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
Christmas is over. The New Year has come and begun. The holidays daze is done and I’m left in the wake looking ahead at winter.
The decorations are packed back up and put away- all that is except the stray ornament that managed to hide in the hours of clean up and is now hanging out solo waiting to be worth the walk into the basement.
I’m waiting. Waiting for a call, waiting for big news, waiting for a life-altering … continue reading
Recently I had the immense privilege of speaking at our home school co-op’s semester closing program. I wanted to share my words here as well. While written out with the intention to be spoken, they may not be as well suited to impact in places when read. But the message is just the same- Christ must be and is our superior treasure! In this season of gifts, please see Him as your greatest one!
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Merry Christmas!
Christmas time… a … continue reading
The trees were all turning brown.
All just giving up, browning, dying, without even the attempt at color.
Too parched, too worn out, too long of a blazing hot dry summer to give way to one last heaving breathe of beauty before the fall.
Instead just brown.
I guess this is how I often feel- dry, defeated, crispy. Too worn out, too long of a hard hot season to give any color.
We were driving one day and I saw … continue reading
I watched the roller coaster climb and couldn’t even bring myself to believe he was on it. Fighting my own nausea despite not even being on the ride, praying ceaselessly, and resisting panic, I mainly planted myself in denial. This could not be happening. How could I let myself believe that my petite-not-even-40-pounds-just-turned-7-year-old was slowing climbing up that coaster and would actually plunge back down? I was confident he wouldn’t reach the ride-with-an-adult height minimum. And he had. And how … continue reading
I grabbed my gratitude journal, the one I had been neglecting for the last few days, stuck in a funk, and, almost immediately, I put it right back.
The journal inside of a devotional explaining the importance of giving regular thanks. But in this moment all I can think is, what should I be thankful for? Mass shootings? A friend’s dad being taken too soon? Honeymoons turned nightmares? I leave the journal on my nightstand. Make a different mental list.… continue reading