Faith, Family, and the beauty of Everyday Grace
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Dear Younger Me
May 14, 1985
Dad died in the hospital today. Why, why, why, why, why? Why wasn't I taken instead? Mom, Karen, and the boys could live fine without me. How will any of us survive without Dad?
June 9, 2023
Dear Younger Me,
These are such good questions.
all of God's grace in one tiny face
After I repeated the expression, you told me it brought you to tears.
“All of God’s grace in one tiny face.”
We'd talked on the phone for an hour that afternoon—me swatting bees on the deck of our rental house in Indiana and you back home in Illinois in your comfortable recliner, looking at birds out the window.
find their way
"Just turn on the power and everything is all set. You don’t need to change a thing. I have it on the correct setting and volume."
"If it’s not turned on," she said, "he won't sleep and will be distracted by the children playing outside."
I was babysitting for my niece and nephews and followed my sister's instructions to a T.
build a bridge
Trying to wing the toast at my son’s wedding last May was a horrible idea.
Once I had the microphone and looked out at that lakefront ballroom full of cherished family and friends, I felt an uncomfortable lump forming in my throat. When I turned to address the bride and groom, the swelling moved up to my eyes and nose, releasing a fall of emotion that spilled over.
the true you
I sat poolside in this Mexican resort town and noticed a tingling clearness in my head and my breathing start to slow down and expand. It felt like a watch that had been ticking too fast, suddenly being reset to the correct tempo—an invisible rebooting of my soul.
I recently heard the soul described as the part of you that was there before you were born and the part of you that will live on after you die: The "true" you.
a chain reaction
No sooner had the words come rushing out of my mouth that I saw a single, fat tear roll down her cheek. She looked at me with incredulous eyes, and my heart pounded.
the dash that is our life
Yesterday, I visited the cemetery where my dad was laid to rest in 1985.
I hadn't planned to stop there, but construction and a wrong turn after dropping my mom at the airport led me on an adventure through the city of Chicago and then to the highway that passed his exit.
I settled in the shade in the summer heat and was surprised that tears can still appear.
homesick at home
I once read that you start saying goodbye to your child the moment you give birth.
Trusting another to watch them for an hour, their first crawl and first steps, the beginning of pre-school, start of kindergarten, first time sleeping away from home—on and on the goodbyes go.