I’m oscillating between strength and weakness. Between functioning and being back to “normal” but then mourning and being angry that instead of packing my hospital bag and putting the finishing touches on our nursery in these last few weeks, I’m not. There is no stocking up on supplies. There is no prepping and planning.

The moments that change us have a way of dividing our lives into a before and an after.

I think that happens multiple times in a life. As sad as that is to think about, knowing that we have experiences that we go through, that as monumental as they seem at the time, that there is no guarantee that something even more altering won’t come somewhere else down the line. That’s the side effect of living – leaving ourselves open to knowing that one day it may take every effort we have, just to breathe in and out.

Brokenhearted for Boston (hurting for my former home)

And a heart shatters.    And the eyes can hardly stay open to the fractured lives and the severed selves and the loss…oh the loss… I ache for the city I once called home. Though suburb-lived and miles south, I still called… Read More

I Still Believe (A review of Jeremy Camp’s memoir)

Jeremy’s music is such that I forget to match his voice with his name.   Let me explain, for this is not a negative statement:        The depth of his voice is so captivating, that a name is not the identifier… Read More

Focusing Through Blurry Eyes

It’s full of moments when speaking is incapable. It’s full of pauses when breathing is inconceivable. It’s full of questions when sense has been hijacked and no ransom can be offered for its whole return. We take our turns reacting and responding…. Read More