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Dear August 25th

I don’t know how to put into words what I feel for you. There is a bitterness in your existence for me, yet I know I have at last come to forgive you. Like Job cursing the day of his birth I too cursed you praying you “would be in darkness, nor let God above care for you, nor let light shine on you” (Job 3:4). I was weak with my own pain, I wanted the darkness to seize you and yet it had somehow found it’s way inside of me. What good could come of this? What peace is there for the soul torn apart? What use is there in tears that fall silently in the night? My pain was great yet there was something greater still at work.

It took five long years of dreading your calendar day before at last a fog lifted and I came to realize I don’t hate you anymore. You can exist again. You can have peace because I finally have mine.

Six years ago I woke up and opened my eyes and I did not hate you, but that did not last long. It was shortly after waking up that I realized the little heart beating inside my belly had ceased. The agonizing denial lasted only a few days until the doctors confirmed what my body had already told me, Joshua was dead. Without ceremony he was gone almost as if he had never been there in the first place. But my heart knew as it broke in ways I couldn’t define or put into words. An emptiness I had never known swallowed me up from the inside out. I sat in sorrow by myself and consumed anger towards you until, without me noticing anger in turn consumed me.

I, who pride myself in my wordsmithing, could not find a way to express the anguish inside of me, nor to reflect on or do honor to the short lived life that had been inside of me. Even now, when I feel more joy and less sorrow for the life that was, have a hard time expressing what lies in my heart. I want to share what I feel even though the words aren’t graceful because I know there are others who have experienced the pain of loss who need to know, that if they can find a way to let it; sorrow can turn into joy. That is the greatest lesson I learned from that dark day, and the days to follow, that sorrow and joy - like the greatest of dancers - meet together as tears that gracefully give and take across the dance floor of your cheeks.

You are Forgiven,


You Are Grounded

Sometimes when the kids get grounded they just have to sit an feel the pain of the punishment and other times they get the opportunity to earn back whatever it is they lost. The other day they were a mess at bed time, jumping on the bed, flickering the lights, spitting at each other… Do I need to go on? They got grounded from video games and friends for 3 days. Yesterday they had to feel the pain of that punishment, but today I gave them the opportunity to work it off. As we walked home from the bus they eagerly inquired about their punishment and learned they would have the ability to work it off, their friends were there.

We arrived home and 10 minutes later I hear a knock on the door, it was their friends. I kindly told them they’d have to wait until the kids were done with their extra chores and was shocked and surprised when they said they had heard and they were there to help. Man parenting is really hard sometimes. Of course I wanted to make my kids scrub the toilets and pull weeds on their own; this is a punishment and they need to feel the discomfort of it… But at the same time what a Godly picture of community and friendship it would be to let their friends come alongside them and shoulder the burden.

Today I let their friends help them because the beauty of such a gesture on their friends part was profound and overwhelming (I mean the boys bathroom that makes me gag, yuck!). Naturally we’ll be talking about all of this with the kids before bed time so they understand the weight of their friends’ offer and we can link it in their minds to biblical principles and because everything is a teaching moment even if school isn’t strictly at home anymore.

It was pretty cute to watch from a distance as they worked together to scrub toilets, wipe counters and cabinets, clean baseboards, and sweep and mop each bathroom together. I was proud of them for doing each bathroom together rather than dividing and conquering (as I probably would have done in their shoes) but where is the community in that? The girls did the same thing while pulling weeds together and cleaning up toys from the lawn.

I'm Getting Real With You

I’m about to get #reallife on you all here. I’m forgetting all grammar conventions and just going to tell you straight! If you take the time to read all this, thanks! If you haven’t got the time just take away that life gets dirty sometimes, and messy, and exhausting, but it’s still all worth it!

It’s 2 am I’m sleeping peacefully in my bed. Kabaam!
...Oh my god my hip what the heck… I reach down, M!
“Get off of me!” I grumble.
“But I had a bad dream” she shouts back.
“Get off you hurt me! I’ve told you don’t jump into our bed like that. You could have hurt Baby Z. Get off!”
“No” She slams her head down on my thigh.
I shake her off and get up and pace the room trying to walk the pain off. I take a deep breath to calm down.
“M get out of my bed, you know you can’t sleep in there while I’m pregnant. Sleep on the floor bed here.” I point to the mini bed made up on the floor for just such an occasion as this. “You may NOT sleep in our bed tonight young lady.” I stress my point and head to the bathroom.

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Stare Down The Waves

The day you nearly drown

Dear J,

Dear J,

Today at church we sang a song and one of the lines was "I'll stare down the waves because you own the tide" and it brought me to tears thinking of you. A year ago you had a near drowning experience in the waves that had us rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. You were awake, but unresponsive for nearly 45 minutes, then suddenly and without any warning you 'came back to us' and started singing UpTown Funk to the EMT. I still don't know what happened that day in the waves, why you suddenly passed out, why you were 'gone' for so long, or why you just as quickly you returned to us. This year when we went back to the beach I didn't know how you would handle the waves after that experience still fresh in your head, but you happily danced and played and kicked at the waves swimming way far out with dad and Grandpa without any fear.

Your name, as I'm sure you are tired of us telling you, means Praise the face of God, my how you have taught me to do just that even when I don't have the answers to the tough questions, even when my faith feels like it will break like it did that day on the beach a year ago as I held your limp body in my arms. You, my sweet and wonderful boy, surely do stare down the waves bringing praise to God because you know He owns the tide. I love you, I love the praise you bring to our family, I love your bold faith when you pray. I'm glad dad and I get the honor of raising you.

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I overcame my anger and you can too


I sat in a circle of women at a Christmas party for the ladies or our church at the time. I had been asked to speak beforehand and share about what God was doing in my life, I’m not the biggest fan of speaking in front of a large group of people but in this instance, I was particularly apprehensive. You see what I had to say wasn’t going to be all peaches and roses. I was going to have to confess that I was empty and frustrated and tired. I couldn’t feel God, I was wasn’t doubting Him, but I didn’t really want to spend time with Him either.

I had debated saying something cheerful, after all, I had 4 wonderful children and Jason’s new business venture was flourishing, I could have easily said life was good. I knew at least two of the women in the circle would see through my BS though and probably call me out on it, so I figured going straight for the truth seemed to be the path of least resistance.

It was my turn and I tried to hold back the tears I knew would come. I confessed I was tired, so completely tired. Our 4th baby was 10 months old and still very colicky. He didn’t sleep through the night, not even close. He cried most of the day long and wouldn’t nap. He hated the car seat and would cry until he couldn’t breathe so taking a drive to get him to nap wasn’t an option. I was trying to homeschool our 2 oldest children, and the poor 3rd child just wanted attention.

I cried because, through all this chaos, I hadn’t even been able to pray. I didn’t think God would answer my prayers. As a child, I had prayed regularly and often well past an hour in length. I had always thought prayer was a gift of mine, but suddenly I was unable to pray.

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