Good/Hard Living
Whether it’s the sand of Lake Michigan, the joy of the first snow, a bout of sadness, or another broken down appliance, we’ll hold all the tension, grief, and sorrow of these rough years, and we’ll look for the good. We’ll look back and acknowledge: yes, that was hard, but it was good, too. We see it in the eyes of one another and the fact that the sorrow itself points to a good that was lost.
People Before Things
I value creating a beautiful home for my family, but I’ll never be able to hold an appreciation for beautiful surroundings too dearly. So many of our things are broken now. Look in any direction in our house and you’ll find evidence of a non-preferred task or a sensory meltdown or a time when we said “No,” before we knew what reaction that word could elicit.
A Mother’s Day Card
The simple words on that Mother’s Day card belied a deeper meaning, a revelation that James was developing into a little boy who recognized his life and his Mommy looked a little different from those of his friends.
The Blessing of Neediness
And while I certainly needed a lot of help to show up in the world, I like to think I did my share of helping. I’ve learned that rhythm is called the mutuality of ministry, which forces us all to both ask for the help we need and to offer the help we can give.
Making Peace with Letting Go
If the alternative to a broken heart is an "unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable" one, then I suppose the choice is clear, but when our heart has been broken as the result of loving something then having to say goodbye to it, we can't help but question if the love was worth the pain.
Exploring Fatherhood
Maybe I should focus my highest efforts not on James' behaviors but on my own. Then perhaps I will have done something really transcendent for him. Rather than a list of rules, I might have given him a far more enticing model for living: a flickering reflection of his Heavenly Father, a life-long exploration of goodness and love.
John’s Birth Story
This story is the story of John Nestor Wolf and the day he arrived in the world. This is his story, our story, but it’s your story too. And ultimately, it’s God’s story—the one where new life is birthed from near death, where hope overflows from broken vessels. We are still pondering this profound revelation in our hearts as we hold him in our arms.
The Scars We Have and the Scars We Give
Maybe the best way to parent my boys is to not to hide the hurt, but to show the healing.