From Riches to Rags, and the Glory I Found There

I want to embrace the life I live now, and not consistently long for the life I once lived or for a life I dream of.  John is no longer my partner. He is no longer my confident. He is no longer my protector. He is no longer my spiritual head. He exists in the most beautiful parts of my past, but he is unable to exist in my future. And I am left to accept the true brutality of empty arms.  To accept the fact that a man did not rush into my life the moment I was ready for one (how rude). To accept the fact that I am a single mother to a preteen who doesn't always like me.  I hate describing the loneliness that is widowhood and single motherhood. I don't want to sit here, in my blessed life, and make it seem like grief and loneliness is the only story I have to tell. But it is still a very real part of who I am...and I have always tried my best to share all the gory details of my beautifully broken story.  When I am weak and feel like I cannot manage this life alone, th...

And just like that. I am back into the dating scene. It's been over 14 years since I went on a first date. Boy, things have certainly changed since then.  I know what you're thinking, and you're right, it hasn't been very long since John died. You're probably wondering all sorts of things: Is it too soon? What if this is a bad choice? What if someone hurts me? What if I'm just running from my grief? How do I know if I'm ready? Who could ever replace John?  Why would I want to do this all again? How can you share your concerns with me? This is hard, why do I have to do it now? I'll do my very best to be open and honest with you about these things. Because they matter, your concern and worry matters, your love for me, and John, matters.  So thank you. Thank you for wondering the hard questions, and thank you to the people who have posed these questions to me. I welcome questions in the space, it is always better to ask than to wonder.  Is it too soon? Is t...

A couple hours after John died, I started having panic attacks. Full-blown, hyperventilating, crippling, panic attacks. Every single one of them were brought on by the same thought "I don't want to do this". I would look at whoever was next to me, widen my eyes in panic, and say "I don't want to do this" and then BAM, I could no longer breath.  I cycled through reasons I refused to accept it. He couldn't be dead, we had just talked on the phone. There had to be some mistake. I never actually saw his body at the accident site, maybe they were wrong. Maybe they confused his body with someone else's. Any minute he could walk through our front door. Any second I would feel his arms around me...hear his voice comforting me...any moment. I refused to accept it. And my body and mind paid the price over and over again. Debilitating panic and all breath stolen from my lungs.  In the 4 months since his death I have learned a few things about what I will refuse...

  It is crazy to me that we never really got a family photo. Not one where we were all alive and thriving. Every single one of our family photos represent brokenness and loss. For years John and I took Kimber's picture with us on photoshoots, always wanting to acknowledge our son, despite his absence.  Now...now it seems so strange that we aren't collectively keeping his memory alive. Now I carry the burden of two legacies all alone.  A month ago I decided that I wanted one last family photo. One last moment of honoring legacies as I continue to pick up the pieces of this broken life and walk forward.  It felt like goodbye, one last time. One last representation for the family we were...the one we aren't any longer. Thank you John.  Thank you for so many wonderful years of adventure. Thank you for choosing to love me, and for continuing to choose to love me for over 14 years. Thank you for the life of our son, for his red hair, and his handsome face. Thank you f...

     This is a hard one... Last year John and I prayed deeply about stopping actively trying to conceive. We spent a month in prayer and asked a few people to pray for us as well. John and I felt like we needed to stop. Stop with the tests, stop with the meds, stop with tracking cycles, stop with the supplements. I specifically felt like this was just for a year, I wasn't sure what we were supposed to do after that year but I knew He would reveal it in His time.      The Lord blessed us so much in honoring Him and trusting His will for us. We have truly had an amazing year. We traveled to Brazil on a missions trip, took weekend trips to Lancaster, Kings Dominion and Va Beach, vacationed with our family in the Outerbanks, and took a once in a lifetime trip to Albuquerque, the Grand Canyon, and Cimarron! And the year isn't even over yet!!! I can honestly say this year has been one of the busiest years we've ever had.      At the beg...

Have you ever read 2 Corinthians 1:3-4? Have you just skimmed over it? Have you thought, "oh, that's nice, comforting people is always good"? Have you thought one day someone might be there to comfort you? But, have you READ it? Have you let it sink into your soul? Have you read it and felt the calling? Have you wondered how there could ever have been a  time  it didn't mean as much to you? Have you felt the power of God's word flow from your head to your heart as He calls you into something so much bigger than yourself, so much bigger than your own suffering? I have never known comfort quite like when we sat in the hospital  holding t he  body of our only child in our arms.  I have never know joy quite like when we smiled and laughed  and shared our son with whomever wanted to meet him. We had an amazing support system. Amazing family members, amazing friends, amazing church family, and ama...

Kimber died. 2 1/2 years ago, he died. And it almost felt like we died too. Like our very breath had been stolen from our lungs. It literally felt like we were defying nature when we to buried our child.  I say this so you can try to grasp how broken we were at that time. Time stood still the moment he died, the second his heart stopped beating.  Have you been there? In a moment that threatened to last forever and was so unbearable that you were terrified if you would never get out of it alive? But, the world doesn't stop, it just keeps revolving. And we learned, we can't just stop either.  Slowly God asked us to move forward, step by step. Steps we weren't sure we were ready for. Steps that scared us beyond human comprehension.  But He held us as we took them, every single, unstable step. He gave us infertility and asked us to walk...to walk and to still be with Him. He gave us our son, Kimber, and He let us walk as we fel...

Fairly often, particularly on my rough days, I find myself missing all the things that Kimber never got to experience. Regret is a slippery slope...I do not want to fall into bitterness over "what if"s and "should have"s. So, today is a "Blessing Blog" - of sorts. Let me share with you some of the places that we went with Kimber and some of the experiences we were able to have as a family. Words could not express our pure joy over Kimber. When we announced him to the world their joy was overwhelming. Friends and family cried happily for us, men gave John heavy slaps on the back and hugs. So many people rubbed my belly over the months, greeting him and talking with him from the moment they knew he existed. He brought so much joy, so much happiness, so much love. My sweet Kimber experienced the snow...so much wonderful snow in the few winter months he was here for. I'm sure he knew how much his parents love the snow (especially his Mommy!). We play...

Hello to whoever happens upon this blog post...stay and read a bit...learn something new, or at least something different. We've officially welcomed a new member to our family, an adorable little Labradoodle who we've named Franklin (to go along with the Peanuts theme all our animals have: Schroeder, Belle, Lucy,  Linus). We were on the fence about bringing him home so, thankfully, our friend let us bring him home for a week trial (during which he completely won over my husband, who was against him too begin with!). I, of course, loved him from the very start!  At the end of our week we went away for a weekend and we had a very serious conversation about keeping Franklin. It seems that, after losing a child, even getting a dog is a very difficult thing to do. I definitely struggled with that fact that if we kept Franklin it really closed the door on what our life "should have been". We would never have gotten a puppy if we had a newborn but the harsh reality...