Kara’s Collection: Scary Snort Struggles

Kara’s Collection: Scary Snort Struggles

from an article originally posted June 18, 2014...

I ran away for a minute with my boyfriend. We met friends, we attended meetings, we dinnered, lunched, breakfasted, and just enjoyed people. I struggled with energy, but I often pushed past my limits for the joy of the moment and being with friends that we rarely get to see. I cried in laughter, cried in heartbreak, and sat in silence hearing from the heart of those I love, those that are hurting themselves. A silence that is feasting on hearing from the heart of another—hearing the real story. Oh those honest moments are filled with such grace. So many of us often meet with children rumbling around. These were sacred adult moments of honesty without need to veil any words in any way to protect the young. No, these were honest, safe moments. Beautiful, beautiful moments.

Wednesday Bookclub: Befriend, Chapter 12

Wednesday Bookclub: Befriend, Chapter 12

We have been reading two chapters at a time, but I cried my way through chapter 12 and guessed many of you might have, too, so I thought we could just discuss this one chapter. Chapter 12 is titled Befriend Those Grieving and Dying. Sauls starts by sharing part of his own story in which his mother is doing poorly and he is witness to his parents suffering together. He not only sees his mother suffer physically, but his father suffer as her husband who loves her deeply and is grieved by this cruel reminder of human mortality. But as Sauls watches his parents brave this suffering together, he is reminded of the things on this earth that really matter—the small, mundane things that communicate love and that are gifts from God given to us to express sorrow and devotion and delight.

Kara’s Collection: I just knowed, Mommy...

Kara’s Collection: I just knowed, Mommy...

from an article originally posted June 16, 2014...

Yesterday, my dear Blythe wrote me a letter. A paper and pencil, put on a stamp, beautiful handwritten letter. It was a gift. A beautiful gift. When I saw the letter in the mailbox, I knew I was holding a treasure. I was tired, deeply tired from my hard week. I quietly took my letter up to my bedroom, hid under the covers, and opened my treasure. I cried. I cried and cried.

A Letter to Those Who Are Wrestling

A Letter to Those Who Are Wrestling

Dear friend,

Is that you I see in the back row of church? Eyes cast down, mouth hardly moving as everyone else seems to sing joyfully, frown turning the corners of your once happy mouth, tears threatening to spill onto your bulletin. I see your big sigh as you sit down, how you glance around the room as if to size everyone else up to see if anyone could possibly feel like you do—disconnected, disenchanted, confused, heart broken, disappointed. You wonder if the people around you actually are as joyful as they appear.