The Sacred

Sorrow and Joy

Saturday was a good day.

The sun sparkled in the July blue sky. So bright and so strong that you almost staggered under its light.

The grass and the trees were as green as they would be all year. The tomatoes in the garden were ripe. The roses were blooming and the birds were singing their ode to summer.

And my family was home. After being away at a camp in Kentucky all week, they had pulled in Saturday afternoon, exhausted and delirious.

After a supper of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, fresh tomatoes, and homemade chocolate chip cookies, we all snuggled on the couch to listen to stories from camp and look at pictures on all the phones.

The candles were lit, the washing machine hummed softly from the first load of camp clothes being washed, the dogs were curled on our laps. As the summer sun dipped low and the cicadas started to sing, we laughed and talked. All was well. My family was home.

And yet . . .

And yet, there was a painful silent acknowledgement that only a few hours away from us some parents had no children to snuggle with. No stories from camp. No yummy meal and no laps for dogs to curl up in. A devastating flood in our neighboring state of Texas ensured that there would be no happy reunions from camp for so many.

It almost seemed cruel. To celebrate when I knew others were mourning. To laugh when I knew others were weeping. To smile when I knew others were screaming in pain.

Sometimes the veil is so thin between happiness and sorrow.

I held these thoughts in my head all night. The unfairness of it all. And I wondered how I could hold the heaviness while also holding the joy.

Is it ok to do both?

Is it ok to have the beauty of life in one hand and the sting of death in the other?

Can I possibly manage the weight of sorrow and joy?

Later that night I looked down at my hands. Maybe, I thought, that’s why God gave me two – so that I can hold the beautiful and the broken.

Maybe that’s why I have two eyes – so I can see the hurting and the hopeful.

Maybe that’s why I have two ears – to hear the wounded and the joyful.

Maybe that’s why I have two feet – to walk to those in need and dance with those in celebration.

And maybe that’s why I have a head and a heart. To ask the hard questions and doubt the God I know and to cling to my faith when I do not understand.

Today I woke up early. I sipped coffee on the back porch and watched the dogs chase squirrels in the early morning light. I breathed a prayer for the families who were still searching for their girls from camp. I pictured their sweet faces and asked God to give them all the peace and love and assurance that they would need.

And then I woke up my family. I kissed their foreheads and I whispered how much I loved them. I soaked in the goodness of kids growing up.

That’s all I can do, I guess – love and pray, weep and rejoice, sing and mourn. Move forward while always reaching behind to pull those along who need help.

Hold the beautiful and the broken each by the hand, and walk this path with both.

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Happy New Year

Dear Friends,

Happy New Year to all of you – near and far and wherever you are.

You may be the type of person who makes resolutions or goals. You may be the type of person who doesn’t believe in that. You may be the type of person who celebrates a New Year with parties and fireworks, or you may be the type of person who chooses to ring in the New Year with a good book and a soft bed.

However you choose to bring in 2024, though, there is one thing I know for sure. Your year is going to be a good one.

This might be the year you get a new job! Or a new house! This might be the year your precious baby is born or you marry the love of your life. This might be the year THE ONE comes into your life and you are forever changed.

This might be the year you finally run that marathon! Or write that book! This might be the year you travel to a new place, earn a raise, get picked for the team, find your forever dog, or meet your best friend. This year will definitely be the year where good things happen in your life. I can guarantee it.

I know what you are thinking. This year might be the year where not-so-good things happen too. And I guess you’re right. This year might be the year of terrible loss for you, a heartbreak, an unbearable pain. This year might be the year that introduces great sadness into your life or something might happen that scares you more than anything else. I’m sad to say that good years often have bad things in them too. And I am so sorry that these things might happen to you.

But even in these awful things, the good will still be there. You know why? Because the good is in you. The good is in others. The good is in the very air we breath.

With every step you take, every inhale and exhale of your lungs, with every heartbeat, the good is there. It’s woven into your DNA. And it’s even in the birds that sing to you every morning. It’s in the trees dropping their leaves and the turtles sunbathing on logs. It’s in the smiles and the hugs and the laughter. The good is everywhere.

I hope you see that this year. I hope that you hear Goodness calling your name. I hope you know that Good always wins over evil.

If I have learned anything in all the New Years that I have lived, it is this – the more I look for the Good, the more I lean into it, the more I walk hand in hand with Goodness – the more I see it covering all of us. And it will follow us all the days of our lives.

Happy New Year – it’s going to be a good one.

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A Beginning of School Letter to My Kids

Dear Kids, 

Well here we are again. Another beginning of school. Another stressful few weeks of trying to figure out new schedules, new routines, new friends. Another season of firsts. 

It seems like these beginnings come faster and faster each year – one day when you have children of your own, you will understand. 

And because I can’t slow down time – no matter how hard I try – the next best thing I can give you is this – a letter reminding you to look for the fingerprints. 

You see, as you enter into this new phase of junior high and high school, those fingerprints become harder to find. I’m not sure why, but it probably has something to do with the world telling you to be the best, to never slow down, to roar and fight and conquer all. And because the world seems so loud and chaotic and consuming these days, we start to forget to look for the fingerprints. 

I know that as you go into this year, there will be so many wonderful things that happen. You will make some great friends. You will have fantastic teachers. You will climb mountains. 

But I also know that sometimes not so great things will happen too. You might get hurt by a friend. You may have a teacher who you don’t get along with. You will find yourself in valleys, I’m afraid. 

And that is when you must look for the fingerprints – On the days when you are walking through the valley. 

I promise you the fingerprints will still be there – they are everywhere really. But as we get older we quit looking for them. 

So kids, this letter is to remind you to never stop looking for them. Not when you’re 14 or 44 or 84. 

Seeing the fingerprints is what will save you. 

Where can you find them? And how do you see them? Well I’m not exactly sure how to explain it, but I can tell you that when you see them, you will know. 

When you sit next to a new kid at lunch because he’s eating all alone, and you don’t say much, but you give him a smile – there’s a fingerprint. 

When you see your teacher is having a bad day and you decide to not go along with the class joke of making fun of her, but instead you help her pick up papers – there’s a fingerprint. 

When you give up your seat on the bus for a kid who is struggling to walk – there’s a fingerprint. 

You see, we all have these fingerprints on our lives – we are covered in them. And they are fingerprints from something so GOOD and KIND that we never can get rid of them. And believe me, some people will try. Some people do some pretty awful things to erase the fingerprints, but they never can. 

Because those fingerprints are so full of LOVE that we will never be able to wipe them away.

And those fingerprints come from hands that will never lose us or let us go. 

Everyone has the fingerprints on them  – that’s what I want you to remember. Yes, even that kid who’s so mean to you he makes you cry. Even that homeless man you pass by every day on the street on your way to school. Even that teacher who gave you the worst grade you’ve ever made. They are covered in the fingerprints too.

Do you see them? 

I hope so. Because as long as you see them, you will be just fine. 

Have a great year. 

Love, Mom

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