Breaking the Silence

It really just started out as taking a break

over the summer to spend time with my family.

This whole not writing thing.

Then I realized it was a bit more than that.

A time to let God speak to my heart.

A time to speak to the hearts of others in my life.

A time to use my words more in other ways.

In prayer. 

With Him.

At home. 

With family and friends.

So I took the time.

I planned to start writing again once school started.

And I tried, but the words got stuck.

You see, right about that time some things happened that 

have been tough for me to talk about let alone write about here.

These things have challenged me in every way possible.

And I really didn't want to write about it.

Then I couldn't write anything.

So continued the silence.

I really miss writing.

I know that to begin again I have to break the silence on the hard stuff.

It was really difficult to do that with friends,

but I am so glad that I did.

Not only have they been so loving and supportive,

but it has given me a chance to do the same for others.

Being vulnerable opened that door.

Maybe I could be ok being vulnerable here too.

So looks like it's time to share.

So today is the first step.

Where I say...

Hello again, friends.

How I've missed you.

 Blessings,

I Lost My Words

Last week I lost my words. 

For a whole week I couldn't write. I tried a few times and sat in front of a blank screen and...nothing. The words wouldn't come. So I stopped trying. I knew why. 

Father's Day. 

It's a day I have dreaded for the last 17 years and has been complicated for so many more than that. Every one of these 17 years my father has chosen to not be a part of my life. 

You would think that maybe after a few of those years it would get easier. But it doesn't. I mourn each year. For a father not passed but missing from my life just the same. The mourning period begins the same time every year. When the commercials begin to appear on TV. You know the ones. About the superhero dads without the capes. About the dads pushing the bikes without the training wheels. About that same time the cards appear in the stores. The ones that thank the dads for always being there. The ones that talk about unconditional love. 

Blah. Blah. Blah.

Then the actual day comes. And I am caught between celebrating with all those I love who have such wonderful fathers and the unbearable ache within my heart because that space is empty in my life. I hurt for my friends who have lost their fathers to death and wonder would it be easier for me then. Because if my father was dead at least it wouldn't be by his choice that we were separated like we are now. And then the guilt waves over me as I actually thought of him and death in the same sentence. 
I am horrible. 
Father's Day sucks.

There is no ease in this day at all. It is the one day I go over in great detail every conversation...every action...looking for the great offense I have committed that would cause my father to fall out of love with his daughter. 

me. 

Throughout the day I have to put the mask on to hide the immense pain. I struggle to hold in the tears on the way to church and almost break down when my friend asks how I am. 

Inside my head I repeat over and over...hold it together. Hold. It. Together. Smile a little bigger so no one knows. I release just a few of the tears on the way home. Only a few. I am too afraid to let more escape as I might fall apart. 

I. Can't. Fall. Apart.

I have dinner with my guys. Laugh a little. Smile's still there. Then D hugs me. In that one moment it all falls away and I can't find that damn mask and the smile just won't come. And I want to punch something. Anything rather than cry. And I break. Feeling like pieces of me fall all over the floor of the bathroom where D has unlocked the floodgates with one touch. Everything that I have been holding back for a whole week. Or maybe the whole year. I don't know. I am blinded by the tears and the words are all jumbled together. Weeping. And I think I won't be able to stop. Ever. Broken.

And in my heart I know all the things that everyone always says to me. That I am loved by my heavenly Father. That I deserve love. And so on. And most of the time there is peace in that. And I am secure in that. 

Except on Father's Day.

On this day more than any other day I just wish he'd love me again.

It's not that day anymore.

So I decided to try to write through the tears. 

And I found my words again.
They aren't pretty.
They are raw and real.
They are mine.

Miss you daddy.

Blessings,

Blog at Home Mom: Balancing Blogging & Motherhood

My friend Christin from Joyful Mothering has written an incredible book called Blog At Home Mom in which she shares about balancing motherhood and blogging. She offers great advice on setting priorities and time management and also shares about keeping Christ at the center and glorifying God in every area. 

This is my favorite quote from the book:

She wrote the book to speak to the hearts of writing moms, but also to help fund her traveling expenses to Ghana to pick up her adoptive daughters. 
You can read more about her adoption story here.

You can purchase Christin's book here:

Amazon.com - Blog At Home Mom

Blessings,

My God Sized Dream

I have sat down at the computer about a thousand times in the last week to write this post about my dream. I wouldn't have guessed how hard it would be to actually put it into words, but I have to admit that it has been a struggle.

I have been serving in Children's Ministry for some years now and I absolutely LOVE it. I have the privilege of loving on and sharing Jesus with an amazing group of kids each week. There is nothing like it. Or so I thought.

A few months ago God opened a door for me to lead a Bible study for moms. To say that I was scared is definitely putting it lightly. I am more than comfortable leading a small group of 4th and 5th grade girls, but to lead a group of women was totally out of my comfort zone. 
So I did it scared.

Something happened those first couple of weeks that I just can't find the words to explain. Sitting around this table with these moms...God broke my heart. Not just for them, but for the moms of our church and the moms of our community.
The moms who hide behind the busy and get lost in the laundry.
The moms who feel discouraged and alone.
The moms who are seeking God and long for community.

My God sized dream is to be part of making that happen. 
A community of moms doing life together.

I don't know what that looks like or how it will happen, but I know that He does.
I am trusting Him to lead the way.

What I do know is: 

I believe God has created and called me to love and encourage 
children and moms through shepherding, teaching, and writing.

My friend Holley Gerth invited me to join a group of dreamers that she affectionately calls her God Sized Dream Team. What a blessing to be part of this group. 

We will be gathering each week on Tuesdays at Holley's to encourage each other and you to dream those God sized dreams.

Won't you join us?
What is your God sized dream?

Blessings,