From Riches to Rags, and the Glory I Found There

There are stories I tell myself in the dark recesses of the night. When exhaustion has somehow given way to insomnia. When the ease of joy has faded with the setting sun and grief has slipped into the room with the shadows of the night.  When I was a little girl I woke up my father one night and told him that nightmares were keeping me awake. He told me to lay back down and to imagine all the good things what I wanted to dream about. He taught me that I had to power to change my dreams, to sway my heart. The wisdom of fatherhood in action. The telling of stories came naturally to me, even then. And as I grew up, I found other ways to share my stories. Eventually coming to settle into the consistent action of blogging. Sharing my stories with my small corner of the world.  But sometimes I still feel like the little girl I once was, with nightmares threatening to keep me awake. And, unfortunately, those nightmares can sometimes be real, existing in the sunlight just as much as t...

God, so often, leads me to these pages and asks me to give more of myself than I am, initially, willing to give. Vulnerability is a sacred gift and a brutal undertaking. I am honored that you take the time to share in mine, time and time again. This week has been one of the hardest weeks I've had since the first month after John died. I fell apart multiple times, weeping onto journal pages, and fighting the panic that seems to live in the the hearts of the bereaved. I tried to figure out the reason. Why now, why here, why over this? But no wisdom was bestowed on me. Instead I wept through all the pain that envelopes people in the wake of losing a spouse. There were no words of peace that comforted and no warm embraces that chased the shadows away. There was simply sitting with the tragedy that continues to exist in my life.  Its been 8 months since I walked down that road to confirm my husband's death. 8 months...such a long time, and yet, no time at all. I didn't feel stro...

I don't know if I even have the words to describe my current state of life.  It's been incredibly amazing in its unfolding. It's been completely surreal in its beauty. And it's been heartbreakingly hard in its entirety.  I think there was truly a time when I chose to stop believing in miracles. Because the brutality that happens when supposed miracles fall apart is almost unbearable. And I have had my fair share of broken miracles. Just look at my blog from a year ago. What an incredible miracle! And yet, two days after our first IUI cycle failed, John was killed in a motorcycle accident. Why bring such hope only to have such devastation take its place?  I have welcomed grief into my heart time and time again. And it is so tiring...so heartbreaking. Some days I would hang my head and ask "can this please pass from me?" I identified with Jesus so much in those moments. Asking the Lord for a reprieve from such devastation. But it did not pass from me. And I had...