Three Little Shoes
This past Monday night, I cleaned up the kitchen after we’d all enjoyed Stephanie’s giant, belated St. Patrick’s Day feast. As I finished scrubbing the last pan, I noticed there was a stillness in the air. The rush and banter and ornery, bed-time laughter of our three kidlets had disappeared. Our home was quiet. Not a peep was heard. Not even (thankfully) a mouse. . . .
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Upside Down Christmas
Christmas is a time of laughter, decorations, family outings, shopping, cooking, reflecting on the birth of Jesus, and so much more! We are supposed to be spreading Christmas cheer and everyone is expected to be happy, right?!
Wrong.
I enjoy the trimmings of Christmastide just as much as the happiest elf. Yet….
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So I Weep.
I talked out loud to Jesus:
“Why do other people get to keep THEIR babies, Lord? Some of those people don’t even WANT to be pregnant. Why have I had to give not just one, but six back to you? I pray to be like Hannah, willing to do anything for a baby, even giving hers back to the temple as he grew older, yet again and again those dreams disappear? Why me Lord? Why my babies? It’s just not fair.” . . .
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5-Way Change
Change. It’s a word many people equate on the level with a root canal. However, I love and embrace change. I always have. With my personality, I get restless after a while lest anything grow stagnant and listless. As a native Floridian, I’ve fallen in love with the Great Lakes State of Michigan. How so? I’m captivated by the poetic shifting of each season. Now don’t get me wrong, there are many constants for which I’m thankful…
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Pulling Back the Curtains
May I pull back the curtains of our home and let you see in for just a moment? Today, my wife and I are reeling with the news of our sixth miscarriage. We hoped and prayed that God would grant us a fun and exciting pregnancy announcement, and the delight of a fourth child. But now those ideas have completely unraveled in tears and agony. . . .
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A Place of Refuge
…I silently slid into the back pew with Hudson and hoped today he would be calm during the worship service. I quietly whispered a prayer that he would not run off like a wild goose or blurt out, “Don’t touch me!”
But like so many Sundays, his composure quickly unraveled. As he flopped onto the floor and rolled over, my heart sank. Yet again, it would be a struggle for us…
