December 24 2025

Covered by the Love of the Father

Manger scene cross stitched on a tree ornament
Manger scene painted on a rock in front of the Christmas tree

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:6

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. John 3:16

In the shadow of the Angel’s wings

announcing your favor

and your burden

you were covered by the Father’s love.

 

In the shadow of the

“let it be unto me”

your acceptance of the isolation and questions

and pointing of fingers, and all the uncertainty

that your “yes” would entail

you were covered by the Father’s love.

 

In the shadow of the long trek through the desert

heavy with purpose and tired from the

privilege you carried within

You were covered by the Father’s love.

 

In the shadow of the closed doors

wagging tongues, and knowing looks

in your moment of need

you were covered by the Father’s love.

 

In the shadow of the stable

the last place you imagined life being birthed

alone and afraid- called to do this thing without

midwives and directions and a soothing touch

you were covered by the Father’s love.

 

In the shadow of that first cry

that broke forth

shattering the silence of 400 years

the pain in your body

and the joy and love in your heart

you were covered by the Father’s love.

 

In the shadow of those who came

to celebrate

and worship

who knelt, proclaimed and brought

perplexing treasures

you were covered by the Father’s love.

 

In the shadow of the flight

from this temporary home

to another home, far from where you

expected to be

you were covered by the Father’s love.

 

In the shadow of the years, you watched Him grow

never knowing what would come next

you were covered by the Father’s love.

 

In the shadow of the “it was not what I expected”

as you watched

prophecy fulfilled

salvation come

healing, wholeness and love break forth

you were covered by the Father’s love.

 

So, rest assured,

In this season of

              a hard “let it be unto me”

              heavy with purpose

              in the unexpected places your find yourself

              closed doors

             smelly stables

             surrounded by unexpected faces

             fleeing in the night

             in homes away from homes

             in the uncertainty of next steps

             of next year

             and what is coming

             or not coming

In this season of

              glitter and sparkle and

              lights

              when it may not feel as bright

              and shiny as you hoped

              it would

In this season of

              life and love

              that seems to highlight

              your loss and

             uncertainty

Know that YOU are covered by the Father’s love.

December 7 2025

Peace

Christmas tree in a living room-at night - lights sparkling

For unto us a Child is born,

Unto us a Son is given;

And the government will be upon His shoulder.

And His name will be called

Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 9:6

There are words inside.

I feel the weight of them

as I wake in the morning

move through the day

& rest at night.

 

I pull out a pen and paper

to capture them –

but on this early morning

dark outside

& soft lights glowing inside-

as I sit,

the words lose their

weight –

their urgency.

 

They are only words

& in the light and quiet

& stillness

of this moment

they will wait

they will have to wait.

 

The newness of this day

before anything begins moving

the hush of the world

outside my window

the soft glow of the lights

the fresh snow that made

everything clean and new overnight

the warmth coming from being

curled up in a chair

with a blanket & the kitty-

no need to rush

to move

to do.

 

The words are still important

but their weight has shifted.

No longer heavy

and pressured

tumbling over one another

to get out.

The are soft and gentle

waiting their turn to be released-

gentle as they step forward

into the light.

 

There is a peace

in the early morning

darkness –

often missed –

a comfort

that wraps around one’s

soul.

A hot cup of tea &

a warm sweater kind of feel

that we miss

in the “10 more minutes under the blankets”

& the rush to get the day started.

 

There is a peace in the presence

of the Holy One

who settles

with and in me

when the words become

weightless

the light shines in the

darkness

& the warmth overtakes the

cold.

There is a peace –

here and now.

There is a hope-

of a peace to come.

 

I realize…

it is not that

there is no peace

for my soul.

It is that I have

not paused

long enough

& often enough

to allow it to settle

on me

within me

beside me.

 

Here in the hush

of the early

morning

my pace has slowed

enough

that I am well aware

of its presence,

the gentleness of its caress,

how it fills me

with love &

gratitude

& hope.

 

There are words inside me

I feel them –

not weighty & pressured-

soft & gentle –

bringing a

quietness

to my heart & mind…

welcoming the One

who is Peace –

the one who soothes

my fractured soul.

August 24 2025

When the Words Didn’t Come

Red Lilies
Red Lilies

But His word was in my heart like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I was weary of holding it back, and I could not.

Jeremiah 20:9

When I say I don’t know where the year has gone, I really mean, I don’t know where the year has gone.  I last shared on this blog in January, and then nothing for the last 7 months.

The first four months were very busy with caregiving,  advocating, loving and losing. Some day I will go back and share about those months, but not yet. The next few months were busy with planning, organizing, paperwork, and trying to figure out what life, without my husband, would look like. Much of the summer was taken up with family and friends, enjoying people and events. Quality time and hugs and lots of laughter and just as many tears.  The last two months has found me coming alongside others, in palliative care, in hospital beds, loving and sharing from experience, finding new family and friends and sharing in their loss.  

It has been gut-wrenching and wonderful, intimate and joyful, full of so much sorrow and so much gratitude, love and loss, and grace upon grace.

There were times when I wanted to sit and write and times when I actually sat to write – but nothing came.  Just the general musings of the everyday.  In time, I was convinced that there were no words and nothing to say.  So, I stepped back and left it alone. And then, it all opened up. 

So here I am again, ready to share with you all.

When the Words Didn’t Come

When the words didn’t come

I thought,

“Oh, the weariness has been so much,

I need to rest.”

The tears fell and I thought

they spoke for themselves.

 

When the words didn’t come

I thought,

“There is so much to do, to organize,

to figure out –

I need time.”

I moved quickly and with focus

and I thought the weight of this great

responsibility

spoke for itself.

 

When the words didn’t come

I thought,

“The grief is so heavy

I need time to heal.”

I felt the loss and I thought

the sorrow spoke for itself.

 

When the words didn’t come

I thought,

“I need to find joy in the moment

and be so present-

make up for lost time.”

I found joy in everything and I thought

my gratitude spoke for itself.

 

Time passed.

Like yesterday and also like many years-

and the words didn’t come.

I sat, pen in hand

time set aside

ready and willing,

but the words didn’t come.

I thought,

“Maybe there is nothing to say.

Perhaps it has all been said before me.”

To a friend I said,

“The words have not come,

maybe there is nothing to be said.”

 

As I drove home in the dark

the words that hadn’t come-

they moved inside –

shifted –

so that I felt the weight of them.

Their presence was undeniable.

They spoke,

“Maybe it is not that there is nothing to say-

Maybe it is that you have been afraid

of what the words will say

if you let them speak for themself.”

 

Yes!  I knew it to be true.

The words need to speak –

there is much to be said –

whether I fear their truth

or their power.

 

The words didn’t come

Because they were withheld.

 

What relief to know there are words

and they will come-

if permitted.


Already the numbness inside has begun

to lift.

The words will come.

These are the words!

The Weight of Words

 

I allowed the words to whisper truth

in the darkness.

Truth, I knew to be true

the moment it was released.

 

There were words to be said and shared

all along.

I believed things spoke for themselves,

but I knew better.

Grief has its own vocabulary and

needs to be released.

 

Nothing speaks for itself in this season.

It needs to be

heard, acknowledged,

sifted through, felt and spoken,

written and received –

by myself and others.

 

The words are heavy when held in.

Powerful in a way that won’t allow my thoughts

to slow or cease-

that won’t allow sleep to come.

Someone must be a witness

to their weight and

if I won’t share them,

then I will be the one

required to replay them

like a movie reel,

day and night.

 

But once you put your pen to paper

and allow them to speak-

speak truth-

not the, “there are no words”,

but the truth of the fear of allowing them to run free.

Then you need not be their only witness.

Their weight decreases internally and sleep comes.

 

The weight of words belongs on paper

witnessed

held

seen

felt

taken and sifted through the experiences of others.

 

A weight shared

powerful in its truth

powerful in its ability to connect and build community.

 

I will be a witness to their weight

and I will sleep

and I will help build.

Witness

Now that I know,

I am so aware

of the mountain of words

waiting to be released.

Not patiently, willing to be released

one at a time.

But a pressured flow of words

that push hard against one another

to be released first.

They cannot wait.

They cannot afford to be

prim and proper

mannerly

saying please and thank you

And “oh no, you go first.”

They must be let go or they will implode –

the potential of the power they hold

lost

shattered into a thousand bits and pieces.

And so, they lose all sense of decorum

and press hard to overtake the

ones in front of them.

How then will I control this

out of control

flow of words that

frantically press to be brought forth-

to be released –

to be witnessed-

heard- seen – felt and experienced

Ah, but what if

I let them out in a torrent-

and don’t try to control

or censor or edit

What if I allow them to be

what they are-

Raw, real, beautiful.

What if I sit as a witness

rather than a critic.

Open. Willing.

& love these words just as they come.