On Choosing Truth.

I am driving three hours to the airport this morning. Three hours with the windows rolled down and the soothing sounds of James Taylor calling me home to North Carolina. It’s hardly a road trip, but something in this endless stretch of highway makes me remember. I remember Ian … [Read more...]

Waiting for my Wooden Leg.

In the wake of Ian’s death, I was flooded by a precious barrage of cards and books about grief that friends with their own grief stories thought might be helpful. I have faithfully read every one, and undoubtedly the book that I return to the most is my now dog-eared copy of CS … [Read more...]

That Sucks, and I’m Sorry It Happened to You.

This past weekend, it finally happened. I’d been dreading it since the moment I walked out of Ian’s ICU room for the very last time. I remember walking into the pristine, whitewashed hallway with sunshine pouring through oversized windows, and thinking that it should have been … [Read more...]

The Picture.

I used to love wedding shows like Say Yes to the Dress, but I’ll confess that since my own wedding, I cringe and scramble for the remote control at the slightest flash of crinoline. Something in me can’t watch women thoughtfully ponder the merits of lace and birdcage veils, … [Read more...]

Temporary Sting.

Saturday morning [the day that Ian graduated] began with a jolt as the phone on my bedside table began to buzz at 7:30 AM. It felt like it didn’t stop all morning-messages and phone calls from sweet friends that were praying for my family poured in all day. Offering to attend the … [Read more...]

Towards the Sound of Guns.

The other day, I picked up Kellan’s copy of “It Happened on the Way to War”, and began to read. Authored by a marine, he references over and over again the idea that “marines move towards the sound of guns.”Towards the sound of guns. I’ve mulled it over and played with it in my … [Read more...]