Every day

I ran an errand before 7am this morning. It was still dark as I drove to the store, but as I drove home after having finished shopping, day broke. I saw light radiating across the sky, and I thought, “Every day the sun rises. Every day. Every.Day. Every day.” I kept repeating it, trying to wrap the magnitude of that simple thought around my mind. Every day the sun rises. Every day. Even though I don’t see it some days. Even though the darkness hides it, the sun rises. Even though a blanket of clouds may cover the sky, the sun rises nonetheless.

For some of you, that thought is amazing, exciting, and awe-inspiring. For others, that thought is overwhelming, too much to handle, too much of a burden. The spreading out of a new day feels painful, like the prying open of hands, arthritic fingers unable to straighten. The light of a new day isn’t a welcome sight, but a painful glare causing you to turn your head, eyes clenched shut in protest. A new day? No. Just another day of agony, of pain, of the same horrible situation. Day after day, the same thing. Day after day, no rescue in sight. Day after unending day.

You don’t see the light, dear friend. But it’s there. You wish the sun wouldn’t rise, in fact. How you scoff at the “Pollyanna’s.” If only they walked just one step in your shoes, right? Oh, my friend. DO NOT DESPAIR. I know you are weary. I know how you think hope is a thing of the past. But God has not forsaken you. He has not forgotten you. He has not found you a failure.

You are remembered. You are loved. You are His. The sun rising daily? It is but God reminding you of His faithfulness. Every day. Every.Day. Every day.

He who promised is faithful


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Running to His arms

Are you hurt today, friend? Have the words someone has spoken to you hurt you? Are you tired? Worn out, exhausted? Had enough? Has life gotten overwhelming? Are you afraid the multitude of plates you’ve been spinning are going to come crashing down on you?

Oh, I’m there with you, friend. Too many sharp words, too little sleep, and an over-filled schedule squeezes the heart and mind. The temptation to bury the barbs of hurtful words is hard to ignore. The commitments of daily life overwhelm, and our patience with others runs thin. My schedule, though filled with all good things, chafes the definition and boundaries of this season of my life. Are you with me?

The burden, whatever it may be, isn’t meant to be “pushed through.” It isn’t meant to be carried alone. As we face the cares and concerns of this life, feeling the weight of heavy things, let’s not fail to do this: run to the right person with the hurt. That right person? It’s Jesus. Run to God. Run to Him with the pain, the burdens, the stuff of life.


He is enough. My heart will sing.


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All things

Cleaning out my desk the other day, I came across an old clothes-shopping list for my kids. Quite frankly, it jolted me with a fresh wave of grief. My heart twinged as I stared at the list.


matt and jonathan reading2
Matt reading to his youngest brother.







Seeing my son’s name in writing sort of threw me, you see. There are so many things we take for granted: like writing our child’s name. How frequently we write their names…until they are gone.

More and more, I grieve for my other children. Siblings are often the “forgotten grievers.” I ache for their loss. I weep for the times they will never have with their big brother, the memories they will never make with him. I cherish the moments I witness of Matt’s siblings interacting with one another, for I know we are not promised tomorrow, and these seasons are short-lived. But these moments bring a pang of bitter-sweetness to my heart, for I long for Matt to be here among them, to hear his quiet, sarcastic voice intermingle with theirs.

Yet I seek solace and comfort from another small item. Not a list, but a bracelet. A bracelet that declares “With God all things are possible.”

Gold Silver Matt bracelet (3)

Many parents say, “I couldn’t live without my child.” Some of us, however, don’t get a choice. We do live without our child. Every day. I’ve now lived six years without my son. My children have lived six years without their big brother. Matt’s siblings carry a loss daily, but they, too, carry this truth:

All things. All things, even living with child loss, are possible.

All things, even living with sibling loss, are possible.

While many bereaved siblings are the “forgotten grievers” by our society at large, they are not forgotten by God, nor us, the bereaved parents. We remember. We see you. We acknowledge you. Gentle hugs today to all bereaved siblings.


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