Our Perspective is Everything

I wake to a head ache. 

The dull, throbbing kind.  

It's time for milking. 

My farmer brings me an Advil. 

I fall back to sleep. 

When I wake again it is to moon beams streaming into the room. 

I glance out the window. 

The view breath taking. 

The moon; full, bright. 

Illuminating. 

I lay there for a moment. 

Those first few moments of waking are always difficult. 

I purposefully change my thoughts. 

2 Corinthians 10:5

We demolish arguments 

and every pretension that sets itself up against 

the knowledge of God, 

and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.

Each morning. 

I reach for truth.

The promises given. 

The hope available. 

The moon beckons. 

It draws me to gratitude. 

I step out of bed. 

It's freezing cold.

I quickly head to the kitchen. 

The smell of coffee permeates the air. 

I turn on the stove. 

It is just as cold out here. 

I continue to shift my perspective. 

My friends this is work. 

It is hard. 

It can be done. 

Moment by moment. 

Gracious living. 

The warmth of the fire begins to break through the chill. 

Chickens need to be fed. 

We need to get ready to leave. 

It's time for the college girl to continue her studies. 

Oh, how I have enjoyed her home. 

Her infectious laugh. 

The feisty personality. 

This part of parenting is the hardest part for me. 

I want all my chicks in the nest. 

I love them here. 

Each one part of the fabric that makes this family who they are. 

Time changes those moments, though. 

What once was,

is no more but a memory. 

The here, is now. 

And what is to be, is not yet; 

full of hope and wonder. 

It is these things that propel my walk today. 

What once was a trip to Haiti,

 is now forming and shaping the what is to be. 

These are the thoughts I cling to as we prepare to head out the door. 

There is a plan, set in motion before the dawn of time. 

We are a people not without hope. 

Each day a journey guided by the Master. 

Clinging to the Ancient Word. 

I don't have this. 

I am too broken and unstable to "have this". 

But God does. 

As the day begins to dawn I am almost ready. 

Not quite. 

But almost. 

I warm my clothes by the fire. 

I reach for more than grief. 

I cultivate a heart aligned with the One who longs to guide my steps. 

It's time to start the car. 

More than 8 hours with my farmer. 

Such a rare and beautiful gift. 

Part of that with the college girl. 

It will be a treat. 

Time together always is. 

Ecclesiastes 3:1

There is a time for everything, 

and a season for every activity under the heavens:

He Held All These Moments First

There are no Christmas decorations. 

Actually there is no one home. 

I do not have my key, because it is still on the key chain that I can hardly bear to look at. 

So different from the years gone by. 

There are leaves all over the driveway and yard. 

More signs of change.

Dad always kept his yard free of leaves and such. 

It's almost too much to bear.

The heaviness and magnitude of all that is gone weighs me down. 

Each step towards the door; agonizing. 

I notice everything out of place. 

I see what's been moved. 

New pictures on the wall. 

I stand in the door way. 

I breathe deep. 

I question why I have come here. 

What am I doing here? 

But no matter where I go. . . there is loss. 

At home it's Elijah. Here it is mom. 

And the seven months that separate their loss wraps around my heart. 

This walk is hard. 

It takes all I am to step forward. 

To step into Hope. 

To set my mind above. 

I dig. 

I reach deep to the truths that I know. 

To the well worn path. 

I can not change the circumstances.
I turn to the memories for their warmth. 
Interesting, they don't sting so much. 
Mom's chair;

brings images of her sitting with her coffee,
laughing or telling a story. 
Looking at pictures. 
Oh, how she loved her pictures. 
A wall in the office, covered with all those she held dear. 
Family, friends. 
She never met a stranger. 
I can see her planning our day out. 
Lunch, shopping. 
Always shopping. 
Me who abhors shopping, loved it with her. 
She loved to shop. 
I hover in the memories. 
I walk around the house. 
I thank God for the gift of family. 
Once again the ache slowly gives way. 
The God of the Universe Can handle all my pain. 
He will guide our hearts each moment. 
His love for us is everlasting. 
May you anticipate that love this Advent Season. 

Expect great things. 

Isaiah 43:19
See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? 
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.


He will make a way. 
For me; for you.
Wonderful truths that God will share. 
In spite of the hurt. 
In the middle of the darkness. 
He will shine. 

Living in these precious moments. 
They are fleeting. 
But they are beautiful. 
Because God held them first. 

PSalm 102:11-12
My days are like the evening shadow; I wither away like grass.
But you, LORD, sit enthroned forever; 
your renown endures through all generations.

MercyMe
The Hurt and the Healer

So here I am 
What's left of Me
Where Glory meets my suffering

A Letter To God

So much of my daily journey takes me back to last year. How I felt. So much I do not remember. So much is still stuck vividly in my mind. This post echoes the cry of my heart. This week I have felt weary and worn. But we are holding on. Clinging to the rock that is higher than I. 

Dear God,
     I find myself in a deep place today. My first thoughts are usually to bring praise and Glory to your name. It is the habit established for more than 20 years now. My first thoughts when my eyes flutter open are to praise you. . .no matter how I feel. Today. . .I opened my eyes and pushed through the raw grief; the weight that threatens to engulf. I look for you. It is rainy and dark out. I know this day will be a struggle. I cry for this all to not be. I am weary and worn.

         There are so many holding us up and we are so grateful for that. But some days are just going to be hard. And I look to you God. And I remember your  promises.

  Matthew 11:28-30 

Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, 

and I will give you rest. "Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, 

for I am gentle and humble in heart; and you shall find rest for your souls. 

"For My yoke is easy, and My load is light."

     So, I am laying my burdens down. I give you all my tears and sorrows because this burden is too much to carry. . .the weight is crushing. You have laid me bare with the loss of my flesh and blood. The child from my womb. Yet, I know from the beginning of creation you had numbered his days. 

Psalm 139:16 

Your eyes saw my unformed body;

 all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

    So take me LORD. Mold me into the vessel you need me to be. Smooth my rough edges. Help me to be more like you in all I do. I am tired and I am weary. My soul cries for your comfort. 

Isaiah 40:29

He gives strength to the weary, And to him who lacks might, He increases power.

I am worn. . .Let me know the struggle ends.  . .
that you can mend a heart that's frail and torn. 

Stepping Right Out Of Fear

The rains come. 

The earth eager for nourishment. 

The sound triggers memories. 

All senses alert. 

These are the pre-death days. 

Each moment so vivid. 

Such technicolor. 

Each night I fight against the jagged thoughts. 

The waking from sleep. 

The flashlights playing on my window. 

The knocking on the door. 

The deep dark. 

Knowing something is not right. 

The air conditioner. 

Off. 

No lights. 

It all threatens to tear at me. 

Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. 
I will strengthen you and help you; 
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

The fear needs to flee.
My walk steady.
The day dawns and the night a memory.
The tasks for the day before me.
Hope of conquering the day.
Trying to not give way to sadness.
I pick up his room.
The smell of him still evident.
My fear; it will fade.
What will I have left.
The child I bore and raised, no longer part of this earth.
We are forced to step forward without him.
No matter how many words I tap out.
It will remain the same.
The one constant I want to change; the one thing I long for to be different.
There is no fear. 
Perfect love casts out fear.

I John 4:18
There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear

Carefully guided steps to the place where fear is surrendered.
I gather what I need to from his room.
I have said goodnight to all the other kids.
I get halfway down and holler good night; I love you.
They each respond. 
But one. 
And that is the way it will be.
I continue down the stairs to the rest the night will offer.
I know there will be no fear.
And I know there will be strength.

Isaiah 46:4
even to your old age I am he,
    and to gray hairs I will carry you.
I have made, and I will bear;
    I will carry and will save.

I was chosen to carry you Elijah.
It was an honor and a great privilege to be your mom.
For me, it was such a short time.
But there is another story here.
And long before you were born I gave up all I am to follow Christ;
 to live a life guided by the One who calls us into being. 
Who calls us by name.
And He loves us far beyond our earthly minds can grasp.
His sacrifice complete for me; for you.
It is now with Him you dwell.
And oh what joy you are experiencing.
His promises fulfilled.
I will Praise that One with all my being.

How Far Can Your Love Reach?

Water spews from the line. 

Like a geyser. 

A hole.

Probably the size of a pin. 

Undetectable. 

Unless water flows. 

The droplets cascading in an arc. 

Grass glistening. 

I stare at the beauty. 

I haven't traveled. 

My Old Faithful is this phenomenon on the flats.

The water line that brings nourishment to our girls. 

A necessity to make milk.

Some girls drinking close to 40 gallons a day. 

So much work. 

Yet so much beauty. 

I pull myself from the daze. 

I want to always see the beauty around. 

I don't ever want to forget.

It's graduation day. 

The ache great and deep. 

I find myself repeating, How has it been a year? 

How can he be gone?

I am still stuck on a beautiful summer day in July. 

If I close my eyes I am there and my world is still the same. 

But the daze is broken and the here and now includes, death, cancer and change. 

But the beauty reminds us of hope and a future. 

God has promised us life. 

I continue to stare for a moment. 

Mesmerized by the shimmering droplets. 

Caught in a sea of memories. 

I notice how far those droplets reach. 

Spraying high and far. 

Just a tiny, tiny hole.

Regardless of our broken hearts or the troubles in our path; 

I want to shine God's love like that geyser.

Far and wide. 

With many offshoots.

Everywhere a trickle. 

Ephesians 3:20

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, 

according to his power that is at work within us,

Behold, He Comes

The video plays. 

The tears come. 

The ache deep within.

Oh how I miss him. 

I listen to the drums. 

His style soft and enjoyable. 

The song plays. 

Behold He Comes. 

He would come. He would take my first born.
And He would come again and take my second born. 

In the early hours of the morning. 

He would come.
My farmer and I talk.
Sometimes we feel like we're just living, waiting for Christ to return.
We're so done with being here. . . on this earth. 
The pain excruciating.
Everything feeling out of whack.
Is this how all parents who have lost a child feel?
There were 17 years of memories.
Such a pinnacle year.
Graduation.
Celebrations.
Everything about the year in technicolor. 
Everything this year. . . reminding us of last year.
Lacrosse games.
Concerts.
Senior activities.
Memories.
Searing pain.
Stepping forward whether we want to or not.
Finding solid ground.
Digging through the fog.
Resting in hope. 
The sun plays on the mountain tonight.
It's splash of color; fall like.
The clouds; moving shadows.
There is wonder in the glory of creation.
The wonder we need to keep. 
Eyes wide open to see.
Palms lifted up to receive.
It is He who does the giving.
He who mends the broken pieces.
We are changing.
He loves us enough to not leave us where we were.
The deep soul ache, held is His hands.
Reaching for the beauty still to come.
Because, Behold He comes. 
He is coming again.
Riding on a cloud. At the trumpet sound. 
Oh that glorious day.
Are you ready?
Is your soul at peace, no matter the turmoil?
Real, rock solid peace?
No doubts.
He's coming. 

Even In the Storm. . . There Is A Promise

The rain falls.

Heavy at times. 

Keeping rhythm on the tin roof. 

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

The beat of a drum. Constant and steady.

A sound I miss dreadfully. 

The missing heavy. 

Deep within; the longing. 

I shut my eyes to listen. 

To the sounds. 

Grief sneaks up silently.
Catches you unaware.
It is all around.

It is rent a Senior Day.
How can it be a year?
It seems like yesterday.

So funny.
So missed.
There is no way around this pain.
It hurts. 
It stinks. 
No matter how I try to shake off the pain.
We step forward.
Trusting, resting, remembering.
Breathing deep.
Knowing the far reaching love of a Savior.

Looking forward to the pictures from today's Rent a Senior.
Hoping fun and joy for all.

The rain continues to fall.
The earth eager for nourishment.
Fields aglow with the greens.
The farmer sends me a picture.

A promise. A reminder.
A covenant made.
A full rainbow.
Stretching right over this farmscape.
It can all fall away and we will still Praise the Living God.
We will cling to hope.

Psalm 43:5
Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again--my Savior and my God!



Natalie Grant
This is what it means to be held. . . 
How it feels when the sacred is torn from life and you survive.
This is what it is to be loved and to know that 
the promises was when everything fell we'd be held.

Turning Around Another First

A year of firsts that leave you undone. 

Reminders of all you have lost. 

Days when you shut the door to your heart because you absolutely can not feel anymore. 

You push hard, so you can breathe. 

Each breath measured so the next one will come. 

Bearing the weight that threatens to crush. 

Holding on with all you have; to promises made long before time began. 

Jeremiah 31:3

The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying: "I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.

It's prom. 

A thoughtful request for her to attend.

And it's going to be beautiful. 

Her dress bought. 

Nails done. 

Plans made. 

Yet, I can't help but remember. 

The memory still strong. 

The future looming. 

All the excitement.

The magic of the time. 

He was late as usual. 

Last minute. 

Hurrying around. 

The house was in an uproar. 

Shoes.

Tux. 

Bow tie. 

It all had to be just right. 

He was that way.

There were places he needed to be. 

A time schedule he wished wasn't there. 

But he stopped. 

For me.

He didn't have to. But he did. 

And this is how we remember him. 

The picture most all of you have. 

Time marches on. 

And it is prom again. 

I will cook. 

I will look around the room.

I will breathe deep the memories gone by. 

The memories yet to be. 

I will step into gratitude for 17 years. 

For the beautiful picture. 

Though I sway with the enormity of the loss. 

I face the journey Christ has called us to with the strength that only He can provide. 

Isaiah 58:11
The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.

Happy Birthday Mom

It's my mom's birthday. 

She would have been 71. 

Her birthday so near Mother's Day. 

I would always send her flowers for Mother's Day and a present for her birthday. 

I remember her last Mother's Day. 

The woman asked me what I wanted to say on the card. 

I must have known in my spirit that this would be my last with her. 

I couldn't say anything. 

I just started to cry. 

The poor sales lady. 

There's not enough room on a card to say all I had wanted. 

In the end I said, "Thank you". 

I had told her how I felt through the years. 

There were no regrets. 

She knew I loved her. 

It's hard to believe this is her second birthday with the King of Kings. 

Elijah will celebrate with her. 

I can't put into words how this feels. 

There is joy knowing they are together for all eternity; 

yet deep heartache at missing them. 

Mom loved birthdays. 

She made such a big deal. 

She would get up early and sing, rubbing butter on our noses to wake us up. 

I have no idea where or why that tradition. 

It is NOT one I have continued. 

She loved parties and reasons to celebrate. 

She found the good in things. 

The joy deep and overflowing. 

Isaiah 55:12

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,

 and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.

She loved life. 

She loved her Lord. 

She served him faithfully. 

Her positive attitude contagious. 

Even when the clutches of death hovered over her. 

I miss her dearly. 

It's hard to think about. 

So much loss in such a short amount of time. 

I have to portion out the pain.

But I have the deep assurance of seeing her again. 

I long for that reunion. 

We will sing Happy Birthday to her today. 

It is also a dear friends 60th. 

She too in a battle against cancer. 

I was able to send her a note celebrating years of a friendship. 

Find the time today to celebrate someone. 

Remind them of God's love. 

Share with them the joy they bring to your life. 

Pushing through with joy today. 

Romans 15:13

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, 

so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

I Still Don't Have Eyes To See; I Miss So Much

Once again I missed it.

 Someone else brought to my attention the obvious. 

How God has used his creation to show his heart.

 Literally. 

I missed it the morning Elijah stepped into Eternity. 

The heaven's declared their majesty in the shape of  a heart.

Psalm 19:1 

The heavens declare the glory of God; 

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

I missed the heart.

 But I caught the colorful display in a picture. 

It wasn't until later that someone pointed out the heart. .

So, I missed it again. 

In a picture. 

God used his creation to share another heart. 

A reminder of his infinite love. 

His desperate pursuit of us. 

A heart. 

A symbol of love. 

Jeremiah 31:3

The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying: 

"I have loved you with an everlasting love; 

I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.

He uses the details of this life to remind us of his Glory. 

He is the everlasting. 

It is only in Him I find my strength. 

It is a daily letting go. 

Reaching towards the "what I know".

When the weight is heavy and the future seems devoid of hope; 

let the praises start to flow. 

God inhabits the praises of his people. 

Psalm 22:3

Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel.

May my eyes continue to be opened to the blessings He pours out. 

In the Protestant tradition we often us a doxology to offer praise as the end of a service or gathering. 

We sang it on Elijah's first birthday in heaven. 

A reminder to step out into praise. 

It is a conscious act for me. A deliberate choice. 

So is seeking God's majesty in His creation. 

Offer a sacrifice of praise; when your heart is anywhere but there. 

Offer it anyway. 

Grab a warm cup of something. 

Find a quiet space and listen to this Doxology. 

Offer the praise. 

Psalm 116:17

I will sacrifice a thank offering to you and call on the name of the LORD

Praise God  from whom all blessings flow.

Praise Him all creatures here below. 

Praise Him above Ye Heavenly Host. 

Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost. 

A Broken Pot (Yes Very Cracked) But Not Beyond Repair

The thoughtless words come spewing out. 

I am angry. 

My anger is directed at no one in particular.
The tender soul of the blue eyed girl receives the brunt. 

I feel out of sorts. And lashing out is my first reaction. 

Those words can not be taken back. 

No matter how deeply I ask for forgiveness. 

They came out.

I Corinthians 13:4-6
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

They were in my sin ladened heart. 

It's the forgiveness I sought. 

But it wasn't forth coming. 

She was hurt. 

And my words; the one's asking for forgiveness meant nothing. 

The others were piercing and that's what she's thinking.
How we need to watch our words. 

Proverbs 16:24
Gracious words are a honeycomb, 
sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.

Words that can encourage and breathe life.
Not painful, hurtful, biting remarks.

Psalm 119:103
How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!

My heart constricts at her coldness.
I offended my sweet daughter and I feel awful.
She unwilling to forgive.
We both have lessons to learn.
Raw emotions leave us open for hurt.
Unwilling to let go.
I gaze into those baby blue eyes brimming with tears.
How could I let the words fly?
How could I hurt this tender soul?
Sometimes I just want off of this spinning journey we call life.
I can't seem to do it right.
The stress of the day and the tierney of the urgent reek havoc with my sense of calm.
So when I blow, it's a mess.
These are the moments Jesus shows up.
He reminds us of our sin and brokenness.
 He also reminds us of how much we have been forgiven.
Because we aren't always going to get it right.
We aren't always going to say the right thing.
But we are a forgiven people.
God in his mercy extended grace.
I will not always be forgiven by my children.
I will not always get it right.
But I will always be loved and cherished by the One who created me.
I am a work in progress.
A broken pot. (Yes very cracked)
But not beyond repair.
Jesus longs to reach down and fix it all.
At the end of the day. When the exhaustion has taken over and the mist of sleep is heavy.
I whisper to the blue eyed child again.
I am sorry. So sorry. 
She reaches up, gazes into my eyes, and hugs me tight.

Colossians 3:13
Bear with each other and forgive one another 
if any of you has a grievance against someone. 
Forgive as the Lord forgave you.

When You Have More Questions Than Answers

My son is on the field playing. 

It is his first game.

It is my younger son. Now a High Schooler. 

I have sat in these bleachers for 4 years watching. 

The memories are overwhelming. 

These are new days. A new team. 

A friend joins me. 

Her sons gone to college. Mine to heaven. 

She sits with us. 

To remember. 

To help me through this day. 

While I sit in the sun; missing Elijah. 

Cheering Cedric. 

I receive a text.

It is a text I don't want to read. 

You see last Fall, we were blessed. 

A man with a desire to serve. 

A heart full of love. 

He came and he gave. 

He hugged us.

He breathed life into us. 

He organized. 

He made sure we had wood. 

He was relentless in his commitment and urgency filled with grace.

His energy contagious.

His hugs and words uplifting.

A gleam in his eyes reflecting the joy of the risen Lord.

We did not have to worry all winter. There was plenty. 

Before there was cancer. 

Before we knew the depth of the cold that would not let go.

Wood was not a worry. 

When the effects of chemo and radiation raged; 

there was only the task of filling the boilers. 

No endless trips to the woods.

There was grace. A gift.

 Heaven blessed.

We were warm. 

On the coldest of days. 

Gratitude poured from my heart with each passing day. 

All throughout the winter.

Gratitiude. Each day. 

Such a gift. 

One man's passion. 

One man's gift. 

How a community serves. 

As Winter gives way to Spring;

He is at it again. 

The passion intense. 

A focus, a desire to meet a need. To help relieve my farmers load.

To help restore his joy.

But the text tells me a different story. 

This man with the passion.  

This man with a heart of gold. 

Has now entered heaven's gates.

His residence with the King of Kings. 

And just for a moment. 

Again. 

My world stops turning.  

I am shocked.

And I struggle. 

Why God? 

I have so many questions.

Guilt slides in like the slithery snake it is.

My heart weighs heavy. 

A heart that is already fragile. 

This encouraging, Godly man.

Who loved coffee. Who loved his family so dearly.

Reaching out to serve. 

Called home. 

In the blink of an eye. 

None of this caught God off guard. 

None of this.

Psalm 139:16

Your eyes saw my unformed body; 

all the days ordained for me were written in your 

book before one of them came to be.

There is joy in the home going. 

We rejoice in Elijah's place with our Savior.

We rejoice over Carl's presence in Glory. 

But oh, how our hearts ache. 

How the questions fill my being. 

Thank you Carl, for your gift. 

Thank you for an undying commitment to that which you believed and loved. 

I am sure, that as God ushered you through those gates.

You my friend, heard those precious words. 

"Well done, good and faithful servant."

Hebrews 12:1

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, 

let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.

 And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us,