Quiet in His Love

How much do you say? When someone says "How are you?," is your standard answer "I'm fine." Or do you give some details? Or, perhaps, it depends on the person who asks the question. If it's a close friend, you likely go deep with your answer. If it's in the five minutes before the event you're at starts...you likely don't say much. When is more detail the correct response? When is it not? When do you protect your heart? When do you share it? So many questions. Honestly...I don't know that I have any helpful answers or direction for you, me, or anybody. I do know that, if you're hurting, struggling, or searching, it can be incredibly hard to open up to people that don't feel "safe." Friend, I wish I could tell you it is going to get easier...it is going to start hurting less...it is safe to share your heart...but sometimes those words just aren't going to ring true for you. I haven't walked in your shoes, and you haven...

When situations get tough, waters get rough, challenges come, and it's easier to withdraw and hunker down, how do others see us? Truly see us... Being seen matters in those moments. A fellow human being stepping into your world to check on you...to make sure you're okay...to encourage you...to pray with you...to tell you you're missed...cherished...important...can go a long way to helping you in being seen...knowing that you are seen. Rather than falling into the "out of sight, out of mind" mentality that so often litters the days, months, and years of our lives, wouldn't it be better to know that you are lovingly seen, kindly cared for, attentively checked on? The world is a hard place, full of mishaps, hurts, trials, and valleys, yet knowing that there is another person, a fellow church member, a loyal friend, reaching out to you, keeping you in their prayers, making sure you are still fighting for peace makes a significant mark on the life you live. Being s...

Hope...can be fleeting. It can come and go in a split second. It can settle around your shoulders like a cloak of comfort. Oh, those are the days! When hope comes in, as if carried by two bluebirds from Snow White , and wraps around you and ministers to your heart...that is a good day! Even if it only stays for an hour or two, it is hope and it starts to take root in your heart. Hope says, "It isn't hopeless. I'm here. I'm with you. I can help you get through this." Hope is a messenger sent from our Father to give us, well, hope. He sends those moments, those hours, those days...to give us a foothold or, perhaps, a toehold. Sometimes that's all we need to get us through the next lightless moment, the next challenge, the next storm. Oh yes...hope..it comes for us...even when it "feels" like it won't be back...it comes. Hang on to that, friends! Grab it and hang on tight. Snuggle in to it. Breathe in its fragrance. Soak your fingers and toes in it....

Some days are more of a struggle than others. It all depends. On what? I'm not even sure I know the answer to that question. I do know that those that I share with are very encouraging and that they believe that I will find help and hope. I need both. Truly. Each day feels different and none of them feel "normal." Bits and pieces feel "normal" but never the whole day. I want to see miracles and joy sprout from this time. I want to be able to look back on this season and say God got me through, family got me through, friends got me through. There needs to be a pot of "gold" at the end of this rainbow. So much of who I am is suppressed or overwrought or confused right now. I feel as though I live in a haze of Hallmark movies and naps, with a little bit of living thrown in for good measure. It's a struggle. My own mind is not so comfortable right now...not such a lovely place to be. Yet, there must be help and hope out there for me and for others like...

I'm sitting here in my living room thinking about the list of events happening this week. The events that I need to drive to. Places my children need to be. An event my husband doesn't want to miss by doing the driving. It isn't the fear of driving that gets me. It's the fear of having an attack...a panic attack. It sucks! Blunt...yes. True...100 times yes. Questions swirl...Why...? I have no answers. Only more questions. More worries. More roadblocks. More hurdles to find a way around since jumping over them feels beyond impossible. This is not me. Yet, it is happening inside me. What will help? Better food choices? More sleep? Walks every day? Less caffeine? More water? Oh how I wish I had answers. Praying feels undoable...feels forced...feels unwieldy. This is not me. Where is the lady who likes to meet a friend for coffee? The lady who enjoys a drive out in the country? The lady who enjoys taking her family to the places they need to go? The lady who can and has bee...

Today, I am living challenged. I am challenged by anxiety, by stress, by my mind. Have you ever been challenged by those things? It feels as though the whole world, at least in your mind, is spinning completely out of control. I hate it. Most people, I think, don't want to talk about anxiety, about worry, about fear. It makes them look weak or less somehow. Why? Should it? Does it need to? Oh, if only... If only we could all pretend all the time that everything is "perfect." Would that help the situation? Change the reality? No. It would be a lie. Nobody wants that. I hope not anyway. Oh, friends, please be kind to yourself and others. This road I am on feels long, uneven, filled with potholes, scattered with booby traps, and hard...so very hard. When life narrows to a small focus and it feels like every thing that used to be a joy no longer is, you may feel the need to throw your hands up and cry out. It's okay to do so. Truly. I won't judge you...hopefully other...

It's been too long since I've hopped on here and shared my heart with all of you. Life, lately, has felt overwhelming, scary, anxiety-ridden. Things that normally don't get me worked up or cause anxiety in me have started to again. Strong anxiety and even panic attacks have been an on-again off-again thing with me over the years...even in my teens. Now, as a woman almost halfway through my forties, I feel as though I should be a "big girl" with a certificate of graduation from all things anxiety and fear. Honestly, I think sometimes my increase in age also contributes to my increase in anxiety and fear and "Oh wow, I messed up and can't do it over" moments. Why? Can I blame hormones? Maybe. Can I blame too much caffeine? Probably a contributor. Can I blame Satan? I imagine on some level I can. Can I blame...? Will placing blame help me in this moment? Unlikely. What will help me? Refocusing... Yes, refocusing. At least, it will help to some degree. Y...

This morning, my husband and I went on a drive to Rochester just so I could get my picture taken with other women who had contributed to a devotional book. Just over an hour to drive one way for a photo. I thought it was a bit excessive, but in my heart I really wanted to go get my picture taken with the other ladies who had been chosen for publication. My husband knows me well and took the time to bless me with a drive and a coffee on the way home. He made his way into the event location filled to brimming with women, and maybe a handful of other men, so that I could do something that would bring my heart joy. I am very blessed! Sometimes joy comes in the simplest of things: having your picture taken, receiving a handmade card from a child or friend, getting a text from your mom, seeing a picture from years ago flash across your screen. What a gift it is to find joy in the little things. Yes, our two hours away from home turned into four, and there were challenges along the way, inclu...

How has it been two years? Two years without your laughter, your corny jokes, your deep wisdom, your encouraging words...two years without your meal time prayers, your hugs, your special knock on the door, your dreams of the future...two years without you. How can it be true? We have gone through the seasons, through birthdays, through holidays, through ups and downs...all without you. You are experiencing things beyond our imaginations, and we are experiencing life in a new form, a new way. Heart hurts, belly laughs, new memories made...all without you. I know that the pain will lessen...it will become easier... At least that's what I'm supposed to believe. The truth is that if I let myself think too much about how you left us, my heart will not be at rest, peace will flee. When will I have peace? When will life be okay without you here to share in it with us? When will I trust the goodness of God again with my whole heart? You are missed. You have left behind a legacy - a her...

I am amazed at how quickly the last year and a half went by. I sometimes wonder how I meet each day knowing that the only way I'll see my dad is in a photo or a thought or a dream. I'll only hear him in my memories or dreams. It saddens me to think of all the opportunities that have gone by for my children to interact with their grandpa, for my mom to tell my dad a quote from the book she's reading, for me to hear his signature knock on our front door. Yet he is already home with his grandchildren, his father-in-law, his mother-in-law, and so very many others. He has seen things we struggle to imagine; he has joined the cloud of witnesses. He is now cheering, along with them, as the rest of us continue our race. Knowing that today was coming made me a bit sad. So this morning, rather spur of the moment, I decided to find ways to celebrate and honor my dad. The first way we honored him was by getting chocolate shakes - made with chocolate ice cream and chocolate syrup - the ...

I often wonder, when these time markers roll around, how time has gone by so quickly. 13 months have gone by since my father's death. It seems unreal. I wish it were. Time markers have a way of sneaking up on us, both bad and good. It seems like time is creeping along at a snail's pace and then I look up and see my firstborn...almost 14, in ninth grade, full of questions, worries, and amazing potential. I remember trying to convince her to crawl...and walk...and eat baby food...and all the things. Encourage bravery...cheer on victories...rave over accomplishments. Today marks a 24-hour period in time that will come and go like so many other 24-hour periods. It marks 13 months since my father's heavenly arrival...2 weeks until my firstborn son's 12th birthday...20 days until my firstborn's 14th birthday...27 days until my youngest daughter's 11th birthday...and the list goes on. This 24-hour period will never mark the same significant moments ever again because t...

Tomorrow marks 13 years since my husband and I lost our second child (third in line) to miscarriage. I cannot begin to tell you how shocking it is to realize so much time has already passed since that day we were in our car headed to Minnesota for a wedding. After having lost a child in 2007, I hoped I'd never have to experience the devastating heartache of a miscarriage again. However, on September 19, 2009, as life would have it, I began to bleed and I knew deep down that our little one was gone. The despair and heart-wrenching sorrow were awful. Tony and I spent the week he had taken off for the trip to Minnesota, mostly at home, grieving. Grief has a way of ebbing and flowing, overwhelming and then settling to a quiet background murmur. It can smack you in the face or creep up in a moment of quiet reflection. Today, as I consider the loss of my son and the many other losses I have encountered in September, I realize that, though I am utterly without understanding of the reasons...

One year. So much can happen in one year. A child can be conceived and born. A house can be built. A team can make it to the championship game and...lose. A family can grow through adoption. A family can pay off debt. A child can graduate high school and step out into the world of college. A president can come into office. A person can surrender their life to Christ. The list is almost limitless because a year can be both long and short. It can feel like a never-ending run or it can seem to have slipped away in the blink of an eye. One year has come and gone since the day I said goodbye to my dad. Four of us gathered around him, prayed over him, cried over him, pleaded with God, and hoped. We were with him when his heart stopped beating this side of heaven. We were with him when he strode into another place. He was walking in the presence of God while we were weeping at his side. That day, in some ways, seems like it couldn't possibly be one whole year ago, yet it is. Today, I have...

Eleven months have passed since that awful day that we had to say goodbye to my dad. So many days I am still overcome by strong emotions and the loss of hoped-for experiences. I am so very thankful for all the wonderful experiences I did have with my dad, and he had with my children and my husband. My joy has shriveled into a tangled mess of hurt, sadness, confusion, and, occasionally, anger. The truth is that when I say I'm okay...I'm not...not entirely. I'm broken...heartbroken. I'm treading water, staying afloat. I put on a brave face and step into the world and live, but the living isn't quite as joyful, not quite as carefree as it once was. The last two and a half years have been full of challenges, hurts, heartaches, unexplainable craziness. So many are hurt, scared, treading water. They may be experiencing loss, anxiety, fear, confusion, financial troubles, medical concerns, family upheaval. Our prayer list seems to grow weekly, if not daily, with another...