Today we celebrate. Though that term looks different these days. We are going to celebrate. Last year the celebration hard. The effects of chemo and radiation wreaking havoc. The joy thief taking all. So, today we are going to celebrate my farmer. We will celebrate his last year in this decade. We will step into gratitude as we look back over the past year. A year with no chemo or radiation. Strength gained each day. The joy thief held at bay. James 1:2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face ... View Post
Whom Shall I Fear?
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
When You’re Behind Before the Day Begins (A re-post)
Between feeling behind and working hard to choose joy, I was reminded of this post from last year. I was filling a bag a day. Everything we do matters. Each activity is holy in and of itself. May your day rest in this glory of knowing your work is holy. ------------------------------------------------------------ March 18, 2014 When You're Behind Before the Day Begins The dishwasher hums because I forgot to start it last night. The washing machine whirls because for some reason it stopped full of water. Sometimes our water pressure isn't ... 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
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