a joyful affliction

This is Part 4 of a four-part series. Click to read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3. From the time I trusted in Jesus, about age 24, I had a nagging feeling that I would die at age 40. That’s morbid, I know. I never lived in fear under it, rather in a spirit... Continue Reading →

the hardest thing we’ve ever done

"After a long goodbye at the agency, we kissed his sweet cheeks one final time, and drove home. In all our life, this remains the hardest thing we’ve ever done. We loved him in a way that we didn’t even know existed. In our hearts, he will always be our son." #AlwaysAnchored #adoption #adoptionloss

waiting well

"God’s best gifts to us make us look to Jesus—and make us look more like Him—after we receive them." #AlwaysAnchored #adoption

Will He really do it?

"I confessed this to the Lord and jotted a quick prayer to end my journaling: 'Lord, root self-sufficiency out of my heart!' Now, honesty requires me to admit that I don’t think I believed God would actually do it. And if He did, how hard could that be, really?" #AlwaysAnchored

memorial stones

In the Old Testament, after a significant event in which God's hand (and sometimes his voice) was evident, we see people erecting a memorial stone to mark the spot. Over the years, I've had friends who did something similar; perhaps they marked the birth of a new baby or an unexpected miscarriage with a piece... Continue Reading →

the lesson of the trees

It is April in Georgia, but it feels suspiciously like autumn in the Midwest. The grey, wet clouds have given way to droplets sliding down the floor-to-ceiling windows that surround our dining room. With breakfast spread on the table, our newborn son sleeping at the other end of the house, I note the weather: high... Continue Reading →

anchors in the storm

Throughout this entire stormy life-season, my heart's desire has been that this trial wouldn't be wasted. By that, I meant that I wanted to suffer well and for people to see God and His faithfulness in the midst of it. I am so thankful that He has already given me two opportunities to peripherally enter... Continue Reading →

missing micah

I think about him every day, the boy we called our son for a mere week. Without effort, I can recall his sweet coos, the color and smell of his skin, the sound of his cry. (Thankfully that memory no longer wakes me in the night.) Every day, my mind drifts to his long, scrawny... Continue Reading →

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑