Thin Ireland

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Oh, ok. I was embarrassed that I'd said that out loud, and still cringe when I think about how casually I blurted that out. But in my mind at the time, a death that you know is coming sounded softer than some sudden incident, and I genuinely felt relieved knowing that her death wasn't out of the blue. We do whatever we can to tie a bow around horrifying circumstances, especially when we're on the outside. I had a lot to learn, and this little moment was a mercy from the Lord – my moment of embarrassment and self-conviction caused just enough reflection to prepare my heart just a little more for the diagnosis rumbling in my belly…

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His Bride

I have felt a deep ache in my gut for years — a God-given John-17 ache for unity in the body of Christ. I have grieved over our divisions, our American consumerism model of church, our lack of intimacy with each other and with Him — all bruises on His perfect bride. Mostly self-inflicted. And the reflection in my own mirror is just as guilty as anyone else.

A few months ago, a friend of mine was sharing his heart for the church, and briefly mentioned the story of David and Michal from 2 Samuel. In that story, David is given Michal, King Saul’s daughter, as his bride. Along the journey to David’s kinghood, Saul sends Michal away to be given to another man. Later, when David is rightfully and finally placed as king, he sends men to go get Michal — The King sends an army to restore His bride…

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Long Drives

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I’ve always loved exploring. I remember driving in loops through my small town for hours in high school, totally lost in my own daydreams. For how much I drive, I should be much better at directions. I somehow maintained my ability to completely drift into my imagination from childhood all the way into adulthood. It probably makes me a little odd. But it also makes it easier to fall into deep prayer time with the Lord…so we’ll call it a gift…

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Loose Paper

You are mine.

At my core, this is the fullness of who I am to Him. And those three words give me more depth than any role I could ever serve.

Last month, I couldn’t find my journal. I have a new one I started in 2024, but this one is the one I kept from 2011-2023. It is thick and bound in ornate green leather — a wedding gift from my grandmother. It has entries from the first years of marriage and motherhood, from several moves and big changes. And it has every poem, song, and journal entry from our hospital years with Sunley — prayers and writings that were too raw and personal for the blog.

And I lost it…

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Outcomes

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OUTCOME - noun - the way a thing turns out; a consequence.

We have finally concluded our lemonade stands for 2024! And although we had much fewer stand hosts this year, I'm so pleased to announce that thanks to so many generous donors, some of which donated large amounts anonymously, Write With Light Project will be donating ...

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Mad at the Mountains

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I'm mad at the mountains. What usually fills me with wonder and praise now looks like something I'd love to see destroyed. Not really – they're still pretty beautiful. But anger and wonder can coexist. Suffering and delight. Grief and joy. So I can love looking at these mountains and still be mad at them.

Kind of like how a mother feels when her kid is bullied, and she wants to punch the bully in the face – that's kind of how I feel about the Rocky Mountains. We'll call it my “Rocky Rage.” They are beautiful, but they betrayed my kid, so I kind of want to drive up there with a front loader, and stone by stone tear…

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Letting Go

I am well acquainted now with letting go. I hold all things that I can touch very loosely. When Sunley received her fetal diagnosis of a very rare version of Hypoplastic Right Heart Syndrome, it felt like I had to give up nearly every tangible thing I had built. We left my hometown, sold our very funky midcentury modern house that I loved, and I abruptly quit my dream job as a traveling wedding photographer. Our older kids had to live with my parents in Midland for about 10 months, occasionally bouncing around to different relatives, while Derek and I did the hospital thing in Houston. We rarely were able to attend church that year. We gave away our family dog. We watched our tiny baby — and so many other babies — suffer and fight so hard just to keep their hearts beating.

We let go…

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