God is Good, All the Time. All the time, God is Good.

Sometimes we just need to remind ourselves how faithful God is. Because He is. He is Faithful.

The things He has shared with us through His Word are not empty promises. His words can sustain us and uplift us even in our darkest moments.

The promises in His word are something to cherish. His faithfulness endures forever and despite our own failings He never fails.

Because there are days, and we know we all have them, that everything seems so horribly horribly wrong. Days when loss is overwhelming and sadness seems to have no end. And, in the moments of completely confusion and uncertainty we must lean on Him and trust that this too shall pass.

So, when your days are hard and seemingly unbearable praise the Lord for who He is, because even in the darkest most uncertain times, He is always worthy of praise.

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The Tainting of Tattoos

You know, despite my tattoos...and piercings...and partially shaved head...I never considered that my look was very "alternative". At least not until someone said it was. I just thought that I was expressing myself in ways I might not have before. *I* like how I look...and I guess, if I'm being honest, what other people might think just doesn’t really factor into anything I do. But certainly not in the sense that I expect everyone to love everything about it all. My poor mom dislikes tattoos, my brother makes fun of my hair, and lots of people have said "oh...it's not quite my thing". I never expected people to like these things about me the way I like them about me. I am not particularly bothered if it’s not your thing. It doesn't offend me. I'm not asking you to get a tattoo...or a piercing...or to shave your head. *I* did it because *I* wanted to...you just didn't factor into it. That being said...I've never been judged so...interesting...

Our Story Hurts

On December 27, 2021 - almost 7 months after my husband died - I drove 4 hours to pick up a 12 year old girl who needed a home. 4 years later I rang in the anniversary of bringing her home by sleeping on the floor of her hospital room. Hours before, after a great day together, she dissolved into a tantrum that she couldn’t control and I couldn’t bring her out of. She was hurting herself and threatening me and I had to call the police so she would stop. We ended up in the ER for a behavioral health evaluation (not our first rodeo) and it was decided that the best thing for her was to spend a week at an in-patient facility. 4 years ago I drove her home…and today I had to let someone else drive her away. This is the part that everyone warned me about 4 years ago. The hardness of this part…the possible hopelessness of this part. The brokenness of this part. My daughter’s situation isn’t abnormal in the adoption community, or even in the parenting of biological...

She Doesn’t Call Me Mom…

My daughter doesn't call me Mom. There's a brutality in that that doesn't seem to fade. Because it's not just a name. If it was just a name I'd be okay with it...with not being Mom. But it's so much more, and in this season of life, my heart is seemingly constantly being broken in the wake of a daughter who does not want me to be her mother. I have held in secret deep hurts and brokenness in the life of my teenager's adoption. Partly because it's not only my story, but hers as well. But this year has been so very heavy...and I have so often felt so very alone in that heaviness. Who understands the rejection of RAD? Of ODD? Of ADHD? Of Adoption? Of a child who is so very loving and kind to everyone except their mom? I've read post after post of mothers, of fathers, of siblings, of children who have faced or are facing the exact life we are living, and they a balm to my weary soul. Comfort in the knowledge that we are not alone...that I am not alon...

From Riches to Rags, and the Glory I Found There

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