Something happened to me at choir practice tonight.

The creation story doesn't mention music, but God created it. Music is like the wind. It is invisible yet real. You can feel it but you can't touch it or hold it. It can be gentle and it can be powerful.

Tonight I find myself having been moved by music. A song, inspired. It Is Well is an old hymn. You have most likely heard it. I grew up singing it with my fellow Baptists. I didn't really like it. The song lacks the tempo and syncopation that I normally require - something that makes me tap my foot - something with a groove.

Then, when our baby Georgia died, our dear friends sang It Is Well at her memorial service. They did a beautiful job with the song, but the sorrowful occasion turned me even more against the song. From that day till this one I have not been able to listen to the song or sing it with any amount of joy or comfort.

Hear me when I say, the song brought me no comfort. None. In fact, it often made me either sad or angry. I really could not agree with the premise that it was indeed well. I understand the man who wrote the words had endured much greater loss than I. That didn't matter to me.

Until tonight.

FBC: It Is Well With My Soul - Concord Worship from First Baptist Concord on Vimeo.

As a new member of the choir at First Baptist Concord, I was not aware that this song was in their repertoire. Then we practiced the song. Thankfully, it was arranged by Tim Paul. Classically arranged under the influence of the Holy Spirit. While we were rehearsing the song, my dread began to turn. It was simply beautiful.

And the memories of our sweet Georgia Rose swept my mind. I saw her once again lying on the kitchen table, lifeless as I pushed air into her lungs with little puffs. Again, I regretted obeying the police officer who told me to stand back. I had touched her for the last time and didn't realize it. I wish I would have told him where to go, and picked her up to hold her one last time.

But the beauty of this song and the Holy Spirit who inspired it washed away those horrible things while I sang.

It is well. It is well with my soul.

I still feel the grief, but I have been touch by the Holy Spirit of God. He has given me a measure of healing, whether great or small I cannot tell. I am ready to sing this song. Thank you LORD for music. 

God bless you,
Dadofmykids

VLOG - She'd look like a Brasfield.

Completely un-edited, single take video blog, 2013 Sept 05.

Happy Memories of Baby Georgia

Today I want to share a few precious photos of Georgia Rose.  Today marks six years since she passed.

This first photo was taken the day we brought her home.  Jill wrapped her like a burrito in this home-made crochet blanket.  Who made the blanket?  I don't remember.  Doesn't she look sweet?

Homecoming was so exciting.  Here, Jilly shows off Georgia.  It was a great day for The Brasfield Nation.  We couldn't explain why Georgia brought us so much joy.  Maybe it was because we had come out of a dark period.  You can see the happiness on Jill's face.  There's not a mother on Earth that can take care of a baby better than my Jilly.

Look how little Levi was.  That's his Aunt Sandra holding his hand.  She rightfully wanted to keep him from touching too hard.

Here we are playing cards - probably Go Fish.  Or maybe it was Crazy Eights.  I like it better than Go Fish.  I think Jilly took this photo.  After Georgia died, I was thankful that we had held her so often.

This was also taken the first day.  A few days later, I shaved my beard because I thought my whiskers might be too rough on Georgia's face.  However, I quickly grew it back.

Today, I am able to see the happiness in memories of Georgia.  Other days, memories of her death over-ride.  Please say a prayer for Jilly and me, plus our whole family, today.

God Bless,
Dadofmykids

Day 32 of #40Days - Altered State of Consciousness.

Less than a year after Georgia died, Levi got sick with a stomach bug.  Most every parent has seen this in their children, right?  Jill and I did all the usual things to treat him, including increased fluids and a trip to the doctor.

However, he got worse.  He awoke the next morning very lethargic.  He wouldn't drink anything and seemed distant.  Jill said, "something's wrong," and took him back to the doctor who sent them straight to Children's Hospital.

The hospital staff determined that he was dehydrated and eventually gave him some apple juice, which he drank.  Then he got worse suddenly.  Jill called me to come up there.  I left the kids with Mickey, my mother in law.

I remember calling my mom and our pastor.  I told them both how scary this was for me, especially because of Georgia.  The pain from her death was still so strong.  It hurts to even type this paragraph.

Jill and Levi were in the emergency department when I got there.  Nurses swarmed around him.  One of them was explaining that Levi was in an altered state of consciousness.  He was limp and unable to communicate or make eye contact.  They didn't know why.

They took blood samples and found that his blood sugar level was dangerously low.  They gave him what looked like a shot of Karo Syrup and he immediately raised up.  It took a couple days for him to come out of it, but he made a full recovery.  The doctor told us that Levi came close to dying.

The picture above is Levi shortly after this.  I took it as a sign that he was okay.  Thank God.

 Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good!

His faithful love endures forever.

Psalm 136

God bless,
Dadofmykids

This is post # 32 of Forty Days.  Learn more here.

Day 9 of #40Days - Man up.

I've seen guys who are proud that they don't change their baby's diapers.  They'll pass a stinky little one off to the wife.  I'm not saying to push anybody out of the way for a chance to change a stinky.  But I am saying, "Man up!"  You can change the oil in your truck and let it run down your arm when you remove the oil drain plug.  You can dig a hook out of a fish's mouth.  But you can't clean poop off your baby or wipe puke up from the floor?

I've been puked on and pooped on more times than I could possibly remember. So the Forty Day project wouldn't be complete without at least one poop story.

Riley and Tilley were infants when the roto virus struck everybody in our house.  Roto virus is a very mean stomach flu.  I happened to be changing the babies' diapers. With a diaper removed, I was hit with a brown blast that soaked me. Fortunately, I was only dressed in a bath robe and underwear.

Then there was that time at Shoney's restaurant when one of the babies puked on me. I finished my meal in my undershirt.

And the time Tucker filled his car seat with a puddle of poop on the way to church. We discovered it as we took him out of the car in the church parking lot. What a mess.
 
Georgia made mustard in her diapers.  It got to where I would lay out newspapers in the floor and put her on them.  It was like a disposable changing pad.

Babies are messy. That's for sure.   But there's nothing sweeter than a baby.

God bless,
Dadofmykids

This is day #9 of 40 Days.

Today is the date, but two days from now is the day I remember.

We joked about the police escort that brought her to the KY/TN state line; how unusual it was.  The social workers brought her to us at a gas station on the TN side.  It was a very special day - two days after her birth.

We were so happy.  So blessed.

Every time I try to remember her birth date, I go to Dec. 10 and subtract 2.

I called people on the way home, to tell them the good news.  I told Charles Fritts, "We got her!"  What a happy day it was.

It was such a happy homecoming.  Jilly wrapped her up like a pink burrito and let Georgia's brothers and sisters take turns holding her while she was still new.

Joy and sorrow.  God has blessed me with an amazing wife, wonderful children and faithful friends.

Who is it? Tell me who it is.

Daniel was at work when he heard there were cops at our house. He rushed home. When he got there, he knew someone had died. He simply said, "Who is it? Tell me who it is."

I said, "Georgia".

The next four kids, by age, had spent the night with my mother-in-law. When they got home, I had to tell them, too. "I have some very bad news about Georgia," I said. "She went to sleep and didn't wake up. I tried to wake her, but she's gone. Her little spirit is in Heaven with Jesus now."

This scene from March 10-11, 2006, replayed in my head while I was driving to work today. I didn't ask for it, expect it, or even want it. But there it was. Emotion and everything.

I have worried that I had become too numb to feel that anymore. But I am grateful to know that my heart is still tender enough.

It is sad, I know. But, the story doesn't end there. My life didn't end with Georgia's life. I survived. We survived. You will survive.

The Hope of Eternal Life in Jesus Christ, and my beautiful wife and eight remaining children kept me going. Time has allowed the wound to heal. I am scarred.

Life is full of change. Good and bad. Be encouraged. You will heal in time.