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Showing posts from November, 2018

Presents or Presence: Struggles and Reflections on the Holidays

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I’ve been wrestling (once again) with Thanksgiving and Christmas coming and trusting the Lord’s provision. Of course, He knows my desires. When I share this problem with other people they often tell me “it’s not about presents”; “focus on making memories”, “you have already been given so much”. I agree with all these statements and even feel guilty as I recognize I have far more than most of the world has but there’s still a conflict in my heart. It’s an annual struggle.
I recognize that it’s not about materialistic things but my love language is gifts. And it’s very hard for me to "not have enough" to give in the way I’d like. It’s not about the amount of presents or the technical value of the item but it’s about the thoughtfulness behind the gift. The showing of the “I-know-you-ness” that is important to my heart. The letting people I know, that I share life with, that I love and appreciate them.
God has always taken care of us. So why do I struggle with believing that He wi…

8 years

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Tomorrow is Peter’s 8th birthday. Where has the time gone? 8 years ago Samuel was going through chemo treatment and I was on bedrest having pre-term contractions. And then Peter was here. That sweet chunky little cherub with the dark hair and blue eyes. What a blessing in the midst of such difficulty and challenges. This precious babe in the midst of our oldest son losing his hair, vomiting regularly, and facing down death.
How much God has brought us through. How He sustained us by His loving hand. I wish I could separate Peter’s birth from Samuel’s cancer but i can’t. We were in 2 hospitals next to each other. Samuel at CHKD. I at Norfolk General. Mike running back and forth between the two of us. Oh those painful days.


And yet. God’s faithfulness. His promises to never leave or forsake us. His loving kindness sustaining us.
And here we are. 8 years later. Through many ups and downs. Good times and bad. We are still here. And God has remained. Thankful for the sweet, funny smart little…

Be Still My Soul.

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Mike is snoring softly beside me. M.B. is back in the States. I wake up before5 and can’t return to sleep. So I write.
Last night was Caregroup Dinner. It was a sweet time. Where we ate together. Where the kids heard a devotional story. Where we adults gathered and talked. A mixture of the good, the challenging and awkward.
I start trauma therapy in 11 days. I look forward to seeing if this is a good fit for me. EMDR... and more.
I can tell I’m shallow breathing just now.
This poor body of mine. So abused. I’m so frustrated by its imperfections and it’s done nothing but good to me. Trying to help me survive. Trying to help me cope. Trying to help me make it through the next morning. I’m so hard on myself. Beating myself up to do better, be better, make no excuses. And the trauma is so evident…. and yet I still rage at myself. What is your f*@!ing problem? The problem is my body is trying to protect me…. even if it’s just from myself.
It seems so easy a fix. Just love myself. Accept myself.…

Bone Crushing

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What do you mean you’re tired? That bone crushing exhaustion that keeps you dragging and lagging throughout the day. That weariness in spirit that has you fighting for air. That unrelenting plague that settles on you and will not be shaken off. No burst of energy.
Numb. Like my feelings are cut off at the nerve. I can’t feel the pressure of a gentle squeeze. I can’t talk about my feelings. They are cold strangers that I’d rather ignore.
Indifference. I should be excited. To see friends. To travel. To have new adventures. but it feels dull. Like a room full of khaki that I’m painting beige. Nothing stirring, gripping, capturing. Just mundane. Even my good things don’t feel good. They just feel blah.
And so I sit and write with the cat curled up next to me on a clean neatly folded t-shirt. And the soup sits in my belly refusing to digest. And my eyelids feel like there are weights attached to them. And I’m disgusted by my inability to do something.
Well, I did help Samuel with his poster fo…