Sometimes trusting God isn’t triumphant or glorious. Sometimes trusting God isn’t even a desire. It’s a stubbornness that cries in the middle of the night, but attaches firmly to my faith. Sometimes trusting God isn’t a praise song with the full band on a Sunday morning, but rather it’s a stick-to-it-ness that says I know there is something deeper than my pain and a Power higher than anything I can rationalize, so I’ll give this another shot tomorrow.
Since I started offering soul-care sessions, I have been constantly blown away by the amount of trust people place in me. I’m meeting people for the first time, via phone or Zoom, and within the first few minutes, they begin to bare their souls, telling me about:their one deep woundtheir great sadnessthe thing that makes […]
We can’t stop storms. We can’t capture the wind or refuse lightning. Claps of thunder still startle our unsuspecting bodies in the middle of the night. But we continue to trust in a bat-shit crazy God who has continued to show up for us, time and time again.
I will never forget how cold the tile floor was on that hot September afternoon, as I slid down the wall of ICU room number six.
The statement that made my knees buckle, as I stood at the end of that hospital bed, was, “No, I did not mix up my medicine. I wanted to die. I do not want to be here any more.”
My clearest thought was how I was not enough. But if not me, how was our beautiful baby boy not enough to make my husband want to stay? I wondered how I could possibly face family and friends at our son’s first birthday party the next day, alone. I wondered if I would spend the rest of my life the very same way.