th. And, honestly, I would take that any day!

So, back to the brown paper sack. Our first romantic holiday together and he pulls out two matching ALABAMA sweatshirts…one for him and one for me! If you know him at all, you know this is just who he was. He kept it real. Always. 

And do you know what that ugly matching sweatshirt spoke to me?

"I care about you"
"I thought about you"
"I want you to know I love you"
"You are special"
"You have made a difference in my world"

And one last thing…. 

"I really hope you will love Alabama football as much as I do"

This picture has so many funny memories attached to it that I just laugh out loud when I see it! Us in our matching AL sweatshirts before a game. (side note…I look like a boy here, I think! Ha)

So, while it's fun to romanticize and get caught up in Valentine's Day. I have always felt like there are more things wrong with it, than right. I have gotten more than one message this week from friends who are single, feeling all down in the dumps about Valentine's Day. They all wanted to let me know how they were feeling sorry for themselves and then thought of me (because I don't have my love here to celebrate with), and perspective was changed.

While I do SO appreciate that, I have news for everyone…it wasn't a BIG holiday in mine and Bunky's world. (That might have had a little something to do with the fact that his birthday was the day before, and in true "Rod Cook fashion," he liked all the attention on him…not to be overshadowed by the day coming after HIS big day). I remember him telling me multiple times, "I don't like commercializing my love for you." :) And, really, that's exactly what Valentine's Day does.

Finally, if it makes anyone feel better…the majority of my married friends I've talked to in the last few days are at home tonight, hanging with their kids, and not doing too much of anything! In fact, I know one couple, who the dad has even gone to the Spongebob movie with his son and friends, while mom is at home! Valentine's Day does NOT dictate your worth or how loved you are…don't ever forget that. Single. Dating. Or Married!

Another Birthday in Heaven

Today is my Bunky's birthday. We would have celebrated his 44th this year. Instead, we reflect on the mark he made on this earth during the time he was here, and rejoice knowing he is partying it up big in Heaven. So, instead of making him a birthday cake, I sat looking at his cemetery marker this morning. Such a contradiction of what I would have thought at this point in our lives. Tears felt frozen on my face. Yet, the sun was bright and brought warmth in some mysterious way. It reminded me that out of darkness, His light shines the brightest. God's comfort is always present.

I think anytime someone close to us dies sooner than anticipated, it challenges those of us who are still here to dissect what impact we are or are not having. It forces us to come to grips with our own mortality. It stirs up questions. Some that have no answers. It makes us uncomfortable. It wakes us up from our "la-la land mentality" of just being. It challenges us to make the most of every second. Every minute. Every day. 

We know all too well, that today could be our last. Our moments on this earth are fleeting and never guaranteed.

For Bunky, God's plan was for him to have the exact amount of time that he had on this earth. I believe this with all of my heart. It was no accident. No mistake. And, even though I have wrestled long and hard with this…there was nothing I could have done to stop it or make it different. 

I love the New Living Translation of Psalm 139:16, "You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed."

From the moment he took his first breath until his final breath. His time on this earth was:

• 509 months
• 2,211 weeks
• 15,481 days
• 371,544 hours
• 22,292,640 minutes
• 1,337,558,400 seconds

These were the numbers ordained for him, and as much as I don't like to accept the brevity of his time on earth, it still is what God planned. The period has been put at the end of the sentence. The last page of the book was read. It sounds so final. Yet, in the broader scope of Heaven and eternity, these numbers are as mere grains of sand on a vast beach. They are a vapor in the wind. A single blade of grass on thousands of miles of rolling meadows. A tiny drop of rain in a torrential downpour. A tiny flake of snow in the arctic tundras. 

It really causes me to stop and ask myself, "What am I doing in this microscopic piece of time that God allows me to be here on earth? What am I doing that will matter for eternity?" 

Make it matter. Make your seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years on this earth count for something bigger! I pray that I will.

I would still argue that Rod Cook lived more life in his 42 years, than many will in 82! His legacy continues to live on in big ways. I see it all around me. I can only be thankful that he was born and feel blessed that God allowed me to be a part of his story while on this earth. 

We are not guaranteed another second. One day Bunky was coaching baseball games in a tournament and the next day he was in a hospital on life-support. One hour he sat and talked with me about what we were packing for a trip, what time he wanted to sleep in until, and we laughed at some funny stories we were told about our boys that day. Just 5 hours after that, he was in our bedroom floor after suffering cardiac arrest. About 6 hours after I hugged and kissed him goodnight, I was told by a fire chief that they did not know if the paramedics would find a heartbeat or stabilize him enough to even ride in the ambulance to the hospital. I was told, "you need to prepare for the worst." And all I could think was…"PLEASE God don't take him and please don't let my boys wake up and see this right now."

My life has been changed forever. I am slowly coming to a place of peace and acceptance,   but I will never, ever be the same. My prayer is that God will bring beauty from ashes and that I will live every day like it's my last.

We miss you Rodney Lane Cook and can't wait to see you again! Happy Birthday in Heaven!

Jump Rope for Heart

The boys' elementary school holds a "Jump Rope for Heart" event in January to support the American Heart Association each year. This year, because it was the last year all 3 boys would be at the same school together, they wanted to honor their dad at the event. The boys set a goal to raise $1,000. That goal was met and surpassed within 24 hours. They ended up raising just under $3900 when all was said and done. It was a humbling experience and we all felt extremely loved and thankful that so many wanted to support them and remember Rod.

I could really go on and on about all the teachers, staff, and families at Trinity Elementary. They have embraced our family in such a special way since Rod's death…going beyond what you could imagine to do special things to love us and let us know they haven't forgotten. I treasure and am so blessed to walk with so many of them as friends.

So, the night of the event came and Carson and Colby were supposed to speak some about their dad and activities he did with them, as a slide show with pictures of him were shown. Both boys agreed and were actually excited to do this. I was more nervous than they were for them to talk in front of the school and families that were there. I am still amazed at how brave they were and how well they honored their dad as they stood up in front of everyone and shared some memories. Lots of tears from this proud mom. Cooper and I sat just to the side of where they were speaking and I saw Carson's emotion coming from the moment he spoke his first word. It was beautiful, raw, and from the heart. Their dad would be unbelievably proud of them and so was I.

Carson felt somewhat embarrassed after, and was upset with himself because he didn't feel like he said what he really wanted to. I was grateful for the encouragement he received after from friends, adults, and teachers. He was fine by the next morning. With that said, I got his permission to share this video on the blog. His words were…."If it helps someone else in any way, then I want you to show it, mom."

I wrote out what the boys said and the pictures they were referring to when they were talking, because it is hard to understand exactly what they are saying in the microphone and with the noise in the gym. I hope one day, they will look back and realize how courageous they were to do this. I wanted to share, because there were a lot of special people who weren't able to be there and wanted to be. So, here goes...

Carson:

Hello, I'm Carson. In this picture it's me, my brother, and my dad in the backyard being active and having a fun time…playing football or just running around. My dad was a coach for me on my baseball teams and he would yell sometimes, but I always loved him and just kept on persevering.

Colby:

This is a picture of us playing football and we love football a lot. That's us playing in the mud in a football game. We got really muddy. And, our favorite team is Alabama. We always like to play football and have a good time.

Carson:

My family has gone through some really hard times, but we always keep persevering and heading toward the light. We always keep going and never give up even when it's hard. We should always finish strong, and never give up, and always persevere.

"Hopeful New Year"

"Happy New Year"…it just rolls off the tongue. I guess I have never really thought about it much…it's just something you say this time of year. That is, until the last two Januarys, when it feels like the emptiest 3 words that can possibly be said.

I want to be happy. I really do. There are certainly moments that make me happy, although it seems more difficult than ever to really achieve such. Happiness is a feeling, based typically on circumstances. And while that is great, I want so much more. Because, quite frankly, my circumstances feel hard and are filled with the disappointment of plans and dreams that will never come true. Whether it's listening to Carson talk about how his dad won't be here to watch him graduate. Colby not sleeping through the night when he's at home vs. other people's houses, because "they have dads there to protect them." Or, Cooper asking who will take care of him and make him sandwiches, if I go to Heaven too. There are so many daily reminders of what is missing and what isn't right.

God does not promise us that we will be happy. In fact, he says quite the contrary. John 16:33 says,
"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."

Joy…now that's what sustains and comes from a relationship with Jesus Christ. When that relationship is there…no matter how broken it may seem, HIS spirit fills you with JOY and peace that is unexplainable. The kind of stuff that makes people scratch their heads and wonder how. It is NOT based on circumstances, and actually defies and breaks all the "rules" of the circumstantial. Trusting His plan EVEN when it makes no sense or goes against everything you could have wished for. Out of that springs HOPE. Not just any hope, but the Bible says we will even be filled with HOPE that's overflowing…regardless of how crappy things are all around us, IF we will just trust Him.

Romans 15:13

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."

So, for 2015, I say "Hopeful New Year" instead of "Happy," because I really want to fix my eyes on so much more than what the world uses to measure happiness with. I love my boys and as I tucked them in, we prayed about what 2015 would hold for our family. Carson said, "surely, we will have a better year than 2014, mom." I don't know, but I pray that whatever it brings…I will be overflowing with HOPE and filled with Joy and Peace that can only come from Christ. I certainly wouldn't mind a few more "happy" moments too! :)