faith, Grief

On giving advice to the grieving

I’ve been given a lot of advice over the past few years. Most of it amounts to how I should be feeling, how I should be parenting and how I should be looking to Jesus since the death of my son. Most of it is annoying. I am left with a vague desire to say something. Because, really, there ae…

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culture, education, faith

Frozen gifts

So, on New Year’s Eve, the kids and I drove all the way out to Creston, IA to watch Frozen with my husband. It’s about the beautiful princess Elsa who has the weird (and somewhat useless) power to freeze things. Once I got over that, I enjoyed the movie. And the poor princess locked away in her room as her…

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faith

My one resolution

A new year, a clean slate. A time when we seem driven to declare the things about ourselves we don’t like and want to improve. Make steps toward our dreams. And otherwise do what we have failed to do year after year until we find ways to side step around it. And decide not to set any resolutions. Or to…

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faith, family, holidays

The highs, lows and constancy of Christmas

And now . . . a guest post from my husband. The First Christmas My first Christmas memory comes before age six. The anticipation for myself and the other two foster children, they were to be adopted by the family, had been building for weeks. The tree was a beautiful dark green with sparkling lights, tinsel, ornaments and a sea…

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faith

From one father to another in grief

Troy, a grieving father who lost his son not too long after we lost Tiggy, left a comment on my post sharing some of my difficulties this year. My husband started writing a response to him, but when his word count ended up longer than the original post, I thought perhaps it should be a post of its own. So…

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faith, Rural life

Perserverence and hope

For some reason, I started off this season optimistic. Maybe it had something to do with the rain. After watching the crops wither and die, the ground crack under the unrelenting sun and scrambling to get hay for winter, rain was life. And though the cows didn’t get pregnant on their last trip to the bull, I had some encouragement…

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