morning song: a poem

my feet drag, my breath comes in huffs. I sigh as i walk, burdened by my sorrows, clouded by their weight. morning dawns as i make my way, slowly, through these quiet streets. this familiar morning rhythm wakes me, tugging the sleep from my bones.

On growing older

I turned thirty this week. For me, birthdays come with an increase in introspection, but this birthday came unexpectedly with some grief. This year, rather than rejoicing over another year and a new decade of life, my thoughts swam with I-wish-I-could-have's and I-thought-by-now-I-would-have's. I thought by now we would have a family, my arms filled with littles. I wish I could be living overseas. I'd hoped we could settle and buy a house. I thought by now we'd have a little more figured out.

he is holding me fast

Keep me close. Hold me fast. These prayers have become my exhales; as natural as breathing. With each passing moment, with each mountain and valley, I become more acutely aware that there is nothing in me that can sustain my own faith.

Mother’s Day: thoughts on longing, flowers, springtime, and hope

Maybe today is a hard day for you. Maybe today reminds you of a loss of a child, a loss that felt like your very heart being ripped from your chest. Maybe today intensifies the longing you feel for a child and the grief that follows you because of this unfulfilled desire. Maybe today reminds you of the broken relationship you have with your children and your desire for redemption. Maybe today reminds you of the strained relationship you have with your own mother.

Fleeting sorrow; lasting hope

Even when I am bowed down by the weight of this world's brokenness (and my own), even when I see no way to fix my current situation or the world's fragile and hopeless state, I can look to my God, who sees all, who controls all, and who cares deeply about it all. Even when it seems like there is no hope for goodness in this world, even then he is actively working towards the redemption and restoration of it all.

honest thoughts about infertility

Infertility is the singular most difficult and lonely things I have yet to walk through. And that's one of the reasons why I've chosen to write about it. Because I know there are women (and men) in similar seasons of grief and waiting. And because I hope that the Lord somehow uses my words to meet you in this difficult place. So here is a jumbled assortment of some honest thoughts I've had [a stream-of-conscience-type-assortment], as well as some things I have sought to hold onto as I've tried to walk through this journey of infertility well. I pray my words would help you to feel known and remind you that even in the midst of your pain, there is hope.

on advental expectation

I've been holding a lot of hopes this year. A lot of expectations of what I had hoped 2020 would hold (a church, a baby, a home). At the same time I've been seeking to learn how to hope in a way that is true and brave and not fearful. Trying to not allow disappointment to make me hesitant to hope. The Advent season somewhat intensified these feelings, as I felt the expectation of this time of year.

how should we hope?

"Don't jinx it," I say to myself, "Don't get your hopes up. Don't think about it too much. Don't plan on it happening because then it won't happen." I find that when it comes to hope, my hopes range wildly between incredibly naively high to buried so low that they're practically non-existent. I have such a hard time finding an appropriate balance of hoping.

on wrestling with God

Vulnerability is terrifying. There's nothing like exposing the desires and fears of your heart (especially on social media) to make you feel like you're standing naked on a stage in a room full of people. That's how I felt when I shared a few week's ago about our journey of infertility. But I chose to invite you in, and this is why.

our story: on waiting for a child…

I share this journey tentatively, my heart a tangle of nerves as I present what still feels raw and unprocessed and unfinished. Most days my faith feels shaky and I'm not quite sure I fully believe the things I know to be true about God. But I share this journey in hopes that those of you who are in a similar place of waiting will know that you are not alone.

things that change and things that don’t

I didn't intend to take the whole summer off of writing, but that's what happened. This summer has been filled with change (both good and bad). God has been doing so much lately, and it hasn't all been easy. He has been changing plans and pausing dreams, revealing idols and misplaced identities, asking for surrender and deeper trust. But for some reason, even though so much has been happening, month after month, I have found myself without words.