My father died during COVID. Here’s what has helped the healing.
I lost my Dad one year ago today. And, if I’m honest, I’m sadder today than I was then.
I lost my Dad one year ago today. And, if I’m honest, I’m sadder today than I was then.
A few years ago, when my kids were little and exhausting, I realized I no longer had energy for drama.
Six years ago, I did something that would forever change my life. I started a gratitude journal.
New Years Day used to be one of my favorite holidays, but for all the wrong reasons.
This Thanksgiving, don’t let the good stuff go unsaid.
I don’t want a hand sanitizer faith. Two pumps and you’re done. Instant Jesus.
Some people will be committed to misunderstanding you. I’m sorry, but it’s true.
A few years ago, I endured three of the greatest pain points life has to offer: My father was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. My husband filed for divorce. And I discovered a Big Lie that ripped apart everything I thought I knew.
There’s no way God can use this. There’s no way God can use this. In many ways, I used to be the pessimistic version of Dorothy. But what I couldn’t see back then was this: God will bless the broken…we just don’t know when.
My father died on a Friday afternoon in late March at the very beginning of the COVID crisis. Letting go and healing in months of isolation is what I would describe as macro-grieving.