My heart hurts for him today. He’s trying so hard… to give up, To be worth giving up on, To give us no choice but to give up. He’s trying so hard To make sure he gets absolutely nothing good nothing enjoyable. He is sure Absolutely SURE that in my heart I hate him that in my heart I want to squish him like a bug. My heart cries for his healing today, believing in our healer to...
One wore a helmet. One left his helmet on the ground. One was riding to earn trust. One was riding because trust had been lost. One came home early just to check in. One will not be sleeping in his bed tonight. One is striving for healing, as hard as it might be. One is walking away from health, determined to stay in control. Both are loved. Both are prayed for…and prayed for…and...
It may be a tantrum… But it’s only a 1 hour tantrum instead of an all day tantrum. There may be stomping and yelling…. But there’s not any hitting, or throwing, or swearing. There may be sneaking… But it’s only one or two instead of the whole package. There may be stinky armpits… But at least there’s a clean bum. We’ve come a long way...
Nothing has changed. Gabe is still gone. We know where he is, and we know he is going to school, but everything else seems so… surreal. I’ve cried a lot. I didn’t expect this to happen so soon. So abruptly. We have choices to make, but not yet. We are still waiting. We’ve put it out there in as many ways as possible that we will welcome him back home. Yes, there are...
Gabe turned 18 two weeks ago. Three weeks ago. Whatever. I thought it was take longer than this. He’s gone. By his own choice. Hopefully not forever. Hopefully not for long. This sucks. I miss him. I don’t miss his bad attitude and disrespect. But I miss him. Anyone who’s been through this, please help. We need to know how we should approach this. Praying deeply. Blessings...
Dear Son, Today you turned 18. We made it! All those nights of crying over you, praying over you, and convincing you and ourselves that we would not give up have paid off. We made it! I am thankful to say that every day gets better. Who knew that when I was only 8 years old, you were created in your mother’s womb, and one day you would be MY son? God did. Who knew that a summer...
I felt the contractions, the pushing, the pressure. I heard his first cries of life. I saw with my own eyes. We had a boy. I felt his baby fingers and toes. His fuzzy, curly hair. I smelled his wonderful new-baby smell. I kissed his beautiful cheeks, and his nose. I heard my beloved’s voice coo at his new son. I discussed what we should name him, and I wasn’t so sure about Samuel or...
My daddy is gone. Gone to be with his Savior. With his King. Right where he always wanted to be. But he was only 55. Last night I was shattered, and all I could think about were the “He will never…” and the “I will never…” agains. They flooded me. But not today. Today I am flooded with memories of my wonderful daddy, Instead. “Once upon a time there was a...
Between wishing you had never opened your home to “those kids” and knowing there is nothing else you would rather do than parent and love on “those kids” it’s tougher than tough on your heart. On my heart. I realized this evening that I have not been on MARE since September. Or Spence-Chapin for that matter. There are two reasons for this. 1. I’ve been so crazy...
I dreamt about you again. I could feel you inside me. I dreamt about the passion that created you, and the joy on your daddy’s face. I dreamt that I was in a locker room bathroom peeing on a stick, and how quickly those two lines appeared. I dreamt that my dear friend Melinda was there to catch me when I collapsed in disbelief, because who else would be? I could feel your kicks inside...
Wife, mother, chauffeur, referee, teacher, chef, caretaker, etc...All unto Christ.
