living on borrowed time

Some days, it feels as if I’m living on borrowed time. When the images of September 11 fill my Facebook feed like they filled our television screen eleven years ago.  But my loved ones weren’t there in those pictures. When I remember that yesterday was the eleventh anniversary of when my sister-in-law pulled out in…

graceful

They spin and they twirl and they stand on their tip toes (preferably in the sunlight streaming through the window so they can watch their shadow dance).  In their mind’s eye, they are as graceful as the Ballet Magnificat.  “Aren’t I so lovely, Mommy?” the one asks in all confidence.  And I agree.  Smiling at…

Books

Pain Redeemed

“There are hundreds of ways that heartache can rip through our lives. The kind of pain doesn’t change the truth. God is the same no matter what type of agony we face.” -Natasha Metzler in Pain Redeemed Natasha’s story is one of infertility. Maybe yours is of a broken relationship. Or of a sick child….

Mary Kate’s Birth Day

Mary Kate’s Birth Day

in honor of our second daughter’s third birthday I’m posting her birth story… originally written September & October, 2009 Dear Mary Kate, During your first week of life, your daddy commented on how quickly one adjusts to a “new normal.”  And when your Grandma kissed you goodbye when you were two weeks and two days…

Sundays

Sundays

Sundays are just plain hard when there are little ones in the house.  Either your plans of sleeping in fell to naught and everyone was grumpy and tired the entire time you were getting ready for church.  Or you actually did sleep in and therefore everything was rushed and you were finally getting into the…

stretch

That second I realize I’m going to have to stretch to reach it and every muscle tightens in anticipation rather than relaxing to bend and extend. That moment I realize I’m going to be stretched beyond my comfortable status quo and everything within me is taut with fear. That is when I realize I can…

connect

There are days when I can’t even connect the dots of my own feelings enough to know what I’d say if I had the words.  The only phrases I can string together come from sad mad Country songs and I wonder if songwriters are always in a state of emotional conflict.  Other days the sun…

The End.

The End.