Category: friendship

Beauty In The Ashes – God’s Faithful Goodness In Our Seasons

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The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet with his love; He will sing joyfully over you. Zephaniah 3:17

I was asked to share my life story/testimony at our church women’s retreat this weekend. Honestly, I did not want to and was very begrudging at how God openly pulled me in that direction. As I began to prepare, I was again blown away at remembering HIS glorious goodness to our family as HE alone has carried us through hard things. I also want to note that this is not shared to solicit pity or say poor me but rather to bring glory to how God has been our provision!

Here is what I shared.

I was raised in a Godly home, with parents who taught me about God answers our specific prayers and modeled having a personal relationship with Jesus and what it meant to follow his word.  

I graduated from high school early, and soon went to Rosedale Bible Institute in Ohio where I had an Iowa roommate and unknowingly met my Iowa husband to be, who was in a room I apparently entered while trying to round up people for an activity. He vividly recalls thinking I was the most obnoxious girl ever.

After Rosedale, My roommate, Kari Kemp McGaffey, insisted I move to Iowa so we could be closer, so I very spontaneously moved to Iowa for what I intended to be for 1 year, to fill the last minute position as kindergarten teacher at Pathway Christian School. That was 30 years ago last fall. About 2 years in, I started dating her cousin after begging God for quite some time, that He, being the handsome hunk he was, would notice me and eventually he did. We talked marriage on the 2nd date, were engaged at the 3 month mark, and married on the 9 month anniversary of our first date. 

We settled happily into married life, and hoped for God to bless us with babies before too long. Soon after we married, we packed up and headed to help with a mission in Haiti for a year. We survived Y2K, getting robbed and me being very sick with malaria. We had a several hour drive to the mission hospital and on the way there my temperature topped out at 104. I was so sick and unable to communicate.  I do recall trying hard to tell Lowell that if I died, I really wanted him to take me home to Iowa to bury me. He could not understand what I was trying to say and at about that moment, I remember an old Southern Gospel song suddenly blaring through my mind. It went like this. 

“God likes to work when your back’s to the wall

When faith’s in the balance and you’re just about to fall

So there’ll be no mistaking when HE blesses and heals….

God likes to work when nothing else will” 

Lowell says I started making noises and I do remember trying to sing, but nothing was coming out except maybe a humming. God did step in and heal me as I am obviously still here and didn’t have to come back to Iowa in a coffin. 

Soon after our 3rd anniversary, we came back to Iowa where I worked various jobs..Pathway, Pleasantview, Walmart, Babysitting, waitressing and fun fact… I was part of a team that got an award for being the fastest McDonalds drive thru in the region. 

Then we officially entered God’s waiting room where we waited and waited on babies. 

The infertility season was hard. 

Several years went by and I kept reading in Psalms 127 where it says how children are a gift from the Lord and in Psalms 113 where He settles the barren women in her home as a happy mother of children. I repeatedly asked God where my blessings were and why he wasn’t answering my deepest desires of motherhood. 

We contemplated adoption and had discussed going to get a little girl in China. Instead we bought the restaurant I had been managing in hopes of fun times together since parenthood wasn’t happening for us. 

What we didn’t know is that I would get pregnant the very week we signed the papers.  We still didn’t know when I got on an airplane to go see my sister in Phoenix for my 30th birthday. I vomited most of the way from Iowa to Denver.  The flight attendant finally brought me a big black garbage bag with coffee in the bottom and asked me if I was pregnant. I shook my head. When we landed and I went to exit she says, “oh honey, are you SURE you aren’t pregnant because you sure look pregnant to me”. I responded quickly with “oh no! There’s no way.  It’s not possible for my husband and I”….

But after slurping pepto bismal all weekend, I thought I would take a test just in case. Now let me tell you, I should have bought stock in pregnancy test companies. I had not ever had a positive test until early that Monday morning. And just so we never forget God’s miraculous provision, I actually have that pregnancy test in a shadow box on the picture wall in my kitchen.

I went on to have a high risk pregnancy and a major surgery for a torsioned ovary in my 7th month. I spent the rest of the time on bed rest and drove myself to the hospital on several occasions because poor Lowell was so incredibly busy trying to keep the restaurant afloat. I would drive in, get whatever meds I needed at the moment, to grow baby’s lungs or stop labor, lay there a few days, then drive myself home. I did a lot of feeling sorry for myself during those months and was so lonely with no family close. Then on February 22, 2006  at 36 weeks I gave birth to a healthy tiny precious baby girl Kali Ruth. It was a magical time and we thought we had our one and only miracle only to find out when she was 7 months old, that Hunter was on the way, followed closely by the news of Lexi.  

During my pregnancy with Lexi, our life fell apart.  We lost everything that was physically ours including the business, our home, van, friends, our dignity and our marriage. We moved into an old house that had snakes in it. I stayed home with the older 2 and fielded calls from creditors threatening to come take my husband to jail. Lowell was angry, which I now realize was his response to feeling that he was a complete and utter failure who could not provide for his family. I was super hormonal and cried all the time. Our family was in shambles. We ended up separating and I moved 1000 miles away to live with my parents in South Carolina while we sifted through the rubble of what had been us. Though we did not separate with the intention of divorce, I did not know if it was possible for God to salvage what was so very broken. 

But OUR God is a miracle working God who specializes in restoration and healing of broken people. After 11 long months apart we were reunited and our work in progress marriage continues growing to this day. This summer we will celebrate 28 years.   

That season, though one of the most difficult to that date, was a time when I felt God’s presence in the most tangible ways and sensed him molding and shaping both me and Lowell.  He has allowed our story to be a tool for helping others who are struggling.  We have enjoyed hosting marriage events in our living room several times a year for the past few years and we continue to learn how to grow in our own relationship though we are far from perfect! And we always remind people that if God could fix our marriage, there is not a marriage out there that He can’t help!

Immediately upon our reconciliation, I got pregnant with our honeymoon baby as we dubbed her. Abby Marie was a teeny tiny big spirited person and we had 3 of the best years together as a family of 6. In 2012, God gifted us with 3 months of precious uninterrupted family time when Lowell broke both of his heels in a work accident and had to stay home with us. 

Then came July 14, 2014. 

It was the first warm enough to swim day of summer and Lowell had filled our small pool the night before. All 4 children excitedly gathered their things and headed out to get into the water. I was super busy that morning and actually ignored the prompting to go out and check on them. I hurried to my office to quickly finish a few projects when I hear the door open and Lexi who was 5, said the words I will never get out of my head. “Mama you need to come, Abby died.” 

That moment started the nightmare that never ends. Aircare landed and doctors worked on her on our back deck for over 20 minutes then transported her to UIHC. 21 hours later and about 30 minutes after my parents and sibling arrived, we made the agonizing decision to disconnect life support. The small ICU room was filled with family and friends, and some God sent people we did not even really know. We softly sang “Safe in the arms of Jesus…” and prayed quietly, committing her back to the Jesus who had gifted her to us. What I did not notice at the time was the group of muslim staff standing in the hallway observing us. A friend later told me they kept peering at our faces and looking puzzled. She explained that her experience had been that death in the muslim community was filled with loud crying and terror at the lack of hope. In the midst of our grief God was sharing a visible gift with others who needed Him.  

Then we began the longest week ever waiting for the autopsy.

I wrote about her death on my blog ( https://dorothymiller.org/abby/ )

We planned a funeral. 

I passed out at the viewing where over 1200 people came to wish us well. 

We were numb. 

A few weeks later as I sat at her grave, I looked up at the beautiful blue sky and told God I just didn’t know about the reality of him.  I reminded Him how I had faithfully served him and told him I just couldn’t fathom why he would do something so horrific like taking my baby girl away. I told him about how I didn’t know if he was really real or that Heaven was a real place. I asked if he could give me a sign letting me know he was real, that there was life after death, and that Abby wasn’t just done under that cold pile of dirt.

As I looked around, through my tears, I saw a used to be white rose that someone had moved from the casket spray and stuck into the mound of dirt. I began to pull on it and as it slowly emerged from the ground, the stem grew greener and greener and at the very bottom a small fresh new green leaf unfurled as it hit the light of the sun. In that moment, God said “look at the life in this rose you thought was dead. Just like the flower, Abby is not gone but with me and you will see her again. And I am really with you…”

I of course began to weep and thank God for showing himself in such real ways in direct answer to the prayers I had prayed just a few minutes prior. 

We had a social worker connected to us from the hospital.  She called often to check in on us. One day I was sharing with her about how encouraging it had been to hear from people around the world who had come to faith in Jesus after reading our story on my blog (which actually hit over 50,000 views.) I do not know if she was a person of faith but I have often thought since that she may have been with the ways she interacted with us. That day she said, “Dorothy you have no idea.  Your blog has been printed off and is being shared all over the hospital.” So, God in his providence gave me a platform that I really didn’t want, to share his story in ways with people that I would have had no connection with otherwise.

About a month into our journey of grief, Kali came in one night and told me she had thought about jumping out of the hayloft in the barn so that she could die and go be with Abby and Jesus. The social worker told me that if I did not get therapy quickly for all of my kiddos, that she would be forced to admit Kali to the psych ward.

I set out looking for a Christian based therapy place and found a local organization that got me in a few days later. The kids played with toys as I shared our story with the counselor, barely able to get words out through my heaving sobs. As I finished, she looked at me and asked what I wanted from her services.  I told her I wanted someone to walk through the trauma with my kids, that had a faith based perspective so that I could trust that Jesus would be a part of their healing and so that I would not have to hospitalize my 8 year old.

I will never forget my horror when she told me she did not have any trauma certifications and that no one in their office did either and therefore they could not help me.  She directed me to a secular psychiatrist telling me there was nothing in this field that was Christian and faith based. I drove home and took another dive through the yellow pages where I found Cornerstone Christian Therapy. The sweet lady upon hearing my brave blubbering attempt asking for help, assured me that they had the perfect fit and soon I was sitting in a meeting with Kendra Bailey. She sat listening with compassion, tears rolling down her face. I asked if she had the proper trauma training stuff to help us and could have danced when she assured me that she could and would gladly walk with us. That was over a decade ago, and my kids still all see Miss Kendra as needed. 

I have often said I don’t know how I could have raised my kids without her help. She has helped us navigate the tough conversations like why did our Abby have to die so people could get saved? By the way, Lowell was one of those salvations and his life is a true testimony of the changes Jesus brings. I have had a very different husband for the past decade. Another tough question was, why didn’t God hear our daily prayer for his protecting angels? Kendra has been such a Godsend and has always used her gifts to point our family towards Jesus. 

Now, Our family life is broken into 2 basic segments. 

When Abby was alive AND us after her homegoing. 

Divorce numbers are astronomical after couples bury a child. It has not been easy as we all grieve very differently, but God has been faithful and we have stayed married.  

The other big thing has been my health. Nearly all mothers who have lost a child encounter failing health in sometimes bizarre ways. I have not escaped that statistic, though I was conscious of it from the start. In one 18 month period from 2017 – 2019 I had 7 major sinus procedures, 2 hospitalizations for sepsis, an unexpected hysterectomy, a scary thyroid tumor and infection in my mouth that resulted in the need for complete dentures at age 44. 

I thank God for his healing and hope my 50s will continue to show improving health that He alone has granted. 

As I reflect on my journey, I often think about something my friend Char and I always used to say to one another. Maybe Lowell was unexpectedly late after work or one of the kids was super sick. After we survived the crisis, we would share together and one of us would say, Well, had you planned the funeral?” 

Now, I have planned a funeral. Despite the fact that I never thought my heart would keep beating if God needed any of my long awaited babies back, He has been our provision! I have been able to keep on living.  Not on my own strength, but solely on HIS. He has brought unexpected laughter and joy back into my heart and into our home. He has provided deep meaningful friendship with others who have been compassionate with us and love us as we are in all of our brokenness.

If you have heard anything that I have shared, I hope the take away will be that you always remember God’s faithfulness and His ability to handle our biggest questions and traumas. He truly is so capable and so so good…

Finding Rest in a Restless World

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Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28 NIV

Those who know me well will tell you I don’t rest well. I may be a great sleeper, but sitting at rest is challenging for my ever wandering mind. There are always chores to do, people to feed or loved ones needing time and attention. Over the past years, however, God has shown me over and over that he desires my resting time as much as he needs me to do the busy things he has created me to do. So, I am making efforts to carve out times to just sit and be still.

For me, being restless hasn’t just been the actual physical busy I find myself consumed with, but also the busy in my soul and mind. Last week after Kali left, I found myself in a new and very unknown stage where I was not familiar with the emotions or the ways my mind would run. I couldn’t understand the tightening in my chest, or the way that tears would constantly show up in unexpected spaces. I know some of that is indeed the changing of seasons but I found something else tucked quietly behind one of those walls in my brain that provided a big ah-ha moment.

One day as I was putting something away in Kali’s room, it was as if I heard a quiet voice saying “she’s not dead…she just grew up.” Duh! All of a sudden it hit me. My body was processing and equating this season with Abby’s leaving. Now the way my chest constricted made sense. I had felt these things in very real and painful ways before. My brain knew about those and so that is the path it took. I was able to verbalize my realization with a dear praying friend who validated what I was feeling. It felt good just saying it out loud and God used those moments to bring my heart to peace. I am so thankful for our sweet Father, who blesses us with all the parts and pieces we need to find true rest in Him. He is good.

**Completely on a side note here! Not a paid promotion! If you need God honoring Biblical based help in this area of the power of the brain, my friend, Iva has been a great resource to me personally in this area!

**Photo compliments of my Kali from her Costa Rican travels.

Minutes & Seasons – A Timely Space For Parenting Myths and Other Conundrums

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Autumn brings out that organizing and nesting part of my nature. Not that it isn’t present all the other seasons, but I get great satisfaction in pulling out my bin of fall decor and shaking some extra cinnamon on my hot chai.

While beautiful, September isn’t always an easy time as it marks the month my last baby, our precious Abby, was born (9/14/10) and reminds us of her absence in our midst. This year I find myself extra nostalgic about how fast my other babies have grown up. I find myself a bit apprehensive about the days and weeks ahead. Kali, our oldest, graduated from high school in May of this year, with highest honors I might add which is an absolute blessing for someone who is a diagnosed dyslexic. This grand occasion hurdled Lowell and I into uncharted territory…that place of having adult children.

I have always, from day one, adored being a mama. After nearly 10 years of infertility, my children are truly my gifts directly from heaven and a dream come true. While I had not had homeschooling on my radar, as time with my precious ones went on and it came time to make those schooling decisions, it was what we chose. I really had no idea if it would be something we would do long term. Apparently after 14 years, I guess it was a good fit though we have had a lot of various combinations along the way. Kali chose our local public school for high school which was the perfect fit for her. She was strong and rooted in her faith and shone God’s light brightly where ever she went. She developed an amazing network of Godly friendships, some of which continue post high school and have had far reaching blessings for our entire family. Hunter has always been super content to be home with me and has done a combination of home school and added in music at the public school, which has been his flourishing spot for sure. This year, Lexi joins him at the public school for marching band and also in her main area of interest, Culinary labs! We have found our perfect niche in that combo contrary to the myth that homeschoolers must always be just that – learners at home only. I am so so grateful for the options available in our district and state!

Somewhere along the line though, I missed the memo about how releasing our babies into the big wide world is not for the faint of heart. While I am fiercely proud of Kali and the beautiful woman of God she is, sending her far away (Costa Rica!) for an extended period of time (10 months!) is not all that jolly of a time, busting another myth that kiddos leaving home is just the best.

A hundred thoughts crash through my brain as I contemplate how normal of an occurrence launching children is. I wonder what my own mother felt as I left home and moved a state away soon followed by my little sister who moved several states away. I could never have comprehended the whale of emotion that accompanies this process. I am sure there are books somewhere on the subject but I am more of a have-a-friend-tell-me-about-it kind of person. As I have initiated conversation with other wise women who have walked this path ahead of me, I have gleaned many helpful realizations. People do this every day. I am most certainly not the first person on the planet to experience these emotions. While there is great joy in releasing our birdies to fly where God has obviously called them, there is also grief of sorts at the final closure of a huge and enormous chapter that has encompassed so much of our life as we know it. And yes, I am sitting here making lots of typing errors because of the leaking problem my eyes are encountering as I process exactly where we are. Never again will our household be just like it has been for the last 18 and a half years. While my assumption is that I will again have my 3 all living under my roof again, it won’t be in the same format and I know I have a whole lot to learn about being a parent to grown up children.

While my teenagers are most certainly not perfect and have blessed me with a few gray hairs, they are among my most favorite people! I am ecstatic that God has shared them with us for these minutes making up our family’s times and seasons thus far. And I am filled with the hope of enjoying a great many more joy filled moments together in the seasons he brings our way. He is so good!

My Adult Child #1 (Definitely not used to that term yet..)

My one and only son and high school senior
My beautiful and taller than me now newly licensed driver…

Us! In one of our favorite places…

Remembering Abby – Gone but never ever forgotten (9/14/10 – 7/15/14)

I Belong

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Sticks in a bundle are unbreakable – Bondai People Proverb

Recently I sat with a sweet friend who began to share some of her life story with me. I wept as the horrific details spilled out. It was more than I could almost fathom as she shared of her childhood and the shattered life she had endured and somehow miraculously survived. Her tween and teen years were saturated with ongoing abuse and pain. I felt like vomiting as I listened to her share. My heart broke for her. For many nights after I could not sleep just reliving what she had shared.

I first met her many years ago. She stepped into my circle when we both had babies, when her family began to attend my church. I remember meeting her and distinctly remember enjoying her sweet, kind personality. What I did not know, is the horrid things that were happening to her inside what should have been safe and welcoming walls of that church. It was not what Jesus called us his bride, the church, to be – a hospital for the sick.

People who had no idea of the magnitude of her trauma constantly taunted and belittled her, driving the lies of the enemy deeper into her soul. The words “you don’t belong here” were physically spoken to her in multiple situations.

I can not fathom what prompted such a response from people professing to love and follow Jesus. It made and continues to make me angry. I know the people behind some of those comments and I want to walk up and shake and scold them. I know we are human and make mistakes. But when are we as the church of Jesus going to come together and be what HE called us to be?

The enemy of our souls is absolutely delighted when he sees these kinds of stories unfolding. He wants more than ever to keep each of us bound up in the lies we begin to believe, thinking there is no place we really belong. Truth is, we don’t really belong here. But while our home is heaven, we are called to be a body of believers (a place of belonging) here who binds up the wounds of others, encourages one another and walks in true holiness like Jesus with skin on.

Recently some personal events in my life, sent me on a spiral to a deep pit of discouragement which I did not like to be stuck in. The voices in my head tormented me with the lies of the evil one convincing me that I did not really have a place or group where I really belonged.

Realizing this was not a place I wanted to stay, I reached up and out and through a series of events, God has connected me in some pretty amazing ways to people who struggled along side me and helped me crawl up out of that dark place. He also brought resources like my pretty much all time favorite book, “Find Your People” by Jeannie Allen and somehow surrounded me with a magnificent army of prayer warriors who pray me through anything.

I still struggle with darkness at times. I think we all do if we are honest. The battle is real and continues to rage until we get to heaven! I know now who my people are and where I belong. Do I still have ugly bouts of insecurity? Yup! But I am finding more confidence and help in refuting the enemies’ lies with God’s truths!

And, I am placing myself on active duty in the war against hurt and pain that happens inside God’s hospital for the sick. As I continue to think and pray about this issue, the question that keeps popping up is this: What if we as a church greeted people with “Let me hear your story…” instead of shooting those evil, self righteous, nauseating to the heart of God, arrows of ” You don’t belong here…” What if instead of looking down our noses at people who are different from us, we embraced them as the beautiful creations of God that they are and made every effort to walk with them in their messy pain and trauma.

We are all messy. We all face defeat and discouragement but as members of God’s family we do have a place where we are known and loved and where we really do belong!

Peopling

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I am married to a dear man who creates his own words. As I was pondering the title of this particular writing, I decided to look into if peopling was actually a word or if hubby was wearing off on me.

The Urban Dictionary notes peopling as the ability to tolerate people and their stupidity as well as your own stupidity in a public place. Hmmm. Not all that flattering of a definition. I like to think of “peopling” as being out and about mingling and interacting.

As a younger me, my sanguine self was quite adept at peopling, content to flit about hither and yon interjecting my bubbly self into many unique and fun settings, making action happen if life was to quiet. If all else failed I could always bring a scone or some of my fresh salsa and life would be right side up again. As I have gotten older, my desires to mingle and interact have morphed into different and sometimes unfamiliar shapes. The past decade has brought several major life traumas to our family necessitating huge changes in locale for us which resulted in uprooting and needing to readjust to new faces and places. This, if I am completely honest has been brutal for my 40 something brain to process and cope with. Starting over with friendships on quite a few levels has been overwhelming. It’s not easy breaking into circles that have been established for long periods of time, sometimes decades. I have compared myself to the Israelites after they left their bondage in Egypt. I know with out a shadow of a doubt that we are in much healthier places but I still miss the “leeks and the garlic” of Egypt which were the established comfortable routines like having monthly planned activities with other families and friends, having persons who love and appreciate my scones, and having someone to go camping with in the summer time. Being older and tireder and wondering what I have to offer, plagues the epicenter of my thoughts as I dream of being settled and comfortable in relationships.

Now I am not over here in some black hole but some days I am sad at how lonely I feel. (Important Side Note: I promise I do have a real friend or two.) As I have come to grips with the current season, I have become more aware and intentional. I listen and watch and hear other people’s hearts and the scary and sad, but somewhat hopeful in a very strange way thing is, I am not alone in this. People are lonely. People around me are lonely. People who sit around me at church, in my job, at my kids’ school are lonely. Loneliness is reaching epidemic levels. How do I know? People have told me so. Some say it just like that. Others say it more subtly. People are even writing books about it. Jennie Allen in her book “Find Your People” says this – God said it after he made the first man. It is not good for man to be alone. So, as messy as relationships might be, we can not live life alone. Allen goes on to share ways to find your circle of people.

I have often thought with humor about how it might look to run an ad for friendship with the same theme as those singles ads that used to run in the Sunday paper. Wanted: Family Friendships. Prefer imperfect family units. Grumpy dads and helicopter moms acceptable. Love of camping, porch sitting, low country boils, veggie tales music and nut pickout nights a plus. Or Wanted: Christ Honoring Female Friendship. Prefers slightly bulgy, non perfect 35-65 year old female. Listening skills a plus. Must love Jesus, speaking the truth in love and celebrating life events together.

If it were only that easy right?!

One of the issues we face is we are to busy. Way to busy.

Secondly, we live in an era where 500 or even a 1,000 social media friends is the norm. Sadly, 100 likes on a post is not even any where close in value to a simple conversation in person with a real honest to goodness unadulterated person. We have become a dehumanized people hiding behind the screens of our phones and laptops where sadly we can say mean and hurtful things and even post anonymously only feeding the giant monster of loneliness and despair.

I am convinced that if each one of us took the time to work on building relationships in person, this epidemic of lonely people would diminish. But how do we do so?

I love what it says in Hebrews 10. Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up the habit of meeting together as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another…

I do not want to take things out of context and I certainly don’t profess to be a deep theological student, digging into the back meanings and greek and hebrew meanings but am more of a words at face value kind of gal. I kinda like how this verse actually just spells some things out. Sound simple? Not exactly. Peopling IS messy, this we know for certain, and takes work but can truly bring about the biggest blessing in a lonely world.

Who’s with me?

What Grief Is Not

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As the ebb and flow of my own personal grief continues, I remain astounded at the fragile sometimes painful ties that bind my heart to others who grieve. 

Conversations especially with other mamas who have lost often turn to what might be our own triggers for the resurfacing of what we thought was done like the way even driving past the giant University of Iowa hospital inevitably brings a fresh inability to breathe.  It doesn’t ever feel silly to express. In those moments each of us is completely understood.

Today for my husband’s hand surgery, we actually parked in the same spot in the endless parking garage where our van had been parked when we had to leave the hospital without her. I remember walking out holding my children’s hands, feeling like I was naked or like I must have forgotten my purse.  

Also noted is the keen awareness of loss when someone we know is experiencing trauma or shattering loss. My sweet friend Gloria, who I have actually not met in person, is living that as I type. She was a faithful prayer warrior as Abby lay connected to tubes and wires. She has checked in on me despite the miles since.  Now her young adult son is fighting for his very life as the result of a tragic accident in snowy Indiana weather over New Years. (prayers appreciated for her son, Collin) Watching her story from afar, rips the band aid off of my own grief and brings remembering the emotions and moments of our own story to the forefront.

Living through tragedy is an unwanted connection with people you may not have even noticed prior. It has often been a lifeline, a blessing in disguise but is not something one would wish on one’s worst enemy. 

Dusting off these emotional boxes of stuff I wish could just vanish, brings to mind things I have indeed learned through the process. People often ask me how to reach out when someone has lost or is living tragedy. While I wish there were a pat answer that would work across the board, there is not. Each of us is uniquely created by God not only physically, but emotionally so what may be helpful to me may mean next to nothing to some one else with similar circumstance. 

Recent conversation has once again freshened some things that remain at the top of the list that I share when someone really wants to know how to best reach out to others who hurt.  

#2. Grief is NOT a time for judgement.  

This is a tough one to navigate. Life has consequences. If my choices include over indulgence in smoking or drinking, my physical body may live out consequences like liver damage. If I choose to be morally “loose” with sexual standards, I may reap the consequence of a sexually transmitted disease. Overeating may result in diabetes or other weight related issues. The list could go on. 

While I do believe that our Creator God is just and as he says in his word we will reap what we sow, I do not believe that it is ever appropriate for us mere mortal humans to judge other humans on these issues especially when that other human has just experienced tremendous loss. 

I do not have the answers as to why Abby had to die at 3 years of age, but I still cringe at the quiet whispers of how it was most likely God’s judgement for our earlier marital separation and my wicked and rebellious spirit. 

I also know my sweet friend’s choice to allow her young adult son to attend a secular university was not the reason for his early demise as a result of nasty cancer. 

Yes, people actually do say these kinds of things. Well meaning or not, they are not words necessary in times such as these!

If you have “judgements” that just must be stated, hide yourself in your closet and talk to God about them! Don’t share them with others and most definitely please have mercy on the hearts of the grieving and don’t break their already fragile hearts into more pieces. 

Judgement is God’s job and HIS alone!

#1. Grief is NOT a time to expect normal.

Patsy Clairmont says it best. “Normal is just a setting on your dryer…”

Nothing will ever be normal after you have lost. 

This can be best explained when we look at those who have lost limbs. Yes, a prosthesis can be helpful! But that arm, leg or those teeth are still never going to be the same and will be daily reminders of what used to be. To expect someone to pop back to their old self is unfair and adds unwarranted punishment to the stress of continual grief. Part of our heart is gone. Life won’t ever be normal.

Grief is a time for you to muster all the care and kindness your soul has to offer and asking God for more when you start to feel emptied out .  It is checking in on folks in the weeks and months that follow, not just the day of the funeral. Pray. Take a favorite meal.  Send a plant. Write a meaningful letter that is not full of cliche things like Heaven got another angel or All things work together for good…It’s ok to say that you don’t know what to say. Let them know you care then watch for ways to be Jesus with skin on.

Most of all truly seek God’s heart on how you can minister best to those who are closest to your corner of the world!

To Love and To Flourish

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I have come that they might have life and might have it abundantly…John 10:10

This week as I sat with a new friend, she spoke some words that have been long tumbling about in my heart. They came out something like this…

What if Christ’s church could truly grasp the need for prayer for the marriages in its midst? 

Though I had just officially met her about an hour before, the passion in her eyes and the tears that accompanied her words matched one of the deepest passions in my heart, a passion most likely growing there because of my own marriage’s history. 

If you have been here with me for very long, you may have heard me sharing tidbits of God’s miraculous healing in our marriage. Though we are so very far from perfect, we have come a long way from the two hurting people we were during one of the most difficult seasons of our 24 years together. 

Lowell & I have often pondered the responses of well meaning family and friends during our 11 month separation. We have talked about how things could maybe have taken a different path, had we, in our hurt not helped the social circles around us draw those lines in the sand and “create sides”. While wall building and side taking can seem like natural responses when people we love go through difficult relationships, especially in marriage, this may not be the response that ends up promoting the most healthy outcomes. 

((Now I’m going to stop right here and say that I do firmly believe there are exceptions! If you or someone you love, lives in an abusive marriage where there is physical danger, some “side taking” may need to take place in order to bring the abusive spouse to the help they need.))  

I also am well aware that openly hurting marriages draw attention. People talk and suspect and pass judgement. Of this, I too am guilty.  

But here again, my personal experience kicks in and reminds me of the pain of that judgement in a time when my heart was already in a million teeny tiny pieces. 

My new friend went on to say how she felt that we as Christians need to motivate one another towards flourishing marriages, realizing that it is God’s calling on us to live life (which includes our marriages..) well and not just merely getting by. 

What if we were more transparent with the struggles we face in our marriages? I firmly believe that no matter how well a marriage looks to others, there is still always room for growth and encouragement. My heart has broken again recently as I’ve watched people I love reach the broken place of divorce after appearing “just fine” to those of us around them. 

What if we spent as much time teaching on the healthy gift of God honoring marital sex as we do telling our young people to abstain and wait for marriage? Now I am not saying that great sex is the answer to all marriage problems, but as I have read more of what the Bible says about this amazing gift, I think it could be given a little more attention then it is!  I won’t get on my soapbox right now….

What if we worked as a church to encourage one another in our marriages by finding and providing tools to help marriages thrive?  For Lowell and I, traditional Christian marriage conferences only served as  just another miserable weekend and a space to argue.  Not until we found Mark Gungor’s “Laugh Your Way to a Better Marriage Series”, did we truly begin to understand each other and gain the ability to embrace our differences. Does that mean that particular conference is the only way to encourage marriages?  Absolutely not!  Marriage encouragement just like marriage itself, is NOT one size fits all.  

What if we really did spend more time on our knees for our own marriages and for those marriages around us realizing the miracle containing power our prayers can contain? 

James 5:16 hits the nail on the head where it says, “Confess your faults one to another and pray for one another that you may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much….”

As I have said before, I would love to pray for you! And I would love it if you would do the same for me! May our focus be on the one who can indeed cause our lives to flourish!

Blessed Are Those Who Mourn…

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“You keep track of all my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  Psalm 56:8”

Pastor Steve read from Matthew 5 in his latest sermon. I have heard the Beatitudes read probably a million times in my lifetime. Never did verse 4 jump out to me like it did in this moment.  “Blessed are those who mourn…”

Blessed?  You’ve got to be kidding me!

Mourning is not particularly pleasant. 

Recently a caring friend asked me about how I felt about a certain aspect of grief. We talked about timetables for grief. We chatted about those we knew and how they grieve.  I find for myself that grief has been most unpredictable. Trying to find a place for her picture on my new walls has presented a challenge I could not have foreseen. But that’s grief.

As I sat re-reading the Matthew verse, I thought about how many times I’ve tried to imagine how my life would be without my daughter’s untimely passing.  While I feel like I have adjusted and am doing ok with the life altering loss, it still touches life in some way, almost daily.  Sometimes I don’t even realize how it slips its way in. 

I have had to come to grips with it (grief) entangling itself in what I say every single time I write.  I’ve wished it not to be so.  But it is. I have come to the conclusion that if my writing is truly a God calling, then apparently what I feel as I write must be the current message HE wants me to share in this place and time. And I have come to realize that it may not be for anyone else maybe, but simply for my own healing and wholeness. 


The rest of that Matthew 5 verse is so so precious.  “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. “  It doesn’t say might or may, it says will! To me that is all the comfort I really need – the promise of the hope of a brighter tomorrow.  If not here, over there with the blessed comforter Himself!

Letting Go

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It feels sooo good to write again!

So much has happened since I was last here. I was blessed with the gift of nearly full time employment which in combination with building our home, homeschooling my son and just being wife and mom, has put a crimp on my personal leisure time. But some thoughts have been rolling around in my brain that I need to vocalize, so here I am.

I’ve been big on the phrase “hold it lightly”. It seems there’s very little in life we can truly control though if you’re like me you’d really like to think otherwise.

A few months before Abby died I went through a process of surrendering her to whatever God had. The process was grueling and intense and yet brought peace. Little did I know the unfathomable pain I would walk through a few short months later. I remember holding her cold, lifeless body screaming out to God for his help and mercy. Even as the flight medics worked on her, I had a quiet peace and a complete understanding that she was indeed with Jesus already and that medicine though so advanced was not to be her path. Realizing that over the nightmare of the next 21 hours was surreal.

I’ve really struggled since, understanding surrendering to God’s will. Fear has had it’s ugly grip on my heart causing me to shrink away into my reclusive corner whenever I’m faced with the reality of the frailty of life. I’ve wondered if vocalizing what scares me is an invitation of sorts for the inevitable to plague me. Like yesterday. My husband made a comment about his health. Instantly my heart went into panic mode. I couldn’t possibly go on without him. The house isn’t finished yet. The kids are still reeling from the traumatic death of their sibling. I want to grow old with him….. So many of the same thoughts that had crossed my mind in my process of surrendering Abby made their way to the forefront of the battle in my head. I couldn’t breathe.

Then, though not audibly, I heard God whisper, “Dorothy do you trust me with Lowell? He’s not really yours anyhow. He’s mine…”

Surrendering those we love or anything dear to us for that matter, is not an easy feat. Realizing however that everything and everyone we hold dear really does belong to God makes the exhausting process a teeny bit easier.

Intentional Trust – “exchanging fear for faith”

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2020 has been tough on a lot of people.   

“Our new normal” includes daily conversations about things we never used to discuss. Fear seems to be a factor in most discussions. Each of us has a very distinct opinion, often completely opposite of those we love.   Distrust of everyone we meet has sprung paranoia on us like the springing of a steel trap.  Each week brings new reports of how bad things are.  The mandated ways we are to live in this new normal change almost daily. The so called experts can’t even seem to agree. Our addiction to news via social media and watching the news have fueled anxiety and fear, ruined relationships and caused suicide and depression rates to skyrocket. 

As I have watched the effects of these changes on my family and friends, my mind has been drawn to the truth of scripture.  While it may sound cliche, it has been the soft landing place my weary heart has been craving. 

I still check into my social media accounts off and on but have found my spirit is quieter when I lessen my time spent there.  Big surprise to me – I found I can actually survive without facebook, instagram and snapchat on my phone, instead limiting myself to checking when on my laptop.

Just prior to Covid’s infamous start, I had spent yet another weekend in the hospital . My sweet friend Mary came to pray with me and shared some of her handwritten scripture cards with me.  I was so blessed by the very practical truths she shared with me straight from the pages of the Bible that I began to ask God to awaken my hunger for his word.  

He has done just that. 

As worry has increased and uncertainty about how tomorrow, the next week, month or year may end up, I have found myself turning repeatedly to God for his comfort and truth. It has taken me being intentional about getting into his word, that has brought the rewards of peace and calm in a time of overwhelming stress and anxiety.

I am going to share just a few precious promises that have become dear to my soul and hope you will share some back!

Matthew 11:28 – Come unto me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.

Psalm 92:12 – The righteous shall flourish like a palm tree:  he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon.

Psalm 4:8 – I will both lay me down in peace and sleep; For you alone, O Lord, make me to dwell in safety.

Psalm 56:3 – What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.

Psalm 29:11 – The Lord will give strength to his people; the Lord will bless his people with peace. 

I obviously love the Psalms!  David, the author, shows over and over how human he was and how God was his only hope despite numerous too big for man situations. 

What are your go-to scriptures for combatting worry and fear?  Share them in the comments or send me a message.  Let’s be intentional about encouraging one another in these dark times!