Our oldest, our sweet beautiful girl who flutters into a space with a gentle graceful presence just turned eighteen in January. The one who was gifted to us in a time when grief and joy mingled and became almost one melody. My much loved father-in-law’s heart ceased beating while my daughter’s boomed steady and strong tucked under mine. Our hearts were breaking yet we had to find the courage and fortitude to keep moving onward. In the span of less than two months, we shockingly lost our dad and soon to be grandpa having to release him into the arms of Jesus while simultaneously welcoming with open arms our daughter who held the fresh scent of heaven. 

In this trying time, we had to cling to one another and to God, our roots learning to sway and bend and weather the storm. In the early years of parenting, our roots were forced to dig deeper into the soil of God’s unending love and day to day mercy. 

Time is an interesting thing, it seems to creep by in some seasons and fly by in others. All in all, time is fleeting and it is precious. In a matter of six years, our four oldest children will be adults and our little Hope will be a teenager. This season holds in it both grief and joy, converging into an achingly beautiful song. 

I feel that I am living in the delicate balance of remaining present and steadfast as our children go through the ebbs and flows and growing pains of childhood and early adulthood while also providing space and freedom for them to learn to spread their wings and prepare to fly. To allow each of them the opportunities to succeed and possibly even fail while also the assurance that we are here to love, support and encourage them no matter what comes their way. 

To mark the beginning of this new season, we have decided to plant a tree, a saucer magnolia. These magnolia trees are not evergreens like the familiar ones we see with white blooms in late Spring. They are instead deciduous, shedding their leaves in the Fall. At the first signs of Spring, this tree still winter bare proclaims its splendor with a punctuation of bright pink flowers as if a flight of butterflies or a flock of birds has perched on its branches. 

We will plant our small sapling opposite its dignified relative, our seventy plus year old rambling evergreen magnolia. A path to our home between the two trees and a front window view of the newest addition’s beautiful bright Spring blooms. Currently its tender root system can fit cupped in the palm of my hands. We will tend and protect this tiny treasure as it adapts to its surroundings and establishes a healthy root system. 

Audrey Hepburn was quoted with saying, “To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” A saucer magnolia is estimated to be at full height and breadth in about twenty years and I can imagine our family tree also growing in height and breadth. I can envision our future grandchildren growing up—playing, dancing, singing and reading under its branches. Sheltered by its shade and still awestruck by its Spring splendor.

My hope and prayer for you and for me, for my children and the generations to come is that like this new small sapling, our roots can become well established in God’s tender love and under His branches we may find shelter, solace and abundant joy. That even when the storms rage we can confidently trust that we are rooted and firmly held in His strong unfailing embrace. When life takes its toll, making us feel as if we are a caged bird who has forgotten their song, we can remember that we have been set free. Free to spread our wings and soar high on the current of our own God-given melodious song. 

“For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.” Ephesians 3:14-21 NIV

“but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Isaiah 40:31 NIV

–Anita Krizzan

“Leave your bags at the door”, that is the phrase impressed on my heart during my prayer time soon after the new year. Not just one word for the year but a sentence. This could have taken on a weighty or demanding tone yet I felt relief. It was instead a gentle, light and gracious invitation. The way a loved one might welcome you home after a long and weary journey. Taking your bags before entering the house and then pulling you into a secure, all encompassing embrace. All the burdens, weariness and weight from the journey rolling off, relief and comfort washing over all your senses. 

My word last year was freedom. In many ways through the year, God taught me what His freedom looked and felt like. He revealed this to me by his peaceful presence in very tiring times. As well as through his compassionate presence in past pain, giving me breakthroughs to more complete healing. God very tenderly revealed to me the ways I have functioned as a burden bearer most of my life and the ways it was beginning to take a toil on me physically and emotionally. The invitation to release my burdens into His more than capable hands was extended to me time and time again throughout this last year. 

Even so, I have struggled to surrender all that burdens me. This season has felt like walking with forced effort upon shifting sand. Between an ailing parent and children morphing too fast into young adults, things are changing way too fast. I want to hold tight as if in letting go I fear I will fall into a dark unknown abyss. Yet it is the burdens that I attempt to wear like ill-fitting armor that will eventually weigh me down and pull me under. 

A treasured memory comes back to me with the words, “Leave your bags at the door”. I smell the warm welcoming aroma of gardenias. The front door to my grandparents home opening wide. My grandpa greets me with a smile and takes me in his arms enveloping me in the biggest bear hug ever. A wave of relief washes over me and I breathe in his presence and his love. The weariness and worry sliding off my shoulders. My heart felt lighter, more free. I was home again. 

In this season of constant shifting sand, I can stand strong in the One who is and will always be my firm foundation. Resting in the truth that I am invited into a lighter way of living. Free to surrender my heavy load at the feet of Jesus. He unwaveringly and ever patiently waits to welcome me home into His stable, secure, all encompassing embrace. 

“Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.””

Matthew 11:28-30 NLT

I stumbled upon this prayer in the Lectio 365 app after receiving the words, “Leave your bags at the door.” It was confirmation for me that this indeed was a word from the Lord. My hope is that it will resonate with you as well. 

Holy Spirit, You make all things new. Awaken my heart to dream new dreams in the new year. I set aside any baggage or worries I have been carrying, releasing my heavy load, and finding home in your presence. I breathe in Your pursing love towards me. ~Amen

*This post is dedicated to both my grandpas as well as my great-grandpa. They all exhibited God’s loving presence in my life and I was lucky enough to have all three of them into my twenties. I am referring to my grandpa Jack in this post, the one with the sunglasses that I believe has an uncanny resemblance to Jack Nicholson. He was by far the best hugger especially as he approached the end of his life. 

**The photo above of a house is a depiction of my grandparents home, painted by a friend of my grandma’s. My grandparents home was a special place, a constant stability all throughout the shifting sands of my childhood and into early adulthood. 

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. -O’ Holy Night

 Flame of Hope                    

A thrill of hope seizes and surprises me, a flicker of joy warms my weary soul. 

May this thrill of hope create a spark that ignites into a flame. 

May I become an illuminator, carrying my small flame to the dark and lonely places, the worn thin, weary spaces, the wounded and hurting faces.  

The darkness surrounds me yet Jesus, light of the world, has come to pierce and shatter the night. 

—–

May the thrill of hope create a spark that ignites into a flame.

I look and long for daybreak, with tender mercy He guides my feet into a path of peace. 

The darkness surrounds me yet Jesus, light of the world comes to pierce and shatter the night. 

I am a child of the light, born of God, His fire in me burning bright. 

—–

I look and long for daybreak, with tender mercy He guides my feet into a path of peace. 

May I become an illuminator, carrying my small flame to the dark and lonely places, the worn thin, weary spaces, the wounded and hurting faces. 

I am a child of the light, born of God, His fire in me burning bright. 

A thrill of hope seizes and surprises me, a flicker of joy warms my weary soul. 

—–

“because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.””

Luke 1:78-79 NIV

“In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

John 1:4-5 NIV

This month marks ten years since I wrote my first post for Magnoliaheart. I began writing to share what was stirring in our hearts for adoption and to invite friends and family to join us on our family’s journey. 

Our daughter Hope has been home now for five and a half years. Her name really sums up the last ten years as we waited and prayed for her for more than four years and in bringing her home and all that has unfolded in helping her to heal and grow. Hope has grown so much, each new day she continues to surprise and delight us with her love and exuberant joy for life. 

It has truly been a journey of enduring hope, at times dark and uncertain, hard and heartbreaking yet we as a family have grown in strength and in faith. The addition of our daughter Hope has given our family the gift of much laughter and joy and we have learned to be more gracious and patient with ourselves and one another. 

I want to thank each of you for your continued support, prayers and encouragement through this last decade. This has been a gracious space for me where I have felt the freedom to come as I am and share my heart and our family’s journey. In sharing, I have discovered how much I enjoy writing and that it has been a hope-filled and healing outlet where I am able to work out my faith and learn to lean into God’s faithfulness and love more and more. 

I plan to continue to write as often as I am able and my hope and prayer is that you will continue to come as you are and that this space will be a gracious and welcoming place for you as well. May my overreaching message proclaim God’s goodness and the truth of who we all are, His beloved. 

From our family to yours, we wish you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! May your flame of hope burn bright and brilliant during this holiday season and in the New Year to come! 

If you are not on my mailing list yet and would like to receive my posts via email, you can subscribe by scrolling to the bottom of this post. When you sign up you will NOT be flooded with emails from me. Instead consider my posts as small surprise gifts from me sprinkled sparingly throughout each year.

I love hearing from you so if you’re stirred to do so, leave a comment by selecting the “Share your Heart” section below. As always, please feel free to share with a friend if you found this post to be an encouragement.

Sent from my iPhone

John 5:6 NIV

There are places of lack and longing, pain and rejection that reside in my heart and are written in my story that feel like cavernous holes, deep hollow spaces that echo loud, 

“Forsaken,

Abandoned, 

Unloved!”

Most days, I am certain of my identity in Christ and these voices remain silent, the truth of who I am and whose I am ringing louder. Yet, this winter my family has been sick often and I have also had my share of illness which has made me feel more vulnerable and in need of care. In my vulnerability, feeling more weak and worn down, these lies have begun to overpower the truth and the holes feel deeper and more cavernous as if they might swallow me whole and leave me feeling forever alone. 

A trusted mentor encouraged me recently that God desires to fill these holes and bring me healing and wholeness. I do want this yet feelings of doubt fill my mind and I am unable to believe, let alone ask God to heal and fill these empty, hurting places. These wounds have afflicted me for so long that I think I have let myself believe that they would be lifelong afflictions, a thorn in my side, burdens I must carry. 

God reminds me of the story of the paralyzed man who had been an invalid for thirty eight years yet even so Jesus see’s him and out of all the sick at the pool that day, Jesus comes for him. After all those years of feeling alone and abandoned, rejected and overlooked, Jesus asks him, “Do you want to be well?” I am sure the paralyzed man had his many doubts yet Jesus commands him to pick up his mat and walk. 

I believe Jesus is asking me, 

“Daughter, do you want to be made whole?”

Yes, Lord Jesus I do! Fill these holes in my heart and story. Make me whole again. You have come for me and you will never stop coming for me. You were forsaken and abandoned on the cross so that I will never be forsaken. You love me so much that you gave your life for me. I am yours, Jesus. These lies have no hold on me. Because of your death and resurrection, I am restored and redeemed. I am held and whole, forever in your arms of love. 

“Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?” “Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked.” John 5:2-3, 5-9a NIV

The pictures included below are a flashback to many of my favorite Easter memories. Each of these memories fill my heart to overflowing with so much joy and deep gratitude. The first begins with one of my first and most treasured childhood memories, my maternal grandma and I hunting for Easter eggs. The rest were taken between 2006 to present of our family as they have grown and as they continue to bloom into all that God has created them to become! 

May you know God’s peace and wholeness, His Shalom at an even deeper level this Easter season. 

He has Risen! 

He has Risen indeed!

Hallelujah!

As the seasons change and the snap of cooler weather transforms the trees from green into garnet and golden hues, I reflect back on the last few years and on how much Hope has changed. She came home to us at two, so tiny and afraid. Now at five, she is emerging into a confident, joy-filled ray of light to all who know her. 

Hope is currently in Kindergarten at a local elementary school where she is receiving the extra services she needs. To our delight, she is growing and thriving in many new ways. She loves taking the bus each day to and from school. While she has few words to tell us how she likes school, we find her happily singing each afternoon when she arrives home. A song always in this girl’s heart. 

As for my mama heart, I have mixed feelings. I am grateful for all the support Hope receives yet I miss having her with us. Between school and in-home therapy every weekday afternoon, there is little time left in her days. I am having to learn to focus on the quality of time we have together versus quantity.

I yearn for the simpler days when I had all my little ducklings under my wing. We were a team, always together. A sweet friend once told me that I had a shadow of bright smiles always following close behind me. Now life is more fragmented and though my children do smile often, they are no longer close at my heels. My stair step kiddos are growing big, gaining more and more independence. My two oldest are actually taller than me. The other three creeping up near daily, it seems.

While this is all good, my heart also aches. Joy and grief intermingling as I hold each moment close, while simultaneously allowing time, like golden flecks of sand to sift through my fingers. I am not meant to cling to but to savor and celebrate each moment as it comes. I can not hold on to the past nor reach too far into the future. 

I can dream big and seek out the hidden treasures inside each child’s heart yet I have little control over the choices and paths they will eventually choose. I am only given this moment and I am entrusted with five fearfully and wonderfully made hearts for such a time as this. My role is to nurture, call forth and bear witness to the beauty I see within. 

As I sit and soak in the rich and sacred space of the here and now, I sense God’s presence. His mercy and love tenderly holding the past, present and future. It is here that my heart begins to expand. With hope-filled expectation, I hold these treasures close to my heart, welcoming what is. Making room to behold His glory and goodness, shining like golden thread, woven in and through each precious moment. 

A prayer for our loved ones: 

“I want them to be encouraged and knit together by strong ties of love. I want them to have complete confidence that they understand God’s mysterious plan, which is Christ himself. In him lie hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.”
Colossians‬ ‭2:2-3‬ ‭NLT‬‬

As the plane took off I felt the all too familiar feeling that I was leaving those I love behind. I did all I could to hold back the tears. 

I remember this same feeling not so long ago, after only just getting to know our daughter, Hope. Robert and I boarded a plane back home, taking us across the wide world, leaving her behind. At that time, we were not certain when we would return to Bulgaria on our second trip to bring Hope home. We had to release any hold we had and surrender our daughter into the loving care of the One who is so much greater than our own understanding. We had to trust that she was safe and secure in our Father’s hands and that He would indeed bring her home to us. 

The beginning of April during Spring break, I had the pleasure of accompanying my youngest brother on a once in a lifetime adventure! Him and his family are moving to Ohio and he asked me to travel with him and his family pets (two rabbits and a dog) by car across the United States. His family took the train ahead of him. 

We set off early on a Monday morning and drove the longest stretch from California through Nevada, finally staying in Salt Lake City, Utah. On Tuesday we traveled to Cheyenne, Wyoming. 

On Wednesday we drove to Omaha, Nebraska. Then on Thursday we made our way through Iowa and Illinois, crossing the border into Merrillville, Indiana. 

On Friday, we took a much need break and had the amazing opportunity to drive into Chicago. There we soaked in the view of the skyline and stopped for the BEST PIZZA EVER—Chicago Deep Dish! Nothing can compare. 

On Saturday morning, we set off for the last leg of our adventure. Tired and a bit weary from the many miles of driving and staying in hotels mainly to sleep. Yet also feeling hopeful and excited to finally be reaching the place that my brother would now call home. His family waiting with anticipation, arms and hearts wide open to welcome us in.

By that evening we had arrived at our final distinction, Ohio. The place that I hope and pray my brother and his family can call home. A safe and secure place where their roots can settle deep and their hearts can find the security of a love that will always welcome them in. 

On the road, my brother and I saw many beautiful and interesting sites. The grander of the mountains, the great expanse of wide open spaces and the landscape drastically changing from state to state. We shared stories and reminisced over childhood memories. We talked about everything under the sun. My heart is full, as it was such a gift to have this quality and quantity time with my brother. 

The last few days of my trip , I enjoyed some hang out time with my niece, nephews, sister-in-law and brother. We had many laughs and special moments together. I was able to do a little house hunting with them and see some of the places that will make up the landscape of their new home. 

I will treasure these special memories always. Yet it was bittersweet to travel the long distance that will now separate our family from theirs. Each mile we journeyed, taking us further from the place we’ve always called home. Each leg of the journey, my heart having to slowly let go. Little by little, releasing my brother and his family into the hands of the God who calls them by name and has numbered each hair on their heads. The God who loves and cares for them far more than I can wrap my mind and heart around. His love knowing no bounds, traveling to the farthest reaches to bring His children home. 

As I flew across the wide expanse of our country back to California, I allowed myself to let go while simultaneously reaching out for more. With tender kindness, I was held in the balance, joy and sorrow only opposite sides of the same coin. 

My heart ached for those I had left behind yet I longed for home. I missed Robert and the kids and couldn’t wait to hug them all. I craved the familiarity and comfort that only home can bring. 

Even more so, a greater longing stirs within me, a deep rooted desire that even my earthly home cannot fulfill. My heart aches and longs for an eternal home. A home where my soul  settles in and roots deep and my heart finds the security of a love that will never let me go. A home that is far better than I can fathom this side of eternity. 

My heart often wanders and God’s presence can feel distant yet He sees me and He knows me. I can come as I am, no matter how weary, broken or battered I may feel. I have nothing to hide, no reason to run. He is patient and so kind. He never stops seeking after me. He is always near, always waiting. His love and delight shining on me. I need only to turn around and there He is, running towards me. His expansive wide-open arms waiting, ready to embrace me and welcome me home. 

““So the young son set off for home. From a long distance away, his father saw him coming, dressed as a beggar, and great compassion swelled up in his heart for his son who was returning home. The father raced out to meet him, swept him up in his arms, hugged him dearly, and kissed him over and over with tender love.” Luke‬ ‭15:20‬ ‭TPT‬‬

My mind races. My thoughts collide into one another. I feel powerless to stop the constant pounding noise. There is a storm brewing in and around me. It’s gale winds rage, they push and pull. This world is wild and uncertain. 

It is peace my mind craves. 
It is stillness my body longs for.
It is renewal my heart desires.
On my own, I am helpless. 

I reach deeper,
I grasp higher.
I seek after more,
more meaning,
more beauty,
more connection,
more striving,
more distraction. 

This reaching does not satisfy the unquenchable thirst. This grasping for more, it only depletes me. Leaving me hungry and hollow, parched and brittle.

Where can I go? 
Can I go down to the depths?
Can I reach up to the heights?
Even there, You are with me.
You hem me in, before and behind.*

Can abiding in Your presence be all that I need? 

Like a tree, reaching waters deep, rooting strong and stable. The storms they will come. I will sway and I will bend. My branches may break yet these wild elements will not uproot me. 

In you, I plant my life.
Your peace, seeps in.
Your grace, washes over me.
Your still waters, renew me,
sustain me, soothe my inner ache,
quiet my raging storm. 

I am a strong, established oak. 

My branches stretching wide, reaching high. My jewel colored leaves shining radiant in your glorious light.

I am shaded relief for a weary traveler.

I am a refuge against the harsh, unrelenting elements. 

I am a nourishing home for a growing family. 

I am a perch for a hopeful morning song.

I am rooted deep in your love. 

My inner life is hidden in the secure, unshakable grip of your eternal life-giving embrace. In your love, there is no beginning and there is no end. 

Only deeper,
only wider,
always more,
immeasurably more. 

“They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.””
Jeremiah‬ ‭17:8‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us,”
Ephesians‬ ‭3:17b-20‬ ‭NIV‬‬

*Psalm 139:5-10

A Note about pictures: I decided to include some pictures taken way back in early August. I’ve been meaning to do this sooner but the days and months seem to blend into one another and I’m now getting around to it. 

August 14, 2020, my parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. We had a simple, intimate (social distanced) gathering in our front yard under the shade of the magnolia tree. Three generations together—celebrating this momentous occasion. All ten grandchildren were there!!

A gracious friend took pictures. (Thank you again, Kelli!) It was such a beautiful and memorable day that we will always hold dear. I figured there could not be a better post than this one to share some photos from the day. 

Mom and Dad,

Here’s to 50+ years rooted in His love! You have weathered many storms together. We will get through this uncertain season as well. His love and care for us, our strong and secure foundation.

For me, joy has not been an easy concept to fully understand. Joy has felt like something I could miss if I was not paying close attention. Like a brilliant sunrise or a rainbow after a storm. It was breathtaking to behold but fleeting and intangible. 

In the last several years, I have begun to understand that joy runs much deeper and can be our constant and lasting companion. I have also come to understand that joy and sorrow are not separate from one another but are intertwined and in many ways joy is more clearly known when deep sorrow is experienced. 

I have experienced joy intertwined with sorrow on many occasions. In caring for cancer patients and their families and in different seasons of loss. One season that is etched into my memory and the fibers of my being was the year we lost my father-in-law. Now more than fifteen years ago, it still feels like yesterday. 

It was less than a week before thanksgiving and only two days after celebrating the baby shower of our firstborn. I was just a month and a half away from giving birth to our daughter, Grace. She would be the very first grandchild on both sides. Our whole family was overjoyed to welcome her. My father-in-law was no exception. When he would see me, he would greet me with a big hug and then cup my belly in his hands and whisper, “Hi, Gracie!”

We awoke to the call early on a Monday morning before dawn. I’ll never forgot my mother-in-law’s frightened words on the other line. We rushed to the hospital but were too late to say goodbye. He died suddenly in his sleep, there was nothing anyone could have done. 

We gathered with our immediate family and said our goodbyes around his silent hospital bed. He was no longer with us yet there was a pulsating presence that even in our deepest sorrow, joy was there and it felt tangible and palpable. 

I’ll never forgot leaving the hospital without my father-in-law and driving the short distance to my in-laws home. The sun was high in the sky, brilliant yet somewhat glaring and irritating. I remember thinking to myself, how could the sun shine so bright on such a dark day? How could life continue to move and breathe within me and all around me? It felt so wrong yet it also gave me a deep knowing that joy would not leave, even when the darkness felt thick and the sorrow unending. 

The year of 2020 has been relentlessly hard and there has been much to grieve. Loneliness has become a constant struggle for many of us. We as a nation have experienced great loss and heartache. Uncertainty and fear have felt at times like a dark, thick and unending fog that settles heavy on our hearts. 

Yet in all of this, we can behold joy because joy is not a fleeting feeling but a constant and abiding presence. True joy is not found in our circumstances, nor in people or possessions. Instead it is found in God who became flesh. Jesus chose to come for us, bringing His upside down Kingdom to a world desperate for rescue. Humbling himself so He could dwell among us. He took on skin, becoming acquainted with suffering and sorrow, radically living with and loving the misfits and outcasts. Laying down his life to bring us eternal life. 

Emmanuel, God with us. 

Behold, Jesus our Savior has come! 

He has come for the outcasts and misfits. He has come for you, he has come for me. 

He is our ever present friend, our constant companion. No matter how messy things get or how complicated our situation becomes, He will never leave us nor forsake us. We are His beloved and He is ours. We are His joy, His delight and it is in Him that we behold pure joy. 

Even on our darkest days, the light of His unconditional love shines upon us—brilliant and bright. 

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.” Isaiah‬ ‭9:2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.””‭‭ Luke‬ ‭2:9-12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Until now, I’ve never felt like it was my place to tell my husband, Robert’s story. He see’s the world differently than me, different from most of us. Yet, what he see’s and does not see effects how I see. It has changed the way I view life, circumstances and people. It has framed the way our children have learned to see from birth. His story is part of mine, part of the fabric of our family.

More than eighteen years ago, on our very first date, what I saw was a man who was not afraid to be himself. He was funny, lighthearted and easy to be with. I saw him as someone whom I connected deeply with. Someone who helped me forget about my woes and worries and just laugh. Someone who looked beyond my flaws and brokenness and saw my heart as beautiful. Someone whom I saw as beautiful. This someone, was the one I had waited and prayed for. The one I knew that I loved. This was and still is enough for me.

On our first date, the two of us walked together on a nearby city street. I recall that it was then that he told me that he saw only a fraction of what I saw. He was already blind at night and his eye sight would continue to get worse. I remember feeling scared but also relieved. This was no life sentence, he was not a ticking time bomb. Even without his sight, he would still be the man I was falling head over heels for. I knew with an unwavering certainty that this would not be his journey to take alone. From that point forward, it was our journey of faith to walk together.

Fast forward to eight years ago, his eye sight was at the point where he was considered legally blind which is about twenty percent field of vision. With only a few months to go before we welcomed our fourth child into the world, he chose to stop driving. This adding a layer of challenge to our life, resting the sole responsibility of driving our growing crew on me. This was no easy decision. He loved to drive. Loved the wide open road, a lazy Sunday drive, a tree lined street, a curvy mountain adventure. He gave up this love for a greater love—for the safety and protection of his family.

Now today, eight years later, his eye sight continues to diminish. His field of vision now less than ten percent. You may wonder what his and our family’s future holds, the outlook may seem bleak. You may feel pity but please don’t. There is nothing in our story that should evoke even a twinge of pity. Yes, our road has not been an easy one. Our journey has had its road bumps but we are all the more stronger for them. Our vision and faith expanding with each passing year.  I am not going to tell you that I am not scared. At times, I am overwhelmed by the weight of it all yet I know that we are not on this journey alone. We have someone much greater walking with us, providing richly in every way and paving the way for a future bright with possibility and beauty. Nothing is impossible with our God.

In November, our family will be expanding yet again. We will be welcoming a new member into our family. One who will be a great assist and constant companion to Robert and a joy to everyone in our family. Robert will be spending two weeks away preparing for this transition. By Thanksgiving our new friend will be home with us!!

Robert has spent the last 8 years depending on the aid of a cane. Using it on dark walks on his early morning commute to work, traversing through crowds and unfamiliar streets. In November, he will have a living, breathing, faithful guide to walk beside him and be his eyes, to see what he can not. As this time approaches we feel some apprehension but also so much relief and gratitude. The uncertainty in Robert’s future feels less daunting, our new friend bringing with them, security and greater independence.

In Robert’s life, he has faced many challenges. I have always been inspired by his faith, resilience, courage and humor in the face of the dark unknown. I believe God has and will continue to use him and our family in mighty ways for His Kingdom. For our family, this means taking each step as it comes, no matter how dark the path may seem, knowing that not once have we ever walked alone.

Here Robert begins to tell the story of taking the first uncertain step into a new chapter. His story is still unfolding and we invite you to subscribe and follow along.

“For we live by faith, not by sight.”‭‭ 2 Corinthians‬ ‭5:7‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”” ‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭31:6‬ ‭NIV‬‬

This year has stretched me. Too many plates, stacked too high, leaning at a precarious angle. Doomed to fall over, crashing down, breaking in a million tiny pieces. Threatening to break me. The last several months have been a blur of back to back therapy sessions and specialist appointments, hard diagnoses, conflicts in relationships, hardships for those I love. Not to mention everyday life: balancing obligations, dealing with sibling squabbles, preteen angst and toddler meltdowns, finding a healthy balance between work and rest, just to list a few.

I know I’m not alone in this. We all face struggles and hardships. We each experience seasons where we are stretched to our max. At some point or another, we all feel like our plates may come crashing down, threatening to break us. In these times, we could all use a soft place to land. To find rest from our worries, relief from our weariness.

My heart has felt restless, anxious over many things. In this stretching, in the mix of fear and uncertainty, I am leaning hard into the truth of who God is. My understanding rooting deeper into God’s love and tender care for me. In the middle of these challenges and hardships, I am becoming more aware of and depending more fully on His ever present mercy. Allowing myself to sit in the tension of uncertainty, remaining present in the moment, taking each day as it comes. His mercy meeting me in the middle of what seems like a mess. I am continually releasing all that I hold tightly to, laying down each burden.

Surrendering it all, I let go, falling smack dab in the middle of His mercy—the softest place to land.

Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.”‭‭

Lamentations‬ ‭3:21-23‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”‭‭

Matthew‬ ‭11:28‬ ‭NLT‬‬