Sacred Journey: Season of Despair

 The last time I shared on this blog was right after Christmas, Dec 27th. Embedded in the first paragraph of that post were the following comments…

   “Our journeys belong to the Divine. Our stories are about uncovering who we were created to be- our purpose on this earth.”

I believe with all my heart that our journeys and therefore our stories are sacred. I recently posted on Facebook, that being sacred or holy is about being connected or consecrated to God. So no matter the circumstance, God’s Spirit is within and around, behind in our past and ahead in our future. We walk the path together. It’s all sacred…

Even when it doesn’t feel sacred. Even when it’s messy, confusing, painful, or simply a time of silence or isolation. God is both present and providing what we need when we need it.. In the post of December 27th, I alluded to what a challenging year it had been. I didn’t share all that I had been feeling. The fall of 2019, I was dealing with the inner turmoil that can come when one season is closing and a new one beginning but still unclear. The truth is I was saying goodbye to roles that had been core to my identity and purpose. What now was my purpose to be at 56? The world expects you life to shrink with age. I wasn’t ready for that. I knew that there new possibilities to be discovered. While I began to explore some things, I was also dealing with the burden that comes from areas and people in my life that needed healing. Years of prayer had not changed those circumstances. Then Covid…

Honestly, I didn’t do well with the isolation. I missed people, smiles, hugs, serving. My life was work upstairs in a bedroom that often started at 7am and finished at 10pm. My husband saw the toll it was taking. While everyone else was trying new things like cooking or reading or exercising, I was withdrawing. I wasn’t writing or reading which I love to do. I wasn’t exercising which I desperately needed to do. When I wasn’t working or doing household things, I sat in front of the TV to escape the loneliness and despair. It was numbing. I was just surviving the day. My faith was strong and yet God seemed very far away. I began to think about how I wished God would just call me home. Not in a suicidal way but in despair. I was weary and lonely. The spark was gone that comes from hope and passion. I felt like I was wandering in the desert, lost without a sense of direction. 

While God seemed far away, He was always right there. But, He let me wander for a while. He let me spend time in despair. Then little by little, he moved me. It was like little by little after a dark night, the early shadows of light come before the sunrise. I actually began to share that sense of wanting to go to Heaven with others. I knew it was not coming from the hope of our faith but rather the hopelessness of despair. Putting voice to it took some of the weight from it. Then, I got to spend time with friends at our High school reunion. Being with people you love and the laughter is healing. I started walking again and listening to podcasts. I reached out to my network. Little by little the despair has lessened. More light was invading the darkness. Maybe even some of the colors of the sunset began to show. 

Even still, the spark that I mentioned earlier was not there. I was still wandering the desert looking for clarity about my purpose, next season, joy… I somehow knew God had allowed this for my benefit. I knew there was something I was supposed to be learning during this season. But what? And then, in a simple set of texts, someone I grew up with joked about being almost 60. Two days later I woke up in what I guess was a panic attack with those words echoing in my mind. Time was precious and it was fleeting. I needed to move forward. I wanted to live a life of purpose and passion. I need to be doing things that have meaning.

 Then, last weekend I ran across a podcast and a book by Paula Faris. It was about faith and vocational calling. It resonated with me. I read the book and listened to 20 of her podcasts over the 4 days. As I walked on Sunday, I was listening to one of her podcasts which was an interview with Jenna Bush Hager. In the middle of that discussion, Jenna was talking about Covid and how our lives slowed down. She said, “it was a good thing, because slowing down gave us a chance to understand what actually filled us up.”I stopped in the middle of the street and rewound it and listened again. Being stripped down allows the chance to see what is important to you uniquely. That’s it!

 Suddenly, it all made sense to me. Peace came over me there on the streets of my neighborhood. I know exactly what fills me up. I have clarity on that.  The void gave me a chance to understand the importance of how he created me. The gifts and passions that he instilled in me at creation are core to who I am and my purpose. The despair was a chance to ultimately validate what is uniquely me. Understanding our faith calling ultimately informs how we invest our time and energy. God never left me. He used the slowing down of life to strip away the noise that comes from busyness. Now, I can focus with clarity. Connected to God and consecrated to his purpose. Holy and sacred even in times of despair.

I encourage you to read that Dec 27th blog. Just as my journey is sacred so is yours. God never leaves us. He knows the journey, our struggles, and is in the business of redeeming  what was ordained from the very beginning,

Psalm 139:16 “all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be” Even seasons of despair. 

Our sacred journey home

It's two days after Christmas and I just said goodbye to the last child today heading back to their home. There's a sense of the journey its taken this year just to get to Christmas. Adjustments. Sadness. Isolation. And yet, Provision and blessings fill in between the lines of struggle. Over the years, I have written about my journey- the good and the bad, the gifts and the heartaches. I have held, sometimes clung, to the belief that our journeys are sacred no matter how we may feel, choices that we make or circumstances that we endure. Our journeys belong to the Divine. Our stories are about uncovering who we were created to be- our purpose on this earth. That process is sacred and leads us home. 

 As the quiet set in today, the contemplative process also began in anticipation of the New Year. What did I accomplish over the year? How did I love others or express gratitude? What did I learn that I can carry with me into the New Year? What are my hopes and dreams? How can I cling to the understanding of the sacredness of the journey despite the circumstances? 

 I think about the Israelites wandering in the desert for 40 years waiting to arrive in the Promised Land, home. It was a long journey full of miracles and hardships, wandering and battles, the awe of faith and the searching found in doubt. It was in God's timing and it was a sacred journey. God delivered on his promise but not without struggles. He used hardships to show his character and cultivate trust. By teaching the Israelites who he was, they could learn who he created them to be. Just like the Israelites, God does the same for us on our journeys. The wandering and mistakes really teach us reliance and grace. The times of want help us recognize and appreciate times of plenty. When we come to the end of ourselves, it allows us to be filled and to feel the power of the one who created us. The power of the Divine fills the weak. Each circumstance and lesson is a sacred part of the journey to home, the Promise Land. 

 I drove last weekend for a quick holiday visit with my parents. They live in a small town in Virginia. I lived there for a couple of years as a young child but have spent a lifetime of visits there. The house that was in my family for decades may belong to someone else now but it represents so many memories. Memories of my grandmother calling cows and buying us penny candy from the general store, ice skating on a frozen pond after a big snow storm, the birth of my brother, a summer trip in High School when I needed respite, saying a final goodbye to my aunt on her last night on earth and burying my grandmother. I can still walk in a store and see someone from my childhood. It is where my parents retired. And, it is a part of me. 

 I feel that familiarity every time I travel the roads to my new home which is really in the country. I see the farmers working the cattle and their fields. I love seeing riding lessons being given at the stable down the road. It touches me to see people care even for the smallest creatures like stopping on a country road to move a turtle to the other side so it didn't get hit. A community where small beautiful neighborhoods exist next to working farms and old churches. It is familiar to me because of my life experiences. It feels like home. And yet, not quite. But, a sense of community, hard work and beauty in the land is like a glimpse of heaven. It is because I take with me all my experiences on my journey. God intended them for me as he leads me into my purpose and towards home. My sacred journey. 

2020 has been challenging for me. There have been so many adjustments and isolation. And in many ways, it has felt like life was put on hold. It has been kind of like wandering the desert. I know for others, this year has come with great loss. While many losses can seem and feel so senseless, I find hope in the belief that there is always a glimmer of blessing that can come even at the darkest of times. There is more to our story than the worst choice, the biggest accomplishment, the greatest loss or the most amazing miracle. God still has plans for you and me- plans to give us a hope and a future. Sometimes those plans feel hard. Sometimes they feel like wandering in a desert. 

And yet, just like the Israelites, we are learning about the Divine and who we were created to be. The gifts and the struggles, the heartaches and the joy, and times of faith and doubt are all are a part of our sacred journey. We are all just working our way towards home. The more we take in the sacredness of the journey, the more we experience the Divine, the closer we feel to our real home. A glimpse of heaven come down to earth. 

 I hope you had a Merry Christmas and experience the sacredness of your journey in the New Year! 

 Much love, Sallie

What’s love got to do with it?

It’s Valentine’s Day...

I woke up feeling bad because I ordered a gift for the girls. It came later than expected so I didn’t get it in the mail in time. So, it will be late. Managing the boys as well and wishing I had gotten cards out to others. Feeling like a failure.

Expectations... Surely my family knows they are loved. But somehow missing expectations might just create a little wound. A sense of being forgotten. Then the mom guilt kicks in.

It’s now 3:30 pm and I still have some house cleaning to do. That’s how I spend my day off. We are having a nice dinner at home. In fact my husband is actually cooking dinner. But somehow I feel that if the house is a little cleaner, the dinner will somehow be more special. My expectations.

I just heard that over 27 billion dollars is spent for Valentines. Over-priced flowers, expensive dinners, gifts just weeks after Christmas, chocolates, cards, etc. It all adds up. And based on the line at Target this morning, I’m not surprised. Commercialization raises expectations.


Commercials in fact suggest that it should be a romantic evening. Tired mothers trying to gear up on a Friday night. Clueless or stressed husbands trying hard to show love. So much pressure to create a romantic expression of love on this day. Who set that expectation up?

Does this day not count for those who don’t have significant others? Those who don’t have children? What about those who can’t afford all that the world seems to say is required? Again, who set those expectations and how are we showing love to those who feel unloved?

Celebrating our relationships is important. It’s great to set time aside or give gifts. But shouldn’t it be a little more organic than just meeting expectations?

Love is the heartbeat of the world. Love is action-oriented. It is the human expression of the Divine. It connects us. And it is not just intended for those for whom we feel love. Our family. Our friends. It is more than the gifts. It is kindness. It is forgiveness. It is connecting with those who are different than us. It is reaching out to those who struggle. It is letting the lonely know they are not forgotten. It is a hug to those who are hurting. It is stepping into the loss and grief. It is restorative. It is healing. And, it is how God makes his presence known in and through us.

So, maybe on this Valentines Day, we can take a minute to think through how we can be an expression of love differently this year. How can we be the light that brings love to a hurting world. How can we create the powerful ripple that a loving expression can bring to a world in need of powerful healing.

God is love. And, we were created to hold the Spirit of God. So, be love. Not because it’s an expectation; but, because it is who we were created to be.

That’s what love has got to do with it!

Happy Valentines Day. Look for opportunities to make every day an expression of love.

A new year: releasing the burden

Here we are on the cusp of a new year, a new decade. Time to set a new focus. A new opportunity to grow. A time of hope and renewal. And yet, there is always this period of time between Christmas and New Years that I feel a little lost. Maybe it’s sadness. Some overwhelming sense of loss of time or even a little regret. This year has been no different.

I know God made me a person of words. Those words start as an unending stream of thoughts which lead to a myriad of feelings. Those personality tests focused on strengths reinforce that I am a collector of ideas but then need to weave those thoughts into a deeper understanding, a vision or strategy. I have to connect the ideas to something meaningful. That meaning connects to my faith, how I live my life and how I engage with those in my life. And so I write. I share my journey, what I am learning, in case it is helpful to others on their journey. And probably more importantly, I share because I have come to know that God is leading me on a journey to learn to trust him, to know him, and reflect his character back to those in my life.

Last year, I wrote a post about my focus for 2019. My goal was to be intentional about a change in perspective through:
* Being present to what God is doing in my life
* Accepting the peace found through the Spirit
* Claiming the power of God
* Pursuing God’s purpose for my life

The truth is I will carry those same areas of focus into 2020. I am not done with them and probably will never be. I had a lot to be thankful for over the last year. I spent special time with family and friends. I focused on my health. I learned from people in my community. I wrote. And I have reached out to support others in their journeys through coaching and a new Facebook group page for women. I am pursuing a new purpose in this season of life. I have seen God move this year in my life and the lives of others.

But even with all that I have to be grateful for, I have struggled to find words to describe how I want to pursue hope and joy in the coming year. Tonight though, I believe God is taking me further on a journey of growth and preparation. Some divine interactions- a radio program, an emotional personal exchange, some wise advice, and a book are catalysts for a new perspective. I began to connect the dots. To see meaning in those thoughts.

You see there is one place that I have failed to truly trust God. One place where my beliefs were being spoken but not being lived out. One place where I more often lived in fear rather than trust. A place like that for all of us is a place of burden and weariness. It is a place of heart brokenness and can cloud our hope. A place that we never feel like we are quite enough and yet we often cling to our supposed control. We strive to handle and refuse to relinquish the outcome. Or, at least that is my story. And I guess, God felt it was time for a little remedial training.

The reason I couldn’t find the words for my hope in 2020 was the burden I am carrying. Burdens come in a variety of forms. For me it is fear for my children. It has been my inability to release ones I love to God fully. I have continued to try to respond to them in the “right” way lecturing at times rather than voicing love and encouragement. And sometimes, if I am really honest, I have felt resentment or anger for the heartache that I am experiencing in response to their life struggles. That in and of itself is a burden.

What I believe is that the hills and valleys, the joys and tears, and the desert times are all sacred journeys between us and God. It is a sacred unveiling of God’s character, of how he created us and our purpose in this world. It is hard to pursue growth and experience hope when carrying burdens we were never meant to carry.

For me, it’s about releasing my loved ones to God. Honoring their sacred journey with God. I can’t lead that journey but I can enter into it through prayer. I need to find a way to love them and let God assume the burden of the pain and struggles. He has promised them plans to prosper and give hope and a future. He is the one revealing himself and guiding them along the journey. It is his role not mine.

He has also promised that when we are burdened and weary, he will give us rest. His yoke is easy and his burden light. In that, his Spirit offers freedom. And in that freedom, we are open to pursue who God is and what he has called us to do. Releasing the burden is the change in perspective that I want to pursue. I know that hope will be found in the freedom that comes from that. So, that is my vision for 2020.

If you are burdened by something, I hope that you find some encouragement in this to trade that burden for freedom. I wish you peace and joy and purpose in the coming year. With God all things are possible. Let’s live in that promise daily!

I am the woman at the well

I am sure some of you who know the story and clicked on this thinking, ”I had no idea that Sallie was divorced multiple times.” Yes, I have been divorced once but let me share just why I feel so personally connected to this story and specifically this woman. The Samaritan woman is carrying pots to get water from the well. The thing that makes her trip unusual and gives us some insight into her life is that she was carrying her heavy pots in the heat of the day. The custom of the times would have been for women to gather water either in the cool of the morning or the evening. Practically, it was a better time to do such hard work but was also time to gather together. Time to talk and laugh. But you see, this woman was an outcast. We find out later in the story that she was divorced 5 times and now living with a man. In those days, divorce was only initiated by men and was a public statement that this woman was unclean, unlovable, or lacking somehow as a wife. In that culture, the burden of the shame from not just one divorce but 5 is almost hard to imagine. If we are honest, we would still judge a woman harshly today who was divorced 5 times. This was also time when a woman would suffer greatly on her own. She would be fearful of starvation. Her life must have been full of heartache and desperation. The weight of that would be far heavier than carrying filled pots in the heat of the day.

Her situation touches me. Yes, I went through a difficult divorce. I felt ashamed and scared. But even before that, I carried the weight of feeling “not enough”, unloveable, unseen. I remember joking with my Mom when she had to introduce me to someone at church after we had been sitting on the front row of Sunday service my whole life. I played on the quote about Helen of Troy. I said to her, “I guess I’m the face that 1000 people forgot.” I often felt invisible. I can’t explain why I felt that way. I could not have had parents who expressed their love for me any more than mine did. I just think we are all left with a hole that is only truly filled when we understand what it means to be a child of God.

In this story. I can go there in my mind and walk alongside this woman and feel her pain. I don’t have to walk a hot path to get water to understand how she might have felt. I dealt with pain in the quiet away from others. I would get in the privacy of my car and just drive and cry. I did that from the time I could drive at 16 into adulthood. I didn’t feel that I was enough. I felt alone and yet, I needed to hide that behind a facade of strength. Because I believed that I was not loveable, I know what it was like to avoid people or events. Certainly when I was separated or after the divorce. I hid both a lot of that feeling and from people. I tried to avoid gatherings. When my son’s struggles with addiction first came to light, I felt such fear and grief. I questioned my own parenting. I feared others’ judgement both for me and for my son. I know it was there. I avoided conversations about what the kids were up to. I kept it secret for a long time. But, I also know God was there walking that path with me. He was teaching me who he was and he used others to love me and walk alongside after I began to let the facade down.

You see I am the Woman at the Well. I have walked the path of struggle. I have tried to hide my brokenness or avoid judgement. I have suffered consequences of my own choices, been wounded by the choices of others and experienced the challenges that come with life this side of heaven. And just like that woman, I have been met by the God of Love. This story doesn’t end with the burden of the journey. Jews generally avoided Samaria. Jesus was going back to Galilea. In John it said, “he had to go through Samaria.” He was compelled. He had a divine appointment. As this woman approached, he engaged in conversation calling forth the reality of her situation- her divorces and also, her desire to be filled with life. For me, I hear him say in all that- I know you, I see you and I love you. He went on to reveal his true identity as the Messiah. For the first time, He publicly identies himself as the Christ. Imagine- he went there to touch her heart, reveal himself, show love and grace to this broken woman, a Samaritan outcast.

That so touches me. I know he is the Messiah. I accepted that as child. But, he keeps meeting me at the well, calling me further into relationship by revealing the depth of who he is. He sees me- wounds, burdens, and fears. He reminds me that “ It is I”. He loves me. I am his child just like this Samaritan woman.

The story is not over yet. As the disciples arrived, she left her jars and raced back to the very ones who shunned her, the place of her woundedness. She shared with the those who hurt her the news of Christ. That is a miracle in and of itself. But the miracle got bigger, the people of her community listened to her and ran to meet Jesus. They believed. God used the outcast to bring others into relationship with the God of Love. That is so remarkable. And, that is such hope to me.

People have often asked me what has driven me to be so open about my challenges, my weaknesses, my hurt. The truth is I am the Woman at the Well. I have suffered at times and have carried quite a burden. The facade that I designed might have been the biggest burden of all. Through my pain, God has met me right there. He has sent people to walk that path with me. He has opened my heart to others’ struggles. My hope is that he’ll use me like he did her. Just maybe, being open about my struggles will remind people that he is waiting at the well. The truth is he walks the path with us. I know there are probably those who question why I do this or even judge me for what I share. That is ok. At the end of the day, if there is one person hurting in the quiet of the car, behind a closed door, or on a lonely journey, it’s worth it to me. I want to grow into the person that doesn’t shy away from a woman with 5 divorces but engages in relationship. I want to be the person who doesn’t judge but reflects grace. I want to be the person who sees those who feel unseen and engages in kindness. I’ve been there on both sides. I felt it all. The judge and judged. The unloved and the loved. The unseen and the seen. And, I’ve been met at the wall.

So yes, I am the Woman at the Well. If you identify with the pain of walking your journey alone burdened under the weight of shame or fear, there are those of us who know that pain and can walk with you. We have been met at the well with love and grace. We are learning the freedom that comes from that. We can help carry the burden or lead you to the place where you can just leave it at the well. God uses the broken, the hurting, the outcasts to bring others into his love and the freedom that comes from that. No matter the past chapters, your story can be just as remarkable as hers.

You can be the Woman at the Well too!

(If you are unfamiliar with this story, it can be found in John, Chapter 4.)

The year I ran a 1000 miles

This blog was started about 5 years ago when I was in crisis and at a personal crossroads. My son was struggling with addiction. I had been taken to my knees with the realization that I could not control or cure it or protect him from this disease. He had his own battle to fight. I had to let him fight that battle along with God. I could love and encourage but I could not do the work on his behalf. The other realization was that I had been so committed to survival- his and mine- that I had lost sight of my purpose. So, with the help of a counselor, we started to peel back the protective layers that had come from years of survival, fear, and the need to control. He asked me what my dreams were. At first, I couldn’t even vocalize it. Finally, one afternoon, I quietly said that I wanted to write. The problem was I had nothing to write about. I remember he looked at me with wide eyes and repeated my words back to me- you have nothing to write about? As we talked, he reminded me that I had a story to tell- my own story. A sacred story.

At that point, God went to work on me. I was scared to open up to what I needed. But somehow, God stirred in me a willingness to step out in faith pursuing him and who he created me to be. I decided that I would commit to running a 1000 miles in a year to honor my son’s journey towards recovery. It was a goal that was challenging as I was not really a runner. I knew it would require perseverance and commitment and it did. I fully expected that there would be days that I wanted to quit and they came. The running not only symbolized my son’s journey but it honored mine as well. My other part of this commitment was to write about my experiences, challenges, blessings and what I was learning over the course of that year. I wanted to honor what God was doing in my life as well. And so, I ran and wrote. I ran over 1100 miles across 5 countries. But more importantly, I shared my heart including my struggles and the gifts of insight that God illuminated along the way. It changed me. It connected me to others. It taught me so much. And, it was truly sacred.

5 years later, I sit at another crossroad. We have new personal challenges to navigate. The makeup of our family is shifting. My career is narrowing. I am quite conscious of time. Again, I feel compelled to pursue what God has in store for me next. And, at the same time, it scares me. What if my desires are selfish? What if I pursue something new and fail? What if I’m too old and my time has passed to pursue new dreams? And finally, what will others think of me? A few days ago as I was driving by myself lost in the turmoil of these thoughts, the words that came to me were- “the year I ran a 1000 miles”. Sometimes that’s how a writing topic comes to me. A phrase will come to mind. I know it means something and I wait. This time, it was meant to be more than a title of a post. It was a reminder of what God taught me the year I ran a 1000 miles. It is like the Israelites who forgot their rescue from Egypt or the parting of the Red Sea. I have been at a crossroad before. A different complement of circumstances but a crossroads of letting go and stepping out in faith nonetheless.

So, my goal is to read all the posts from that year again to remind myself what I learned along the way. A few big lessons immediately come to mind that I thought I'd share in case it’s helpful to you in your journey.

1. Sacrificial love is not meant to exclude your pursuit of who God created you to be.

He equipped you for a purpose. If you put that pursuit aside to live your life solely for others, you risk moving from a place of healthy love for others to a place of martyrdom. That can actually result in manipulating the situation in order to fill one’s own need rather than really support the other person. This was a hard realization for me. It was and still is difficult to let my son engage in his own struggles with God and move forward with my life. It was hard to accept that my love might actually be harmful to him while meeting my own desperate need to save him. But I learned that God has a plan to both show love to us and use each of us as a unique expression of grace in this world. It is actually in our circumstances that we experience the gift of grace. Focusing on awareness of what we learn then leads us to greater awareness of who God is in our lives. And it gave me a new way to express love not only to my son but others in my life including a whole new group of friends.

2. It’s ok to be vulnerable.

Certainly use wisdom here. But, I learned that it is a heavy burden to present an image that says, “I have it altogether”. The facade can actually isolate you from others or leave you in a very lonely place. Admitting to struggles, opens you up to receive love. God loves and supports us through others. His love is intended to connect us. Just as it opens us up to receive love, it connects us to others’ challenges. They see your vulnerability and suddenly they feel understood, less lonely. That connection allows you to share that love right back. I cannot tell you how many friends I have now who felt supported by my willingness to write about our struggles with addiction. They are the very people I feel able to reach out to now when I need to support.

3. Being present each day to the journey.

During that year of blogging, there was loss and grief, blessings and fun, obstacles and accomplishments. But running and blogging, kept me present to what God was doing in my life. I wasn’t on auto-pilot or in denial about my circumstances. I wasn’t overcome by loneliness or fear although I certainly felt it. I was being reconnected to my personal relationship with God. My pain was being healed. I was being restored. I was learning about who God was in my life and therefore who I am in him. I came to appreciate my story as a sacred story of God in the life of Sallie. I also came to understand the privilege of walking alongside others in their struggles and the gift of being God’s hands and feet to a hurting world.

Here I am at a crossroads again. This time I can remember what God taught me the year I ran a 1000 miles as He opens my eyes to where he leads me in this next season. I can move beyond fear and honor the journey. You see fear is just the catalyst to building faith. Faith allows me to be open to new opportunities. Those opportunities are the window to my purpose here on this earth. We are never too old to pursue our purpose. It really doesn’t matter what others think. God can make the impossible, possible!

If you are at a crossroads and need someone to walk alongside, first acknowledge that God is right there with you.

You have a story to tell. You have your own year of a 1000 miles so be present to it.

You have your own purpose. Seek it. Share it. Experience it.

Just like mine, your journey is a sacred journey.

Let me end by saying how grateful I am to those who encourage me, who read my writing, who pray my family, laugh with me and love me. You are the gift in my journey and expression of God’s love for me!

Kaleidoscope Moments

In the last eight days, I have had two daughters graduate, Mothers Day, and a birthday. And, in between those occasions, I went to a concert outing with music from my youth. As a woman at this stage of life, graduations, birthdays, Mother’s Days have a way of reminding me of my past and just how fleeting time is. Believe me, with all those happening in a short period of time, a million images like snapshots have passed through my thoughts and touched my heart. And at the same time, the words “kaleidoscope moments” kept coming to mind.

I really don’t know why. I can’t remember when I last saw a kaleidoscope. Being the introspective person that I am and believing those thoughts come up for a purpose, I googled it. There are 3 basic components to a kaleidoscope including mirrors, colored glass fragments and light. As the glass fragments tumble, the light reflects the color off the mirrors creating new color combinations and patterns. I even watched a video that showed the picture continually changing as colors and patterns fade while new ones emerge. The truth is the images are all connected. You may find some images more beautiful thsn others but you see that they are not separate.

It struck me- that is just how life is. As I was anticipating my daughters’ graduations, early treasured images came to mind. The first time I met my “daughter by choice”, she was seven years old and had just flown in from California where her mom lived. She bounced up pulling a baby blue roller bag and holding her American Girl doll. This image represented a life that she would lead going between locations throughout her childhood. It wasn’t something we would have chosen for her, but sometimes that’s just life. That image also represents a child who learned early and has become the most independent, resilient young woman I know. And even more, her life’s purpose among other things will be to help others be more independent and resilient in their lives. There was beauty to come from her challenging circumstances. That beauty is reflected on others.

The image of my other daughter was of a precious curly, blonde-headed three year old tromping down the steps with a determined expression wearing a pink tutu and a purple hornets cap turned backwards. She was a mix of beautiful feminity, individuality and strength of spirit. She had already been dealing with kidney issues since she was 6 weeks old. She suffered through many hospital stays and two kidney surgeries. Thankfully, the second surgery when she was in kindergarten finally relieved her of her pain. I saw her courage as she suffered, got poked and prodded, and even played softball with a catheter. She was sweet and tough. She was courageous and loved being a part of her team even when she wasn’t fully well. To this day, beauty and strength is exactly what she reflects. The richness of her character was in part born out of her pain.

I have thought about all my children in the past days. They have all experienced different challenges and losses. There have been tears and fearful moments. But that is part of who they are and the goodness they can reflect back to the world. Knowing that it is the light of God that allows for that reflection helps my faith and encourages me to let go and let God do his good work in their lives as he has done in mine. Walking through their individual challenges creates depth and heart. Their stories are and will continue to be beautiful not despite their challenges and obstacles but rather as a result of those vary situations.

And finally, here I am at another birthday. I have been through some really dark times and some very joyful times. Yes, there have been moments that have taken me to my knees. There are still times now when I find myself there again. And yet, it is all apart of who I am. God has sent people into my life at times to love and encourage me when I feared I could not take another step or be who my family needed me to be. And ultimately, the very pain that He allowed into my life was used in turn to support others who were experiencing similar challenges or pain. Light again reflects colorful ribbons of love to those who need it. I am just the mirror. And yet, we are all connected through that very love.

You see, those challenges were not just snapshots of life but kaleidoscope moments. The colored glass fragments are the people and experiences of our lives. We are the mirrors that reflect into world through the light of God. Every moment, stage, situation or choice, tear or smile is a part of something bigger- a beautiful, changing, colorful, and connected picture or journey. If we look at moments of time from our lives as simply snapshots of times to survive or mourn the loss of, we will miss the gift in what was or is emerging. Our kaleidoscope moments...

So, as my birthday passes and a new year has begun, I have taken a little time to look back so I can look forward to the next steps in anticipation of what is emerging. I can look back and see faces and situations. And yes, I have lost and gained, cried and laughed, felt weak and courageous. And, it has all been a gift. The colored pieces of glass are the faces that met mine in every situation, the words that encouraged me forward, the choices that required faith and courage, the prayers I didn’t even know were prayed on my behalf. I know that God has used each and every one to reflect the light of love into and through me. And, He is doing the same for you. Today, I see the beauty of the journey. I see the connectedness of family and friends, of those I have worked alongside of or served. They are all colored pieces used to reflect the light of love turning a moment into SO MUCH MORE- a lifetime of meaning and beauty...