long weathering frost dark shadows inhibit thaw hindering our bloom

1.  The highlight of my week was a hand-written note in the mail from Susan, whom I have come to know since she engaged Judson’s story, lovingly reaching out to our family on many occasions.  She and her husband, Chris, who is a friend from my Biola days, are missionaries in Germany.  I am confident

For both Drake and I, prayer has changed.  Since crying out to our Heavenly Father to heal Jud, yet instead enduring his death, each of us have experienced a  reshaping of our approach to God through prayer.  But interestingly, our responses have been diametrically opposite. In truth, this has been a challenge in our relationship

I had to call poison control this week. I was cooking, mixing ingredients for a dinner casserole, when the smell of nail polish suddenly came wafting into the kitchen. I rushed into the nearby bathroom, realizing things had been a little too quiet for too long, and discovered Jessie with an empty bottle of clear

I have been going to bed frequently discouraged the last several weeks, carrying a heavy burden over some very real needs, full of questions as to what God is currently doing with our family.  Tonight is no exception.  I am lying on the couch confused, disappointed, and frustrated, finding it hard to trust right now. 

1.  Today I am typing this Thankful Thursday on my computer using a new lap-desk.  Several weeks ago our friends, the Robecks, had been in our home and noted that I was using the particle board backing from a picture frame under my laptop as a desk.  Yesterday we unexpectedly discovered a new lap-desk on

My eyes are stinging tonight from freshly engaging my ever-present sorrow.  It is strange how the sadness over losing Judson can feel so different from the day-to-day and yet so much the same; I am constantly cycling through the same emotions and yet there are no constants.  C.S. Lewis, in A Grief Observed, insightfully explains

Dear blog readers, A few weeks ago in my blog Slice of Life, I mentioned an unamed woman, Veronica Wallace, who had lost her first son to an unknown leukodystrophy and was suddenly fearing for the life of her second son, Gabe. Gabe died yesterday. I may know the unimaginable pain of losing a son,