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Bekah Bowman

Can't Steal My Joy

Home | Our Story Part 4- Learning to live after loss | Spaghetti arms and sandcastles

Spaghetti arms and sandcastles

Finding Truth, Living With Grief, Our Story Part 4- Learning to live after loss

Yesterday was Ely’s 60th infusion. SIXTY! I remember when we were waiting on pins and needles to be invited into the trial. That waiting period felt like forever. And then, like a snap of the fingers, 60. We are adjusting to our new treatment site along with everything else. Yesterday during our treatment, a new friend of ours stopped by to visit. She happens to work at the hospital so we get to see her fairly often on our infusion stays and it’s always a treat.

I had learned in previous conversations that she was a gymnast and so we got to talking about gymnastics again. I shared jokingly that I remember going to gymnastics as a really young girl only a handful of times. In one of my first few classes (it was a long time ago, so the memory is blurred), I was trying to hold my body weight up with my arms. I failed. Miserably. Our teacher, probably trying to be funny, called me “Spaghetti Arms”. And with that, gymnastics was over for me. Because I was now Spaghetti Arms. I have held that as an identity of myself to this day when I think about ‘Bekah and gymnastics’.

As I drove Ely home last night from our long day, that conversation came back to me. What I had always thought of as a silly little story, in that moment, struck me as prophetic. Because in that small interaction where I perceived myself to be criticized and not good enough, I ran away. There was no convincing me to go back to gymnastics after that. It carved such influence on me that I, Bekah, was not good enough. And when I think back through my growing years, I see that tendency played out over and over and over.

But then I also remember a few deeply influential characters in my life who saw potential and affirmed that in me. I think of my assistant coach of my competitive soccer team my sophomore year of high school. Coach Sammy was his name. For some reason, he chose to affirm, encourage and empower me. When Coach Sammy told me who I was, I rose to be that person because I believed him. I remember one particular game where I was warming up before we took the field. As I ran around the perimeter of the field to the opposite team’s goal, I pictured exactly how I was going to score on that goal and where I would shoot the ball. That day I scored not once, not twice, but three times into that goal. Coach Sammy was going to be late to the game, but when he got there, I ran over and told him what had happened. He beamed with pride and responded with, “That doesn’t surprise me one bit. You can do whatever you set your mind to.”

As I look back at all my different accomplishments and failures, I see my identity beaming with pride or taking a hit. I thought it normal, actually, to find my identity in what I did, what I accomplished, who I became. And as I grew older, got married, became a mom to two boys and then had part of that identity get severely stripped away from me, I got lost. It seemed that as I tried on each little identity, there was something that didn’t quite fit because I was now wearing grief and grief is kinda… lumpy. My identity clothing didn’t fall nicely over me like it used to. Soccer player. Student. Wife. Children’s Pastor. Mom. Happy person. Dependable friend. Always good for a smile. Straight and narrow. All those identities now felt lumpy.

This has been an interesting year for me. I have actually been doing a lot of soul searching and trying to understand who Bekah is. I didn’t expect to be in this soul-searching place in my mid-thirties. I guess I thought that’s what you spend your 20’s doing and then 30’s bring stability and confidence. Ha! But I know I’m not alone in this. I was just texting with a friend yesterday who shared the very same struggle and she is a 30-something too! Hmmm…

All through this life of mine, I’ve had this great insecurity of not being good enough. It translated as a fear of failure, one that caused me to take the safe road. To second guess myself and not put myself out there. To talk myself down to look like a failure before I actually was one so it didn’t surprise anyone, especially myself. It all came down to not believing that I, Bekah, was created as a beloved daughter of a King and that simply made me enough. So, my life has been full of overachieving and competitiveness and then on the flip side, stepping down from a challenge and choosing not to show my true colors for fear they would be ridiculed.

As we journey through our lives, we all pick up various identities along the way. For me, I was a soccer player, a student, a girlfriend, coffee lover. That changed to wife, children’s pastor, mom. Coffee lover remained. Then instead of growing into new identities, I felt identities taken from me. Career paths fell off as my need to stay home with my boys grew. I lost my oldest son, the boy who made me a mom, to a fatal disease. My identities shifted as I picked up griever, fighter, endurer, advocate. These were not identities I set out on life’s adventure to hold. Certainly not from this broken place, anyway. From a mountain top of success, sure! Bring it on… but in the valley of the shadow of death? Come on now.

But what this soul-searching has brought me to realize (and I have to give credit to Ted Dekker for this analogy) is that all of life is made up of building these sandcastles. My career, my relationships, my skill-sets and goals I set out to achieve – each one is its own unique sandcastle. And the thing with sandcastles is that they are temporary. Some are simple, some elaborate and detailed. Some we don’t spend much time on and some, we spend most of our lives building. We can choose to build them for the glory of God or for the glory of ourselves. And when the roaring waves come crashing up and over them, some we cheer to be taken down, others we fight to salvage, digging trenches to keep the water at bay. And some we grieve at the unstoppable loss as our sandcastles get swallowed up in the big wide blue. What Dekker shared (that I actually knew deep down but was transforming for me as I became awake to this) was that when those sandcastles get destroyed, the person who built them is not. Right? When you are on the beach, building your castle and the waves wash it away, you remain. This was an aha moment for me that I desperately needed to hear. When my identities get built up or washed away, the very core of me, of who I am and always will be, remains.

But who is that? (Cue inspiring piano music.)

I am a daughter of Yahweh, God- who created me because His glory and love was spilling out of Him so much so that He couldn’t hold it in. You and I are a result of His goodness, His love, His creativity, His wonder and mystery. We, without adding anything more, are purpose.

We are SOMEBODY because we are His. We are not these temporary sandcastles, these identities that get taken away by the shadows of this world. We are eternal. So, I am free to enter back in to this world, holding grief and whatever else feels heavy and ugly knowing that it isn’t me. It’s a sandcastle. And in the building of it, I see beauty that I previously would’ve called ugly and shunned it because I would’ve been afraid of how it defined me. Instead, I can see how those broken, ugly places woo me and teach me and bring me back round to who I really am.

His. Loved. Redeemed. Enough. Period.

(Check out the article I wrote for HomeFront Magazine for their January 2019 issue on Identity with this sandcastle analogy. There is an activity you can do with your kids to help get the conversation going with them on Whose they are and who they are! 😉)

one of our last beach-walks before we moved

Thanks for listening,

Bekah

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January 11, 2019 · 6 Comments

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  1. June Pimpo says

    January 12, 2019 at 4:10 pm

    Yes yes yes. True words that run deep with meaning and strength. Amen. amen.

    Reply
    • bbowman says

      January 13, 2019 at 7:10 am

      Thank you June. So thankful for God’s loving truth and persistent goodness and redemption in all our stories.

      Reply
  2. Steve Phillips says

    January 12, 2019 at 11:55 am

    Bekah, thank you for once again putting your experience to words for all of us. Looking within I see these same dynamics at work in me through different circumstances. My sandcastles are different from yours, but their nature is the same. I appreciate your reflections and drawing me back to the core realization of my identity apart from any achievement. I’m intrigued by your idea of identity as purpose–I’m thinking that one through. You are a gift.

    Reply
    • bbowman says

      January 13, 2019 at 7:07 am

      Yes! That one struck me too. While I was writing, it was as if the Spirit laid that one in my lap… we are purpose. We are a manifestation of his glory, his character- a creation made in his image and done so with great love. To simply be created is to declare his majesty, glory, his creativity, his love… and this holds great purpose! So much to sit in with this. Sending our love to you guys!!

      Reply
  3. Pam Tangbakken says

    January 12, 2019 at 6:53 am

    Good for you! Wonderful Website! God can use everything you have and will go through for His glory. Move forward boldly sister.

    Reply
    • bbowman says

      January 13, 2019 at 6:55 am

      Thank you for the encouragement Pam! Grateful to be part of HIS story!! 💛

      Reply

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Bekah Bowman

Hey, I’m Bekah and I’m so glad you’re here! It’s my mission to help you find joy, belonging, and hope in Jesus. I wear many hats, but some of my favorite hats are being a coach’s wife and a mom to boys. Read more…

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I gave up on sleep around 4:30 this morning. Ely h I gave up on sleep around 4:30 this morning. Ely had been up since 1:30 and it was clear his body was struggling to settle down and sleep. I had fits of horrible nightmares. At 4:30, I waved the white flag. We got up and I googled a good baked donut recipe.
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He's the one who went through what could perhaps be described as the most gruesome, torturous death. And in the midst of it, reached out to the criminal next to him and stole this man away from darkness and death and offered him victory and life.
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He's the one who held this mom as she held her son during his last breath. And in her grief and desperate wails, He grieved too, and promised Redemption and overwhelming Joy. Love shown through victory over death.
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I can't explain how central this is to everything. Absolutely everything. If you haven't yet, please--consider Jesus. Not religion, not a list of rules, not hurtful expectations "christians" have perhaps put on you or wounded you with.... not those things. Jesus. Please consider Jesus. 💛
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He is Risen. 🙌
Loving this beautiful 75° day out on the back pat Loving this beautiful 75° day out on the back patio with one of our sensory bins full of sea creatures. Sunshine was just what we both needed!
For all you special needs moms (and dads too), I l For all you special needs moms (and dads too), I love this podcast, Embracing Holland. 

If you haven't heard the poem Holland, give it a Google. Chances are, if you're in this world of disabilities, you know that poem well. 

I got to chat with hosts Meg and Angie and we got into one of the topics I'm super passionate about--bridging the gap between churches and people impacted by disabilities. 💛 

If you are a parent of a child with special needs, I encourage you to subscribe to their podcast and join their Facebook group Embracing Holland Podcast Community.
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#Repost @embracingholland
• • • • • •
Attending church as a family is complicated when you are raising a child with a disability, for many, many reasons. So when we talked to @bekahsbowman about her experience, and what she is doing to build a bridge between ministry and disabilities, it was such an encouraging and inspiring conversation.

If you are connected to church ministry in any way, please listen to this episode, and check out Joni and Friends an organization dedicated to equipping people and churches to serve and include the disability community. 

Bekah has a podcast ministry she's starting called Room for More where she says all are not just welcome and invited, they are needed. @roomformoreministry 

She also has a book you can check out called Can't Steal My Joy: The Journey to a Different Kind of Brave, available on Amazon.
I took Ely to the park the other day. There were a I took Ely to the park the other day. There were a couple of kids out on the playground. Trepidation grew in my heart as we got closer.
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"Will he be accepted this time?"
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"Will they see past his odd mannerisms and learn that's he a really cool kid?"
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Once again, the answer was no, they would not. Ely was only worthy of a few side-glances, and with every step closer, a step was taken to put distance between him and them. Ely didn't know what was happening, but it broke my heart.
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I thought, "will he ever get to call someone 'friend'"?
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And then my next thought, "how many people with disabilities have grown up without someone outside their family and care team who they could call friend?"
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The answer is: far too many. And it's a shame this world is missing out on the gift of their friendships.
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Before any of us call these kids on the playground jerks or blame their parents for their insensitive behaviors, can we take a moment to look inward?
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Was there a time you side-stepped, switched directions, smiled politely and walked quickly by when you were near someone different than you? I know I have. And it's not okay. I know those kids on the playground are probably also really cool kids. They were uncomfortable and didn't know how to handle it.
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This past Sunday was Ely's first Sunday back to church since the pandemic. A little girl about 3 years old asked if Ely "would like a warm hug?" I smiled. She moved toward Ely and gave value to his presence.The expansiveness of her comfort zone challenged mine. And may it also challenge yours. It only takes extending a gift of friendship.
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#DisabilityAwareness #differentlyabled #differentnotless #friendshipgoals #beafriend #notthathard #warmhugs #lessonsfromFrozen #handsandfeetofJesus #bettertogether #roomformore #allbelong #indispensABLE
Guess what today is?! Today marks TWO WHOLE YEARS Guess what today is?! Today marks TWO WHOLE YEARS with Ely's chest-to-brain port infusion system!!
🎉
This first-of-its-kind-ever-in-the-world system has worked flawlessly for two years now. 52 infusions under our belt and this system is gaining legitimacy and attention.
🎉
I'm grateful for the creativity of our neurosurgeon to think of this different delivery system. We made the switch to avoid potential brain surgery every few years and to allow the skin on his head to heal as it was getting thin and breaking open easily. But we've found more benefits than that in the process.
🎉
Since switching over, Ely has not struggled once with nausea (which was a common side effect for him before) nor have we had any bacterial infections or possibilities of one. He has so much more freedom to move around and we never have to worry about the needle accidentally dislodging as it's very secure.
🎉
I know this system won't be for everyone, and I realize we are still early in this journey and may have some bumps down the road that are yet unseen, but we're grateful to have been given the choice. Today, as we infuse #116 here at #stlukeschildrens I'm full of gratitude.
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This guy swiped his daddy's hat and thought he was This guy swiped his daddy's hat and thought he was pretty hilarious.
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He was. 💛
Part two released today on the Joni and Friends Po Part two released today on the Joni and Friends Podcast... I pray as you journey your own path of grief or unexpected circumstances, this brings you hope. 💛
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• • • • • •
On a recent episode of the podcast, @bekahsbowman shared about finding beauty and goodness in the middle of unthinkable loss. This week, she is back to talk about carrying grief as she has navigated the diagnosis of a fatal disease for both of her young sons.

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