It Must be the Wind?

The sun did not shine much today, as an endless curtain of grey, fluffy clouds sped quickly across the sky at the mercy of the wind. The wind had a steady current with gusty blasts every few moments which would lift a leaf or a piece of trash and send it into the air. The blasts would move the tiny hairs on my legs and hands alerting me to its forceful presence and plaster my shorts to one side of my legs all the while sending the opposite side of them flapping wildly. A little ball of sweat would slide down my temple leaving a cold trail where the sweat had evaporated from my skin, until the wind and evaporation a had shrunken the small bead eradicating my knowledge of its presence. Then another drop would fall in similar fashion just beside the trail where the old one fell.

People were moving on foot, in car, or by bus. All going here and there while some took notice of me while others where oblivious to my presence, but all of them seemingly busy about their everyday life. I had my earbuds in, and I could hear David Crowder Band as well as the thump of my earbuds chord on my right shoulder as it lobbed up and down with gravity. My chest was expanding with a forcefull rise and fall as much more than just my diaphram was working to give my chest cavity adequate room for my lungs to fully inflate. I could faintly hear the rush of air as it was captured and then freed from within me because of the muffled hearing my earbuds give me. My peripheral vision noticed the lines, cracks, and inconsistencies in the pavement as it passed below me at a rate slower than those grey, fluffy clouds still moving on overhead. While my mind was conscience of all of this environment, it was also caught in a memory.

It was recalling soft skin. I had visions of very small movements, translucent fingernails, and tiny hands. I was calculating time and remembering camera clicks and tears. I was in a secret, most loved compartment tucked safely and neatly inside my memory. It must be the wind? Every time I go running, the only place my mind goes seems to be this little spot in my memory. It's been over a year now since I held my little boy in my arms and my emotions are much the same. Much like the front of a boat cuts through choppy water, I navigate through feelings of being hurt, happy, proud, upset, lost, joyful, panicked, protective and unbelief until I move closer to love. It is here that while I run I "tie-off." I just kind off float, moving from memory to memory and let whatever comes just float by and impact me.

It made me wonder though, who else is off in this far off place caught between memory and time? I probably looked to others as though I was just "going about my day," but I was embracing a loving memory. I guess it makes me think about how people are out there, and that almost all of them have a few secret and loved compartments in their mind they like to delve into. The really cool thing about these memories is there are no highlights. The beginning of his life in Rachel's belly is as important as the very last moment we spent with him. I remember him moving in the sonogram's, or I can remember him pushing Rachel's blue stretchy shirt up and down making lumpy spots here and there. I remember the way his fingers were stuck in the position that said, "I love you" in sign language. It has been more than a year and I am saying my friend was right. We don't feel less emotion, we just get stronger. I want you to know, for that, I am glad! I miss him terribly sometimes, but for the few short memories, I am very, very glad.

Memory Book for Jax

Click here to view this photo book larger

Our first post without Jax...

When I got on here today I really wasn't sure what I would say. I didn't even know how to start. These past few months have had a lot of firsts. Each of them contain a difficult hurdle that must be overcome. Things most people wouldn't even think about that a family who has lost an infant must face. We will miss watching Jax go through his firsts, like the first battle with the nose sucker, the first Jayhawks onsie he outgrows, his baby dedication, his first squint as the bright sun shines in his eyes, or how about the first sneeze and the two that come right behind it. Then there are the more painful firsts, like Shots, fingernail clippers that got a little too much nail, and that one person that always wants to hold him but makes him cry.

Instead, however, it seems those painful firsts have fallen to Rachel and I to bear. We had our first trip home from the hospital, our first trip to church, our first christmas, my first solo run was a difficult one at first, and claiming him on our taxes just doesn't seem right. As we hung the first picture of our son, knowing that there will be no new photos of Jax is a hard reality to wrap our heads around. I talked to Rachel's grandpa today, Roman. He asked how we were doing, and I told him that we were just getting back to normal. Then I paused and thought about that. Then I said that really, we are just getting used to the new normal. His response (he lost a son too, in 2007) was that the new normal just never seems real.

He is right. It doesn't seem real or possible. I would love to place my lips against his little chest and feel his skin on mine, and I would marvel at the fragility of his little chest as it rises then falls. I want to feel his heart beat a million miles an hour and just marvel at how hard a little babies body works to grow. The silence is an ever present reminder of our reality. However, at times the silence is broken. Jace singing "Chim Chiminee" as he spins around the room with a broom in his hand, and the never ceasing support from so many friends. We have one dear friend who keeps sending us wonderful gifts to help us remember Jax. We have thought and thought and Rachel and I have no idea how to show her what her gifts have meant to us. They are and she has been irreplaceable. She has been an instrument of Gods grace.

Now that I have put some thoughts down, I don't know exactly how to end this. God is showing his grace. Our little boy, from a biological standpoint is counted as one of the unlucky ones who did't get the right number of chromosomes into his cell. An example of how our imperfection permeates the entirety of our existence. I can honestly say though that God has shown his grace to baby Jax and the world through him in spite of his bad luck. Rachel and I have grown so close during this time. Families have grown close during this time. To each other and as well to their creator. The week leading up to new years I was feeling guilty that I didn't even research yet what Jax's name meant. We spent hours making sure Jace's was just right. I was hoping it didn't mean something pointless or worse off given Jax's illness something like "unlucky" or "unloved." Turns out, God had a plan all along. Jax means "God has been gracious" or "God has shown favor." I'm not sure Rachel and I even named Jax. I think his name was given to us.

There have been over 4,500 hits in ten different countries to Jax's blog. Not only is our new normal a reality to us, but I know that Jax has created a new normal in many lives. It's made life real to many, as people around the globe experience God's grace through Jax. To all who read this, look around you. Life is real, and see that it is Good. God has been gracious to you, he has shown his favor!

Thank you, Father, for my son. In spite of his unlucky situation, you have shown him favor. He is touching the world.

Gen 1:31

Then God looked over all he had made, and he saw that it was very good!

The Aftermath

I had been surprised a moment earlier by a friend who had just driven 4 hours to be there, and it confirmed, yet again, how friendship gives strength both to the one hurting and to the one who comforts. He undertook an incredibly long and emotional day with the sole purpose of carrying my burden, if at least for a brief moment while we hugged.

A few moments later, I turned to my left and standing 4 feet from me was the warmest smile I have ever seen in my life. There before me stood a man with long dark hair, a strong slender build, and a happy smile which gets sort of hidden behind a pretty impressive beard. He was just standing there smiling with his arms open wide. I had thought of him often as Rachel's pregnancy with Jax brought its news. We now shared a common bond that neither of us particularly care to have. I joined him in what he said was, "one the worst clubs on the planet." We are both fathers who have lost a son.

As I walked over to him, I began to fall apart inside. My eyes welled up and I could no longer keep a strait lip. I was about to be hugged and touched by one who had felt a very similar pain. For some reason, it made me feel safe. My heart was lifted in that moment, and I didn't need any defense in front of him. Even if I tried to put up a defense I think I knew he would see right through it. Neither of us said anything for a few long moments; I just cried in his arms. He broke the silence first, and he told me that he would not lie to me. He told me that the pain doesn't go away and it wont get any easier. I instantly understood something I had wrestled with before Jax was born.

During the time while Jax was in Rachel's belly, I remember thinking of this man. I would see his face in my mind, and it was there in my mind when I had become aware of just how beautiful his smile is. I remember thinking, "After losing his son, how could he possibly smile like that?" The way I felt, and honestly still feel for now, is that my heart will forever feel as though it is shattered and held in place only by the way its jagged and broken edges fit perfectly together. Or as though I hold all of the fragmented pieces in my arms and they are too many for me to hold all at once. Much like the laundry, when I forget to bring a basket along and decide to carry it all in my arms. Whenever I pick up the last piece, another takes its place on the floor. The cycle usually repeats until I am no longer too prideful to either make two trips (which I loathe!) or go and get a basket. I feel as though a piece of my heart will always be on the floor. I just can't hold it all together.

About a week before Jax came, I remember wondering if my heart was becoming callous. I did't have the same emotional feelings I had when we first found out about Jax's T18. God very clearly interrupted my thinking, and He let me know that thought couldn't be further from the truth. On the contrary, my heart wasn't hardening, it was growing stronger. What I thought was a hardening of my heart came from a deliberate act of God's grace. It was the working of that same grace which many countless people were praying to cover my family. This is what my dear friend was showing me through his smile and in his words. To say my pain will not leave or lighten may seem to bring no words of comfort, but God had prepared my mind to understand just what he meant. He spoke the truth to me in love, and in that embrace I felt a portion of my fragmented heart meld back together as a part of the healing process was taking place. I had been given a hope that made sense. I will grow from this.

I thank God for my friend often. I pray also for those of you who read this and are faced with a similar trial. May God bring healing to you through those who have lost. The point is not to escape the pain, and it's certainly not to embrace it. I want to learn to trust God with the path I walk. Scars aren't such a bad thing and many times they serve as a reminder of what we have had the strength to endure. I know that many men will lose sons and daughters as the years go on, and I just hope I will be as strong as my friend was. My hope is that I will be able to smile and give them hug, to show them they are not alone, to show them that even though they fear it they will not be crushed by anxiety and grief, and although they feel weak in that moment the strength will be given them yet again to smile. One day, to the right person, my smile will be as beautiful as my friends was to me. One day, though I still hurt, I will bring comfort.

We pray for you to be blessed by this post,

Marcus and Rachel

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." --Jesus

Gal 6:2

Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ.

Eccl 4:12

A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken.

Our son, Sweet Baby Jax

I know that many of you have seen the video already, but for those of you who live far away, here is the slide show that we played at Jax's memorial service. It is located on the right side of the blog in a video from Youtube.com. Enjoy! If you have not already, read my post "45 minutes 'til Heaven." It gives a moment by moment account of our emotions as Jax's life unfolded before us.

All credit for this video must be given to Jenny, with Sherfsshots.com, as she was there with our family capturing every moment. She edited and rendered this film alone, for free. It is beautiful. Thank you, Jenny.

On our wedding day, our photographer wanted to come in and take a picture of our faces when we first saw each other. Really, she wanted to capture my face as I first took in Rae Rae wearing her wedding dress. I paled in comparison to her. I told Rachel that was not something I wanted anyone else to share. That was to be our moment, and I told her I would never forget how beautiful she looked on the day when we forever join our paths together. I did not need a photo. This is not how either of us felt about the day Jax was born. We wanted every second of this day to be captured.

We want everyone to know about our son Jax. He was here on this earth with you, and he came with a one word message, love! Love your children, love your parents, love your family, love your neighbor, and love the one who made them all! Because, He loves you.

With love for you all,

The Hennon's

Romans 5:8

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

A Debt of Gratitude

There are a few people that Rachel and I want to thank. These are some amazing people. They carried us when we could not walk. We want everyone to know what they have meant to us. They gave of themselves and showed worth to a helpless baby and his grieving family. Thank you.

White Chapel: You removed a burden that will enable us to freely grieve.

Miss Patti and Alexandria’s House: She showed us we are not alone in our struggle. She has held our hand and been a guide in a very confusing and emotional time.

Our Beloved Friend Jenny Scherfenberg with ScherfsShots.com: She captured our baby Jax’s life on camera as it flashed before our eyes. Her creativity is a blessing from God. Jenny, no avenue exists to repay or express what you mean to us.

Doctor Hartung: We would have been blind and confused without you. Without you, how would we have cared for our son? You explained his limitations but celebrated his life. Your honesty, compassion, empathy, and gentle spirit have saturated our lives.

Our care nurse Elizabeth: A listening ear, a tender heart, and caring touch warmed our hospital room in the hours following Jax’s passing. We cherish her for her willingness and desire to experience the joy of our son.

Our Delivery Nurse Amanda: She chose to pick up our burden and walk with us when she could have chose to serve a different family. A maternity floor is filled with such beautiful sounds, but Amanda willingly entered into our silence. She bathed our whole family in love and service, her presence couldn’t be replaced. She is a most beautiful gift.

Tears From a Dad: Part Two

When I intended on writing this, My son Jax was snuggled warmly inside Rachel's belly. As many of you know, he passed away on November 29. He was with us for a total of 45 minutes. WE are having a memorial service for him at the Vineyard church in Kansas City, MO.

It was the quickest 45 minutes I have ever lived through. I have written my thoughts down and will give them tomorrow. After the service, I will post what I have written. It is basically a recount of my experience with my son. What a wonderful time we had.

Monday after work, Rachel told me we needed to go to the hospital. She was having contractions. So we went, hoping they would call her a ninny and send her home. This wasn't the case. She was dilated to 3 cm and having very steady, strong contractions. They admitted her, and we had Jax a few hours later. I have shed more tears than I thought my eyes contain. I don't know where I am getting the fluid. I find myself doing okay for a little while then in a second my emotions turn, and I want to collapse. I keep getting strength to go on. Thank you all for praying for us. I can't believe this whole process has been only about 1 month. I know it will take a lifetime to run its course.

I went from taking for granted that we would have a healthy baby to being thankful for 45 minutes with him. I have another poem to post. It speaks for itself and gives a good representation of how we find our strength. It seems we find the most strength, when we run out of our own. We have nothing left to tell God, as he knows our heart. We just let the weeping do the talking. The weeping entails joy as well as sadness, and our hearts become perfectly in tune with God's. God listening to our heart, as we listen to his.

“Crystal Tears”

One tear rolls down a rosy cheek

Its voice is soft, its voice is sweet.

Another drip from a shiny nose

Can you hear its song, do you hear its prose.

The emotion floods from inside deep,

Forced form a heart with a steadfast beat.

With pain that fills a tearful face,

Seeking strength and finding grace.

Cries to God with crystal tears,

Have sung his praise ten thousand years.

He hears in heaven, and from the stars,

He bottles our tears in diamond jars.

So when your lips are dry and sore,

But there’s passion still in your inner core.

Stand encouraged and do not despair,

For each small tear is worth a thousand prayers.

Two verses came to mind as I wrote this.

1: psalm 56:8 (nlt)

You keep track of all my sorrows.

You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.

2.Romans 8:26

And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness.

For example, we don't know what God wants us to pray for.

But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings

that cannot be expressed in words.