A few weeks ago my sweets and I were able to sneak away for a weekend getaway. We were heading to the beach just the two of us to celebrate the wedding of long-time friends. The time away was much needed—relaxing, reconnecting, and slowing down from our fast-paced lives. I had never been to a beach wedding before, but I knew it would be a treat.
From an article originally posted October 23, 2012…
Last night while watching the newsfeed on my Facebook account, I grew very weary of the unkindness. In the midst of reading smears and slanders, a friend texted that he was praying for me. I admitted my heavy heart and seemingly loving people ranting in such an unkind manner.
Frankly, I do not have the heart or interest to enter many of these discussions. I rarely state my opinion as I believe this conversation alienates so many from the gospel. It is not as though I’m without conviction politically, it is that I think knowing Jesus is above those convictions. And the unkindness of the conversation grieves me from both sides.
Suffering is everywhere. Everywhere I look or turn, every friend has their trial. The last few weeks have been hard. Friends have had cancer return. My daughter’s eczema has majorly flared up for unknown reasons, and we’re in a rough time of trying to comfort, treat, and figure out the latest trigger. Other friends are struggling through what they thought would be the best moments of their life, surprised to find they are the hardest. Many quietly deal with health issues that will likely plague them for life. Suffering is suffocating. It drags down good moments. Steals one day, then one week, then one year at a time. It’s all consuming.
From an article originally posted October 17, 2012
Today is a hard day. Today is a great day. Today I GET to have chemo to fight an epic battle. The results and side effects of chemo are so difficult physically and emotionally. Reading this morning from A Shelter in the Time of the Storm, by Paul David Tripp, I found much comfort.
Several weeks ago I texted Jason: We’re having a Memorial Day BBQ—hope you and the kids can come!
But they would have already left for their big trip—you know, the big summer trip after Mom died in which Dad went a little nutso? (Jason’s words, not mine!) Their huge, fun, sad, happy, memorable trip.
