After Noah’s injury as an infant, seizures ravaged his body for over a year. On his worst day he had 32; I remember not only because it was the highest number we’d seen but because the day before had been nearly perfect as we let him splash in the kiddie pool for the first time. After nearly a dozen medications failed him, desperation pushed us into action, and we started Noah on the Ketogenic ... View Post
Faith to Pray (When You’re Not Sure Your Have It)
I gave birth to the most perfect, pink barrel-chested baby almost nine years ago. The doctor called me a rock star for lasting past 9 CM for my epidural. (Natural child birthers and other Wonder Womans, please give this win to me.) Four months later I dropped him off at daycare and kissed that precious face goodbye, walking into the drizzle of a gray April morning. The next time I saw my son he ... View Post
Breathing Lessons: Hope When You’ve Lost It
Last night my seven-year-old son, Avry, couldn’t find his breathing medicine (his inhaler and spacer). It’s a daily struggle for him, even though we’ve given him his own container for it and a storage place in the family room. But he’s seven, and sometimes he’s acts like it. By losing things. We were late for bed so I added a few comments like, “How can I trust you if you can’t take care of it?” ... View Post
Summer Reading Worth Savoring
My favorite summer sport has already been reading poolside. Sometimes when I’m feeling especially sporty, I’ll toss in a quick dip into the cool blue water, but typically I stay tethered to a towel-covered lounge chair. My cardio is page turning. And with these books, I couldn’t turn the pages quick enough. If you’re following me on Facebook or on Instagram, you know I read a lot. And a good book ... View Post
The Summer of Sadness: A Hope for the Brokenhearted
Sometimes, in the midst of what should be holiday joy, we feel bound up by sadness. And scrolling through social media to see giant red, white, and blue hair bows; coordinating family portraits; and smiles bright like fireworks can make us feel as though our toes are sifting through ashes instead of beaches. If that is you, friend, I have been there. As I’m immersed in writing my memoir about ... View Post
Diving into Grace
I lay squinting in the sun, eyes half closed, toes woven through the thick plastic threads of the lawn chair, and I listen to splashes and laughter. I can hear my boys above the ripple of the crowd, their sweet voices cast into summer air. “Mom,” my redhead shouts, “come into the water and play with us.” I toss my arm into the air and wave back, but it’s not the response he’s looking for. I know ... View Post
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