The Gift of Life; Happy Birthday Dad!

Dear Dad,

We celebrated your birthday today.

It wasn’t the party we might have previously envisioned, and the circumstances were nothing we would have desired.

We weren’t at a restaurant of your choice. We weren’t shaking our heads as you pretended to scan the menu as if you’d actually try something different for a change.

We weren’t having a family game night, talking trash to one another as the cards fell across the table. We weren’t teasing lovingly commending your persistence even though you have a knack for coming in last place.

We weren’t even at your house because you’re not there. You’re not there and I know that’s the birthday wish that supersedes them all.

But you are here with us, which is a blessing in itself.

You’re here after that alarming text I received on the afternoon of April 4th.

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The Real Reason Why I Don’t Watch the Oscars

The Oscar’s were on this weekend, and I didn’t watch them. I could have. Years ago I would have. But for the 7th year in a row I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it.

In fact, I forgot that Sunday was the 89th Academy Awards until I happened upon a photo of Janelle Monáe in her dazzling gown. In the past that would have been enough to draw me in, but not anymore.  

Instead I kept the T.V. off., did some random stuff around the house, and after about 10 minutes of scrolling on Facebook the next morning I got a pretty comprehensive recap of what I missed:

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Hope for the Hurting: My Story of Healing After an Abortion

This isn’t about politics.

This isn’t a debate about government control.

This is about people.

Specifically women who, in many major circles, are placed in the category of the unthinkable. They’ve done the unimaginable and should be added to the list of the worst of the worst.

They’re talked about on Facebook like they’re heartless individuals who can’t see, feel, think or read. They’re often ripped apart by those who have never been in their position, yet jump to many conclusions as to how they got there or why they did what they did.

This is for the broken.

This is for the hurting.

This is for the lost, embarrassed and ashamed.

This is for the woman who needs to hear that she’s not alone.

This is for the one who needs to know there is forgiveness, freedom, liberty and boundless love in Christ.

This is for the woman who, like me, had an abortion that she regrets.

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5 Lessons of Hope…Even When It Hurts

This time last week I was sharing about my recent miscarriage. It honestly feels as though much more time has passed.

The rollercoaster of emotions has been very real, and as I run the gamut between sorrow, anger, grief, pain, peace, comfort, fear, and disappointment, hope is also making its presence known.

I can’t pinpoint all that I’m feeling at every moment, but I’m certain that these 5 lessons are ones I don’t ever want to forget.

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Miscarried Away

*To my precious pregnant friends, or anyone else for whom miscarriage is a trigger, please refrain from reading this post if you have any inkling that it will upset you. I appreciate your love and support, and regardless of what I’m going through know that I rejoice with you.* 

Inevitable Miscarriage

As I signed my name at the bottom of the discharge paper, my eyes fixed on those two words. I held myself together long enough to make it to the doors, but as soon as the wind hit my face the tears came hard and heavy.

I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t process a thing.

I couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

It wasn’t a dream. It was my harsh, cruel, and excruciatingly painful reality. 

We had lost our baby and my heart was shattered into a million pieces.

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