Home is where your heart is. There is something about home.  It doesn’t matter where I am, how wonderful it may be, and how much fun I may be having, at some point, I long for home.  Furthermore, when I am struggling, hurting, or in pain at a location other than home, I feel desperate

We had a blast celebrating Jessie Girl the last two days.  On her actual birthday, the three generations of Adelseck ladies went to Disneyland in the morning, home for a nap, and then Jess got to go back to Disneyland with her mom, dad, Auntie Sarah, and Uncle Dean—a time that even included a dance

It is hard to believe that Jessie is three years old today.  That little button that I gave birth to is growing into an amazing little person! She is bright, funny, beautiful, well-behaved, thoughtful, sensitive, and so much more. Of course, every life is a miracle, but Jessie’s life of health and vibrancy is particularly

I returned home from the New York Hunter’s Hope Krabbe Family Symposium this evening and have much to ponder and process after the week, but something that stands out immediately is how significantly different my experience was from last year. In my day-to-day living it is very difficult to recognize movement in my grief—though there

I head out on a trip with my mom (and Jessie) to Buffalo, New York for the Krabbe Family and Medical Symposium tomorrow.  It has been almost exactly five years since my mom and I traveled together by airplane.  I was going to Baltimore, Maryland for a Learning Enrichment Conference but since I was 27

An unexpected outcome on this journey of loss is that I have been exposed to the brokenness of people’s lives in a manner I would never have been let in before (and likely did not have eyes to see or understand previously).  People are honoring me with the rare opportunity to peek into their pain—I

Dear family and friends… As we hit 21 months without our Judson, the two year anniversary of losing him feels like it is right around the corner.  Somewhere along this journey I made a personal commitment to very intentionally write, as openly as possible, about the depths of my grief through the first two years. 

As we were reading through various stories in Jessie’s Toddler Bible this morning, we came upon the story of The Widow’s Boy. I read through it like every other story… Why is that poor woman crying?  Oh!  Now you can see!  Her boy has died.  Those people will bury him.  But look!  Here comes Jesus.