Abigail Hope

Abigail's story, written by her mother, Brandy Dahlen.


Abigail Hope Dahlen
April 9, 2008 – April 11, 2010
Abigail Hope's story begins on April 9, 2008. After a long, beautiful labor, Abigail was born into this world. Her peaceful birth was met by loud screams. At that moment, I knew this was going to be a bumpy road. Abigail met the world with passion and enthusiasm. She knew what she wanted from the beginning, and she was always more than happy to let everyone else within hearing distance know her opinion. She was the 2nd daughter we had been praying for...a sister for Anna Faith...a chance to use girly hair bows and dresses...a 4th child to finish out our 2 and 2 set...but wow did she have her own agenda.

To say Abigail was bossy isn't entirely accurate--she was THE boss--but we were all happy with it that way. Whatever she wanted, she got, but she also in the process convinced us that whatever we had just done for her was exactly what we wanted to do as well. It was in fact the very thing we were truly wanting to do all along...we just hadn’t known it yet. She was that child. The one that could make a first time parent seriously reconsider having kids. But despite the volume, the activity, the demands, we all adored her. She was the baby, the fourth. I had learned how to relax, how to be patient, how to not stress about the small things...well, most of the time anyway.

April 11th, 2010 was a beautiful spring Sunday. It was the first day of sunshine after a long period of rain. We had a peaceful day as a family, enjoying church and an afternoon t-ball game. That afternoon, we split up with my husband staying home with 3 of the children, while I took my oldest and our 5 week old baby to an event. The kids were playing ball in the yard, when Abigail chased the ball into my neighbor’s driveway, tripped, and proceeded to pitch a fit in typical Abigail fashion. Just 2 days after her second birthday, she didn’t know to move when the teenager living in the house walked out to get in his car and backed up. She was temporarily revived at the hospital long enough for me to arrive, but the damage to her brain was extensive and the doctors could do no more.

Our world stopped that day. We had to tell our other children they would never again play with their sister. We had to keep moving and functioning and finding a way to exist in a world without our spunky one. God carried us in those first few months of darkness and he carries us now in our pain. We have the hope and knowledge that we will see her again, but the temporary separation of this world is a constant, crushing ache for us.

But her story doesn’t end with her tragic loss. If we collapsed as a family, we would not honor her memory. We could not sit and do nothing. We wanted to find a way to still share her passion for life with the world, while fulfilling God’s call on our lives. We quickly found that sharing Abigail’s story and helping to educate the public on the dangers of vehicles around children was the best way we could remember and honor our Little Bit’s legacy. Technology will help prevent some of these accidents, but drivers need to always be vigilant about the blind zone behind their vehicle, and parents need to be aware of the dangers of parking lots and driveways especially, as so we continue to advocate and educate.

Our family blog is www.hopeinthegrief.blogspot.com if you are interested in reading more of our story or contacting us. We are always available to share our story or a safety demonstration, and are available to speak to other grieving families when they are experiencing the tragic loss of a child.

 
Published at kidsandcars.org.  http://www.kidsandcars.org/abigail-dahlen.html

Friendship, gratitude, and hope

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. Proverbs 17:17

Friendship is a multi-faceted thing. I have lots of friends and am grateful for how God weaves people into the fabric of my daily life. Some are sort of like main characters in the drama and comedy that is my current life: wife/motherhood, homeschooling, Christian living.... Then there are others who have guest appearances for a time, and then our paths become divergent for a while. We reconnect, and maintain a casual relationship, but they are not folks I talk to daily. We all have those lifelong friends who have been through so many ups and downs with us, that we will always remain close, despite some breaks in frequent communication. Some of those lifelong friends have been friends for over 20 years, and some are more recently gained. I'm amazed at how I think that I have such a full heart, blessed with sisters, not of blood, but of tears, laughter, common focus, and then God brings another precious friend into my life. It's a blessing to learn and grow from them.

This post is about one of those friends that I didn't go looking for, but whom God placed in my life to challenge and stretch me in great ways. The fact that our common bond was initially forged through homeschooling and parenting wasn't even that apparent. We weren't close friends though we traveled in the same circles, lived in the same little town, and our kids belonged to the same sports team and school groups. We knew of each other, had emailed some, and smiled and nodded when we crossed paths. I knew of her reputation as a mom and someone who was involved in her family's life to a wonderful extent - her priorities were her family and God.

The way we became friends was through loss. Our friendship's foundation is built on grief. That's a hard way to learn the ins and outs of a person, when they're most vulnerable, and could be so fragile emotionally. It's also a way to grow to deeply love a person, when you share their great heartache and see them emerge through the darkest days, determined to be stronger, to fight through the pain, and to live, even when it would seem easier to just give up on life. Friendships typically are a blend of giving and taking, and sharing the burdens and the joys. When grief is involved, you can't go into a relationship expecting anything of the other person, but must be willing to only give. What I found though, was that my friend still gave, even when she was heartbroken and in gut-wrenching pain. She responded kindly, encouraging me, and was always patient with my questions, and my awkward stumbling through conversations as I tried to not hurt her when we talked. Gradually, I shared more, and she answered my wonderings about many subjects with her opinions or experiences, and we had more and more moments of laughter and normalcy. 

Today, I can't imagine not having this friend as a confidante and example to follow. She has given great amounts of time to my own working through grief, and never says she can't listen, or it's too hard on her. She continually points to God as her source of strength through the years since she lost her daughter, and hers isn't a newfound faith. Her dependence was on Christ before Abigail was killed, and has only grown greater since that day. Her testimony is powerful and she is determined to give Him the glory for any good that has come out of their family's tragedy.

Thank you Brandy, for being my friend, and for being a shining light of Hope, that honors our Lord, and your sweet girl.

God's heart

Just jotting down thoughts I read and studied through recently. Another family we know has lost a precious young child. So much grief in this world, and pain that I wish I could erase. A friend sent me the video to this song a while back, and I had to add those lyrics here - another reminder of the hope we have in Him. I hope something in here may touch and encourage any of you that may be hurting today.

Steven Curtis Chapman
Remembering You

I found You in the most unlikely way
But really it was You who found me
And I found myself in the gifts that You gave
You gave me so much and I

I wish You could stay
but I'll, I'll wait for the day

Chorus
And I watch as the cold winter melts into spring
And I'll be remembering You
Oh and I'll smell the flowers and hear the birds sing
and I'll be remembering You, I'll be remembering You

From the first moment when I heard Your name
Something in my heart came alive
You showed me love and no words could explain
A love with the power to
Open the door
To a world I was made for

Chorus
And I watch as the cold winter melts into spring
And I'll be remembering You
Oh and I'll smell the flowers and hear the birds sing
and I'll be remembering You, I'll be remembering You

The dark night, the hard fight
The long climb up the hill knowing the cost
The brave death, the last breathe
The silence whispering all hope was lost
The thunder, the wonder
A power that brings the dead back to life

I wish You could stay
But I'll wait for the day
And though You've gone away
You come back and

Chorus
And I watch as the cold winter melts into spring
And I'll be remembering You
Oh and I'll smell the flowers and hear the birds sing
and I'll be remembering You, I'll be remembering You

And I'll watch as the sun fills a sky that was dark
And I'll be remembering You
And I'll think of the way that You fill up my heart
And I'll be remembering You

I'll be remembering You

Trials. Joy!

I am learning to be thankful for the trials in life. This sounds crazy - I know. Goodness, there are so many hurts in this world. I just am done with it most days. Fed up and angry at how sinful we are, how painful things are for so many I love, and how much I want us to all be HOME. My eyes have been opened as never before, to how dependent I have to be on God to make it through the day; as a mom, teacher to my kids, wife, friend, daughter, and on and on. It's impossible to even be a decent person without His guidance. I'm so selfish and lazy. 

Then, adding to all that a new character trait that keeps wanting to develop - worry. I've never been a worrier. I'm not fearful by nature and haven't ever been the type person to things to death and come up with worst case scenarios. But recently, I sure have found myself doing that more and more. I know that grieving the loss of Pop and Granny suddenly within one year was a factor. My two grandfathers' deaths in the same time frame also contributed. I know that watching two dear families hurt through the deaths of an infant and a two year old, while I had children the same ages, also profoundly affected me.

When a lot of people in your life die in a short period of time, you start realizing death isn't as uncommon and rare as you'd like to think. I catch myself pondering, "Huh. Has there been a tragedy this month?" because for a while there, we lost a loved one every couple of weeks. I know - it sounds horribly morbid. I have felt that way for a year now. I don't like it either.

Instead of being my normal, relaxed and easy-going self, there are days that I have felt overcome with fear. Actually, nights are the worst, as I settle into bed and start replaying what all transpired that day. I have always had a great imagination. Unfortunately, that can be a negative thing when the mind is weary and thoughts aren't necessarily being directed by pure, godly motives. I think that there is a spiritual war going on, and this may be the area I'm most susceptible right now. I am tired. I don't get full nights of sleep, like-- ever. If I sleep a few hours without being interrupted by Owen, that is HUGE. So, physical weariness, busy thoughts, painful burdens, and difficult memories are not a good combination.

I find myself occasionally veering off into what could've gone wrong that day, what might have been a tragic ending, and how the next day probably will not turn out so well. I mean, it's really ridiculous and aggravates me to no end. I have never been so negative, and so bothered by my thought life. Another large factor is that my great love for people in  my life becomes so consuming, as I have tried to carry their burdens at times. I know that we are called to help one another and encourage and be compassionate. That is easy stuff for me, because people are so dear to me. However, I cannot try to fix everyone's hurts, or heal their scars, or take on their grief. Thankfully, these sweet people do not expect me to do so, and probably don't know that I feel this way. It isn't someone else's doings - just mine. Somewhere in me is this desire to prevent all pain and suffering in others, and I am really having to continually remind myself that I am unable, and not called, to take on that heavy of a responsibility. 

The truth is that life is hard. Pain does happen. We are not immune to it, and actually, benefit from it when God allows it to serve a purpose, usually to bring Him glory and to strengthen our faith. 

James 1:2-5 - Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,  because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.  If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.

 

I guess pride is what makes me think I somehow need to help everyone through their struggles. I'm struggling with how to care, without becoming consumed or focused on the wrong thing - me - and to give those burdens to the One who loves them even more. The thing I have to remember is that He gave me this compassionate heart. He made my brain that remembers dates of the deaths of those I love, and the loved ones of my friends. I remember names and connect losses and the anniversaries reappear and I focus on how that remaining family member must hurt to the point that I grieve all over again for them. Why do I love so much? Why can't I just say "I'm so sorry for your loss/struggle, and I'll pray for you" and move along? Obviously, it's not a curse to love folks a whole lot. But, I have to prioritize how much I give of my energy and heart to people outside of the family I am responsible to, and need to be investing in the most.

These issues are problems that even therapy and counseling hasn't cured, and the only remedy that works is the one that I need to turn to constantly anyway. Only Scripture and the Truth of hope really calms those thoughts and gives me peace. And, they are not a magic cure-all, but a soothing balm, that gives me something to cling to.

It is hard to admit all these shortcomings and faults, but I know that others benefit from knowing they're not alone in struggles. I also would appreciate your prayers for God's protection of my thoughts, and for my energy to be directed towards His Word and the shelter I can find in His sovereignty.

Psalm 34:18-19 -  The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all.

 So thankful for this truth. Martin Luther, you nailed it.

        A mighty fortress is our God, 
	a bulwark never failing; 
	our helper he amid the flood 
	of mortal ills prevailing.  
	For still our ancient foe 
	doth seek to work us woe; 
	his craft and power are great, 
	and armed with cruel hate, 
	on earth is not his equal.

	Did we in our own strength confide, 
	our striving would be losing, 
	were not the right man on our side, 
	the man of God's own choosing.
	Dost ask who that may be?  
	Christ Jesus, it is he; 
	Lord Sabaoth, his name, 
	from age to age the same, 
	and he must win the battle.

	And though this world, with devils filled, 
	should threaten to undo us, 
	we will not fear, for God hath willed 
	his truth to triumph through us.  
	The Prince of Darkness grim, 
	we tremble not for him; 
	his rage we can endure, 
	for lo, his doom is sure; 
	one little word shall fell him.

	That word above all earthly powers, 
	no thanks to them, abideth; 
	the Spirit and the gifts are ours, 
	thru him who with us sideth.  
	Let goods and kindred go, 
	this mortal life also; 
	the body they may kill; 
	God's truth abideth still; 
	his kingdom is forever.

Life these days

So, there is a lot going on, and most of it good. I struggle to find time still to write blog posts. Facebook seems easier, because it's more succinct, though many times, even a short, to-the-point thought is complicated for a wordy person like me. Tonight, as I hear of more friends whose marriages are struggling or who are facing tragedies in their lives, I can identify like never before with the weight of battling to maintain a relationship.


Within the past 18 months, James and I:
-have lost more beloved family members than I can count
-added a family member, our precious Owen Thomas
-witnessed friends' anguish who have lost young children
-completed two semesters of college and a year of a brand new co op with our homeschool
-faced crisis with our eldest child, and continue to seek help from multiple counselors and doctors
-decided God was leading us to offer our home as a rental to a friend, whom accepted, but needs to move in June
-found a home on our second day of looking, made an offer, and appear to be moving all within a month's time
-endured times of laughter till we cried, cried till we laughed, and sometimes just. plain. wept...until we fell asleep

I know plenty of you who have had much scarier scenarios, and continue to deal with health issues, family pain, financial worries, and aren't amused by my list of our 'first world problems'. Believe me, I'm not exaggerating the reality of what we've faced and assuming my life has been harder than many others. Yeah, it's been hard, but we didn't lose our home in a tornado last month, and James still has a great job. I'm SO thankful the other 5 folks in my house are all healthy and together right now. However, James and I have struggled together to adapt to the changes in our lives. These have been hard, hard months for us, and sometimes, we felt like we just couldn't face another wave, but they kept coming.


Our marriage has never felt so vulnerable. Before this year, I never understood how folks would get to the point of divorce and seem so o.k. with it. Even if they weren't happy about the divorce, when there wasn't a specific problem like adultery, I could not understand when they just couldn't deal with each other and felt they'd be better apart. I don't think I was ever really judgmental, but truly would say, "I guess I just can't understand, having never been there."
Well, I have now. I didn't talk about wanting a divorce, and James didn't either. But there were weeks when we didn't talk much about anything, and we were hurting and things were so easily becoming distant and unfeeling. 

It's a scary place to be, to just live with the person you promised to live with and love forever, and kinda feel like you don't know who they are or what they're thinking. I hated it, but couldn't fix it. James was mainly grieving his parents' death, so close together, but not ready to really talk a lot. He's not a typical guy in that he does talk, and has always been great at sharing his feelings. This silent, somber person was so foreign to me, and I slowly felt like he was leaving me. At one of the many times I tried to confront him to ask him about his feelings, or what was going on inside him, he replied he was numb and just didn't feel anything. I remember being so angry, and saying, "I WISH I could be numb! Everything hurts me!" I couldn't stop being sad, wanting to process aloud, and work through all my emotions, and just get. it. out. I was bearing so many sad things - every day felt like more depressing bad news and I was overwhelmed with it all.


Thankfully, in his time, James was able to process enough, we saw a grief counselor, and worked through the fatigue, grief, guilt, and regret we felt. We still both miss his parents so much. It's been very hard to not have them to visit, to share their grandkids with, and to know they'll never be here again to make memories with. I hate it. I am so sad, and feel shocked still, sometimes when I catch myself starting to ask, "Have you talked to Pop and Granny today?" The permanence of death is something that is really difficult to get accustomed to, and to walk through this with a spouse and four children has been something for which I've felt very unprepared.


Our precious close friends and my parents have listened, encouraged, checked in, and cheered us on. They've emailed and called, and shared Scripture, and just told us God was going to get us through this time. I honestly know that without that support, we would probably still be stuck in that funk of depression and misery. And, I think that's how others just give up. 

If you don't have someone telling you that it is worth fighting through, and you get lost in the temporary pain, it would not make sense to keep hanging in there with someone who isn't so fun.

Neither of us was very likable, but we were committed to keep loving each other, and acting on that love, even when we didn't feel like there was much energy left to invest. We knew our marriage was worth it, we remembered the years of joy and memories, and we loved our kids enough to not just surrender. I haven't ever worried about my marriage, never wanted a divorce, and never do. 

Through that time though, I remember just not wanting to feel pain anymore. I realized that I hurt so much because I loved James to the point that I couldn't imagine what life would be like if we never returned to the way we had been. I thought maybe it would hurt less to just not care - not leave, not divorce - just quit caring, and act as roommates. That's so dangerous, and I remember literally feeling my eyes get big as I faced what was going on in my mind. I was very easily succumbing to a belief that is contrary to everything I stand for and have promised to honor with my life.


We have come through these hard times with a renewed dedication to love each other and work (because it IS work) together, when sometimes, it seemed like it would be easier to just say, "I quit. I'm too tired." This man is not just my husband. He has been my dearest friend for half of my life now. It is humbling to say, "Ok, I get it - I HAVE been there" now, in some ways. I hope it makes me more compassionate and gracious, and that never again do we feel so distant. I pray that God continues to strengthen us individually and together, as He has through these trials. Without Him - oh, I don't want to think of where we'd be. And, to our sweet friends and my parents, thank you so much for faithfully loving us when we had hardly any love left to give back. 


Tears may last for a night, but JOY comes in the morning.
And, I'm so glad.




How long until You defend Your name and set the record right
And how far will You allow the human race to run and hide
And how much can You tolerate our weaknesses
Before You step into our sky blue and say "That’s quite enough!"
Am I naive to want a remedy for every bitter heart
Can I believe You hold an exclamation point for every question mark
And can I leave the timing of this universe in bigger hands
And may I be so bold to ask You to please hurry?

I hear that a God who’s good would never let the evil run so long
But I say it’s because You’re good You’re giving us more time, yeah
‘Cause I believe that You love to show us mercy
 
But when will You step into our sky blue
And say "That’s quite enough, and your time is up!"
Am I naive to want a remedy for every bitter heart
Can I believe You hold an exclamation point for every question mark
And can I leave the timing of this universe in bigger hands
And may I be so bold to ask You to please hurry?
Am I naive...
Can I believe...
And can I leave...in bigger hands
And may I be so bold to ask You, to ask You, to ask You
How long?

~Chris Rice~

Another Song

Lately, I don't always have the words for how I feel, and then God sends a song to encourage me or at least help me process what I'm feeling. Here is a great one today that I read on the facebook page of a late professor of ours who died this past year. The lyrics are perfect in so many ways.


I was sure by now,God, that You would have reached down
and wiped our tears away, stepped in and saved the day.
...But once again, I say amen, and it's still raining.
And as the thunder rolls, I barely hear You whisper through the rain,
"I'm with you"
And as Your mercy falls, I raise my hands and praise
the God who gives and takes away...

Chorus:
And I'll praise you in this storm
and I will lift my hands
for You are who You are
no matter where I am
and every tear I've cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm

I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry to You and raised me up again
My strength is almost gone, how can I carry on
if I can't find You
And as the thunder rolls, I barely hear You whisper through the rain
"I'm with you"
And as Your mercy falls I raise my hands and praise
the God who gives and takes away...

Chorus

I lift my eyes onto the hills
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth
I lift my eyes onto the hills
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth

Reflecting on grief

I have been sick for days...yeah, during the week of unarguably the hardest holiday season I have ever faced, following the most difficult year of my life. It has not been fun to struggle with the emotion of Granny's death just a week ago, along with fever virus, congestion, hacking cough, etc. However, I honestly have come to a place of gratefulness that it's super cold and I don't feel well enough to get out and do much, so have lots of time to hibernate and think. And, it's been good to think through so many emotions swirling around in my heart and head.

I was talking to a friend tonight about the sadness of missing James' mom, and other loved ones, and how it's been hard to just let myself grieve. As a mom of four kids, I feel like there is no time to really let my guard down and cry much, or embrace the sadness of a moment that hits out of nowhere. I have repeatedly thought of the quote by Claire in Elizabethtown, "I want you to get into the deep beautiful melancholy of everything that's happened," as she tells the main character who is grieving the loss of his dad.

I love those words. There is a beauty in facing grief and dealing with it, and acknowledging how much one hurts, and just how a loss matters and affects us deeply. It's beautiful, because it means someone meant so very much that it hurts horribly now that they are gone.

So, at times, I have cried and just mourned those I miss this Christmas. I have also at times felt some self-imposed restraint, like I couldn't really face the sadness head on, because I'm a happy, optimistic person by nature. I told this friend that I struggle with letting myself be sad. I don't want to appear to be wallowing in misery, or depressed, or super melancholy, because I am naturally joyful and love life, and want people to see that joy in me. I guess I've been afraid that if someone catches me on a day I'm really struggling, then they may think I'm having some kind of crisis of faith or feel desperately overwhelmed. There is a line between focusing on grief for a selfish preoccupation, versus just admitting that my life has a void in some areas now, because Pop and Granny and others are no longer sharing it. I'm struggling figuring all this out.

We are actually going to some counseling as a family now, to help us all work through these emotions. After suffering many losses this year, the kids and James and I all feel like we could use advice and encouragement on how to process these emotions. I feel such relief, just knowing that we are going to see folks who are equipped to handle whatever I feel, and that they won't assume I'm horribly depressed if I happen to need to cry a lot. Let me clarify too - none of my friends have criticized my response to these losses, so no person is the reason I am in this predicament of grieving confusion. It's just my personality I think, trying to ensure others are always comfortable and that I can be strong for them, so I'm trying to hold it together. I have been able to cry alone, with James, and with numerous friends, and think I'm decently handling the different feelings right now. However, I can see a tendency to NOT let myself go there, and that is something I'm working on.

Tonight, I played the piano. I don't make time for that much, and needed to tonight. The songs I played were all by Rich Mullins, who is my favorite artist ever. This song is old, but the lyrics are really as great now as they were when I first heard it as a teenager. Such simple and true words, and such hope. Life is going to be filled with hurt, and pain. Psalm 34 says that "Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all." I'm so glad He is there, and He can take my questions, and my tears, and my moments of wallowing, if I need to do that too.


There's bound to come some trouble to your life
But that ain't nothing to be afraid of
There's bound to come some trouble to your life
But that ain't no reason to fear
I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life
But reach out to Jesus, hold on tight
He's been there before and He knows what it's like
You'll find He's there.

There's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
That ain't nothing to be ashamed of
I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
That ain't no reason to fear
I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
Reach out to Jesus, hold on tight
He's been there before and He knows what it's like
You'll find He's there.

Now, people say maybe things will get better
People say maybe it won't be long
And people say maybe you'll wake up tomorrow
And it'll all be gone
Well I only know that maybes just ain't enough
When you need something to hold on
There's only one thing that's clear...

I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life
But that ain't nothing to be afraid of
I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
That ain't no reason to fear
I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life
Reach out to Jesus, hold on tight
He's been there before and He knows what it's like
You'll find He's there.