Taking time to be present seems like a luxury…
It’s been exactly a year since we got The Call. In some ways, it seems like forever ago, in others, I can’t believe it has been a full 12 months. In the space of that year, I’ve watched the family transform: allowing memories to fill in spaces where a body sat, speaking freely of personality traits or quotes, choosing to celebrate a Christmas gift one last time without him.
by Abby Kelly
The second my feet hit the floor, I felt overwhelmed.
“Lord, the house feels like such a mess!”
Now, I’m a confessed compulsive cleaner. But I justify that little character flaw by saying, “I have two cats and a dog! How could I possibly keep up with all the hair?”
And…when I do see them? When I share in laughs and stories, when we talk about troubles or share advice…I remember. I remember that I miss them.
They are women that I would love to ask to be a guest writer on this blog. While I can’t do that (since they are with God), I will share some of their work and poetry. They are gone but shouldn’t be forgotten.
I don’t recognize the writing. I don’t recognize the return address. I rip open the envelope that came in the snail mail to find a hug on paper. There wasn’t a long note inside. Just a small quote and it was signed “thinking of you this week.”
What makes you who you are?
We string together experiences and lessons one by one like pearls. Some are born out of irritants, but they help us develop many beautiful layers of strength and courage. Others are timeless gifts of wisdom graciously given by those closest to us.
There was yelling, there was cursing, and kitchen cupboard doors being slammed—the argument? Something rather minor and nonsensical. It happened really fast; from 0 to 100 in about 2 minutes.
I often struggle when I see people respond to this question. Are they really praying? Is it just a nice thing we say to one another to make us feel better? Do we really believe in the power of prayer?
By Guest Author: Katie Donovan.
I am very ashamed of my thoughts now. I never really had a “real” exposure to addiction. What I saw was what was pictured in the movies, or on TV. We lived in the suburbs where “that just didn’t happen around here”.