The Year of Spring

The Year of Spring

It’s the middle of winter.

The mornings are cold, really cold, and it takes as much bravery to run across the tile in the bathroom floor as it does getting out of bed. My hands cup hot coffee several times a day and I feel it’s warmth run all the way down to my toes. Our coats stay laid across the top of the chair in the living room for easy access, so I can grab them as we head out the door. A different hue of grey is the sky I see most days when I glance out my window as I wash dishes. We can peek straight through the line of bare trees and overlook the brown pasture in our backyard. The days are short and darkness falls way before I’m ready to let go of the light.

When Infertility Still Stings

There were four yesterday. FOUR. Sweet black and white pictures of little nuggets (that mostly look like aliens) fill my newsfeed. And all these years later, it still hurts. Not nearly as bad, but it does. I still get baby shower invitations in the mail, and it...

Be Brave. Smile At The Future.

I don’t know if it’s the crisp wind, the smell of burning leaves, pulling out those leggings and boots, or the warmth in my hands left over from my pumpkin spice coffee, but there is something about fall that I just love.It almost beckons an invitation.The wind blows...

Beautiful by Pain

Some nights when the fighting was too loud for me to sleep, a little bird would chirp outside my window. In the middle of the night. In the dead of winter. And I always knew it was Him. Even as a little girl, I knew Him to be safe. He was safe in the midst of the...