Returning to Me

 I used to be an avid reader of fiction. Reading was one of my favorite hobbies from high school onward. It was a passion I shared with my Granny. Special memories of swapping books and eagerly awaiting the other to complete them so we could discuss the plot and characters.

I used to be a lot of things before cancer slipped itself into all the little crevices of my existence. The constant care-giving, the years of battle, the loss. Widow brain (a real thing, friends). 

Since his passing in January of 2014, amidst the stresses and exhaustion of solo-parenting our two fabulous children through middle school, high-school, and into college. I have read exactly one book start to finish. One.

I have, within the past year, happily remarried and found amazing love which has expanded my heart in ways I didn’t know possible. I now balance having active kids in the home again. We are a blended family of seven. 

Moving to a new town, not knowing anyone, the isolation of the covid pandemic, and working from home (thankfully in my same career!) all added up to me desiring something of my own to do with snippets of free time.  Being my directionally challenged self, I got lost one afternoon (in our one stoplight town...don’t even ask) and found myself driving past a library. A library! I immediately parked and went in. Registered for a library card and perused the shelves for my first book to check out. Selecting a suspense fiction work by an author I had never read, intentionally choosing one of a series to help encourage me to finish quickly and return for the next. 

Over nine years since I’ve gotten fully lost in the pleasure of reading. Wouldn’t you know it the book I selected {“If I Run by Terri Blackstock”} unbeknownst to me, has Christianity as a subtle, well-written, underlying theme! 

Today I find myself poolside on a mini-escape with my two oldest finishing up book three in the series. Book THREE. 😃 Less than a month after I signed up for a library card in my tiny new hometown. 

Isn’t God good? Refreshing my soul and my passion simultaneously.  I feel extremely favored, as He reminds me daily that He cares about the smallest details of my existence.

A Good Man

 Yesterday was hard.

I can’t even explain why the seven year anniversary of my late husband’s passing hit in such a raw and fresh way; but man did it break down the flood gates of my tears.

Uncontrollable, guttural, breath-stealing sobs wrecked me multiple times throughout the day. Triggered by the most random things; a long early morning commute to work on a nearly empty highway; a friends name popping up on my ringing phone; walking into a lunch to see the faces of two dear friends who have faithfully walked the past nine years by my side; memory flashes of his final hours of suffering on this earth; scrolling up on a social media post from Mark’s late wife’s BFF and my heart shattering again for everyone who has suffered her loss; hearing my son answer his phone with a “hello, momma”...every little thing set me off.

A long commute back home.

A husband who without hesitation asks “how can I help?” the second he learns my emotions have run away from me all day, then rushes home to build me a fire in the fire pit.

And he lets me cry. 

He lets me sit and drink my wine beside the fire he built for me as the sun sets. He kisses my forehead and he returns to the house to prepare dinner for the kids while I sit with my thoughts.

Grief tears pour down my frozen cheeks as my heart breaks over and over again for our children and their journey. Tears of sorrow over what has been lost mix with tears of gratitude for a man who loves me so well in my new that sometimes it leaves me speechless. (No small feat there 😉.)

A man who understands. A man who doesn’t judge me for the uncontrollable eye leakage. A man who loves me deeply. 

I fell asleep last night after a day filled with so much hard and my heart was overflowing in gratitude to God for sending me a man who exceeds any expectation I could have ever considered having. My man. My present and my future. A good man. 

I’m one lucky lady. ❤️

Seven years...

Seven years…

It’s a long time. Two thousand-five-hundred-fifty-six days!

That’s a lot of living this life without your physical presence.

Seven years have contained some bad days; some days we weren’t sure we would survive.

So much change. Incredible growth. Hard roads walked; deep grief navigated.

Seven years have held some good days. Some days of thriving and confidence. Some days overflowing with pure happiness.

All days have possessed the common thread of your absence.

Each day also has been overflowing with the presence of God. He goes before, He walks beside, He hems us in from behind and He pours His blessing of peace within our souls.

Always loved. #EvenIf