My midwife told me when I was birthing my second baby girl that if I held my breath the contractions would hurt even more. My natural reaction in pain is to tense my muscles and hold my breath to avoid the pain. In childbirth, I needed deep, long, measured breaths to carry me through the pain. Somehow breathing through the pain helped release the [...] Keep Reading
death
When your answer just might be a question
One of my daughters was struggling earlier this year to understand a decision her teacher made at school. All the feelings of confusion, frustration, and misunderstanding came tumbling out as she unpacked the details for me. This decision came at a cost to my daughter and to other students. My instinct was to call that teacher and give her a [...] Keep Reading
An unexpected adoption: You are loved as God’s daughter
The hallway started to feel a little toasty on that December afternoon at the Fresno County Courthouse as forty friends and family packed in for the momentous occasion. The joy in the air was palpable for the official adoption ceremony of my three daughters by my husband Shawn. Shawn and I married seven years ago after my first husband [...] Keep Reading
Walking toward healing: Rehab for the broken hearted
Pam and I are both writers who are part of a group called Hopewriters. We met in person several years ago at the World Conference for the American Association of Christian Counselors. I sat in on her workshop and listened intently as she shared her story and suggestions on how to help widows navigate grief. I resonated with so many of her personal [...] Keep Reading
5 myths and 1 important truth about grief
After my husband’s death, I quickly discovered people had a lot to say about grief. As a young widow at age 37 and mother of three young girls, I was often surprised by the comments. Sometimes they would share their insights in hopes of offering comfort. Oftentimes these opinions were driven by myths about grief that get passed around, rather than [...] Keep Reading
The healing power of retelling stories
My middle daughter slathered melted butter on layer after layer of paper-thin phyllo dough for the paklava. Her arms moved methodically back and forth. Every six layers, she sprinkled cinnamon, sugar, and walnuts over the pastry like stardust. Meanwhile, my oldest daughter chopped bell peppers at the island next to her sister. I added the [...] Keep Reading
