Little Lion

(This is not a pretty entry, but I felt it was time to finally share it. For a long time after my Edy died, I felt ashamed of the relief I felt. I felt ashamed that I didn't want to kiss her head because she was no longer alive. I felt like a complete failure as a mother, that I didn't deserve her and losing her was my punishment for being such a failure. God has walked Dustin and I through so much healing since then, He has amazed me with His faithfulness to restore, encourage, and heal all that has felt so very, very broken since losing our baby girl. There is still not a day that goes by that I don't think about her or miss her, but the grief no longer haunts me. I see how, in the hands of our very loving Father, the shadows of grief are dispelled and grief no longer becomes a fearful thing. Not quite friend, but no longer an enemy. Only God can turn our sorrow into joy, and that joy is so deep it becomes a cornerstone. It is no fleeting feeling, but a river of str...

I almost took a nosedive out of my office chair, so surprised by the sun was I. After days of deluge and dark skies, the sun is peeking at me with an impish grin from behind my office curtains and without realizing it, my heart feels tickled by the warmth of it. It reminds me to have hope. Today started off with a visit to my doctor. One of my many doctors. You see, for the past two years Dustin and I have been travelling down Infertility Highway, and every mile along the way has a mandatory road side stop, each one representing one more invasive test, one more blood draw, one more change to diet or medication or opinion. I'm not complaining, I'm thankful for my doctors, I'm thankful that they have hope...., because there are days that I'm so tired of fighting for this, it's good to have someone to have hope for me. But "this" represents a baby. Ours. Isn't that worth fighting for? Yes. Yes it is. Things have been getting better for me...

Here's a funny story, I recently took a mental hike and stepped in something pretty stinky. When I looked down to see what that something stinky might be, I found myself ankle deep in a........ Steaming Pile of the Uglies. My own, in fact. I think I must have suffered an implosion of sorts, and everything that was "in" decided to come "out". Out came the angry witch lady who yells at her dog for being alive. Out came the petulant toddler screaming at her husband....., who dared to say words. Out came the lazy sloth....., who decided that living in a pig sty could actually be cozy. Out came the sullen teenager, who decided that silence is the best sort of communication. Out came the despairing and wilted lily, who decided that life was Just-So-Totally-Over. Oh boy did it steam and did it stink. I must have been saving it all up for months. It's funny how emotions can build up like that. Like a giant 2 liter bottle of soda shaken up and re...

I just had one of those moments where someone in my life, who is no longer living, has just reached out and pointedly pointed to the words I so desperately needed to read. And looking back at my previously written sentence one could assume that this happens often. No. It really doesn't. Now, before anyone starts thinking this is a ghost story and that my next paragraph will begin with a "dark and stormy night", let me just put those thoughts to rest. That is not how my next paragraph will start. It will start like this; I was laying in bed with an upset tummy, possibly a flu bug but more likely the result of all the Frank's Hot Sauce I decided to dump on my Christmas mac and cheese. I had just finished watching the most recent episode of Project Runway Allstars and was browsing through Instagram and Facebook and....., well, digital garbage really, when I started to feel a sense of unrest in the region I like to call my heart. You see, every once in awhile...

"Teach us to number our days aright that we may gain a heart of wisdom." Psalm 90:12 Maybe it's because I'm getting older, or maybe it's because I've finally slowed down enough to let my thoughts ruminate and travel the more cognizant recesses of my mind. Whichever the case, I've been thinking alot about this passage of scripture. I memorized this verse out of Psalms when I was about 11 and just loved the poetry of the words. It sounded like it meant something deep and impactful, though my 11 year old brain didn't really understand what about the words was so meaningful.  This summer my husband and I got to go visit my grandma Joy in the wonderfully hot town of Mesa, AZ. Did I mention it was hot? My parents had rented a house with air conditioning and a pool and ceiling fans in every room. A definite oasis from the heat of June in Arizona. We stayed for a week and every morning of that week my parents would go pick my grandma up from th...

In December of 2012 I blogged about the following passage of scripture: My beloved spoke and said to me,      “Arise, my darling,      my beautiful one, come with me. 11  See! The winter is past;      the rains are over and gone. 12  Flowers appear on the earth;      the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves      is heard in our land. 13  The fig tree forms its early fruit;      the blossoming  vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling;      my beautiful one, come with me.” Song of Solomon 2:10-13 I can't seem to get away from this promise. A year has passed since I read this passage aloud to my husband and recognized it as a promise from God to us, and then blogged about it. A whole year in which life has been lived, worked, and experienced. I'd like to say it has all been positive, but that wo...

“But they’ll say, ‘Why should we? What’s the point? We’ll just live the way we’ve always lived, doom or no doom.’” Jeremiah 18:12 (The Message) For some reason this passage struck a chord with me. I couldn’t help but feel the passivity in the message it spoke….., what’s the point of living according to God’s standards? Time passes as it always does, we grow old, then die…., just like everyone else. Why should we expend energy believing in a God we can’t see, that requires an inexhaustible supply of trust and faith to believe in? These questions seem so logical if I’m looking at what’s right in front of me. If I’m letting the right here and right now be the determiner of my actions and the influence of my thought life. This passage bespeaks of a “grasp what you can now” mentality that holds no hope of a future beyond what this earth holds in our clay bodies. Is that really how I want to live? Is that how I am living? In some respects I can see a picture of myself in...