All posts tagged: gratitude

Time :: Stride

Time is a warped entity in grief and post trauma.  Life is going to end soon. Much sooner than you realize. It happened to the person you love, so it will happen to you, too.  There isn’t enough time to enjoy the things you want to enjoy. There isn’t enough time to appreciate the things you want to appreciate. There isn’t enough time to process, to make memories, to succeed, to change, to cherish, to slow down, to speed up, to remember, to move forward, to help, to stop, to wait, to listen, to become, to love.  Time is a warped entity.  And we have to put up with it no matter which way we go- whether we be optimistic, pessimistic, or realistic.  Something I’ve been working on these past five years, with the excellent help of my counselor, is to “take life in stride” or “as it comes.” That is much much more complex in nature than those catchy phrases. Our human nature is at war with the fallen world; we are always grieving …

Chaos :: Rhythms

Bouquets of newly sharpened pencils.  Bushels of apples.  Long shadows.  Falling leaves.  Pumpkin spice everywhere. Nostalgia. And then you have kids. Lots and lots and lots of germs. Stuffy heads and runny noses. Early bedtimes. Consistent schedules. Not enough coffee. School newsletters and paperwork. More stuffiness and less patience. The list could go on, but my fingers are tired just typing out that short list. My daughter goes to preschool two days a week and Bible study one day a week, so it’s a reasonable schedule packed into the middle of the week, allowing us the luxury of flexibility the other four days. But- I’m a Potter trying to run a little creative business that requires a lot of strength, time, and finesse; my husband is a Firefighter, Air Force, and an Entrepeneur Farmer. We’re either going to meetings, taking the kids out to play, running errands, cleaning the house, planting our crop, planning the next phase of renovations on our property, making time for friends, running off to work, trying to make a pot …

Mother: Tears & Wings

Mother’s Day 2015 I screamed out from the depth of my soul and shouted into the wind through rushing tears, “I just want my first daughter back. Please, why can’t I have her? Why is she gone?” My husband stood by speechless, sullen, torn, unable to comfort. Mother’s Day 2016 I kiss the tender tears of my second daughter, hold her to my breast, pray for her through Jesus, and bless the Lord for His mercy toward me. My husband and I drink in her sweet smell and listen to the music of her coos.       I am a wounded woman but I am not a broken woman. I am the mother of two daughters – a precious bluebird flown to Heaven and her little sister with tiny wings.    

Blizzard :: Blogging

You should see the blizzard conditions outside the windows of this old farmhouse. Fields and fields of white! It’s a pretty impressive whiteout right now. Well, maybe you’re like me, cozied up in a nordic knit with a side of bacon and a hot drink. (Don’t add too much rum to it, now? 😉 I have some time to think and to write. Unlike recently. I can’t remember when I last posted something. To be honest – which I assume is what you expect as the reader of a blog – I’ve hit a whole new level of grief. The truth is – which you can’t relate to unless you’ve experienced some level of grief in your life – I’ve been locked up in my own fears and doubts and anger. I’ve been trapped in my fear of the next worst possible scenario, trapped in my doubt that God isn’t compassionate, trapped in my anger that Heidi isn’t here. That’s the gist of it. There’s a whole lot more ugly, but I’m sparing you and …