From an article originally posted December 3, 2012…
I’m not a gifted person when it comes to waiting. Feeling lousy right now is making me angry. I want to be better. I want to be able to walk around the block. I long to be able to reduce my drugs enough to be able to pick up my kids from school. I want to meet neighbors, host dinners, meet new babies in our little church, help our sweet friend battling cancer with their young son. I want to do anything but be in this darn bed recovering!
I am a quirky person; well, all of us are actually. One quirky thing I do is count my days with coffee filters. I buy them in packs of 100, and so when I open them I always think, What will life be like in 100 days? Sometimes I know—summer will be over, school will be rolling, snow may be on the mountain—but days always pass, nothing slows them down.
So now I have hit 150 days, 5 months, since Kara died. I think about that day often and cry freely.
Friends, it is with great joy I announce that Kara and Jill’s book Just Show Up is available for pre-order. It will be released on October 1. I can’t say enough about this book. I laughed and sobbed my way through it, loving the combination of my friends’ hearts and experiences and counsel.
From an article by Jonna McMahon originally posted November 29, 2012…
My sister and I share a very special bond; we share the bond of sisterhood. We are dear friends. We have helped each other celebrate all of life’s joys. We have held hands through thunderstorms. We have whispered secrets late at night. We have giggled until our tummies ached. We have leaned on each other for support when we could not stand on our own. We have loved, respected, cherished, enjoyed, argued, made up, advised, listened, and told one another the painful truth our whole lives. We complement each other. We have a relationship that is so special to me. It is hard to put into words. We are very close. We are sisters.
A couple of weeks ago, I posted a story about how after experiencing an unkindness toward me, I responded defensively, which I realized later was a failure to extend kindness to someone who most certainly needed it. The question I got the most was, “What would it have looked like to respond kindly?”
