Category: Miscellaneous


So, I bought my husband, among other things,  a robe and slippers. I have two robes, but find myself slipping into his. I love this husband of mine. His cologne is on the robe.

Douglas the Douglas Fir Christmas Tree has been derbies. The lights and one blue ornament I have just seen are all that need to be removed now. Then, he will go out.

I often wonder why so many people respond to the death of my child with, “You can have another one.” with a pat and a small smile. Really? Your dog dies and people fall all over themselves with sadness and well wishes. My child that I grew and loved and birthed passed from being a part of me to being separate and cold. Yet, no one tells the pet owner to just, “Get another dog.” They are allowed their grief, their sadness. The pet is allowed to have exited and been enough on its own. But my baby, supposedly, and my grief can be replaced by, “Having another one.” What is the disconnect with the value of human life vs. all others?

Since my classes are nearly over, I am preparing to return to full-time work. I have been on a 37 hour schedule for a while. The work load never decreased, only my hours. Therefore, I need all 40 hours to complete my tasks. I look forward to working hard and working well. To completing more in a nice timeline.

Each day I look forward to the return home of my honey. To his hugs and voice. I am so glad he is mine. He is my constant through this winding, scary, hilarious life we walk together. We have never raised our voices to each other, never sworn at the other. We try to listen and value the other’s words. We tread gently when one is upset. We apologize and accept responsibility. We try to give grace, seek understanding. I strive not to hurt him. He protects me, as well. We are one. When one of us is wounded, we both take the pain. He is so very kind to me. I try to love him well. We are one.


Whew, this month has been seriously busy. Full time work, school three nights a week, 80 hours of clinical time on an ambulance, my missing son. I haven’t been to church on a Sunday all month. Legitimately, every weekend was consumed with 12 hour shifts and counting down the minutes until I got to see my husband again. Oh yeah, being a wife and trying (not super successfully) to keep our home warm and peaceful and…tidy.

This month, I had my first opportunity to see an attempted resuscitation in progress. I was recruited to complete compressions on this young kid. Technically, he was an adult, but far too young to be gone. I experienced the sight, smells and process that goes into a ‘Code.’ By the time one of the doctor’s called ‘Time of Death’, I was invested. I realized, as I removed my gloves, as the minister called for a moment of silence, some mother and father, surely anxious in the waiting room, would be painfully brought into my reality. Their son’s heart was still, despite truly heroic, extensive measures. The death of a child is a terrible, terrible thing. No matter when it occurs.

Tomorrow, I get to rejoin the church going world. I get to temporarily remove myself from the field of physical life and death, into the realm of spiritual life and death. I am striving to understand the difference, the gravity of it all. That kid didn’t make it. My son and him are in the same realm, physically speaking. A body without its soul.

As my son’s due date has come and gone, and Charlie himself has come, and gone, I am grateful for various things. I was able to hold and kiss him. Able to be present during his every moment. I am certain he knew neither hunger nor pain. For a husband who loves me deeper than I can comprehend. For a family that tries to understand. For the prayers of those that love me.

**Super side note: Anything bearing resemblance to “There is a reason, We will understand later, God has a plan,”  or other useless words that attempt to mitigate our grief experience is unwelcome and will likely result in some distance. Seriously, it does not help and I am sorry for the times those words have come out of my mouth. Honestly, I think even if I heard the ‘reason’, I wouldn’t be convinced it was worth my son’s life.

This year started with a party and a bang! And no, they are not the same thing. I think I have some poems to publish, but not right now.

One of my closest friends got married on New Year’s Eve and we PARTIED MUCH HARDER THAN YOU EVEN KNOW! I danced, laughed, shouted, hooted, hollered, yelled inappropriate things at the couple. You don’t even know.

People, I am so very in love with a man. His name is Matthew and I can’t even think of him without smiling. My heart does all of these funny things and no longer feels content to beat in my chest when he looks at me in that way he does. He is amazing and wonderful and patient and kind…and of the things you all know I DESPERATELY need. The way he cares for me is astounding. In ways I have never considered, he makes room for me. How I want so much to be good enough for him. I try to love him well. I remember exactly NO ONE telling me how infuriatingly difficult this would be. However, if I still get to hold his hand when the Sun goes down, I will give more than I have. Matthew is worth it.

Grandma has been doing better this year. Still some scary moments, but overall, better. Thank you for your prayers. Please keep them coming.

Sometimes, this whole ‘dairy-free living’ thing really  bothers me. I don’t like how it puts so many restrictions on those I love. They say it’s not hard, that it’s not a burden, but I find it so very inconvenient. I am learning to get over myself…a bit. But, I think it will just take more time.

Pardon me, people, but, do you remember AAAAALLLLLLLLLLL of those posts about wanting to cry and not knowing why? WELL! We are past the wanting part, and have now entered Tear Central. Good grief. I cry more than ever. I have probably cried more in the past 3 weeks than the past 3 years combined. And that is no exaggeration. Matthew is steady and, to his credit, is not phased by my tears, but I find them annoying. Help!

Ummm, this is not yet Social Media friendly, yet I can’t keep it down anymore: Remember that gentleman I introduced by name about 2 paragraphs ago? Yeah, him. He wants to marry me. What’s that? How do I know? Because that fine, good, honest man got down on one knee, opened a little black box and asked me to marry him. My response? ‘Yes, I will marry you.’ So, it follows,


Okay, I’m good. I’m good. Isn’t that the best news to kick off the year!? I thought so. I love you, folks.

As you were.

I’m forgetting


The most curious thing is happening. I am forgetting. No, not the forgetting of the last post, but another type.

This forgetting is of the other type. I am forgetting all of the harsh scrapes and stinging words of the past half-year. Both mine and others’. And it’s helpful. I like it. I am getting to the point where it’s all fading into a hazy montage. I am forgetting all of the ways I’ve felt. Now, the memories, however they made me feel then, now make me smile.

How crazy is that? I am glad for it and I look forward to how else these things will change.


I want to go on a date. I want to go out. Have fun. Laugh. Drink something I haven’t paid for.

I want to be reminded I’m pretty. Have someone confide in me. Enjoy another appreciating my company.

Really. Really. I do.

I don’t expect a proposal, or even a confession of undying love. I just want to go out.

Any takers?

Not really, that’s not my style. But it is something that is easy to get used to.

I guess it seems that no one desires my company lately. Maybe that’s just what I’m realizing. Even the one whose company I would love to be in seems distracted lately. But, “I am desirable. The King has chosen me for his own.” Yet, I don’t feel it from elsewhere. I ‘get’ that we should be content with only His attention, but He didn’t make us that way. Heck, I’ll even just hang with another lady.

I guess I’m just feeling lonely. Is this what 2* (like I’m telling you my age) is all about? New families starting and old friendships drawing to a close. Cause if so: no deal. I want my early 20s back. When people had time for me and I had time to kill. Where can I go where relationships are consistent? If this life is only heartache and change, I’ve had enough.

How will this play out?

Happy New Year!

I hope it has been a good year so far. No complaints this way.

I have worked out this year, twice! In fact, this is the first day I haven’t…ALL YEAR! (You knew it was coming.) I am a bit sore, but feel really good. I don’t mind exercising, I like being fit. And no, this wasn’t a resolution, I typically don’t make any of those. An acquaintance just happened to offer me a week pass right before the New Year.

I am excited to not have to leave the house today, seeing as how it ‘feels’ like -5F. Yeah, that is no typo, there.

Anywho, just wanted to drop a line and not lose the habit of writing in here every so often. May your New Year be all God has planned for you!


It’s easier to talk about you than it is to talk to him. Though, I am making some headway. It’s also a bit more fun to think about you and us than him and me. But, easier and more fun is not the way to a fulfilling life. If I only do the easy thing, I won’t get the accomplished feeling of completing a difficult task. Not that I’m against a few ‘gimmies’ every now and then, but you have to grab things in life as well. Donny said it was ‘Lambano.’ “To take what is one’s own.” Doing that requires both desire and effort.

Right now, I’m more lamb than lambano as far as that definition. But I will get there. Surely, I will get there. And maybe once I’m there, and I’m holding on for dear life, as I should…Well, I’ll leave that thought where it rests for now.

Here’s to the Greek of all things difficult.


Yes, I am still awake. I figure, I might as well wrote if I’m not going to sleep, right?

Anyway, can I just say how excited I am that it is FINALLY November? October was the worst month for me in at least 5 years. I am so glad it is over. Not to say there weren’t great parts to it, but overall, if I never see this October again it will have been too soon.

In exactly 2 weeks I am homeward bound (yes, like the movie). I have a short list of folks I will see and a load of time spent staring at the water. For all the Northerners, I mean ocean water, with sand and all. How I miss the beach. I miss the water more than I ever thought. It’s so easy to remember how small I am, how great God is, what power He holds, just by watching the waves break. The waves can be so tame, so unpredictable, so joy giving. I am really, really looking forward to the beach.

Other news? Oil heating is expensive. All I’m going to say about THAT.

Did I mention I’m glad October is over?

Still can’t shake the desire to cry non-stop. Still not sure where it comes from. Still not willing to fully pursue it. Still annoyed when I can’t speak because my body hasn’t figured out how to cry and breathe simultaneously. Still a punk.

Well, I’m going to turn in, now. Thanks for reading. If any of you are still out there. (Sorry I never finished my ride-along stories!)

G’midnight. 😉

A snippet

Here’s a small bit of what exchange went down in my heart last night:

“If I sent you halfway across the world, alone, with Me, of course, but lacking all other human contact except those that believe something different from you, would you go?”


“But if I asked you to live humbly, the wife of one amazing man, mother to godly children, would you?”

Do I have that answer? Do I think that marriage and kids are an end all for me? That it’s not big enough? That it’s not enough? Is that cocky of me? Aren’t we taught to dream big? Accomplish things not done in your lifetime? But isn’t sowing seeds into those that come after you in the form of your children continuing your work? Or is it better to disciple others by yourself? But, if family is what You have for me, I should be content? Right? But if it’s not, and if travel for world missions excites me more, is that for me or the coming generation? Can I be a stay at home mom? Will I? Can I be a midwife with a family of my own? Without one? For time, sharing in a joy that will never be mine? Then, won’t I tire of it? What then, Lord?

What now?



*Disclaimer-though I wish, I have yet to have a calling to world missions, though I enjoy it.

It’s been four years. Four years. Since, well, since I was something special to someone special.

I don’t feel unlovable or inadequate. I just, I can’t get why I want to. I know all the right answers:

  • God placed the desire inside me
  • Humans are designed for companionship
  • It’s a good thing
  • I need it
  • He’s pretty hot

For some reason, I can’t get over wanting someone. I don’t mind it so much. But I’m beginning to not see the point. What’s the point? Just…What’s the point?