There are some days that feel like one of those nightmares where a loved one dies unexpectedly. It’s like one of those dreams that feels so real, one has to call the loved one after waking up to make sure it was only a dream. Except I never wake up. This is a dark chapter. Nothing fixes it, and this trial is not something I can file away in the back of my mind. Sam is my son. My entire life is touched by this shadow.

Yet a smile still finds its way to my countenance. Laughter is still heard in our house. Nothing fixes it, but beauty is a salve. I am blessed on days I find beauty, even more so on days beauty finds me. I close my eyes when beauty visits me, wondering if little pieces of beauty find their way into my bloodstream, traveling through the umbilical cord, finding their way to Sam for his delight.

A friend of my mother’s sent a package of bath products the other day, ordered from New York. I love a warm bath. I love things that smell good. I close my eyes and imagine Sam splashing in the ocean, and I hold the seashells I keep on the edge of the tub, hoping little puffs of seashells, sunshine, and big beach hats make their way to my sweet baby in some mystery of my connection to him.  Thank you, Jolie, for sending extra beauty for bathtime.

Shannon sent pickles, peanut butter, and a Giada cookbook. Oh, Shannon, that Giada does my heart good. Nothing diet about her recipes whatsoever. Beauty.

Steven says he likes coming home when the house smells like spices and bread, and there is music playing to match (think Dean Martin’s “That’s Amore” on pizza night!). I like when he comes home, filthy dirty from work, sighs, and kisses my forehead. This is beauty to me. Steven, my masculine Roman soldier husband, is beautiful. He’s standing in front of me as a write, bowling on the Wii, concentrating on the task at hand. “Found my groove,” he announces, and I laugh. “That’s right,” he says nodding with playful pride, and I’m so glad he’s here to be silly with sometimes. Beauty.

I have had an intense craving for a warm Neiman Marcus cookie and milk. It’s a Grind served them, but we learned last night that the one on our side of town went out of business. Then, after driving to the opposite side of town, found out the other one shut down too, apparently a long time ago. Sad. So we drove to Walmart to pick up ingredients to make them ourselves, and forgot the brown sugar. We laughed. So much driving, so little success, but it was funny. Beauty. A husband who won’t give up, saying over and over, “You’re craving a cookie, we’re getting a cookie.” Beauty. We went home, admiring the clear, starry sky as we drove, and curled up in our warm bed and watched King of Queens till we fell asleep. Beauty.

My mother came to visit, and I didn’t cook or wash a dish the entire time she was here. I could stop right there, and say, Now that’s beauty, but I’ll go on. Pasta with tomatoes and cream cheese… macaroni grill bread and olive oil… beef burgundy… chicken tomatillo soup with sour cream and monterrey jack… Beauty. Swapping curly hair gels with the lady I inherited my curls from… looking at ultrasound pictures… considering crib sheets in Pottery Barn Kids and crying sad and happy tears when we leave the store… Beauty.

This morning, we slept til 9, and as Steven and I began to stir, I felt Sam stir with us, and we all wondered about breakfast. I fried bacon, made star-shaped biscuits served with butter and jam, and Steven scrambled eggs while I cleaned up the mess. A team effort. Beauty. It’s almost lunchtime, and we’re still full. Beauty. I’m still in my pj’s and stripey robe, and I don’t care. Beauty. The smell of my new pomegranate candle. Beauty. Found it on clearance. Beauty.

I spill words onto the screen, publish them on this tiny blog, and hear from people about how beautiful it is, but it’s therapy for me, for just as I need to drink beauty, I need to pour it out. This is how I thrive in this shadow. Beauty. I’ll find you, Beauty, please find me.


3 thoughts on “Beauty

  1. Megan, dear Megan…your words, they humble…they encourage…I am in awe of you…the ability in the midst of darkness and trial to seek the light, to seek the beauty…amazes me. As I read your words tears come to my eyes, both for the sorrow, pain and trial you are currently walking through but also the beauty that radiates through your life as God shapes you through this trial. You are an amazingly strong woman…and there is no doubt your reliance on God continues to be your strength…and I just wanted you to know that even in your darkest hour you are encouraging and showing God’s grace and beauty to others around you. You and your sweet sweet little blessing are always in my prayers. *hugs*

  2. Megan,

    I’m a youth group leader of Carly’s, and she’s been keeping us updated about Sam and you two. Reading this blog has touched me and humbled me. I am a newlywed (today is actually our one-month anniversary), and now that the possibility that I could become pregnant is in the back of my mind, I’ve been thinking about motherhood a lot lately. Reading about your journey as a carrying mother and seeing how you have responded to the trial that God has allowed you and your family to go through has touched me in a way I have not before. You still see the beauty in things; you have not allowed Satan the satisfaction of seeing you completely lost in the pits of depression and despair. You still cling to your hope in God. I don’t know if I could keep such a positive outlook while going through something like that; I hope that I would. But you are an encouragement. I am praying for you, Steven, and Samuel. You three have blessed me, even though I have never met you.


    • Kjelse, I have good days and bad days–you happen to be commenting on a bad day, when I am less than positive! His mercies are new every morning though. Trials, no matter what kind they are, must be taken a day at a time, even a moment at a time. Thank you for praying for us–our connection is that of brothers and sisters in Christ, which is powerful.

      As you think about being a mommy, don’t be afraid! There is something about motherhood that will give you a strength you never knew you had. I have been equipped with everything I need not just to be a mother, but to be Sammy Moore’s mommy, and everything that will entail. As a fairly low-key personality, I’ve been surprised at the strength I have been given to make decisions about Sam’s welfare–I can see myself kicking in hospital doors to make sure Sam gets what he needs! Any mother will tell you it’s true–something about your babies will bring out the crazy lady in you! 🙂

      Congratulations on one month! Marriage is beautiful!

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