Lately the song “Even If” by Mercy Me has been speaking directly to my heart. Some songs are just songs, but others just hit you, no matter where you are. This one has wrapped itself around my weary heart more times than I can count these last few weeks. There is one line that especially gets me every single time: “I know you’re able and I know you can….” That line reminds me that God can calm the storm, heal the hurt, fix the brokenness, restore relationships, and carry us through every impossible situation. But the part that follows is what truly challenges my faith: “But even if you don’t…” Even if the answers don’t come the way I hope. Even if the pain stays longer than I want. Even if life continues to feel heavy. Even if I don’t understand. God is still God, and he is still good. Faith is easy when prayers are answered quickly and life feels manageable. Faith becomes much harder when you’re emotionally e...

                    There are seasons when stress comes in waves, and then there are seasons where it feels like every wave crashes at once. Usually I handle stress pretty well. Over the years, life has taught me how to juggle hard things, work, family, caregiving, grief, schedules, responsibilities, and disappointments. I have learned how to keep moving even when life feels heavy. Lately the pile just keeps getting bigger. Mike is facing a major decision regarding his health and future, and while it is ultimately his choice, he wants my input. That alone feels enormous because when you love someone deeply, you carry the weight of their uncertainty too. You want to help make the “right” decision when there may not even be a clear, right answer. At the same time, there is the ache of a broken relationship with someone I love. Anyone who has walked through relational heartbreak knows how emotionally exhausting it is. It lingers...

                 There comes a point when you realize no matter what you say, what you explain, how deeply you apologize, or how carefully you walk, it still won’t be enough for the other person. That realization hurts, not because you don’t care, but because you do.   I have acknowledged my mistakes. I have apologized sincerely I have validated feelings that may be very different from my own experience or intentions. I have respected boundaries. I have agreed to disagree. I have stepped back and given the space and low contact that was requested of me. Yet somehow even that becomes wrong. Giving space becomes “not trying.” Staying quiet becomes “not caring.” “Speaking (or writing in this blog) becomes “making things worse.” It feels like living in a place where every direction leads to criticism. Damned if I do and damned if I don’t. One of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is that reconciliation cannot be carried by onl...

                        At some point in life, you realize that no matter what you do, someone will have an opinion about it. If you speak up, you are “too outspoken.” If you stay quiet, you are “cold” or “don’t care.” If you write honestly about your life experiences, people start reading between the lines, trying to figure out if the words are about them. Often the people who become the most upset are the ones who recognize themselves somewhere in the story. Writing has always been therapeutic for me. My blog is where I process life, pain, disappointment, joy confusion, grief, and growth. It is not written to attack anyone or humiliate anyone. In fact, I usually go out of my way not to use names, genders or identifying details. But even then, some people still become offended because they believe the words are about them, and sometimes, they are. Does that mean I am supposed to stop writing? Am I supposed to silen...

                        This Mother’s Day will be my third without my mother, my second without my mother in law Jeannette, and my thirteenth without my former mother in law Carolyn. Three women who were imperfect, complicated, loving in their own ways, and who each left fingerprints on my life. As I grow older, I find myself thinking less about where they fell short and more about the things they gave me, life lessons, memories, traditions, resilience, laughter and even hard experiences that shaped me into the woman, wife, mother, and grandmother I am today. Being a mother, and now a grandmother has been the greatest blessing of my life. Nothing compares to holding your babies for the first time, hearing them call you mom and later hearing little voices call you Grammy (or Gammy, Manny, & Jammy). My children, their spouses, and   grandchildren are treasures I thank God for every single day. But mother...

                         Life lately has been like reading a medical report I never asked to understand, and yet here we are, learning every word because it’s our life. Mike met with the infectious disease doctor on Friday, again to talk about his back, his Ankylosing Spondylitis and what if anything can be done. The official report describes him as a 62 year old man with “Complex medical comorbidities”, clinical words for a life that has been anything but simple. Diabetes with nerve damage, end-stage kidney disease requiring dialysis 3 times a week for the last year, and longstanding Ankylosing Spondylitis that has slowly and painfully taken its toll on his spine. For years Mike was on strong medications, biological immunosuppressants to try to manage the A.S. but those came with a cost. He has developed repeated infections- skin, bone, joint. Mostly staph infections that just keep coming back. It got so ...