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Two Months

I have been out of sorts this week.  We just got back from a long trip, the boys have been acting up, I miss our families, there has been a lot going on at work that needs attention— these are just some of the reasons I have voiced over the last week to justify to others (and myself) why I was feeling off.  But honestly the sadness was deeper than any of that.  Then tonight I figured it out.  As I was putting Levi to bed, sitting in the darkness looking at his sweet little face in the dim light, it dawned on me… this week marks two months from our miscarriage.

Two months.

That week, two months ago, was one of the saddest weeks of my life. I cried more in that week than I have in years.  I doubted more in that week than perhaps my entire life. I felt more alone in that week than I ever have before.

But the thing is that I wasn’t alone… not at all.  And that is the motivation behind this post—gratitude, appreciation, love.

The last two months have been full.  Not just full as every Christmas season is full— full of celebrations and chaos.  That has been there as well, but the last two months have been full of little moments of grace— and that grace has begun healing me.

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The Power of a Simple Touch

hugs heal

Touch is powerful.

This morning was tough.  We are just returning from a ten day trip to spend time with our families in Arizona.  It was a great trip, but it was also exhausting.  We are all struggling a bit to get back into gear and return to our “normal”.  The effects on Graham, our middle five year old, have been more obvious… tantrums, disrespect, hitting, etc. As a parent recovering from the same exhaustion my ability to handle his behavior has itself been challenging.  As our confrontations came to a head after daycare this morning we both were so frustrated and overwhelmed that we didn’t want to look at each other let alone touch.  He stormed in the house yelling and threatening how he will never wear socks again in his life (that’s right, socks are what set him off this time). I unloaded my stuff and took Levi, our one year old,  upstairs for his nap.  I was happy to retreat to my room and let Brandon handle the situation.

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More is More

more is moreWhat?!? Just last week I wrote that “Less is More”! And now here I am writing the exact opposite.  The truth is that I think most of the time less is more.  We fill our lives with way too much— too much junk, too many time commitments, too many distractions.  Occasionally though, adding something to our lives is the right thing to do.  In these instances, more ends up being good, it can even be life giving.

I know, you are probably thinking “I am just wrapping my mind around the idea of simplifying, and now you are telling me instead to add more?!?”  Yes and no.  It is important early on in the simplifying process to acknowledge that it isn’t all or nothing.  I am not advocating for a life of isolation.  I am advocating for a life of intention.

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