I cut his hair. This man I call dad. My hero. Handsome. Fun. Handy. Now ordered and known intimately by the memory thief. He cracks a few jokes. We visit. It's time to go. I can feel the lump. The elevator; a mind of it's own today. My brother and I stand and wait. It's the leaving. I head to my car. I call my farmer. I can barely talk. I list off the "not right's" and the pain of the past 27 months. All the losses. So many. It clouds my ... View Post
Umm. . .Our Plans Are Not Going According to What We Thought. . . . Now What?
She's sad. Things are not working out how we expected. And it's hard. What do you do when you've prayed; done the right things. And the answer is no? What do you do when you think this is a plan. And the door. . . closes. Shut. Time is of the essence. Yet, what is time in Christ? We cry. I try to pray. I have no words. Because when your child hurts, often there is no room for words. I know this is more in the lessons of trust. I tell my first born girl this. I dig ... View Post
Dear Elijah
I must confess, in the mornings when I wake. . . you're the first thing I think about. Sometimes even before I give the day over to Lord; you're the first thing on my mind. Years of cultivating a habit of first thoughts to the Lord. . .now changed. Mostly the thoughts are combined. Stepping into Praise before my feet hit the floor. Grief. Wrapped in a package with a bow that threatens to choke out my faith. A journey each day that takes effort. Much effort. A struggle. How do I praise the Lord when my heart ... View Post
I Said, “Yes” To Writing On The Walls
I said it sort of jokingly. I didn't think anything of it. We could write our gratitude on the wall. We are going to paint in here someday. (It hasn't been painted since 1989. . ."ain't nobody got time for that") The walls are filthy and stained with hand prints. Drawings from the kids and those infamous height marks. A legacy of Elijah on the wall. A tangible record of his exsistance here. A reminder. So, we clean up from physical nourishment and the Ancient Word. My farmer hesitates before he leaves. It is not until ... View Post
Will Spring Ever Come?
My farmer and the crew work outside everyday. Sure they can head into the milk house to get warm. Sometimes they work in a tractor that has a cab. Not sure if there is heat in there anymore. But mainly they are out doors. So, I hesitate as I choose my words; Will Spring ever come? The days are getting longer. Light in the early evenings. Yet, the cold lingers. I am not one to be cold. My internal system has always run on the warm side. But this year. . . This year, I can not get warm. And it ... View Post
Stepping Through The Plan I Do Not Understand
I will go to the funeral of a dear friend today. It is also the 19th month Anniversary of our sons home going. With many of the same people, we will celebrate the life of one lived so very well. Through song and prayer we will lift our voices to the heavens. We will remember. Why does the pain of this life become overwhelming? I feel some days that grief is all I know. As my dad succumbs to the memory thief and we need to make decisions about his care my heart feels so weighted. This life ... View Post
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