There’s just something about loss anniversaries that’s inexplicably hard. And it’s grief, yes, but it’s something more than that, something about being in the same spot of the cosmos that you were when things happened. There’s a heavy darkness that comes, that you know isn’t just the sadness in your heart but it’s the wound in your spirit being pressed.
A couple Sundays ago, it was the anniversary of when we took the first pregnancy test that would end … continue reading
I remember sitting in the service on Sanctity of Life Sunday, expecting the usual pro-life lectures, anti-abortion stances, but what came next surprised me.
Because in that Sanctity of Life series the topics were on foster care and miscarriage.
And I still feel just about as stunned now at remembering it as I did then sitting there hearing it for the first time.
What kind of church takes the podium on Sanctity of Life Sunday and leaves the opportunity to … continue reading
The numbers roll over, 2020, 2021, and I hear the comments, see the hope.
This is the year, this will be the year, to fulfill all the shattered dreams of 2020 and live our best lives, and restoration is at hand! So long, 2020, couldn’t get rid of you soon enough.
And I hear the comments, see the hope, but my heart skips a beat, my stomach knots, and my mind whispers: Be careful what you wish for.
I remember … continue reading
Maybe it’s because the trees went from green to brown to fallen.
Maybe it’s the imagining of them soon stark brown, see-through, bare.
Or maybe- likely- it’s that when they were flower-filled and magical we were locked in on lockdown.
Whatever it is, I know that winter is bearing its teeth at me when it’s not even yet here.
I struggle with depression regularly and added seasonal sadness on a good year. When life is right, February is still long, … continue reading
Ecclesiastes tells us there’s a time to dance and a time to weep. But life begs me ask the question, is there a time for both?
I’ve long been convinced of the need for the appropriateness of responding to seasons of grief with tears and seasons of gain with glee. But what about when both seasons collide? It’s not always so easy to differentiate.
Life has certainly been seasons of ups and downs and not long ago was a long … continue reading
It’s another day of waiting for a post-court call. How many does this make? I can’t keep track. Can’t keep track of the hours and days of waiting to hear what’s happened in there while we’re left out here. Left out here like we’re nobody, because, I guess, technically, legally, we are.
I can hear our social worker say it again- “She won’t be in care when she’s 2.” I remember when she said it, inwardly flinching, flinching at her … continue reading
My five year old does the funniest thing sometimes- he covers his ears, and then yells whatever message it is he’s trying to get to someone else.
He’s so desperate to get the words across, so hilariously cracked-up in his goofiness, or so deeply angry, that he screams or hollors or shouts whatever it is to whoever it is that’s the target of his outcry. But his own noise is too much for him, so he covers his own ears.… continue reading
National Foster Care Month.
ALS Awareness Month.
International Bereaved Mother’s Day.
Mother’s Day.
It’s May. All of these calendar happenings have me remembering, which doesn’t take much, because May is a month of memories anyways.
And under the weight of this quarantine, the remembering of that season and the reality of this current one have me in a whole new mixed up place of ache and crazy.
ALS came crashing into my life two Mays ago, when it almost took … continue reading
And then the world you know rips the rug out from under you and is no longer the world you know.
We are stuck at home, the calendar wiped clean, cancellations prevalent, friends unseen, momentum gone.
I’ve been here before.
Two years ago, when the rug was ripped out from under me the last time, and I found myself stuck at home for months, too high-risk and unwell to be up and out, and suddenly the calendar was cleared … continue reading
And just like that, winter clasped its ugly hand over my mouth and stifled the words that would be.
“It’s been a long time since you posted anything,” Facebook notification reminds me.
I know. I know it has, but there’s two types of too hard- too hard that I have to write and too hard to write. It’s been the latter.
And I question why? Would I feel less restless if I had a reason?
But I see the “smaller” … continue reading