Oh, my dear readers.
How often I have wanted to sit down the last three months and tell you what was on my heart.
I am in a different house.


In a different state.
The transition was…..well, horrific, to be honest.
Heart wrenching, life changing, horrific.

But now that my life has resumed a somewhat small peaceful movement after tidal waves that engulfed it and left me gasping for grace to speak, and mercy to give, and glimmers of hope that seemed so far away, I am back.

And if you have ever been through moments or stretches like that in your own life, then you know that when it all settles down, and you look back, you still, STILL see the hand of God in the midst of it all.


Things are very different now, as we have gone from a family of five in a large house, to an extended family of six in a very small house by comparison. My dear sweet Mom has had physical issues over and over and over again, and at this time is currently unable to live alone.

We had moved to South Dakota for one week when we came back to MN to visit and found her with a severe case of Bells Palsy, unable to drink or eat properly, unable to see, unable to use her right hand or foot very well. That was the beginning of the trauma time, as we spent hours in hospitals, putting her on different medications, moved her in with us, then watched her develop other issues that made it impossible for her to walk, or do things on her own.

My children suffered as she suffered.
I desperately tried to keep things together.
Boxes sat unopened for weeks.
Church was simply impossible to attend.

Honestly, I often felt at times that I was swimming through an endless ocean and sure that I would never again see the shore.


Those days are over now, and in the midst of the pain, and struggle, the intense feelings of grief and upheaval, there were some things I learned and wanted to share with you.

*Never lose hope. Really. Never lose sight of the fact that all things happen for a reason. You may totally and completely and almost hopelessly lose sight of that again and again. But try not to.

*The shore will, eventually, come back into sight. Make sure you are setting aside time to sleep, to rest, to also focus on what you need, even if that means sitting in the driveway at midnight, with the car turned off, and tears running down your face so you can have a touch of privacy.

* Work together with your spouse or loved ones instead of letting those times come between you. Thank them for holding down the fort. Hug them even when all you want to do is be left alone. Let them know you appreciate them.

* Take a deep breath and spend a little time in fresh air. It doesn’t matter how cold it is, it is a great recharge for those moments when you think you simply can not do what you have been asked to do.

*Finally, know eventually the time will end. Love who you have been given, walk through (or crawl through) the trial time you have been given, and don’t. lose. hope. Look at the new people in your life that have strategically been placed there, and thank God for them. Thank them. Repeat. As you look back over the time of trial you can see the threads that were woven that held everything together even when you were falling apart. Write those down and keep them somewhere safe where you can pull them out and remind yourself of how things WERE.


Today as I sit on my porch on an unusually warm South Dakota day and look around me, I see the trees are beginning to bud. Birds are coming back, and the grass is slowly greening. Months have passed and I did not even know it. Mom is slowly gaining strength back and that is good.
Boxes are slowly being put away.
Life is moving forward.

It is Spring, with all the hope and beauty and peace that comes with it.

I hope you feel it too.
It is good to be back.

Blessings to you and yours,