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Growing Hope

As I struggle with losing my ability to do so many of my favorite pastimes, there are a few I’m holding tight to. Gardening is one of them. A sweet friend offered to get the seedlings I had been nursing into the ground for me, but I held tight to believing I could do it myself. I so much wanted to feel the warm earth as I babied my sprouts and seeds into the ground. I do not by any means have a green thumb, but have managed for a stretch of years to grow a number of vegetables for my family right in our backyard. I’m missing the Colorado sunshine, but trying to figure out what works here.

I don’t know what it is, but watching things grow has always felt so sacred to me. It truly is a miracle to see tiny dried out seeds change and grow into something beautiful. It brings me such joy. The warm soil, gentle sun, and fresh colors of green make me feel as if I’m in a breathtaking cathedral.

Too weak to stand, I carved out my own small slice of land and sat in the dirt, covered in afternoon sun, and gently pressed seeds and seedlings into the earth. Watching them sprout and grow bigger is bringing me so much delight and satisfaction. Here’s hoping for a harvest, but either way, the working of the soil has been therapeutic for me in beautiful ways.

What is it that you do that refreshes and cheers your soul?

Please leave me a comment, it lets me know you’re listening!

daily graces

Being Present

I am hurting in too many places to name; exhausted beyond staying awake for a few hours, and sapped of all my energy. What a gift to be so. I spent it all this weekend, and it was worth it.

I play a constant juggling game of shifting what things I can do, and how long I will need to recover. Any activity at all takes a pretty great amount of effort. This past weekend I did less calculating and more doing. Missing the days of doing projects around my house, I worked hard to make my front porch a welcome landing pad. Tending to plants, arranging welcomes, and repainting a forlorn mailbox left me tired, hurting, and so fulfilled. It was an accomplishment for myself, and it was a gesture of love I could provide my people.

At the end of the day, covered in soil and spray paint, I pushed myself even further to clean up and go out with my loves for dinner. I didn’t think I could do it, but the delicious food and sweet company spurred me through a wonderful evening. The following night, I pushed hard again to spend time with kind friends who invited us over. It would have been easier to retreat to the cool quiet of my bedroom refuge, but I fought to stay up and enjoy the company of loving friends. It was a beautiful evening together.

By Sunday my body was done being pushed, and I had to give in to the haven of my bed for some extra sleep, fluids, and help with my breathing. My bones and muscles complained at all I had done, but my heart was light. I’m so thankful for the opportunities to fight for more, and the strength Jesus has given me to keep taking them. Remind me when I need a push! These times are surely a gift I don’t ever want to take for granted.

Please leave me a comment, it lets me know you’re listening!

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Hard Fight

I am here.

Head down, fighting hard over a perilous week, but still crawling to stand to chant the victory cheer.

It’s going to take some time for me to recover, but I will get there. In my quiet spaces, know I am deeply grateful for every kind word, thoughtful gift, and whispered prayer. You are my people.

Please leave me a comment, it lets me know you’re listening!

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Glimpses

If you’ve known me very long, you know how special purple, rainbows, and butterflies are to me. Purple was our Ellie’s color, and on the day we buried her, her sister’s butterflies hatched way earlier than expected under the most perfect full rainbow painted across the gray July sky. Every time we see these things now, they are like a sweet hug from our girl, reminding us of her footprint on our lives.

As we celebrated her 8th birthday a few days ago, the mundane parts of a winter day were punctuated amazingly by the sweetest gifts, seeming to be perfectly placed just for us.

As I lay watching a movie with my loves, we all turned to grin at each other knowingly as a conversation about rainbows erupted in the middle of a suspenseful plot. My husband turned to me. “How many movies do you suppose they start talking about rainbows in,” he grinned. It was true. Specific, beautiful reminders of Ellianna Grace were purposely left in plain view for us on the anniversary of her birth. The others I was able to capture, to look back and remind myself of the goodness.

Purple and rainbow, in a dress fit for a princess!

A photo that popped up in my Instagram feed from Pitter Patter Art.

Life is sweet indeed.

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Surgery Blessings

I had a pretty big and difficult surgery last week, and have been plodding through a rather arduous recovery in the days following. I’ve not hardly been in the public eye since then, other than trips between hospital and home, and a few brief marathon efforts to participate in family activities. I’ve made attempts to clean up into pretty sundresses and lip gloss in lieu of the pajamas and heaps of pillows that have filled my recent days, but clearly I’m still sticking out like a wounded chicken. Or something.

Everywhere we have been, people have offered whatever they could to make things easier for me. They have cleared elevators for me; I believe I was crunched over in my wheelchair, hugging a pillow for dear life with tears streaming down my face when I heard a lady say, “you two go ahead, we’ve all been there.” People have called their children to move out of the way, given up seats, gifted anonymous flowers, held doors, and waited painstaking moments for me to take whatever time I needed.

This morning we waited at the end of the block near our house for our oldest daughter to march by in the holiday parade. Everyone was melting. The heat combined with the sickening humidity was almost enough to suck all the fun out of it. There I was in a crowd of sweltering people, and this tiny elderly woman came shuffling up to me and thrust a frosty red cup of ice water into my hand that she had walked back home to get just for me. I was almost speechless. It was such a selfless act, and I truly felt undeserving, especially considering all the miserably hot people around me. I thanked her profusely, and we all took turns sipping the cold goodness in the beating sun.

So many random people saw my hurting and my weakness this week, and they were quick and generous to act. It got me thinking though… what about the people whose hurting isn’t so visible? What about the ones who are more broken on the inside than out, and could also use a gentle smile or a beautiful flower, or just to know that they are seen and cared for? I guarantee they are all around us, and they may be trying to hide it just like me, but we shouldn’t have to look far to see another soul thirsty for a refreshing dose of encouragement, or an extra helping hand. I want to remember to look for ways to be kind, whether I can see that a person needs it or not. Chances are, they do.

More about my surgery misadventures later; for now let’s finish off this good long weekend with a renewed passion to be the hope this hurting world so desperately needs. I’d love to hear ways you are finding to spread kindness around you!

Please leave me a comment, it lets me know you’re listening!!!