Beautifully Wrecked & Gracefully Broken

I’m not the girl you call when you’re bored or someone you text when you’re on the rocks with your girl.

I’m not the place holder filling in until you find your forever.

I’m not a void-filler because you’re miserable.

I’m not an afterthought or your f***ing punching bag.

I’m not your second choice.

I’m not dispensable.

I’m NOT the girl, babe.

I am incredible.

Worthy. Enough.

Full of light & sunshine.

I’m chaos and fury wrapped up in t-shirts and smiles.

I’m a hot mess stitched together with bruises and scars.

I AM the girl worth forever.

I AM THAT GIRL.

I hope you know that. I hope you f***ing know that. Respectfully. ✌️

To my single girlfriends who dream of being a wifey and mother,

I love you. Inspiration has hit home tonight. My heart feels a bit heavy, and I just needed to tell you that. Listen to me, you, my beautiful sister, are loved beyond anything you can EVER even imagine.

I also wanted you to know, not only are you loved, but you’re seen. I see you. Jesus sees you.

I know you want to be a wife one day. I know you think your divorce may have scarred you. I know you want endless sleepovers with your very best friend. I know you want not only the HEALTHY marriage, but you want the RIGHT marriage. I know you feel like it’ll never happen for you. I know it seems like everyone else is embarking on a season you only dream of. I know you feel like you’re forever waiting.

I know. I’m there.

I know you dream of the day children and laughter fill the spaces in your home. I know you dream of the day you can see the best parts of yourself in another little human. Will she have my curls? Will he have his eyes? I know you dream of the day you see your favorite person in the face of someone you BOTH had part in creating.

I know, sister. I’m there.

I’m at this really weird place right now. Not only is it weird, but it’s beautiful too, and I’m having to truly accept that. It’s weird in the sense that I dream of all of this too. I wonder what my husband will look like. I can’t even really fathom the man that God created FOR me. Do I even know him yet? Like is that even real? Will that even happen? What will his laugh sound like? His eyes –will they be blue or brown or green? I DREAM of this. I also dream of the days where I hear pitter patter of little feet on hard wood floor. I can’t imagine loving a little human so much. I can’t imagine their giggles. Their smile. Their little personalities. They’ll conquer the world. I just know it.

I often imagine the conversations my future husband and I will have. I know some children are unplanned and unexpected in the most beautiful way, but those conversations that happen when a child is planned. I can’t imagine that or even really fathom it. Like how does that even go?

“Hey, babe. Is it time? Time for kids?”

“Babe, do you wanna have a baby with me?”

I can’t imagine the emotions that come with that. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it.

OR what happens when you have a child already, and you both decide it’s time for another child to love. Again, I cannot even fathom that. I dream of it.

Ya know, I’m the LAST single/”not a mom friend” in the group of girlfriends I grew up with who are still my ride or dies. I’m Nanny, Taunt Han, Auntie, Aunt Hannah. I’ve watched my beautiful friends become wives then mothers or even just beautiful single mothers, and while I have walked the wife road, I’ve never experienced a child. I’ve never experienced a “Hey babe, let’s have a baby” conversation, and that’s something I HOPE for. And while, I have absolutely loved every single second of seeing my favorite people journey wifehood and motherhood, and their children are MY very favorite humans, it still saddens me sometimes. It’s human. I get sad seeing baby announcements. I get sad seeing another engagement. I’m fearful the dreaded PCOS that I carry around like a scarlet letter will give my husband and I trouble when that time finally comes. I worry. I’m almost 30. Will this even happen for me? I can’t imagine anything better. Being a wife in a healthy marriage and a mother.

BUT

In the same breath I say all this — I see Jesus, and JESUS HAS to be my focal point. He HAS to be my focus. It’s beautiful in the sense that I see so much of Jesus in this season of my life. Bit by bit He’s opening my heart again, and I just cannot wait to see what’s in store for my life. While I yearn for these things, I’m hopeful and content. I’m content in the space I’m in right now. I’m content in my time alone. I’ve learned so much about myself, and I’m starting to love Hannah again, like REALLY love Hannah again, and it’s been such a beautiful, hard journey for me.

I see Jesus in my life now. Every day. He sends patients to remind me I’m loved. He sends people to cross my path to remind me, “it’s not IF, it’s WHEN Hannah”. Our God is not an “IF” God. He’s a “WHEN” God, but I’ve got to be the one to put my trust in Him, and I’ve got to trust that no MATTER WHAT comes my way — husband or not, children or not, He’s still good. He’s got to STILL be my focus point.

I see Jesus in the season where He saved me from an emotionally abusive marriage.

I see Jesus when He protected my womb during that time of my life because He knew down the road we’d eventually divorce. He knew. He protected me. He protected my heart.

He KNOWS what’s ahead for me because He’s planned it. It’s written.

I see Him in the way He’s moved during my marriage, during my divorce, and now in my singleness, and again while there may be parts of my heart that ache when I see this happening for others, I KNOW my God isn’t a God who promises then leaves. He’s not a God who says He’s faithful then vanishes. He IS faithful. He’s present. He’s caring.

He’s the kind of God who loves gently. He’s a gentleman. Gentle in His pursuit of us. He doesn’t rush things. He doesn’t rush the chapters of our lives. The problem is –we get in our own way. We get in HIS way. We think, “well, I want this now. This guy is it for me,” when this person wasn’t even meant for you in the first place, but because He’s given us free will — we do what we want, but again guess what sis? We can’t ruin God’s plan for us. We aren’t that powerful. Your story will STILL pan out just how it was supposed to.

So, I think I say all of this to say,

I know it’s hard. Embrace this season. Don’t let your desire for children and a husband be greater than your love and desire for God. Focus on Him, and all things will fall into place. I’m believing that for myself, but I’m believing that for you too. Cheer for others even when they’re walking in the season you’re hoping for because sista girl, your’s is coming.

Your season is coming.

Just hang on. Hang on a moment longer. I love ya, and so does Jesus.

XO.

Hannah

Within the last few weeks, I’ve almost become obsessed with reorganizing my house. I’ve become obsessed with making corners of my home speak of love and happiness because for some time my home wasn’t a place of peace. It was a place of disagreement and disarray. When you think about it, our home is just an extension of who we are. It’s an extension of our heart and energy, and I’m claiming the space that I fill this year. I’m continually purging and organizing. It’s pretty freeing, actually. So, this one is a good reminder for me. Happiness— It’s made in the home, in a physical sense, but also a figurative sense, and I’m trying to make my house a home that brings my own heart peace again. As well as digging deep to embrace the moments where I’m happy and joyful, but also embracing when times aren’t as great.

In the past, I have struggled to “find happiness.” I’ve struggled to find it as if it were something I needed to search for. As if it were something I lost when in reality it was there all along changing with the waves of my own emotions. Honestly, I’ve put unrealistic expectations on people around me. Unrealistic expectations for them to be the sole reason for my own happiness. I’ve placed it on friends, family, and relationships. I’ve made happiness an idol, yearning to find it, so consumed in the search, and when I was anything but, I’ve blamed God because of it. As if it were His fault for my lack of contentment in the season I found myself in.

I’ve also carried happiness around like it was the only emotion worthy of show and tell. As if it were the only emotion worthy to show the world, and because I’ve done this .. I’ve realized the facade it places on my life and my story, and a facade is not the legacy I want to leave behind. I want to leave a legacy of happiness and joy. Fulfillment and peace. Truth and vulnerability, but I also want to be known as someone whose faith is steady. I want to be known as someone who doesn’t depend solely on another for the happiness I radiate and who also gives grace to myself and others when happiness is afar. Happiness doesn’t come from my situation or your situation. It doesn’t come from the love of another or the company of a companion. It doesn’t come from being a mom or a wife or even at this point in my life, a girlfriend. It doesn’t come from our success and social status. It doesn’t come from anyone, but me or you. Happiness comes from within. It comes from our creator. It comes from the pit of our souls. It comes from the heart—the very center of who we are. It’s something that is indeed worthy to share with the world, but listen here .. happiness shouldn’t be the only emotion we yearn for either. It shouldn’t be the only emotion we are brave enough to portray, and I want to acknowledge that.

How about joy? And peace? How about letting go of fear of judgement and not being afraid to say, “Yep, I’m stuck today. I’m in a funk..” How about giving ourselves grace when we feel anything but the pure state of contentment? How about we soak in the moments where we do feel contentment and joy, but how about not robbing ourselves when we feel anything but? How about we let ourselves feel? And give ourselves the grace in which we need to do so?

This is just weighing heavily on my heart tonight. Yes, happiness is homemade. It is. It doesn’t come from another, but you don’t have to be happy all the time either. It’s okay. You’re okay .. & you’re going to be okay. Dig deep. Realize the happiness that deserves to be told of, but give yourself grace on the days where happiness is the farthest thing from the reality you see. Embrace the joyful moments. Embrace moments of pure content, but embrace the hard days too. God’s on the mountain with us, but He’s in the valley too. I love you, friends.

Xo.

As I stared at the person before me I felt a tug on my heart that stung just a bit. It stopped me in my tracks.

I took notice of his black glasses clean and perfectly set aside on the bedside table across the room. Not far from it lay his iphone and Fitbit, both lying there just waiting for him to wake. In an instant perspective hit home and it hit hard. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I felt a tightness in my throat. Keep it together.

Keep. It. Together.

It hit me. This could be me. This is my nightstand.

I lay my glasses down at night typically on top of the book I’m reading. My Apple Watch and iPhone end up on the charger not far from where I sleep. I wake up the next morning ready to take on the day. I put my glasses on my face, my Apple Watch on my wrist, phone in hand. These are three things I typically don’t leave the house without.

And obviously he didn’t leave his house … without them either, and now here he lay …

Tubes everywhere fighting for his life. In. Out. As the machine breathes for him. His things just waiting in the corner of his room. Waiting for him to wake.

Then it hit me … again.

This man who laid before me was just that …

a man.

A man who is loved and cared for.

A man who I’m sure is deeply missed by those who love him. Does he have children? Or grandchildren? In those moments standing there I wondered what his laugh sounds like or if his eyes light up when he’s talking about something that makes him happy.

He’s a man who needs glasses to see. Maybe he likes to read like me. Maybe they find their resting place on top the book he’s currently reading. Maybe with his Fitbit he likes to track his heart rate. I know that’s a big reason why I like the Apple Watch. His iPhone hasn’t dinged in a few days. It’s probably dead by now. I’m sure he texts someone every day. Maybe his daughter if he has one? I’m sure she’s missing seeing “Dad” run across the screen of her own phone. I’m not sure what I’d do without 2:22.

As I stood there kind of struck by my own realizations I thought back to just a few days before. A few rooms over there was a man, and I took notice of the unlaced black boots in the corner of his room. Boots that would never feel the warmth of his feet ever again because he found his way home. Not his house. But his eternal home. All that was left of him were the pieces he left behind. Memories shared by loved ones. Boots. Glasses. A watch. A phone.

My heart broke.

We can get so caught up in the day to day. The to-do lists. The priorities. Who likes us. Who doesn’t. Our salary. Our reputation.

We lose sight of what matters. We lose sight that we’re all the same.

We bleed the same. No matter ethnicity or race.

We’re all loved. By one person or another whether our moms, husbands, wives, sons, daughters. We are all loved by someone.

We need glasses to see if our eyes fail us and we hate contacts.

We wear watches to tell time and track heart rates.

We have iPhones to text and talk to loved ones.

We wear boots to protect our feet.

You see, we’re the same you and me. We’re the same. You, me, and the man asleep.

We may not share the same beliefs, but at the end of the day …

Our glasses, watches, and phones are put away. Our boots by the door. And we rest. Only to do it all over when the sun rises again.

I’ve been thinking about heaven a whole lot lately. Probably because people I love reside there now. I try to imagine it. I try so hard in my own grief to imagine what heaven really looks like. When I think of heaven, I see it in the way the sun kisses the water in a beautiful sunset. I see heaven when rays of light shine through the clouds. I see heaven in the goodness of people.

I’m thankful for these moments in time where God allows me to see just a glimpse, but I’ve never actually seen this place. I can’t even really fathom it.

What will it really look like? Who will I see first when I enter the gates? Will it be Jesus?

I wonder so many things.

I wonder what it’s gonna be like when I leave this body and take residence in the body I’ll have for eternity. I imagine my spirit flying somewhere up there free and without pain, anxiety, or worries.

I wonder about God’s throne. What will it look like? Will I be rendered speechless?

I bet so.

Will I be able to visually see the nail scars in Jesus? Will it bring me to my knees? Or strait to tears? Think he’ll let me hug him really tight?

Will I see my Uncle Sam? Grandma and Grandpa George? Stephen? Charlie? Nub? And everyone else I’ve lost in this life.

I honestly can’t wait to worship for eternity. It brings me to tears just thinking about it. That’s probably what I look forward to most. Worship. And just being with Jesus.

My thoughts seem to be everywhere when I imagine heaven, but in all this random thinking, I’ve come to the realization that every day we die just a little bit.

We die just a little bit in the temporary body we find ourselves in because it’s just a shell, a temporary home for a spirit that’s meant to roam in heavenly places. A spirit that longs for home .. a home that’s not here. We long for heaven because we were meant for it. We’re only travelers here, not permanent residents, and the people we love who have died have only changed where they reside. That gives me hope. (Thank you for that one, grandma). ❤️

I’ve also come to realize that our “ending” here on earth is just our beginning for eternity. Death doesn’t win. It doesn’t have the final say. Jesus won that victory when He rose from the grave all those years ago, and that gives me hope when I long to hug the people I’ve lost. Scripture says, “since we’ve been united with Him in His death, through faith, we will also be raised to life as He was.” Romans 6:5.

Imagine it. Soak it in.

The grave doesn’t win.

And how lucky are we that the grave doesn’t get to keep us? How lucky are our loved ones who’ve made it home already? The grave may be where our physical bodies lie for now, but our heavenly bodies are praising for eternity, and friends I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait.

So, here’s a little food for thought for us all.

Where’s your heart today, dear friends? Are you ready if He calls you home? Are you ready for heaven? To see what it looks like? Are you feeding your spirit? Or starving it from light? Are you bringing love to those around you? Or spreading hate like wild fire? Are you reading the word? Are you ready? Are you ready to see what heaven looks like?

Xo,

Hannah

You walked into her life so abruptly. Your charm and your smile. That darn smile.

That smile made her heart do something weird and fluttery.

You weren’t what she expected. You were more and for a moment the world stopped.

You danced her around. You laughed with her. You made her feel worthy, but from the moment she fell for your fancy words and irresistible charm, those stupid rose colored glasses skewed her view of everything. They skewed her view of reality. She lost view of herself, and I think that’s the saddest part of it all.

She lost herself in the midst of trying to love you.

She gave.

You took.

She gave.

You took.

She tried.

You didn’t care.

She cried.

You walked away.

She begged for you to quit.

Your pride said no.

She begged for you to love her.

You only loved yourself.

She begged for you to need her, to want her, to even desire her.

You needed other things instead.

Before you knew it…

The pieces of your marriage fell to the floor before you both, and as they fell you both stood there lifeless and unwilling to move.

There was nothing left to do. No glue in the cabinet to piece it back together. No will to even try.

But let me tell you something brother, she’s better because of you.

She’s stronger.

She’s braver.

She’s bolder.

She’s fearless.

You gave her courage to love herself again.

Because of your actions or lack thereof you gave her permission to put herself first, and because of that she’s better. She’s better because of you. She grieved you only for a moment, but baby you better believe because of you she’s better. You made her better, and now all she wants to say is ….

Thank you.

Don’t you dare beg for love, beautiful girl.

Because if he can’t see you for the treasure you are and love every shattered piece of your being he was never meant for you in the first place.

You were never meant for him. It’s okay to walk away.

You’re worth more than rubies and pearls.

I know nights are lonely. They’re lonely for now. But beautiful girl. Don’t beg for love.

The one who will show up and love you unconditionally will love you from the beginning. From the very beginning he will know, “She’s mine. She’s always been mine.”

He will see the light in your eyes and the passion in your heart and love every ounce of everything that makes you who you are. The good. The bad. The ugly. The quirky.

He’ll fall in love with the way your mouth whispers his name. He’ll love the way you snort when you laugh and when you crinkle your nose.

He’ll love you on your sunny days, but love you even more in your chaos and storms.

He’ll be your North Star when the storms send you in a tizzy.

When your boat drifts so far out at sea and you’re afraid you’ll never be found, he’ll be the light that brings you back home again.

You’ll build a house with him, but he’ll be your home.

He’ll love every freckle, every flaw, every stretch mark, and deem them the most beautiful of all.

You’ll feel whole.
And loved.
And treasured.
Just how it’s always meant to be.

So, beautiful girl listen here closely.

You will find him someday.
But please remember true love never needs convincing to stay.

So, don’t you dare beg for love my beautiful, sweet girl.

Don’t you dare beg for love.

As I’m sitting here Easter morning alone with no plans but to enjoy time with my cats, clean a little, watch Netflix and Sunday church service, I’m sad at the fact that this is my reality for my favorite holiday of the year. Alone.

I love Easter. I love church service and pretty dresses and crawfish with my family, but this year .. it’s different.

Truthfully, I’ve felt sorry for myself. I’ve cried many tears within the last few weeks for many reasons really, but today because I’m a healthcare worker I feel like I’m being punished. I feel like I’m giving of myself by doing what I do in the middle of a pandemic, but I’m being punished by not being able to see the people I care about most on my favorite holiday, and part of me wants to take it personally. Part of me is upset that instead of going to my mom and dad’s for strawberry crepes for breakfast and crawfish for lunch it’s being delivered to me instead, and I’ll eat it alone. Part of me is angry that I’m still getting on social media and seeing people gather together with people they love while this virus is still very much alive and real while my family is complying with the rules. Part of me is envious and sad and heartbroken.

But as I sit here in the quiet this Sunday morning my heart is reminded to be still. My heart is reminded I’m not alone. I’m reminded that today isn’t about me or my plans anyway. It’s never been about that. It’s about a savior who died for me many years ago and rose again so I could have new beginnings, so I could have a relationship with God, so I could know the Father. He gave himself fully for me.

Nails may have kept Him on the cross for awhile, but LOVE is what emptied the grave that day.

Love is what resurrected.

Today is more than Easter dresses and food with family.

It’s about Jesus.

Hello perspective change.

When I put on my music as I started cleaning up I typically put it on shuffle. Instead of some country song or Backstreet Boys song, “Jesus What a Savior” by The Housefires blared within the walls of my kitchen.

No coincidence.

“I’ve never known a love like yours.

Jesus what a savior, what a brother, what a friend. Lifter of the lowly. God you meet me where I am.

Your love knows no boarders. Knows no walls. You’re constantly moving towards me with open arms.

I’ve never known a love like yours.

Hallelujah. Hallelujah. What a beautiful way you’ve showed us.

Hallelujah. Hallelujah. What a wonderful savior.”

What a wonderful Savior.

What a wonderful Easter.

The feeling of impending doom has haunted me for the last few days, and we haven’t even seen the worst of it. Yet. We haven’t seen the horror that places like Italy and New Orleans are currently experiencing. Doctors in Italy choosing who gets to live, who gets to die, bringing us back to what feels like Civil War days. I can imagine it’s something like the movies. I couldn’t imagine experiencing that, but even though I’ve yet to experience the doom doesn’t make it easier for the small town respiratory therapist who feels like she’s awaiting the battle.

The racing thoughts won’t silence. All the questions fill my head over and over again, day after day, in the morning, in the evening, when I open my eyes, before I fall asleep. There they are, these thoughts sitting on my chest nagging. The constant nagging won’t let up, and I hate it.

When will it stop?

Will it ever stop?

When will life feel “normal” again?

Will it ever feel “normal” again?

I just wanna see my mama, my three month old godchild who’s changing .. everyday.. my daddy, and nana. I’m missing things.

Is that so wrong to want to see the people you love? For me, but more importantly for them I’ve got to stay away.

Will today be the day though?

Will today be the day I catch it?

Will today be the day I bring it home?

There have been so many deaths, so much suffering. I know it’s a part of our fallen world. I know this. Times like these are in the Bible. I. Know. This. BUT it doesn’t make it easier.

Suffering, at least for me, will never become an easy thing for me to see. Never.

My heart physically aches. It aches so much so anxiety takes hold of me and it feels like it’s going to squeeze the life right out of me. Sometimes I think it’ll win. Death by anxiety, but I know anxiety never wins. Jesus takes this victory here.

Even still. In this moment. I can’t breathe. 10…9…8…7… breathe Hannah. Dang it. Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Practice what you preach, sister. It’s time.

B. R. E. A. T. H. E.

Jesus is for you. Jesus is for you. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.

Thinking about it though, always thinking about it, the reality here is people are dying alone in hospital rooms with no family members in sight because they’re restricted from entering.

Can you imagine dying alone?

Oh gosh. I don’t want to die alone.

Can you even imagine not being able to say goodbye to your lover, your mother, your friend?

Can you imagine not being able to hold your loved one’s hand as they leave this world and enter another?

I can’t imagine it, really. I’m not even sure I can stomach it.

Why did I choose this career?

Or rather why did it choose me?

For the love of all things holy why did it choose me? God are you there?

Was I made for such a time as this? I’m not even sure at this point. Real honest. Raw truth. I’m not even sure. I was so sure though. I was so sure I was made for this, but now …

I don’t know.

I don’t know if this was meant for me. It hurts too damn much.

God are you even there?

Are you even listening?

This deep, gut-wrenching feeling of dread washes over me before shifts.

The anxiety takes hold. My chest is tight.

I cry.

I drag my feet.

Woah is me.

Do I have to get out of bed?

Snooze … snooze… crap. I can’t hit snooze again. I’ve got to get up.

My stomach is in knots.

Truthfully, I’m envious of everyone who gets to stay home in their safe space in this pandemic. The green jealousy monster is there, and she’s ugly.

I repeat. She’s there, and she’s ugly.

BUT, this career chose me, and ..

I get up and brave the day because bravery is what I was taught. Courage was instilled in me.

I was taught to not back down.

I was taught to show up. To. Always. Show. Up.

And truth be told, scared or not, I will always show up.

** Thanks mom and dad. You raised a warrior.**

Honestly though, I’m trying to stand, stand brave ready for the battle on the frontlines, but I can’t promise I’ll do it every day with a smile on my face.

I can’t promise I won’t have a breakdown or two.

I can’t lie and tell you I’m not scared because, friend, I’m scared.

I’m not scared I’ll catch it. I’m not scared for myself.

I’m scared for my family, for the people I love dearly. For my fragile, beautiful Nana, my wonderful Papa battling cancer, my friends, my parents, my siblings, my three month old godchild. That’s why I’m scared.

I’m scared for our economy.

I’m scared for the healthcare system.

I’m scared of what this pandemic will bring to our communities.

So, be patient with me.

As your friend, your daughter, your lover, your coworker, your respiratory therapist …

Be patient with me.

Most importantly though, pray.

Pray for my coworkers.

Pray for all frontline staff, your grocery store employees, emergency personnel, food chain workers. Pray. Pray for their families.

This time is taxing on us mentally, physically, and spiritually. We’re taken away from our corners of the world to do what we do. Take care of others, and you better believe we will show up.

But pray.

Pray for those directly affected. Those dying, suffering alone.

Pray for those forced to grieve without a goodbye.

Pray for the brides who have watched their wedding dreams slip between their fingers.

Pray for the mothers giving birth. The mothers who are expecting.

The immunocompromised.

The elderly. The elderly who have no one to pick up groceries for them.

Pray.

Pray for our country. Pray for our world, our leaders.

Once you’re prayed up, do me a favor. If you can stay home… STAY. HOME.

For all things holy and good stay the hell home.

And when you’re there in the quiet of your own home, sitting on your back porch with a coffee in hand promise me something. Promise me you’ll soak it all in.

Promise me you’ll soak it all in for those of us who can’t.

Soak up every single moment.

Promise me you’ll soak it up.

Soak up your children’s laughter. Soak up the frustration of trying to get them to sit still to do their homework. When they don’t understand carry the 1, soak it up. Soak up the mornings you get to spend with those you love. Soak up the lazy afternoons.

Promise me you’ll make this time count.

Promise me you’ll soak it up.

Promise me.

Love, your small town RT

Dear Daughter,

I see you.

I hear you.

I’m with you.

I will never leave you.

Or forsake you.

You are mine.

I want you to know something.

So listen up,

You are enough.

You are more than enough.

You are so enough I sent my only son to die for you.

On a cross.

Imagine it.

The agony.

The pain.

The heartache.

Nails in his hands

In his feet

In his sides

He did it for you.

I did it for you.

Because.

You.

Are.

Enough.

So why are you searching for approval from man?

Why are you seeking validation when all the validation you need is to look up?

At the cross?

At me?

Why do you fear tomorrow?

Or hang on to the past?

Why do you carry around the weight of the world?

Why do you feel like you have to?

It’s not yours to carry.
Sweet daughter of mine,

It was never yours to carry.

So.

Let go.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

And just let it go.

Let me take it from you.

You are loved beyond your own comprehension.

Beyond your own understanding.

Beyond the galaxies.

Deeper than the biggest ocean.

More than anyone ever could.

Even more than one who claims to love you most.

I know things are hard right now.

I know things are dark.

Darker than they’ve ever been, and

I know you feel like you’ve been in a season of

Waiting

Pruning

And purging

And you’re just ready for the mountaintop.

But listen.

The valleys are just as beautiful as the mountaintop. 

The valleys are where growth begins to happen.

It’s where I stretch you

And bend you

And form you into the person you’re meant to become.

So hang on.

Hang on to me.

I want you to know,

In this season,

I mourn with you.

I’m there beside you.

I’m there at the funeral of a loved one

Or as you comfort a friend.

I’m there when it’s 12AM

Your heart is pounding.

You can’t breathe.

You can’t fall asleep because your mind won’t let you.

And the tears overwhelm you and take over.

And the overflow of tears leaves your head throbbing

So much so you can hear your own heartbeat.

I’m there when you feel like you can’t go on.

When you get the most devastating news.

I’m there when something just has to give.

But it won’t.

Because well, life.

I’m there when you feel like you can’t take another step forward because you’ve been pulled too far back.

When your heart feels like it’s breaking into a million pieces

And you can’t do anything about it, and in your mind there’s never going to be healing.

I’m there when the physical ache of the grief cripples you.

And forces you into days of isolation and pain.

And anger.

And your heart aches stronger than you’ve ever known.

I’m there when you’re angry with me.

I’m there when your marriage is failing.

When you’ve tried

And tried

And tried again

But nothing seems to be the remedy.

Honey, it’s okay.

It’s okay to walk away because

I am with you.

I am always with you.

I’m there when your cat dies.

And the heaviness of that loss leaves you breathless

And numb.

For days.

Even months.

I know, she was your baby.

I know how much you loved her.

I’m there when life knocks you down.

When your pregnancy test is just another negative.

You got another period.

Again.

It’s just another harsh reminder that you’re not yet a mother.

I’m there when it’s a positive that you didn’t even plan for.

When you’ve lost another patient.

And another

In a 12 hour day.

I’m there when you lose your job.

I grieve your situation.

Every thing that pains you

Pains me.

I ache with you.

So, lean into me.

Lean in.

And trust me when I say

Rest.

Just rest in me.

I’m strong enough to carry you.

The grief won’t last forever.

The ache will diminish.

The pain will fade.

I promise.

But remember

On this side of eternity

There will be grief

There will be ache

There will be pain

But, I AM WITH YOU.

And I AM ALL THAT YOU NEED.

So, dear daughter,

I love you.

You are cherished.

And brave.

And loved.

And kind.

You are compassionate.

And giving.

And enough.

You are not a burden

Or a lost cause

Or too damaged to be loved by another

You are not too far gone

Or too emotional

Or too independent

Or too needy

You are not too much

Or not enough

You are perfect.

In every single way.

Every flaw

Every freckle

Every thin strand of hair

Every quirk

Every giggle

It’s nothing but beautiful to me

So to my dear daughter,

I want you to know,

I see you.

I hear you.

I’m with you.

But more than anything know –

I love you.

Always.