Beauty for Ashes

I’m the kind of learner who does best doing.  In other words, give me a book to hold over a tablet.  Give me pen and paper to jot down something I need to remember instead of a keyboard.  Let me walk through some hard shit in order to learn what ever it is I’m supposed to take away from that season.   As cool as it is telling the world about my faith and my God, it also terrifies me at the same time.  I don’t pretend to have it all together; and I know that my knowledge of the Bible and what it says could be better.  My fear of messing it all up kinda makes me freeze and second guess the little I do know.     But what I have walked through, has given me so much more than sitting down thinking I have to memorize the Bible in order to share HIM.  That’s why I write.  That’s why I share my testimony as hard as it may be sometimes.  That’s why I know that by sharing the parts of me doing and the parts of HIM getting me through ...

This is how I want to live life.   Fearless. Fearless in the face of adversity.  Fearless in change; fearless in uncertainty. Fearless in my faith to just jump.  Even if it looks scary and doesn’t make a lick of sense; I just want to be fearless in the fact that I tried.  Fearless in the fact that I could fail and could possibly take the wrong path.  Fearless in the fact that in the failure and in the triumph, remembering that GOD is there in the middle of either.   Life is all about the journey. And somewhere along the way, I allowed the fear to dictate whether I stay put or if I jump at all.  So here is to jumping more; whatever that may look like.  Even if I’m crying making the leap, or yelling, yahoooo on the way down, either way, it’s about taking the leap and trying.  

With the winter months, darkness comes earlier.  The days are shorter and the nights, well, seem like they go on forever.  It’s been an adjustment, for sure, but isn’t that life?  Adjusting to what’s new or what’s happening.  Adjusting to darkness consuming our days, and longing for the light to touch our skin again.  Adjusting to transition or a new life season—it’s an ebb and flow of moving and changing; growing and embracing what is.   But like the chaining seasons, the storms of life and the darkness they bring can also long for something of their own.  The light will always find a way through whatever it is we are facing, that I’m certain of.  Because our God loves us too much not to break through the darkness and allow His light to touch our fears or anxiety; our hope in what will be or our lack of faith in a hard moment.   His light will reach for you in a moment you least expect it but need it most.  And when that happe...

It’s hard to believe that this will be the second Christmas without my boys in it.  But even in their absence, they will still be here in memory and carried throughout the day in my heart.  Ever since this parental alienation journey began, it’s been my goal to still celebrate them and keep up with the traditions I’ve always done; even if they wouldn’t be here to see it.  Their stockings are hung, their picture with Santa has been placed on the top of the piano and their artwork from preschool have been displayed.  All in attempt to keep them alive and present with us all.   Boys, we may not be together, but I am always here.  I pray that your Christmas is filled with unspeakable joy and love as you move into the New Year.  I am praying big things over your lives and future, and I need you to know that you are loved, you are wanted and we will never give up on you.  

Reflection—I’ve been on a journey through it lately.  Of moments gone, of things I wish I would have; of wondering how despite the… Reflection always teaches me something about life.  It teaches me something I may have overlooked or maybe refused to acknowledge in the face of.  It helps me to see things in a way I need to in order to clearly see. Reflecting has a funny way of showing me what is when what I’m looking at is upside down and maybe a little blurry.  Almost always pointing back to the direction of my thinking in the face of, and what I can change for what’s to come.   I’m thankful for what a little reflection can do for me.  Taking the blurry parts and making them crystal clear.  God always shows up in moments I least expect—but in moments when He knows I’ll hear him the loudest.  It’s in the middle of all the blurry parts of life, I need a little perspective.  And today, it took the dead of winter and an ice storm to ...

Faith.  Perspective. Shift.  Change.  Growth.  Prayer.  Reflection.  Learn.  Loss.  Grief.  Joy.  Thankfulness. So many words to process through from this year.  I don’t know about you, but I always feel a mixture.  Some more than others, but all working together somehow, someway to help tell my story.  A story of how all the good and all the bad was woven together to make me, me.    It would be easy to only remember the hard this year has brought my way.  But that wouldn’t be fair to the rest of my story.  Because without the bad there wouldn’t be any good, and without the good, there couldn’t be bad.   The most beautiful parts of my story are the beauty for ashes He has given me.  Answered prayers, kindness through others; love when I felt completely unloveable.  The beauty of walking with Him through both the good and bad parts of my story in order to have faith, to g...

It’s our choice whether we stay stuck in our hurt or get renewed in our hearts. —Lysa Terkeurst I was stuck for longer than I’d like to admit.  Stuck in the pain and heartbreak.  Stuck in the injustice of it all.  Stuck in the fact that I am a rule follower and always (try) do the right things even when it’s hard.   I couldn’t wrap my brain around how I ended up in this set of circumstances.  Thoughts of, ‘what did I do’ and ‘does He even love me’ came into mind.   It was in the middle of that stuck-ness that I realized that I couldn’t come up with an answer; not the correct one, anyway.  The truth is sometimes things happen because of what God will do with it.  He loves us—always, even in the moments when we feel like He just doesn’t.   I could embrace and grow through this hurtful season or stay stuck in all this storm was throwing my way. I would love to tell you that I chose to grow through it all.  But the truth...

Living with joy in the face of… I didn’t just wake up with joy one day.  I couldn’t feel it and I didn’t want it.  All I wanted was what my heart wanted and that’s all I could see.  The truth is, living with joy in the face of seems almost impossible, right; at least when you’re in the thick of it.  That is what I thought when this parental alienation started.  When I went from being able to speak to my children and hold them in my arms to nothing, I thought this was what would break me and snuff out my light.   But here I am, twenty-one months later, and I’m living with joy in the face of.  What I didn’t know in the beginning of it all was that the pain I felt combined with the joy I would soon allow to consume me, would work together in a way that even I can’t fathom just yet.  The two, would catapult my faith to a place it needed to go in order to see a perspective I couldn’t yet see.   The pain and joy working together trans...

Grief, broken hearts, loss, pain—there isn’t a pretty way to heal from it.  There isn’t a list of bullet points to follow to make it any easier, either.  It’s messy and all over the place.  You can’t hide from it or run away.  You could be like me and find yourself crying in the middle of a zoo one day.  All because you heard a mama say her son’s name.  The same name as your son.  And you sit, and watch as they hold hands and walk off together and the pain you feel makes you remember…  You have a broken heart.  And it hurts because of what is missing.  A longing you long to be filled.  A love you want to give.  A hand you want to hold in yours.     This is part of healing.  Allowing the feelings to come in the middle of a zoo and giving yourself grace in the moment to just feel.  Not only to feel, but remember this broken heart won’t stay broken.  God will take it and turn it into something...