Happy Birthday, Denbigh!

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Miscarriage | Infertility | Hope

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I encountered Jesus as a young child in a church pew in the balcony of an old country church. Through a lifetime of trial, I knew he was there. I did not always know or understand what he wanted of me, but I knew I was wanted. We could go through all of the pain and abuse of my life and unpack each tiny detail, but that is not what this is really about. I love what Frederick Buechner said, “Pain is not the biggest thing that has ever happened to you.” That is true. I have beheld far greater glory. As I clung to his word through all of this, I knew he was there.   My story about trying begins long before I began trying to have children. I tell you this because almost half of the population has been abused in some way. The attack on my uterus began when I was four-years-old. I spent most of my life believing that I was broken and I was crippled by shame. I carried that shame into every relationship I had. As I encountered people in the church, I never felt safe enough to ask for...
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Are you wanting your brain to form new, healthy pathways already? You are on the way to your brave future and your brain wants to travel in a familiar rut. It’s quite a bit of work to help your brain know that it is safe to operate in a new way.  I’ve been paving a literal path in my back yard. It gives such a great visual because you can see that you aren’t just laying down stones and walking. There’s ground to break up, roots to pull out, and a new sand base to be laid. I’ve had to chisel and break pavers to fit the path. There is a process of creating stability that involves repeated removing and replacing of stones.  We do this in our healing journey. Sometimes, the removing can feel as though our chest is on fire. The great and beautiful news is that we do not do this alone. God puts a fire in our bones that makes us long for healing. Reading scripture gives us strength, stamina, and comfort for the long days of work. We can rest in God’s presence along the way. Simply st...
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  A friend lent me a book. Theo of Golden. I had just begun reading it. It’s about an artist and people being seen. It led me to think about this friend I made on a pilgrimage in Israel. She is much older than me and darling. We are an unlikely pair, but our hearts are knit together. We were on buses, in gardens, on windy cliffs. I lit a candle in a monastery for her in Haifa, Israel after she fell ill. I photographed flowers for her. She is well now. She lends me books. Ingrid. As I thought about people that I pray for, I could see the depths hidden in their heart. I could see my friend Jenni breaking her alabaster jar in public spaces. She is writing a book. I pray for her fire to illuminate darkened rooms and hearts. I could see my brilliant, beautiful daughter not able to see how wonderful she is. I love her. She’s strumming her ukelele and talking to a cat. Hope looks so simple. Laomai. I could see myself sitting on deep things because they weren’t welcome in the market place....
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