Do the next thing. That is what everyone says to do. But right now I don't know what that next thing is. People ask what we need. I don't know what that need is. My mind swirls with family memories. Memories of the last hours of being with Elijah. Wishing he hadn't gone out. Wishing God had intervened. . .and turned the wheel back on the road. My heart and soul hurt. My eyes blink tears constantly. I went for a walk yesterday. I went to the barn. I wanted to be with Gary. We fell in love at the barn. Hours of talking and being ... View Post
Deep Agony
To lose a child is not right. At the funeral Glenn shouted, "It's Not Fair" Today I echo that same feeling. It is not fair. I want my boy back. I want all my babies in the nest. "The sun comes up, it's a new day dawning, It's time to sing your song again." -Matt Redman I don't know the tune to this new song. It's rhythm, unfamiliar. I long to turn back time. I yearn for one more minute; For something to be different. But it is not. And the beat of time marches on. And with that time: I will lift up my eyes to the ... View Post
Doing the Hard Thing
I didn't have to go. And the first time I didn't. But this time was different. There was a need to go. I wanted to see the car. There were things in it that I wanted to collect. But mostly I just wanted to see . . . to know. What exactly I was looking for, I do not know? Some evidence of Elijah. Something someone had missed. Some clue as to how he had spent his final moments on this earth. And once again, I found myself wrapped in peace. And I know it is the power of all those praying. This morning is harder. The ache ... View Post
Sweet Peace
Sweet Peace God has given me a gift in the midst of all this tragedy. Sleep. Each night I have been able to sleep. This is a gift and I know it. I am grateful for it. But it is the morning that is agony. It seems so unreal. I want to hear his voice. I want to hear his steps on the porch after chores, knowing he is waiting for something to eat! I want to make batches and batches of cookies for him. I want to feel his hug. Rub the stubble of his hair. And hold his big hands. I want to yell at him for leaving his clothes ... View Post
The Morning After
It's the morning after. . . The quiet echos. I walk out to see the sunrise. I went barefoot because I needed to feel something. The coolness of the grass on my feet was relief. Here is where everything I have ever known has forever been altered. I will not set 7 plates at the table. . . But I will turn and know that my redeemer lives. And I will lift my hands to the songs of praise that are etched in my heart of years of singing. And will I trust each step of the way. Each moment. And we know we are ... View Post
How a community grieves
We had visitors again. This time they received an open invitation. They didn't have to come. It was just an offering. But come they did. Young, old, students. friends, teachers, some whom we had never met, relatives. They came. Broken, shattered with grief. When a community mourns. You don't feel alone. For moments you're so supported. We did not see this . We had no idea how long people were waiting. . Waiting to hold us and whisper love into our hearts. I didn't want the day to end. I knew what it meant. I ... View Post