Love Letters in the Sand

 Haven would be starting his senior year on Monday. 

As anyone who has walked the dark road of loss knows, grief hits at random times. In the early days, it’s a constant companion. You’re never NOT thinking about it. 

As time passes, you’re able to have more “good” days than bad. More thoughts of gratefulness for who you had than the fact that you don’t have them physically here. 

It’s easier for those moments of gut-punching mourning that seem to come out of nowhere to take you by surprise. 

Something struck me this morning that I hadn’t thought of before. I have a picture of Haven’s name in the sand as my screensaver at work. For the first time ever, since we started this beautiful collection in 2009, I wondered how long those precious letters stayed. 

How long before the snowfall covered up his name in Antarctica or animal tracks left their mark over it in Africa? 

How many people in Myrtle Beach walked by and thought to themselves, “I wonder who ‘Haven’ is?” 

Dear ones have carried our son around the globe, and it never hit me that his name was written there for a short time and then it was gone. 

Just like he was here for a precious short time…and then he was gone. 

But we have pictures to give those gifts of love in the sand and snow and rocks permanence. And we have the memory of carrying him for 8 months and holding him in our arms for one brief day to sustain us until we’re together again. 

Yes, His life here was fleeting, like letters washed away by the waves, but it continues to have meaning.  

He would be starting his senior year of high school this year. How my heart wonders what he would be like. As I shopped with his brothers, I couldn’t help but think about what he would like. What would his favorite color be? Would he look more like Owen or more like Mia and Wilson?

My friend Kelly Gerken from Sufficient Grace often talks about the “sacred dance of grief and joy,” and I love that picture. There’s grief in the beginning of the school year that would be his last. In the wondering. 

But there’s joy that he was here. He lived. He has purpose. And best of all, we will see him again, and this time it will be forever. 

Even the Changes Change

🚨 Sappy Post Alert 🚨 

Amelia moves back to Columbus tomorrow for her senior year at Ohio State. 

While my feelings aren’t as overwhelming as they were the first time we took her, I am still so sad. And then I feel guilty for feeling sad because she is alive and healthy and working hard to chase after her dreams - and that’s all so wonderful. 

I’m excited for the fun she will have and proud of how independent and resolute she is. It’s all good stuff and I am so thankful for that and I don’t take that blessing for granted. 

But. 

I will miss the everyday-ness of her just being here. Her shoes by the door and her purse thrown wherever. The “stuff” that means she’s around. 

I won’t feel embarrassed or ashamed for how sad I feel each time she leaves after a summer or Christmas break. Yes, I know this is what’s supposed to happen and what we raised her to do. But those years of pouring into her give me the right to shed as many tears as I want. 

And it isn’t just her. It seems like, once your kids become teenagers, time moves twice as quickly as it did before. 

Owen is starting college at Ashland University in a couple weeks. He’ll be living at home, which will be nice, but I worry for him because change is hard for him. Not only will he be starting his own grand college adventure, but his friends are also preparing to go back to their schools, most of them a distance away. 

Wilson is also going through a transition, having recently decided that soccer wasn’t fun anymore and The Beautiful Game wasn’t so beautiful anymore. For a kid who has played since kindergarten and a family that has had soccer players for the past 14 years, it has been a sad season. 

We’re so proud of him for taking his time and really praying and thinking through the decision and confidently choosing what he felt was best for him. 

And finally, though it’s not a change we’re going through, as the school year approaches, it’s never far from my mind that our Haven would be a senior this year. Some milestones sting more than others and this one seems to be a painful one. 

I am more grateful than ever for a God who never changes. He is the one thing I can count on to stay the same, always. 

Making Peace With the “F” Word (Or Not)

 Fat. 

That’s the “F” word in question. 

There are other, possibly kinder, words that people say, like “bigger,” “heavy,” “plus-size.”

But let’s be honest - they all mean the same thing. 

So, as a person who falls under that particular descriptive umbrella, there’s a bit of a tightrope I walk. 

There’s a lot of talk about loving yourself, accepting yourself, being gentle with yourself. Self care, and on and on. And it’s not shocking that I struggle in that area. 

Because there’s also the fact that I know this is not healthy, it’s not fat-but-fit, it’s not…okay. 

How do you “love” yourself while also knowing you need to change? How do I give myself a break or be gentle with myself when tough love is probably what I need most? Being too easy on myself is what got me to this place. 

This is the part of the post where you would expect me to bust out with some wisdom or an answer. 

Spoiler Alert: I don’t have any. 

I’m just here, in this space, trying to come to terms with being f-a-t and accepting it while seeking motivation to make real change. (I’d settle for the “c” word: chubby. 🤷‍♀️😂)

The only thing I know for certain is that the Lord promises that His mercies are new every morning. 

I’m a work in progress, no matter how snail-like the progress may be.