Grief. Joy. Loss.

Grief is real. Joy is profound. Loss is felt deeply. Though I must admit, I never thought that I would feel all of those things at once, over and over again, until the last 9 months of my life.

On the Thursday before Christmas, I found out that I was pregnant. It was a complete surprise as I only took the test because I needed to start the next round of fertility. When I looked at the line, my heart stopped for a minute. I just held it and slid down the wall in tears. After trying for 4 years, we were pregnant. I had every intention of telling Nick in some cute way, but that all went out the window with my shock. As he came in the door from taking Hazel to school, I yelled for him. To hear him tell it, he was either in major trouble or someone had died. I showed him the test, and just fell apart. 

The next several days were a blur, as the month of December usually is, but it was more so this year. I was exhausted. I should have known why, but I guess I never thought it was possible, so it didn’t even cross my mind. What I do remember though, is the joy that I felt. As I sat and listened to the story of Christmas Eve (several times, cause yeah, I am a pastor. LOL), I found myself feeling just a little bit of the joy that Mary felt. By this time next year, I will have a 4-month-old and get to be a mom, something my heart has longed for so long. That day, I learned that I couldn't move as quickly as I usually do, and learned to slow my walking so that I could breathe. Apparently growing a baby takes literally everything you got.

A few days after Christmas, I began to experience “morning sickness,” I put that in air quotes because it really took place between 10am-2pm and after dinner. So, it felt like much of the day. I was so nauseous, and I have never felt the intense exhaustion that came from being pregnant. After a couple of weeks, I had my first ultrasound. 

Going into this ultrasound, I was convinced that either there wouldn't be a baby or there would be no heartbeat. However, as the tech was printing pictures that we could take with us, she said, “Well, today is a buy-one, get-one kind of day.” I looked at Nick, he looked at me. That’s when we realized we were having twins. Again, shocked! While we knew it was a possibility, we never thought it would happen. If you know Nick, the jokes commenced (something I love about him, most of the time. LOL). He was now eating for 3 instead of 2; he made a twin joke whenever he could. At this point, it all made sense, how tired and nauseous I was all the time. 

We had about two weeks to enjoy the news that we were having twins. Two weeks. And then the first hit happened. I had my next ultrasound; we lost one of the twins. The other was still doing well, and there was hope that the pregnancy would continue like normal. It happened over and over for so many; why not me? 

It is a strange place to be to grieve the loss of a baby that you have
found out about two weeks prior, and to still have another baby that seems to be thriving. So, I sat in this place of tension, grief and joy. I don’t think I ever felt it so strongly before, but there I was. I would have my moments of struggle and sadness, but they were often accompanied with moments of joy. I can remember one day sitting at my desk and just closing my door for most of the day to work so that I could cry and work at the same time. It was hard, but there was still light.

My doctor made the decision to send me to a Maternal Fetal Specialist intending to make sure that we were doing all we could to care for me and this baby. The appointment was set for a week or so later.

Then the second hit happened. The baby had a cystic hygroma on the back of its neck. While a cystic hygroma doesn’t necessarily mean bad things, for some babies, it can go away before birth and be a completely healthy baby. The questions became, is it accompanied by other anomalies or genetic or chromosomal issues? That day, our doctor told us that the typical blood test would not work because of the twin that we had lost, and that a good choice would be a CVS (Chorionic Villus Sampling) along with a detailed ultrasound. Something that the doctor said, and that my research backed up, is that there was a 50% chance of there being no chromosomal or genetic issues, and while the risks scared me, I wanted to know what we were facing. 

Throughout all of this, I had every intention of telling the church at 12 weeks. I was so excited and terrified to tell the church, but then when I had two really bad ultrasounds and bad news, I began to think maybe it wasn't a good idea, but I thought I would know by the following week what I was facing and would make the decision after that as the initial thought was that the appointment could take place the following week. However, the appointment ended up being the first week of March, which meant that we had 3½ weeks to sit in all the possibilities. And I had to make a decision as to whether I would wait until 15 weeks to tell the church, knowing that my emotions had been heightened and people had started asking questions.

I decided that I think the church would want to support us either way. So, after I went to an ultrasound at my OB/GYN and other than the hygroma, everything looked good, including the heartbeat, I decided to begin to tell the church, though several closest to me already knew and had kept me going when I felt my worst. 

For the first time in this pregnancy, I felt pretty good. Quite a bit of the nausea had subsided with some lingering at dinner. But I was able to enjoy being pregnant. I first told the ladies who had been on a retreat with me. They were full of joy and excitement for me. I shared with many of them that this pregnancy could go either way, but that I have decided to sit in hope despite my fear. Next, I began to share it at the church, knowing that I could receive bad news the following week. It was a joy to experience the support and love offered by so many. Frankly, it's overwhelming how loving and caring our congregation really is. 

Monday and Tuesday, I found myself getting more and more anxious leading up to that March appointment on Wednesday. That said, I had work to distract me. So I worked. 

Wednesday morning, I woke up, not really having slept much, and feeling a deep sense of dread. Deep down, I knew that something was wrong, but I just didn’t know what. We got to the doctor’s office a little bit before our appointment; they called us back. They took my vitals (oddly enough, through this whole pregnancy, the anxiety, and the ups and downs, my blood pressure had stayed the same, sometimes even low). Then they showed us to the room. The ultrasound began. She was scanning for every part of the baby's body. When she got to the heart, she said that it was at 143. I asked if that was good, and she said it was. It caused a bit of alarm within me because it had been in the 170s at the appointments prior. She continues her search. Of course, the baby wasn't cooperative, takes after his dad, I think ;) 

It felt like it took forever, and the longer it took, the more concerned I got. Then the doctor came in, while the ultrasound was still happening (not a good sign). He said, I see a few things that are concerning. First, I think there could be a heart defect, the abdominal wall is not where it should be at this point, and there was an issue with the growth of the nasal bone. He said, I am concerned that this could be trisomy 13 or 18. 

While I was prepared for the worst, I wasn't. My heart completely sank. All the hope that I had seemed to vanish at that moment. I had prayed over and over that this baby would be healthy and that all of this would just be a nightmare that I would wake up from. But I realized in that moment that the nightmare wasn't just going to continue but was going to get worse. I decided to move forward with the CVS, probably one of the most uncomfortable things I have experienced, but they were so kind and gracious throughout it. We finished, we had some more conversation, asked some questions, and honestly, were well taken care of by the staff. We were told we should hear preliminary results within 72 hours, and that they could also send it off for more extensive testing to see if this would happen if Nick and I were to get pregnant again. 

We left. I had never felt more defeated and heartbroken. Typically, the worst-case scenario doesn't happen, but here, it did. I began to think about how we didn't need to take apart our library for the baby's room, I began to recognize that we weren't going to need to have a baby shower, and I began to realize that we weren't ever going to physically be a family of 5 with this baby. Being a mom and hearing someone call me mom and know that I was their mom, and it wasn't just an accident, is all I have ever wanted. And now, it seemed unlikely.

That in mind, I still had this small part of me that had hope that this wasn't it. That the test would come back negative and that all those issues could be fixed (as my research told me). If it had been negative, this could all have been ok. 

In the 48 hours that followed that appointment, I found myself sad at times, angry at others, and fine as well. Grief is a strange thing that can become all-encompassing. One of the things that the doctor said to us at the office was that this wasn't our fault; we did not cause this to happen. While I know that he is right, and research backs the statement up, I found myself saying to a friend how I felt like it was my fault, because Nick has two perfectly healthy children with other women, why can't my body handle the same? I know it's not logical, but I got stuck there for a bit. 

I was angry, asking God, Why is it that I can't have the one thing that I have always wanted? Why is it that everything is so complicated and hard? Why is it that nothing that I have ever wanted could be easy when I watch other people easily get what they want, some of whom aren't even prepared for what was to come?

I was sad, with either prognosis, miscarriage or stillbirth was likely, and if they were born, they likely wouldn't make it very long, and if they did, they would suffer or be in pain. 

We have so many who reached out that day to see how the appointment went, and I just couldn't respond. It took everything I had to simply focus on what I needed to do and to focus on Hazel, who was with us. I didn't want to tell her something was wrong until we knew that something was wrong. We had a friend who came over with her girls and made us dinner. I was struggling greatly that night, my head hurt, my heart hurt, and I was out of the ability to be with people, even the ones I loved. 

Friday was, oddly enough, an easier day; I was distracted by work, schoolwork, and then doing trivia night at the church. It helped distract me as I was awaiting results that didn't come that night.

That Saturday, we spent the morning with family. I came home, took a nap, and then went outside with my computer to do some homework and work on the sermon for tomorrow, and I received a message that testing results are available. I took a deep breath and opened the results. It read: the chromosomal pattern that the baby has is consistent with trisomy-18. This is also consistent with the anomalies they found on the ultrasound on Wednesday before I had the test done. 

 

My heart just dropped. It all became more real, and the nightmare continued. I began to research Trisomy-18. It wasn't good news. In fact, in some research, there is up to a 95% chance of miscarriage or stillbirth for those who have trisomy-18. Of the 5% that may survive birth, many don't live to see their first birthday.

 

Tears began to fall. I realized that all that I had begun to think about with the baby's room, the family of 5, and even a celebration like a baby shower was true. None of it would happen. The rest of this pregnancy would be flanked with pain and suffering and a consistent wondering if I was going to lose this baby before I reached my due date. And death was imminent. 

 

The good news in all that we learned that Saturday afternoon was that we are having a boy. A boy that we would name and love no matter what. Over the next several weeks, we decided on a name, and while Nick and I had been keeping a list of names since we got married, we didn't use any of them. Instead, we picked out names that had meaning: Nathaniel Lucas. Nathaniel means "Gift from God." Lucas means "bringer of light." Even in the midst of my heartache, Nathaniel Lucas was all of those things for me. He was that gift that I had longed for, and a light that brought me hope even in the midst of one of the darkest moments of my life. 

One of the only pictures we got with Nate

As I journeyed through Lent this year, I didn't need help being in that place of reflection, but I did need help seeing the light in the dark. Being a pastor, I preach most Sundays in at least one of our services, and looking back on the last few months, I would say that grief poured out through my words, and I did not realize it. There were so many moments when I know God, wrote the words on the page, because I had none to say. 

We made it to Easter, one of my favorite days of the year, and while I was so glad to see the day come, I had a mix of emotions. We sang all the typical Easter hymns, and I was prepared, but then we came to "Because He Lives." A song that I know so well, but forgot that the second verse is about holding a newborn baby. Sitting in the front row of the Sanctuary, I broke down. Luckily, I work with someone who carries a handkerchief and who understood what was going on in that moment.

The following week, we lost Nate. 

Through all of this, Nick has been amazing. He has walked with me, at times, reminding me to breathe when I was scared. He held me as we faced it all together. He has gotten the food that I craved, made me laugh when I just wanted to cry, met my dark humor with laughter (even when it was really dark), and made sure that I didn't have to worry about anything, including dinner, when I couldn't cook it because I couldn't handle the smell.

The weeks that followed were a blur; my heart was shattered. The thing that I remember most profoundly is how very loved we were by those who knew what we had lost. I cannot tell you how many texts, emails, cards, notes, and gifts were left in my mailbox and on my doorstep. It was overwhelming to know just how loved we are.

All of this came a few weeks before Mother's Day. A day that I already struggle with, as a stepmom, and now one that I struggle with as someone who lost their child. I took the day off, as honestly, I couldn't face anyone telling me, "But you are still a mom..." Nick and I had a good day; we went for a hike, made lunch, and spent the day together. 

I got through the summer, went on a vacation to see family, finished my MBA, turned 38, and enjoyed time with family and friends, while the pain, heartache, and grief lingered.

As we began school again in August, I couldn't help but think about how I should be getting ready for this new adventure. I couldn't help but think about how Nate's room should be done. That it would be decorated in Harry Potter. I couldn't help but think about how I should be getting ready to be on maternity leave and putting things in place to be able to do so. But I wasn't. Instead, I began preparing myself for the day that Nate was due, knowing that it would bring an anniversary that I wasn't ready to face. 

One of the ways that I prepared was to build a box for all of Nate's things that were given to us. A friend and her dad helped me create a design and put it all together in one afternoon. It was therapeutic as we put it together; however, completing that box brought so many emotions I was unprepared for. This box gave me a space to hold Nate not just in my heart but also in our home without having to see all the gifts every day, but knowing that they are there.

That day that I was preparing for came this week, September 3. I did things that brought me joy. But my heart is still so shattered. This week, I have felt the weight of the tension between grief and joy. I felt the anger about how something that started out feeling like a miracle, especially since finding out at Christmas, became this heartbreaking experience that continued to get worse and worse. And truth be told, I have felt the shame of asking the question, "Do I even deserve to grieve?" And as my therapist told me this week, I do. We all do. 

 

As I continue to move forward. My heart still aches. Grief is present and so very strong at different moments. But also, I have found that even in the midst of great grief and loss, love grew. 

Nate existed for a short time, and I will always be Nate's mom. 

For that, I can be thankful.

Thankful.

Growing up, I always dreamed of being a mom. While having a career would be part of my journey, my biggest hope and dream was to find someone to spend my life with and become a mom.

4 years ago, I found someone to spend my life with after meeting him and beginning to fall in love with him 15 years earlier. He is funny, irritatingly smart (sometimes too smart for his own good), loving, caring, and sometimes maddening. But we are a good fit and make each other better most days. :) Throughout our journey together, we embarked on the second part of that dream, and while the journey is still ongoing, it has proven to be more difficult than I could have ever imagined. It has been heartbreaking and, at times, quite brutal on my body, heart, and mind.

Through it all, I have had Nick and the children who came into the marriage with him. They have taught me resilience even when it's hard. They have taught me to laugh more, to engage the child within me (something I struggle with), and to never be afraid of creativity- there is always room for it. While it hasn't been perfect by any means, and some days are harder than others, I wouldn't trade it.

Jack has taught me the power of one-line comedic timing that is so sarcastic it even stuns his father (who, in many ways, is his match). He has taught me resilience in a way that no other person has. He has taught me more and more about how to love wholeheartedly and reminded me what it looks like to stand up for your friends and take care of your friends. He has learned how to make my spaghetti and insists on making the sauce whenever we make it at home. I love watching him grow as he grows into himself. He has graciously loved Hazel, the big brother she loves so deeply. And even though he will be 14 in a couple of weeks, he still has those moments of wanting to be with Nick and me to play games (even when it's because we have taken the technology away. lol!) and even inviting Nick into the online games he plays with his friends! (Also, Jack hates having his photo taken! So I don't have many.)

Hazel, the complete opposite of Jack (and loves to have her photo taken) but who wants to be like her big brother, has taught me just as much. She reminds me of what it was like with my mom. We cook/bake together, (my favorite thing now is when I ask if she wants to help, she goes to the drawer, gets out her apron and my apron (even though I don't typically cook with an apron on, that's really for baking), brings it to me, sets up her stool, and just looks at me with this look that says, "I'm ready." We love to watch movies together and cuddle (I don't know how many times I have seen "Rise of Red”), and I have loved introducing her to all the old Disney channel movies (which Irible they are, now see how to but it doesn't matter, I still love them). She has shown us that she is a roller coaster junkie- so she will ride all the rides that her height will allow with me. She has a love of musicals and is always performing. She has reminded me of how we can be creative throughout our lives and in doing arts and crafts.  I have never met anyone who loves arts and crafts as much as she does. She is all-girl, which means that we have spa nights and other fun nights like it. We regularly have manicures at the house, and she loves going to the nail salon to get mani/pedis. One of my favorite things that she has said was when I said I needed a mani/pedi one day, she said, "ok. Let's go." My response was, "Are you planning to go with me." She looked at me with a "duh" look and said, "Don't I always?" She does not. Lol. She blows my mind with her vocabulary (something thather get from her dad), and she is kind, happy, I have watched and loving on most days, even as she experiences the chaos of living in two different homes. 

While the possibility is increasing that I may never be a mom, I am so lucky to be a stepmom to Jack and Hazel. They make my life brighter, way crazier, chaotic, and sometimes a complete whirlwind! Being a stepmom comes with its unique challenges and difficulties, and while there have been many tears and frustrations throughout this journey, there has also been so much joy that I would have never experienced if they had not been in my life. As Hazel becomes 7 tomorrow and Jack becomes 14 on the 28th, I can't help but be excited to see who they will become but also how much more they will teach me. I am so thankful they let me love and care for them. 

Happy birthday, Hazel and Jack! 

I love you, always!

Reality

Reality Check…

You know those weeks when it feels like nothing was easy and it always took so much more time to complete a task
than you thought it should? Yea, it was one of those weeks. This week has been hard. It was a long week with wonderful moments and some very difficult moments. I wasn’t always my best this week, yet my husband still made sure that I had bath salts to help me relax, held me when I hit bottom, and didn’t judge me for eating the 2 Mexican pizzas on Thursday night (yea, you read that right). And in the moments when I needed to apologize- which felt like every time I turned around-for being short, most people didn’t even notice and/or were very forgiving.

Then on Friday, I picked Hazel up from school. I got her a little earlier than usual to go and get her tap shoes before her new dance class. To say that she was excited is quite an understatement. We talked about dancing all the way to the shop and then all the way to the studio. Even though I haven’t known Hazel and Jack for long- it feels like I have loved them all their life. So her excitement became my excitement.

I picked her up from dance an hour later and we headed home. On the way I asked how dance was and if she liked it. (Truth be told- she has told us and her mom that “her dance teacher taught her…” for almost a year, sometimes being quite convincing- so we thought it was a safe bet that she would enjoy it.) She talked about it the whole way home and told me several times that “I will teach you what we learned when we get home.” When we got home, she put on her tap shoes and showed me what she learned. Then she looked at me and said, “where are your tap shoes?” I just laughed and said, well I guess I should get a pair, shouldn’t I?😆

We went along with our evening, Jack came home- I ran an errand- and by the time I got home it was about time for bed. However I hadn’t eaten yet, so I go to the fridge and Nick had left a plate for me- that he and Jack (and Hazel sort of) made. They are both learning a bit more about how to cook simple meals- something my mom and dad taught me and will teach them- though Jack tells us that he won’t ever need to know how to cook a meal for a date.😂

Nick and I have a routine with Hazel. He bathes her, I get her dressed, brush her hair, and then we pick out what she will wear the next day. Then I kiss her goodnight and daddy reads a book and she goes to sleep. Most of that happened Friday night.

The weekend went by without too much difficulty- we saw my family- which is always a good time and then a friend came to be with us last night which completely delighted the kids. They love Camron! I made dinner and we enjoyed each other’s company, playing games, Mario Kart, laughing and then finally getting in bed.

Earlier this evening, we lived into our other thing that has become a routine: Hazel and I take Jack to his mom on Sundays while Nick goes to practice handbells. It is a rare moment where it’s just me and the kids.

Sometimes we listen to music, sometimes we talk, sometimes one plays on their tablet while the other plays on their switch and I just have music softly playing. Tonight it was the latter. We dropped Jack off and headed home.

I knew that Nick would be late tonight because of taking Camron home- so we stopped and had dinner at our favorite place-Chuys. We ate dinner, and came home, I gave her a bath, and put her PJs on. Tonight though she was a bit cold, so I asked her “would you like for me to dry your hair tonight.” She said, yea! So we sat on my bed and I dried her hair. Afterward, we cuddled up and watched the “Presenting Olaf” shorts, read a book and now she is settled in bed. 

All these moments seem like simple things. But really- they are big things. You see all my life I wanted to be a mom- to love a child the way my mom loved me. I get to love them often, but as I dried her hair, it was like time stopped. I thought back to when I was a kid and my mom dried my hair (it’s still one of my favorite things, by the way), and I realized, I may not be Jack and Hazel’s mother (nor would I ever try to take their place- they get that special title) but I get to love and care for them like my mom (and dad) cared for me.

Tonight I needed the extra cuddles, the conversation (even if it was minimal in the car with Jack), I need the laughter, the peace, and the sweet little prayer that Hazel saidbefore bed. I needed to be reminded of the beauty even within the chaos- even when the chaos is not what I had envisioned. I needed to be reminded of how grateful I am that I get to love not only their daddy- but these 2 amazing kids!

It’s really easy to get bogged down in all the “stuff,” and forget to be present. I am thankful that tonight I could be. 

Happy Birthday Nick!!

I have been married for about a year and 4 months. People often ask me “how is being married?” Let me start by saying, I am in a constant state of growing and learning, some of which is very painful. I have no answers, only questions. With that being said, I would answer this question by saying, “It’s good.” But after some time I felt like that wasn’t a good answer, because it wasn’t fully truthful. I then moved to “it’s challenging but good.” But again, I felt like it wasn’t a true answer. So my statement is now, “It’s a challenge where I am learning and growing every day, but I wouldn’t trade it.”

I feel like that is as truthful as I can get because the reality of it is that MARRIAGE IS HARD. 

Some days it is great- everyone is in a good mood, everything goes just as it’s supposed to, Dinner comes out perfectly, the dog does what he is supposed to do, and we get the kids to bed with ease.

But other days may not be as good- Someone might be in a bad mood, or kids not following directions making everything more difficult. We are pressing one another’s buttons, or our frustrations get the best of us. Dinner isn’t great, and the dog is just barking at everyone or using the restroom in the house. 

And sometimes they are just bad- an argument or a fight just puts everyone in a horrible place. A trigger causes a meltdown, or simply a meltdown happens with no reason. Dinner was burned and you had to order pizza. The kids or your spouse are particularly irritable. Something breaks that you have to figure out how to fix. This list can be endless, let’s be real.

While marriage is definitely hard- it is beautiful. And I get to do it with a really good man. We both have our faults and have some major arguments at times, and some days it is a choice to love each other and work through the struggles that exist.

Yesterday was this man’s birthday. Nick turned 34. We spent the day together with Hazel- while missing Jack who was in school. We did all the things that Nick wanted to do: We had breakfast at First Watch- which was delicious. Went to Hobby Lobby (believe it or not, Nick’s decision), laughed a lot, and watched a movie or two. Nick and I had a wonderful dinner at Highway 55 in Nolensville. The pimento cheeseburger was one of the best I have had and their onion rings- YES! Try it! Then we went to Lowes and bought plants that he is planting today… it was a great day! 

As I reflect on yesterday and every day with Nick, even in the midst of the challenges- I fall more in love with him every day. 

Watching the way that he loves the kids, playing with them, dancing, laughing, telling really bad jokes, cooking with them, using his gift of many different voices making the kids laugh. Knowing how he cares for me- often in ways that I don’t even recognize. Seeing him overcome all that he has overcome. Caring for him as he takes care of himself. And so much more! 

Being on this journey with him, walking alongside him, loving Hazel and Jack as though they were my own, and laughing with him has been a joy- even when dealing with all the difficult stuff that arises- I will just name one- being a stepmom is hard. Our life is so far from perfect yet I wouldn’t trade it. I love this life that we have built and cannot wait to see what the next many years will bring us, the lessons we will learn, and the many ways in which I know we will have to choose to love one another in spite of the hurt that can be caused in loving one another.

I want to say Happy Birthday my love. You have taught me so much, not just patience ;) but also about love, joy, how to be a good parent, and how to be kind when you want to be anything but. You push me to be the best I can be, and to think beyond what I have always known. You have always been honest with me and loved me even when I felt unlovable. You are truly a gift that has been given to me. I am so thankful that we found one another again- even if it took 15 years to get here.

Just a side note: Something I have learned... you never stop learning about your partner. Today, I learned that is it dangerous to take Nick to Lowe's... I never knew how much he loves plants.

It’s An Action Word.

 

Not too long ago, there was a little girl, She had a dream of growing up, falling in love, getting married, and having a family When you are young, it seems so far away and truthfully it looked much easier than it is. 

Well that little girl grew up, She fell in love with a man that she never saw coming. She met him when she was a sophomore in college, but they didn’t fall in love until about 15 years later. It was fast- and many probably questioned what She was thinking, especially if they had known all that he had been through in the years prior. But honestly, to her, he felt right. He was funny, quirky, frustratingly smart, and he could handle her big personality- never letting her walk all over him. He was what she had been looking for, for so many years. 

 But she found something- it’s not easy.

She always knew a lot of things about love, She knew that it wasn’t perfect, She knew that she would have to choose to love her partner over and over again. Truth to be told, She had experienced it before. But Nick, Nick was different than before. To her, he was electrifying. All it took was one look from him and she could feel it to the tips of her fingers. His words- and intelligence- and his heart were what she had longed for. They could spend hours having deep conversation about whatever and while he would tell you “I was just having a conversation,” She would end up arguing because let’s face it she was stubborn and wanted to be right. So, they go married. 

That little girl was me. We have been married now for 10 months and a day. It has been such a roller coaster and I have found that my definition of love has changed over the year.

Love is sharing a bed with someone- this is much harder than it seems… I never realized how much I love my space. Love is waking up to tell someone that you love them as they leave for work- and you are not a morning person. Love is taking their children to the park, or buying clothes, or making dinner. Love is letting the kids help make dinner- which let’s face it, if you have children you know that we love it when they help but it take 2-3 times longer than it would have had you just made dinner. Love is the smile on a child’s face when they see you coming. Love is the little kisses and glances across the room when no one is looking but the two of you. Love is the walking or driving in silence holding one another’s hands. Love is watching a horror series on Netflix(that actually turned out to be better than I anticipated- though I did have a few nightmares from it, definitely recommend it.) Love is buying a fall wreath because you know it would be meaningful to your partner. Love is the playful laughter and for us, the different voices, dances and music that gets played. Love is so much more than that little girl could have imagined. 

While it is so wonderful, it is also very hard.

Love is holding that person when they are upset. Love is understanding when they are dealing with past traumas and being present for them having no clue what to do except to love them. Love is wanting to pull your hair out because you are so frustrated with your partner but you don’t. Love is taking a walk so that you don’t just annihilate your partner with hurtful words (because let’s face it we know how to hurt with our words). Love is naming when you are wrong. Love is recognizing when you have used your words to hurt your loved one because you feel hurt. Love is getting the help that you need. Love is standing by someone while they get that help. Love is fighting through the tough moments. Love is giving one another space to breathe when you feel like you’re suffocating. Love is saying “whatever you need to do” when your partners dad has a stroke and they need to be with them instead of you. Love is staying when it might be easier to just walk away. 

Love is not easy. And love is often a choice.

 Over my many years of ministry, I have watched people love one another well and even now as I watch people lose loved ones, I watch how the definition of love is changing for them. Caring for their loved one as they walk through this final stage of life- doing whatever they can to make it easier, allowing their partner to know that I am here and I love you. 

As I think back on my life- that little girl had no idea what life had in store, but she did figure one thing out…

Love is worth it. 

And while is definitely not easy, I would say that it’s worth the pain, struggle and sometimes heartache. It is an action word whose definition is ever-changing. It is worth the time that it takes to find, and it is definitely worth not settling for. Find the one that makes your heart sing- even in the midst of the chaos. Find the one that you want to fight for (and with- sometimes fighting can be fun). Find the one who will also fight for you. 

  Marriage and love are not easy roads- but they are sure full of adventure and complications that make it all worthwhile.

The Road in Front of Me

I have always been fascinated by roads. Not in the design, build, or types of roads, but just simply the road.

When I was in college, I initially fell in love with the road because my college boyfriend and I would take drives through the country in Putnam, Smith and Overton county. We often found ourselves there when we just needed time to talk or even just to drive quietly holding hands, because a dorm was definitely not the place to be able to do those things, it’s never quiet! We would drive for hours, getting lost just so we could find our way home. I used to say “All roads lead back to Cookeville.” It really did feel that way. But we always found our way back and we rarely had to turn around, maybe all roads do lead to Cookeville?

We laughed on our travels, cried, got frustrated, likely yelled a couple of times, got scared one time on one particularly creepy road (yea, we turned around that time!), and just really began to understand one another better. We always knew that taking a drive would give us the time to work through whatever we needed to work through. I began to really see the true man, his passions, his hopes, his dreams. While I had fallen in love with him rather quickly, I inadvertently fell in love with the road in the process. 

You see, I didn't drive until I went to college. In fact, I got my license at 18, and the only reason I got it then was because I didn't want my younger sister to have her license before me. She was a bit more motivated than I was apparently. My sophomore year of college, I took my car with me to school because I had an off-campus job. Those first few months, I was terrified. I was afraid that I wouldn't figure this out, but I did, and I never realized how much I would love the freedom to be on the open road with the windows down, air in my face, heat on my feet and the music to sing along to.

After I broke up with my college boyfriend, I began to take those drives by myself (don't worry, I always made someone aware of where I was headed or I would take someone with me). I would take those old familiar routes, but then I began to try new routes, just to see where it would take me. Again, causing me to fall more in love with the road than I ever knew possible.

When I decided to go to seminary, I chose Asbury, for several reasons. One, it allowed me to remain in Cookeville working as a youth minister, and taking classes online. Two, it was an easy drive from Cookeville for those classes on campus. Over the years that I was in Seminary, I began to appreciate the drives to Asbury because it gave me a complete 4 hour drive to think, pray, be. That was until one of my final semesters where I had to go every Thursday for a class. That drive got old real quick, 8 hours in a car every Thursday. I didn't always like the road at that point. But interestingly enough when I needed to clear my mind, I would still find myself driving down that old familiar road headed often towards Waterloo.

When I moved to Murfreesboro, I quickly learned where everything was because taking a drive was always a good way for me to unwind and take a deep breath. The road has always been a place of peace for me. In fact, I have a friend who understands when I need a moment of peace because I will say "I am going for a drive." She doesn't question, she just knows. 

To be real, the road hasn't always been kind, as I have had car accidents, driven in snow and ice and dealt with the elements, and you know how much fun that is! I have experienced foggy days where you can't go any faster than 20mph on the interstate. Yet, I always find my way back to the road. 

This love affair that I have for the road still holds true today. When I find myself on a road going somewhere in particular or even going no where but where the car takes me, I find myself. I find myself here after I see a thought provoking movie, or when I have a sermon to write and just can’t find it. I find myself here when I have a hard day, sad day, bad day, great day, or even days filled with epiphanies. The road has often become my place of refuge. And often it has become the place where God meets me. 

Throughout my 14 years of driving, I have taken many of drives:

Some with people that I initiated, ( it’s a great place to talk about life and honestly a great place to get people talking), some I didn’t. 

Some I have experienced great adventures or terrifying moments, like the time my friend Adrianne and I encountered a massive dog on a country road in the middle of Overton County at night and thought it was a Yeti. Yea, that scared me to death!

Some I laughed until I cried. 

Some I just cried. 

Some I sang at the top of my lungs as the music came over the speakers. 

Some I drove in complete silence because I had nothing to say. 

Some I listened, some I spoke. 

Some I got angry, and some I sat humbly. 

Some I felt a sense of awe and wonder as I saw the mountains unfold in front of me or that moment when I come over that hill in Fairfield Glade, and see that steeple of the church that I call home. And I think, it’s so good to be home.

Today, on this Good Friday. A day that has culminated in remembering the suffering and death of Jesus, in the midst of the life around me that continues to move and change with each new moment. I find myself longing for the road. Longing for the place of refuge. The place of peace. The place to breathe. So I go. Not for long, just long enough.

In every moment that I find myself there, the road has met me again like an old friend. It’s like it says to me, “Here we are again. Take a deep breath. Take in what is around you. Look in the rear view mirror once in a while when you are changing lanes. Otherwise, look forward. Keep going. and when you stop, I will be here when you need me again.”

As I travel down these roads, it's almost as if God has said to me, "I am here. Take a deep breath, I have you. Step away from it all for just a moment, and hear these words that have been spoken over and over again, "My peace I leave you. My peace I give you..." 

May it be so, O God, in each of our lives. May it be so. 

Mister Rogers Still Surprises Me!

I picked up my iPad tonight to read for the first time in a while. I opened it up and the first book that opened was The Simple Faith of Mister Rogers. Most people may not know this but I am fascinated by this man. I watched him growing up every day and I still watch him at times today. Most recently, a couple of movies have come out that reminds me why I look up to this man. He makes me want to be a better person. He makes me want to look at my life and work on my relationships with people and my relationship with God. He challenges the way I think, the way I interact with people, and even the way that I respond to my anger that dwells up within me.

Tonight as I read, I found myself again drawn to him in a new way. The author was writing about how she and Fred exchanged letters that contained different ways that’s they could pray for one another, and it would eventually move to praying for their friends, I must admit, I am a little jealous that she got to have these interactions with him and I didn’t, but I won’t hold that against her. 😉 As she finishes this chapter that was about prayer, she writes: “And so with that Fred was handing down another toast stick: Prayer is not only a daily discipline that deepens our relationship with God; it also provides a way for us to be together in our aloneness.” 

In the midst of this isolation, I find this to be a very profound and comforting thought... definitely something to think on and maybe expand my thoughts on in the future but for now, I think I want to sit with it. See where it takes me. Where does it take you?