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 39 of #40Days - The Chase

There for a while, phone calls from our birth mom were fairly common. Jill said she had given birth to our kids instead of having abortions, so she wanted to share pictures and keep in contact. At first, I didn't quite understand it, but now I see it as an example of Jill's compassion. She is the most compassionate person I've ever known.

Kaymie, one month old, courtesy of birth mom.

When Kaymie was born, the state didn't take her immediately; it was the same as Asher. It is confusing, since they took Riley at the hospital when he was newborn, but we heard that the new baby girl was born and staying with birth mom. We were concerned for Kaymie's health and safety based on the previous experiences. We prayed for her and wondered how she was doing.

After a few months, birth mom called and said she was having troubles with her marriage or something like that and asked us to take Kaymie for adoption. So we went to meet her at a Walmart parking lot. She never showed. We went looking for her, having a general idea of which neighborhood she lived in, we asked people to point us her way, but we didn't find her. We went home, without Kaymie.

This situation repeated itself one more time. We received the phone call asking us to take the baby girl. We went to get her, but no show. This time, the strangest thing happened. We were waiting at Walmart. I was standing outside the store; it was night time. Then birth mom walked directly by me to get a paper out of the paper box beside me, as if she didn't see me or know who I was. But I saw her and the chase was on.

After I said her name, she jumped back in the car her husband was driving and they took off. Jill and I followed. We hoped they would lead us to the baby, whom we didn't see in the car. They soon realized we were following and turned down some back roads increasing in speed. We gave chase thinking this could end badly, like something you'd see on tv, so we slowed down and found our way back to the highway. Again, we wondered where was the baby girl and was she ok.

It was then that Jill and I agreed that we would not go back there again unless it was official. A caseworker would have to call us, not the birth mom. The next call we got came from the birth dad. He was taking Kaymie to the Dept. of Human Services to hand her over. He and the birth mom had been arguing again, so he said he thought this was best for the baby. Still, we waited for the official call which indeed came. Our case worker asked us to drive up there, about an hour from our home, to pick up the baby.

On such short notice, Jill and I couldn't both go this time, so Jill went. When they got home, Kaymie was crying. She had cried all the way home and continued crying till bed time. At seven months old, she didn't recognize any of us. She must have been scared, and probably tired too.

The next morning, when Kaymie woke up, she was in a good mood, not crying. She looked like a different child. Jill had her decked out in a pink sleeper and Kaymie was so cute. I took her picture and printed a few to send with the kids to school so they could show their teachers and friends their baby sister.

Kaymie is a charmer; everybody likes her. She is a kind, helpful, beautiful, smart and athletic girl. We are very proud of her.

God Bless,
Dadofmykids

This is # 39 of Forty Days. Tomorrow is the last post of the series. Learn more here.

Day 23 of #40Days - "WE'RE HAVING A BABY!"

Jill asked me if I thought the pregnancy would be good.  I told her I had a positive feeling about it.  I am no psychic; but I felt good about this one.

I lost track of how many miscarriages we'd had.  I know she was afraid this could end the same way.  But this time was different.  Our baby itch was already being scratched by Tucker.  I hear a lot of people have a baby after adopting one.  Although Tucker's adoption hadn't been filed in court, we were satisfied that it would happen in time.

We used a high risk obstetrician and the pregnancy progressed pretty much as it should.  Jill watched everything she ate; took care to avoid smoke or other toxins; and didn't even take an aspirin.  She really took care of the baby. 

And let me tell you a thing or two about taking care of an in utero child.  I am a man, unable to speak from a woman's perspective, but listen up.  If your wife or girlfriend gets pregnant, encourage her to see her doctor asap and often.  Take her.  Support her in eating healthy foods.  Support her emotionally by providing a decent, calm, loving environment.  Take care of your woman.  Talk to your baby through her belly. 

The consequences of in utero alcohol or drug abuse, physical or emotional abuse, or simply not seeing a doctor, last for a lifetime.  You want your kids to grow up smart, well behaved and fiscally responsible, don't you?  Well, it really  starts at conception. 

*End of rant about pre-natal care.*

Once we got past the first trimester, we breathed a sigh of relief.  We'd never been that far before.  And, we were having a girl.

We were out shopping one weekend.  Actually, Jill was shopping.  I was taxiing her from store to store, probably driving Tucker around while he napped in the car seat.  Jill got in the van with a shopping bag and said she had bought the first  dress for our baby.  When she pulled it out to show me the cute little red and white gingham dress with apples on the front, it hit me: 

"WE'RE HAVING A BABY!"

It was like my ah-ha moment.  Suddenly, I could visualize having a baby girl.

God bless,
Dadofmykids

This is post # 23 of Forty Days.  Learn more here.

The Forty Day Project: Day 1 of #40Days

• After Noah got all the animals on the boat, it rained forty days.
• Moses was on the mountain forty days and got the Ten Commandments.
• The Israelites spied out Canaan Land forty days.
• Goliath verbally abused Israel's soldiers forty days.
• Jesus fasted forty days.
• After the resurrection, Jesus remained with his disciples forty days.  Then he ascended.

I don't expect rain, stone tablets, the promised land, a dead giant,  to be offered the whole world.  But I could handle some time with Jesus.

Let me explain The Forty Day Project.

Sometimes, when God speaks, he makes himself clear.  No question.  Other times, he drops hints; makes suggestions, like a sign over a business you pass every day on the way to work.  You learn the name of the business, but if the name doesn't include what they do, you really don't have a full understanding.  You don't have much info.

I've been passing a sign.  It's a neon sign that flashes "Forty Days".  I think God put the sign there.  I've slowed down to get a better view of the sign and its surroundings.  The building beneath it looks like a blog.  My blog.  But the timeline is out of order.  I see my children and grandchildren reading my blog.  Studying the pictures and videos to see where they got their own physical characteristics.  Drake got his smile from his dad, Daniel.  Kk's little girl has long curly hair and plays the piano, just like her mom did at that age.

Then the time line skips back to 2011.  There's another dad, someone I've never met, looking at my blog posts.  He has a lot in common with me.  And he finds it re-assuring that he's not alone.  There's a young Christian believer there, too.  She wants to know what it was like for Jilly and me to go through the same junk she's going through.  She wants to know if she's gonna come out the other side and be ok.

This is how The Forty Day Project was born.  I may abbreviate it "40 Days".  At this point I still don't know what the end result will look like.  I think God is urging me to trust Him for it.

Let me speak about my fears and objections for a minute.  I'm afraid that I might blog for self gratification, or for recognition.  I still don't know if I'll even go public with this idea.  Just like anybody else, I only have so many hours in a day.  So I don't know if 40 Days will be worth the time it may take away from my family or my business.  I don't know for sure if I have created this vision in my own mind or if God really did give it to me.

But faith may overcome my fears and objections. 

I want to simply do two things:

1. To love God.
2. To love my fellow man as I love myself.

Will "40 Days" help me do these two things?  I think it could.  If I am able to keep the focus away from me and on God and my readers.  Again, my readers may include my family, my descendants, my friends, fellow believers and non-believers. You are already one of my readers.

Who are you?  Please comment on this post, regardless of when you found "40 Days".  Let me know something about you.  Do you need anything? Encouragement? Prayer? Hope?  Anything that I have the ability and time to give?

That's Day One.  Thirty nine more to go.  Who's with me?

God bless,
Dadofmykids

I am thankful for my Father in law.

Tonight, he is in the hospital.  I don't think he really knows what the doctor said about his condition.  That's today.  But there've been over 80 years leading up to this day.

During those 80+ years, he survived the depression by helping his mother fish for food, he picked blackberries, delivered milk, lied about his age to join the army, served in WWII, kept the hosiery mill running,  and fathered my Jilly.  Anybody can be a sperm donor, but it takes someone special to be a dad.  And Dad is exactly who he is to my Jilly.

He helped raise her to become my wife and the mother of my children.  I can't tell you how many times Jilly has told me that girls marry men who are like their fathers.  If she means I am like her Dad, then I take pride in that.  I hope to raise my girls to be as good of mothers as my Jilly.  Not just mothers, but whole women.

We usually call him Papaw, nowadays.  He lives with us since his heart bypass surgery.  I am thankful for him.

God bless,

Dadofmykids.

--
Andy Brasfield

"Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me"  Mark 9:37  (NIV)