Sunshine Spilled Over

Sunshine spilled over on Resurrection Sunday. 

Warmth. 

Family. 

Food.

The empty tomb. 

The Cross set before us. 

A symbol. 

Hope. 

What was meant for evil. 

God meant for good. 

Sometimes you can't help but embrace the bad to understand the good. 

2 years and 8 months. 

 A journey to walk with purpose.

Seeking to discover, under the shadow of His wing. 

Ever longing for all to be made right. 

The tomb is empty. 

The Savior Risen. 

The hope of all Nations for a broken people. 

The sun beats down on us at my sister in laws. 

Her family walking the grief road. 

The first Easter without my nephew. 

The children without their father. 

Reaching out in hope. 

Stepping into the unknown. 

We sit together. 

Grateful. 

For each other. 

Laughing. 

Remembering. 

Life springing forth in the gardens that were my mother in laws. 

Precious bulbs pressing through the depth of the dark. 

Reaching for light. 

Reminders of the beauty in the struggle. 

When we are anchored to the Rock. 

Psalm 18:2

The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

It's been a great weekend of celebration on the farm. 

My farmers 60th. 

A gathering of family and friends. 

A shower of cards. 

Easter Sunday. 

Celebrated around the rich gathering of generations.

The birds have begun their joyous chorus this morning. 

Signs of Spring; seen if you look. 

Do you have eyes to see? 

I am asking God to keep my eyes wide open to 

not miss the beauty He has in store. 

 Resting in the hope given to us. 

I miss my son with all my being. 

The ache so deep.

Yet I believe God is working a purpose greater than I understand. 

I pray that you have eyes to see the glory that God is unfolding. 

I pray that you walk with hope; even when the way is rough. 

Walking today in deep hope, while clinging to the Rock. 

What about you? 

How To Be Open And Ready

It's going to be hot. 

But there is a threat of rain. 

It amazes me how quickly our weather can change. 

The day will begin gorgeous and turn to torrents of rain in a moment. 

That volatility is what I feel with my emotions. 

Some days I am strong. 

I can make it through. 

I breathe deep and I can feel the power of the Holy Spirit giving strength. 

Other days I am consumed with a deep stabbing ache. 

Grief is hard work. 

Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. 

Our country;  the church, have done a shameful thing in rushing those who grieve. 

People don't know how to deal with our raw emotions.
They do not want to talk about it.
They think we should be "over it" by now.
People have told me they are uncomfortable.
Between my mom, Elijah and cancer, they don't know what to say.
Most of the time words are not needed.
Just reminding us we are not alone is a good place to start.
Showing up and working through the tough times.
That's what is needed.
God understands the direction our paths need to take.
We need to be open and ready.
The rain came and renewed the earth.
You could feel the cool air.
There is a quietness after a heavy rain.

I walk out to the fence line.
The rain enhances the colors.
The greens are so vibrant.
The sparkle in the water droplets mesmerizing.
I breathe deep.
I look around.
I walked out here the morning after Elijah's funeral.
I walked barefoot. 
I just wanted to feel. 
So raw.
I stand here today; almost a year later.
I still don't know what the future holds.
I feel more unsure of things than I ever have.
Except for this.
I know that we are held. 
There is a plan.
A hope so sure; solid ground even when it feels like there is none.

2 Timothy 4:7-8
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day--and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.

All In The Same Moment

This time last year we had been in Maine. 

We came home. 

It was so quiet. 

 No white tornado puppy to great us. 

I had been thinking about our home going and what it would be like. 

How quickly my son would experience that journey. 

Each step of every day draws me closer to the anniversary of the day. 

We attended a Birthday for a sweet One year old. 

We sang Happy Birthday and she opened her presents. 

On the TV ran photos of my children when they were little. 

Pictures of Elijah. 

His blue eyes sparkling. 

The kids so little. 

How quickly it all went. 

It seems like yesterday, my kids were the ones celebrating their first birthdays. 

Now I am about to recognize the first Anniversary of my sons death. 

It's wrong. 

So very wrong. 

I feel like I have been in a bubble this past year. 

Between the deaths and the cancer something has been askew. 

There has been one constant that has been right. 

Each moment held by grace. 

Wrapped in love. 

Feet planted firmly. 

My go to place.

The solid rock.

Psalm 18:31

For who is God besides the LORD?

 And who is the Rock except our God?

My faith in Jesus Christ. 

If you have children. 

Slow down. 

Love more. 

Laugh at inappropriate times. 

Take yourself a little less seriously. 

Talk about God. 

A lot. 

Teach your children to pray. 

To love; with every act. 

To be respectful. 

Go to church. 

Live in a Community that knows your name.
And even if they don't, they will still love on you. 

Find ways to be creative. 

Say I love you. 

All the time. 

Even when you don't feel like it. 

Trust God. 

Breathe deeply. 

Always kiss them good bye when they leave. 

Always.

Hold tight; yet let them spread their wings and fly. 

All in the same moment. 

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.

We Yield, He Works, We Rest

Do you stumble out of bed? 

Is there a longing to pull the sheets over your head and wish the day would go away? 

I do. 

The desire to sink into quiet, no schedules, sleep past 5:30, rise to greet me. 

I always feel the need to be moving. 

I have to be accomplishing something. 

Yet somehow I feel as if nothing is ever done. 

I am just treading water. 

I stare into the fog this morning wanting to roll over and just shut it all out. 

I don't want to feel, or work through the day. 

I have an early morning meeting, the kids school to do, laundry, book work, a never ending list. 

We need to be in town for a port-flush for Gary and then back out to get ready for a cello recital. 

There is hay down.

Everyone wants to head in a different direction. 

Once, I excelled at these varying schedules. 

They energized me. 

Now they drag me down. 

My soul longs for quiet; peace. 

I realize a little too late; I have stepped off that gentle walk with God. 

The walk that allows you to step quietly while all rages around you. 

No matter the schedule, the chaos, the laundry, the bills. 

The walk sweet and soft. 

So, I am re-grouping a little this morning. 

It's a busy weekend. 

A strategy change. 

I will step into that gentle walk with God. 

Where all can rage, but the center will be peace. 

He has ordered these days. 

They are beautiful. 

It is He, that does the work in us. 

We yield. 

He works. 

We rest. 

Philippians 1:6

being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you 

will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

Delight In His Sabbath

Isaiah 41:10

Don't be afraid, for I am with you. Don't be discouraged, for I am your God. 
I will strengthen you and help you. 
I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.

Words I cling to. 

Hope I claim. 

It is Sunday morning again. 

A morning for me that will always remain hard.

The conflict of loss; the gift of the Sabbath. 
Yet isn't the gift of Sabbath because of death?
One for all.
So there might be life?
Everlasting?
He gave all so we could all have. 
The goal of Sabbath; rest.
Leaning into Christ and the promise He gave with His life.
New life. 
Shed off all that hinders today.
Look for the rest God offers.
Seek the peace He longs to share.
Open your hands to receive.
Quiet yourself to embrace God's goodness.
Look around with eyes wide open.

His beauty is there.
There is joy beyond measure.
Rest in the Lord.
Delight in His Sabbath.

Isaiah 58:13
"If you keep your feet from breaking the Sabbath and from doing as you please on my holy day,
 if you call the Sabbath a delight and the LORD's holy day honorable,
 and if you honor it by not going your own way and not doing as you please or speaking idle words,
then you will find your joy in the LORD, and I will cause you to ride in triumph on the heights of the land and to feast on the inheritance of your father Jacob." 
The mouth of the LORD has spoken.

"Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing"

We, The People

This road is hard. 

We, the people,  meant for Grace for all time. 

Thrown through the ravages of sin and justified and sanctified by the blood. 

We, the people, destined for all that is holy, yet muck through the waters until He returns. 

The step of some days harder than others. 

Weeping and flailing as if there were no anchor. 

The whole time being held. 

We, the people. 

Each so different. 

Each so needy.

 Each so loved.

 The sun beats down. 

The warmth fills the cold spaces. 

It is a choice to breathe in and out and feel.

This day is hard. 

The abrasive rubs in my soul.

The acrid taste of spewing words. 

We, the people. 

Who have been bought for a price.

Yet forgetting what lies ahead. 

Who goes before us. 

Who stands beside. 

My heart lurches at memories. 

They haunt my every waking move. 

I long for the day they will bring the smiles. Instead of torment. 

I pass by his room and a faint familiar smell permeates the air. 

How can it be?

It jogs a memory of long ago in my parents basement when hefty decisions were on my soul. 

In the depths of prayer and deep thought a waft of sweetness floated by. 

Peaceful and serene.
A calm oh, so sure, settled in to stay. 

No origins of the scent. 

And now the same. 

A reminder from the spirit that He is always there. 

Even in the dark, when the ache is deep.

He is there. 

We, the people.
His people. 

Isaiah 40:31
but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. 
They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, 
they will walk and not be faint.

When You Run On Empty, You Can Ooze All Over. . .

The kitchen is a mess. We have a house guest coming for 3 weeks.
There is no safe way up the stairs and through the hallway with out a navigation system. 

The lawn needs mowing and I haven't taken time for my heart to be still. 

You would think after all these years I wouldn't get off track. 

But I have. 

Mother's Day, cooking, cleaning, church, games. 

All important things. 

But not the things that should matter. 

Finding that still, quiet time to pour over the Ancient Word is so crucial to my being.

And I have filled the space with other things.

My cup runneth empty.
I begin to ooze all over. It is not pretty. 

The college kids are all coming home. 

It is so good to see them. See, most of them left shortly after the accident. 
 She says it on the ball field. 

They're such good kids.

And my heart stops. She says it with such love. 

I knew that feeling. 

I remember it well. 

It was the pride that comes with a son who has graduated;

who is beginning a new season in his life. 

Words can't describe the feeling. 

It is a deep love for your boy. A sense of completion. The future before him. 

And my heart constricts and the tears begin to flow. I turn because I don't want them to see. 

Oh how I miss my boy. How I wish he was coming home from college. 

Getting ready ready for summer plans. 

But this is not to be. 

It's these moments I feel like I may unravel. 

I head home. 

I am not good for anyone. My heart is so heavy. 

I feel worn. 

Tired. 

And the tears flow as if I had never cried before. 

How can one have so many tears?

How do we do this? 

How can life go on when your son is deep in the earth? 

When you long to be a part of the everyday. 

My heart keeps cadence with my children. 

From the moment you know; you know within you there is life. 

From then on you are changed. 

You beat 2 hearts forever more. 

Yours and theirs. Their hurt, their joy. 

Their steps. You walk with them. Willing them to succeed. 

Watching the lessons learned. Some easy. Some painful.
Your presence at the throne of grace is persistent as you intercede for that child. 

And when that life is torn from you; the world stops turning. 

And still months later, the conversation at the field will bring you to your knees.
Because he is not coming home.

And the world is turning. Spinning round and round and he's not here. 

And I claw my way up out of the grief. It threatens to consume me. 

The winter has been brutal. And I am not sure my weary soul can keep pushing along. 

I cry out to God for mercy. For relief from this agony.  

I know He hears my cry. 

I know He will rescue me from this pit. 

For now, I breathe deep.
I let him pour his spirit into my aching soul.

Isaiah 40:31
but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. 
They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary,
 they will walk and not be faint.

I sit down in front of those ivory keys. It is rare I play anymore.
The drums lie silent in the corner and sometimes it's too much.  

I slowly plunk out the melody. "Knowing You " I long for the drums to be playing with me. ""Knowing you, Jesus" I want him here."Knowing you"  This hurt is so raw. "There is no greater thing" God knows my pain. "You're my all, you're the best."  He is all I need. The tears flow. I don't hold back. He is all my focus. "You're my joy, my righteousness. And I love you Lord."
My farm boy walks into the room and wraps me in a bear hug.
He rubs my back.
This man-boy.
Wrestling with the weight of the world.
He too, stepping one moment at a time into grace.
That's what it comes down to. We turn the heartache over to Him.
We breathe in deep the joy of the day.
We plant our feet on the solid rock.
This journey is not easy. 
We will rest in you Jesus.
My hope is in you.
So find rest today my friends. Find the hope that awaits you. 
Fill your cup to the brim.

When the mountains are falling
When the waters are rising
I shall be safe in you. 

A Step At A Time

"Every doing starts with a step."

It's the first thing I read when I get out of bed. 

A tweet from Proverbs 31 ministry. 

I didn't want to get up today. 

Sometimes when I open my eyes the impact hits all over again. 

I usually turn my first thoughts to God. 

At least I try. 

I try to thank Him for the day. 

To begin my day with a Christlike focus. 

Lately it's been about my emotions.

I wallow in what I have lost. I cry out for it to not be. 

This morning when I didn't want to take a step.

Those first words encouraged me. 

"Every doing starts with a step."

Not a final plan. Not all the answers. 

No well executed list or exquisitely planned event. 

Just a step.

Proverbs 16:9

In their hearts humans plan their course, 

but the LORD establishes their steps.

A step towards Gods word. A step toward the laundry. 

This journey continues to be heavy. 

But a step at a time is what is needed to stay the course. 

Photo credit to my talented daughter Clarissa

Psalm 119:105

Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.

One step at a time today toward God's leading. 

Chin Up, Shoulders Straight. . .Advice From My Dad

Chin up

Shoulders straight

 Fly right

My father's advice through the years. 

There were many other colorful pieces of advice he would share that I won't mention here. 

But these. These have stayed with me. 

I don't know where he got this. 

His father died when he was 12. So I am not thinking it was fatherly wisdom. 

My dad is a man of few words. 

(not always appropriate either, insert wink)

Now he is a man who has the memory thief as a constant companion. 

But he spoke these words to me often enough that they have stuck. 

This morning when I was feeling a bit of a pity party coming on; 

when I started down a path that should not be travelled.

 I remembered these words. 

They weren't the comforting Ancient words. 

Or the words of an accomplished theologian. 

They were the words spoken to me, by my father, growing up. 

They were words that show strength in their actions. 

So instead of a pity party. 

Instead of  falling apart like I wanted to;

I put my chin up. 

I pulled those shoulders straight. 

(I am short so anything will help)

And I flew. . . yes, straight to God's word. 

Straight to those Ancient words. 

Because the earthly words reminded me of the eternal words. 

No matter how I try to find any thing else to fill the void, remove the hurt or bring me comfort. 

It is only God's word that brings the peace. 

It is the Holy Spirit falling fresh, over me. 

In the quiet. In the moments of listening. 

While we miss Elijah. 

While we wait for tests and results. While we live through this depression. 

I will listen to my earthly dad's mantra and run to my heavenly Father's arms.

Chin up

Shoulders straight

Fly right. . . into your heavenly Father's arms.

Thanks Dad. 

I know you can't be of much help now. 

But your words of years gone by are pushing me forward. 

You are, and will always be my greatest hero. 

Oh, how I wish we could have closed the door to the memory thief. 

Joshua 1:9

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. 

Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged,

 for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."

We Don't Like To Be Uncomfortable. . . But Sometimes Uncomfortable Is Where We Need To Be

They sit in the corner and gather dust. 

Memories on hold. 

The beat stuck for all time. 

I don't know what to do with them. 

Mostly I stand and stare.
While another piece of my heart breaks away.

I remember.

I try to hear the sounds and feel the rhythms to no avail. 

They are silenced. 
It's a new rhythm now.
Set in a key and time change I am not comfortable with.
There are too many accidentals and I stumble over the melody line.
The timbre harsh and abrasive.
Some new friends come to visit. Members of the club no one asks for.
Further along the grieving journey.
Yet, always grieving.
Just not stuck.
The common theme allowing free conversation.
I feel peaceful.
I know Jesus desires us to rest in who He is.
I know He holds our hurt closely.
By being in community with those around us we are spurred to peace.
When we bottle up our pain or hurt, it will seep out somehow.
I didn't talk about the drums.

We shared other pieces of the journey.
We talked through depression and issues where some relief may be given.
Nothing was solved. Nothing was changed. 
Yet, my spirit is lighter this morning.
We need each other. 
God calls us to be in community.
And sometimes that doesn't feel good.
We need to do hard things.
We need to go places that are uncomfortable.

Your neighbor next door may need your help; just as much as the child in Africa.
Do you know? 
Do you know your neighbors?
It takes one small act to reach out.
One batch of cookies. One offer of help when the snow or ice pile high.

I can't change the silent drums.
I can't change the beat.
But I can create a new rhythm.

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.


The melodic structure may be rough at times,
 but with practice;we all can.
Each day. 
It doesn't take much to reach out; and be Jesus to someone.

With every act of love. . . we bring the Kingdom come.
As heaven touches earth. 

Be the door for someone today.

When The Wind Howls, How Will Your Structure Stand?

The temperatures have warmed. 

The wind howls, creating a recipe for an icy landscape. 

With each gust, shutters pull from the house, the tin loosens on the barn's rafters. 

I wonder just how long it will be before they are torn from their structures. 

The constant berating; weakening the structure unless careful attention is taken. 

These needs have been set aside as flooding, death and cancer cry for the immediate. 

The effects of neglect apparent. 

Integrity of structure compromised. 

Sometimes the end doesn't seem in sight. 

It is the big picture that frightens and causes us to recoil. 

Yet somehow as the focus from the big picture shifts to smaller snapshots; 

life becomes more manageable. 

We map out the plan for the day. 

Just today. 

We approach it bathed in prayer, poised for battle and resting in Christ. 

Ephesians 6:10-12

 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.  Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.  For our struggle is not against flesh and blood,but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 

Each day. 

Each step. 

All for the Father. Not for us. 

Redeemed. 

Ransomed.

Restored. 

"I am, holding on to you. I am holding on to you

In the middle of the storm I am holding on 

I Am'"

With Whom do I Wrestle?

My heart is wounded.

I am tired. 

This path is wrought with grief and pain.

The only way out is through. 

One needs to wrestle through the memories.

Through the future that will never be;

snatched away.

I've been robbed. 

Robbed of graduation from Marine Corps Boot Camp, 

robbed of the future of our son. 

And it hurts.

I can't change it. 

No matter the longing, it will never be. 

Yet my wounded heart is held in the palm 

of the hand of the One who created us. 

And as I wrestle each day with the reality of never hearing 

Elijah's voice again, never watching where his future leads. 

I am never, for a moment, outside the grasp of God. 

Psalm 139:10

even there your hand shall lead me,
    and your right hand shall hold me.

I wrestle with the events of the accident. 

Oh how a mama's heart hurts to think about her boy. 

Could God have stopped it?

Did He allow it?

Why me? 

I already have given my heart to Him. 

He didn't need to get my attention. 

He has had it for years.

What was the purpose in this agony?  

These things I will never know this side of eternity.  

I give thanks again for a community that is unrelenting in their love for us. 

For friends that show up when I am a tearful mess. 

For a cousin that listens.

For a friend that sheds tears with me as I pour out my heart to her. 

For God's Word. 

It is comforting.

It is honest.

And it is Truth for a hurting soul.

I can't sort this out. 

I can't make it make sense. 

I don't know who to wrestle with. 

The God of the universe called Elijah home. 

And all the pleading and praying is not going to change it. 

I want to know where to go from here. 

I want to see how to live. 

For now, that looks like one step in front of the other. 

Breathing in and out. 

Eyes lifted to the sky.

Hands open in surrender. 

It is thanking for the 17 years we did have.

For first steps, birthdays, learning to ride a bike, snuggles and reading, laughter and discussions. 

Graduation and dreams.

Hugs and a kiss before he left. 

All gifts given. 

We are awaiting the call from Chelsea sharing new life. 

That her precious Lilah has arrived. 

And that is hope. 

Hebrews 11:1

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and

 assurance about what we do not see.

We step out in hope. It is uncharted waters.

It is unknown.

It is a battle to strive to seek. 

But God will walk with us every step of the way. 

Even when we don't feel it.

Mostly when we don't feel it. 

He is there. 

And He is good. 

And He will restore our joy.

He will lead us through this Valley of the shadow of death. 

This Road is Hard, and Long

Psalm 13

How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? 

how long wilt thou hide thy face from me?

 How long shall I take counsel in my soul, 

having sorrow in my heart daily? 

how long shall mine enemy be exalted over me?

 Consider and hear me, O Lord my God: lighten mine eyes,

 lest I sleep the sleep of death;

Lest mine enemy say, I have prevailed against him; 

and those that trouble me rejoice when I am moved.

 But I have trusted in thy mercy; 

my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation.

I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with me.

I listen to a song, "shall I take from your hand the blessing, yet not welcome anything; shall I love you in times of plenty then leave you in days of drought. . .Let your will be done in me; in your love I will abide, Oh I long for nothing else as long as you are glorified."

So quiet my restless my heart. . in you. . .

The days are growing shorter. The dark comes quickly.

Daylight hours are precious and few.

There is still much to do to ready for winter. 

Many things demand our time and pull us toward the urgent. 

Yet our hearts ache and our steps are slow. 

This new journey doesn't fit well.

We weren't meant for death. 

We were meant for life.

And so all within us groans and tries to fight off the pain. 

We seek God's face.

We plead with him for grace.

We plead with him for strength for this journey.

My farmer works on the fence that he and his boy worked on together.
The pain searing like a knife.
Unexpected.
Death, the enemy, has taken his son, his friend.
And in the evening, with hushed voices,
 we talk of this ache and the purpose God has in our lives.
And how we are going to live with this factured family and
without our Lijy.

I delve into a new book. Desparately trying to use the mind that feels so foggy.

I balance check books, and agonize over 50 cents to get it "right." Something that is concrete. 

It can't be wrong. Numbers are constant. 

And so I find the error. 

Success. 

It is these little areas that I feel some control. 

Shortly after Elijah went to be with Jesus, a friend gave me a cd.

Come Weary Saints by Sovereign Music.

It is healing balm to my soul. 

I listen as I write.

I listen as I cry out to Jesus to please take this cup from me. . .yet not my will but thine. 

And I am reminded. 

We need to thank him for the struggle, for the fire.

And for the strength He gives.

For everyday.
God is still God even in the darkest night. 

I can not do this journey on my own. 

I hide in my Father's arms.

Because I am weak. 

And I long for things to be different. 

So, I turn and give thanks. 

I Count my 1,000 Gifts:

• Blue eyes that haunt my memory
• dimples
• lopsided grins as he turned and said goodbye, that one last time
• Friends
• Hugs
• Needlepoint at the backdoor remembering my red head
• Notes and cards with memories written in love
• College visits and a friend that comes with me to hold my hand
• Steps away from the accident leading closer to our home going
• The deep love of Jesus
• Daughters that love each other 
• A son that is trying to find his way with out his older brother
• A God that fiercely loves us and won't let go
• Friends who bring dinner when I am a weeping mess
• A doctor who still makes house calls and listens to all our fears and worries
• A husband that works so hard to provide for our family and never complains. . .ever

Deutoronomy 31:6

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, 

for the Lord your God goes with you; 

he will never leave you nor forsake you.”