Tag Archives: Healing

A New Year’s Hope for Radical Acceptance, Greater Kindness and Deeper Truth

31 Sunday Dec 2017

Posted by in Acceptance, Forgiveness, Glorifying God, Inspiration, Kindness, New Year New You, New Year's Resolutions, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Prayer, Seasons, Simple Living, Simplicity, Thankfulness, Truth of Heart

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“Don’t you find it odd,” she continued, “that when you’re a kid, everyone, all the world, encourages you to follow your dreams. But when you’re older, somehow they act offended if you even try.” ~ Ethan Hawke, The Hottest State

 

On this New Year’s Eve, I am looking inward and claiming my personally perceived imperfections and failed attempts, owning the disappointments and mistakes of the last twelve months, yet disallowing the negative to shackle me to the past. Ending the year on an introspective note allows me to acknowledge what I should have done better–without allowing grief and shame to weigh me down. For, I trust and hope for a new day and new year to grow kinder, gentler, better than before.

Would you allow that, quite possibly, the most delicate and treasured gift we can bestow upon ourselves during the holiday season is finding a deeper and lasting way to spread love and acceptance, by taking adequate time for intentionally glimpsing within, and setting forth toward a new year filled with anticipation and led by a healed heart bursting of grace, beauty, and acceptance? 

This annual interior reflection I practice has allowed me to extend radical grace and true forgiveness to myself, firstly, and the capacity to extend equal compassion to others in my life. Looking toward the new year set before me, I am feeling hopeful for the freedom of newborn chances, courageous to pursue my truth by way of my dreams, and the energy and faith necessary to walk boldly, yet, treading lightly upon the path that awaits me in the coming year. 

I want to take this moment to wish an incredibly, joyously Happy New Year’s Eve to all of my readers. My wish and prayer for you is for a safe and peaceful night, surrounded by love and friendship, and warmly enlightened by your own hopes for 2018. Thank you for your devout readership!

 

“I am larger, better than I thought; I did not know I held so much goodness.

All seems beautiful to me.

Whoever denies me, it shall not trouble me;

Whoever accepts me, he or she shall be blessed, and shall bless me.”

~ Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

 

Thankfulness for the Simple Joys

05 Sunday Nov 2017

Posted by in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Blessings, Change, Chasing Dreams, Inspiration, Journaling, Laptops, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Seasons, Stress & Anxiety, Suffering, Thankfulness, Tough days, Writing, Writing Goals

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“I have learned over a period of time to be almost unconsciously grateful–as a child is–for a sunny day, blue water, flowers in a vase, a tree turning red. I have learned to be glad at dawn and when the sky is dark. Only children and a few spiritually evolved people are born to feel gratitude as naturally as they breathe, without even thinking. Most of us come to it step by painful step, to discover that gratitude is a form of acceptance.” ~ Faith Baldwin

 

Today woke me to a somber mood that mirrored the gray Ohio skies outside my door. The wind is blowing away the temperate climate now by beckoning and ushering in the cold that will last for days on end. We won’t see sun until the end of the week, I’m afraid.

How might I feel an ounce of gratitude on such a dismal day? I light an autumn-scented soy wax candle and allow the glow of the orange flame to warm up the house with its ambiance and fragrant aroma. I answer a phone call from a sibling and feel gladdened by the goodness of spirit in the sound of his voice, and pleased we’ve made plans to be together on Thanksgiving Day. I sit with a steaming cup of tea and conjure up a dinner menu that will include my favorite roasted vegetables. I journal through my anxiety, type away the fear, and continue editing my essays that remain in-progress by diligently writing closer to completion.

My gratitude today is rooted in having a creative craft to focus on, noticing the plain and uncomplicated blessings that cultivate joy, and that my eyes, mind and heart are made open-wide by the gifts of simplicity.

 

“Forget about the money for a moment. Lose yourself in the wilderness, listen to the music of the softly blowing winds, feel the rain on your bare skin, let the mountains take the burden off your shoulders.” ~Kiran Bisht

 

Thankful for the Promise of Tomorrow

03 Friday Nov 2017

Posted by in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Attachment parenting, Baby Boy, Blessings, Motherhood, Mothers & Sons, Parenting, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Stress & Anxiety, Suffering, Thankfulness, Uncategorized

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Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful. ~Buddha

 

My morning started with a broken dish and burned bacon, unfortunately setting the tone for the rest of the day. Still, I’m thankful that I have a cupboard full of dishes and plates to use, and in the refrigerator plenty of food to prepare for breakfast, lunch and dinner. 

I’m thankful that Baby Boy was eager, for once, to participate in his music therapy class. Today was the first time he showed delight in being there this fall session. He has a new teacher and is part of a larger, more boisterous class than the summer group. Accompanied today by his beloved Snoopy stuffed dog also aided in his comfort level.  Even though there are only two more classes left to attend before the holiday break, I was thrilled to see him relax and enjoy himself more. 

Additionally, I am thankful that I realized, albeit late in the day, that he had left his irreplaceable Snoopy behind and quickly thought to return to the local church where the music class is held. My heartfelt gratitude extends to whomever it was that found Snoopy unattended and placed him in a safe spot where we were able to retrieve him hours later! The tears that my Baby Boy shed in relief when he saw Snoopy broke my heart, and I’m so thankful we were able to find and take Snoopy home this afternoon. 

Losing Snoopy only added to the ill-will of this no-good day and the stress Baby Boy has felt over the past few weeks by enduring a litany of tests, procedures, blood draws, and hospital stays. Today’s scheduled blood draw wasn’t successful at all. After being stuck a few too many times, he was fighting every way he knew how to get that needle away from his tiny body. His wriggling, wrestling, spitting, and struggling to release my hold was too much. Crying profuse tears, my sweet son was overheated and sweaty, wounded and clinging to me in a panic. At this point in the day, I was overwhelmed by the heaviness of our ordeal and needing to keep it together for him. My concern and heartache for my son and his rapidly growing, elevated fear every time we pull into the Children’s Hospital parking lot now has reached a level that crushes this sensitive mama’s spirit. This afternoon, Baby Boy had enough. So, I begged the nurse to stop. Further stating that we would just try again another time. (Preferably with another phlebotomist.)

Yes, it has been “one of those days” at the tail-end of “one of those weeks.” And we all have them, that’s for certain. Thankfully, my monthly restorative yoga class is tonight because I am craving the deep release and stillness. My mother-daughter book club meets tomorrow afternoon, for which I am pleased. There will be ample time this weekend for relaxation and reading, as well. To top it off, the sun is finally shining again! Therefore, I am now going to take advantage of this high-five from nature and get outside with my kids fueled by the attitude of blessedness for having both the time and energy to do so, while looking toward tomorrow with a hopeful heart.

 

At the age of 18, I made up my mind to never have another bad day in my life. I dove into an endless sea of gratitude from which I’ve never emerged.  ~ Patch Adams

 

Strength in numbers and my personal #metoo

18 Wednesday Oct 2017

Posted by in Forgiveness, Memories, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Sexual Harassment/Abuse, Stress & Anxiety, Suffering, Uncategorized

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“Beauty provokes harassment, the law says, but it looks through men’s eyes when deciding what provokes it.” ~ Naomi Wolf, The Beauty Myth

 
My father was a traveling salesman for a book publishing company. Part of his compensation package included a leased company vehicle that he would sign for every few years. We had recently moved from Hopkinton, MA to a rural Central Ohio town in the summer of 1986, and I remember the day he picked up his new van like it happened only moments ago. Inside the car dealership, the lights were so bright it hurt my eyes and the air smelled of stale doughnuts, burnt coffee and chemical-laden air freshener. While my father signed paperwork and smoked a few Marlboro Reds with the representative, outside, my siblings and I were restless for being there so long and stayed with my mom waiting in the parking lot for our father to return with the keys and drive the new ride home.

As if they’d know one another their entire lives, my father and the sales representative sauntered outside in the afternoon sun, smiling and laughing, probably sharing stories of the sales trade. My father introduced each one of us and the salesman kept his sideways glance fixed directly on me, when out of his mouth came the words I will never forget, about being a knockout of a redhead, those long legs of mine, advising my father he better watch out with me and the boys that would no doubt be hanging around, and maybe he’d bring me back in a few years for a test drive with him and my own car?

I was ten-years-old when this inappropriate salesman thought it was funny and completely allowable to take note of my young-girl looks and dream of my future physical stature, giving no regard to my blushing face, nor my father beside him. His lingering gaze bore holes of shame through me and his unflinching smile was sinister sweet. Back then, I was too young to understand the implications and innuendos spoken that day. After all, I was only in the fifth grade. Yet, the entire presence of that tasteless salesman–including the outfit he was wearing, his moustached and confident face, smug demeanor, and crushingly detrimental words–have haunted me for over thirty years.

My late father was a good and decent man–absolutely not perfect–but, good, decent, and protective of his children and he handled the embarrassing situation with dignity. And you can be assured that we never saw that salesman again. Though, a few years later, when it was time to exchange company cars, I begged to stay at home and read my book, to which my father did not argue, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Fueled by the news in Hollywood of harassment and abuse that too many women have sustained, I’m sure you’re aware by now of the hashtag #metoo that’s swirling around social media and inviting women to share their personal stories of sexual harassment and abuse. Within my own circle of friends and family, it is disheartening to learn how much pain has been inflicted and endured in the name of sex. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention, in solidarity with my sister-friends, that at ten-years-old, that sleazy car salesman without filter nor decency nor couth, was not the first male to assert his sexual advances or desires over me, nor would he be the last. Though, there are some stories I am not willing to share, and this is my prerogative, while willingly choosing to not let their egotistical, sick, dominating power clutch hold of me forever. I have forgiven, but it’s difficult to forget.

As a caveat to my story, I feel compelled to write and say to all of my readers, that despite my personal stories, devastating experiences, and real struggles with the type of boys and men that harass and abuse, I have known more boys and men in my lifetime that are good, kind, decent, loving, protective, and respectful. Let’s not forget that for as many abusers there are in the world, there is still abounding love, light, and hope around us, and boys and men who will work with us to fight against the social and moral injustices of sexual harassment and abuse.

If you are struggling with your own story of sexual harassment, abuse, or violence and are in need of help, please contact a local therapist specially trained in this type of trauma. You may also contact RAINN or call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 800.656.HOPE.

 

“You are stronger than you know.” ~ Lori Osterman

 

Lighting the way for those children lost too soon, never forgotten, remaining forever in our hearts #waveoflight2017

15 Sunday Oct 2017

Posted by in Catholic Parenting, Change, Infertility, Love, Memories, Miscarriage, Motherhood, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month, October 15th, Parenting, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Prayer, Seasons, SIDS, Suffering, Tough days, Wave of Light

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“There is, I am convinced, no picture that conveys in all its dreadfulness, a vision of sorrow, despairing, remediless, supreme. If I could paint such a picture, the canvas would show only a woman looking down at her empty arms.” ~ Charlotte Brontë

 

A flicker of light,

a ray shining through,

cast out the shadow of loss inside my heart

warm the chill of remembrance within me.

 

Annually on October 15th, grieving parents around the globe light candles that illuminate their homes in solidarity, united by brilliant luminance and the heartbreak entrenched by the grief over the children they have lost prematurely or in early infancy. The seven o’clock hour on this day, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, ignites the sorrowful hearts and minds of those whose lives have been tragically impacted by the loss of a child from miscarriage, stillborn death, and SIDS.

It’s alarming to read that ten to fifteen percent of all confirmed pregnancies will end in miscarriage. (Source: https://www.marchofdimes.org/complications/miscarriage.aspx)

Even graver, to learn that over 23,000 babies each year are stillborn. (Source: https://www.marchofdimes.org/complications/stillbirth.aspx)

A grim report from the CDC states that 3,700 cases of SIDS were confirmed in 2015.(Source:  https://www.cdc.gov/sids/data.htm)

“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” ~ A.A. Milne

 

Most every year, I write about my shared grief on this day. (You can read my past blog posts related to miscarriage here.) Miscarriage and baby loss has affected me distinctly and most profoundly, and these incredibly difficult experiences were, in fact, the initial driving force behind starting this blog years ago. Writing through the lingering grief in hope of discovering new sources of joy in motherhood, my intent in offering up these deeply personal stories of mine was, and still remains, rooted in wanting to reach a grieving mother (or father) at the right time in their own journey of grief founded in miscarriage or infant loss out searching for understanding, compassion, and hope. Some brave voices and compelling stories of strangers, comprised a sorrowful circle of mothers who had known loss like I had, were discovered by me in quiet desperation for answers, community, and reason. Through the melancholic melody of their words, these women offered my grieving heart comfort, validation, and most importantly, hope. I only hope my stories will be the same beacon of light for someone in need.

On that note, I would like to recommend a few well-written blogs penned by authors, much like myself, gravely affected by the loss of their own children:

https://www.freckleeyefancy.com/

http://www.glowinthewoods.com/

https://grievingoutloud.com/

“Write hard and clear about what hurts.” ~ Ernest Hemingway

 

Tonight at 7:00, my family and I will be lighting a candle to honor and remember the six children we lost in miscarriage, our angels: Agnes, Julian, Max, Catherine, John, and Francis.

“It is better to light a candle than curse the darkness.” ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

 

Please join me in this special lighting ceremony, from wherever you read, to keep the light of remembrance aflame, and honor the hearts of their grieving parents and families.  #waveoflight

 

“Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” ~ Buddha

 

Seeking joy in the present moment

11 Wednesday Oct 2017

Posted by in Inspiration, Journaling, Love, Motherhood, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Seasons, Stress & Anxiety, Suffering, Tough days

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“If you carry joy in your heart, you can heal any moment.” ~ Carlos Santana

 

When you feel anxious waiting for a call from your child’s doctor with his or her test results, what eases your stress? When a family member, living hours away, is sick again with the symptoms of his or her chronic mental illness, what can you do to effectively help them through the trial? When you’re feeling less confident in your abilities to weather the storms of motherhood while the days, weeks, years go by, how do you pick yourself up from your bootstraps and carry on for the good of your family? How do you decide to embrace all the hardships of your life, acknowledging tough days and challenges are here to stay, while attempting to seek joy for yourself in the present moment?

~

Today, I was overwhelmed by fear. (Rampant fears are the dirty little lies our minds tell us.) No matter what I did nor where I went, this nagging fear tracked me down. I couldn’t be rid of the mountainous despair despite my multitude of attempts to diffuse the lingering smoke surrounding me; I was left gasping and choking for breath. Acknowledging the named fear magnified the cloud; it clung to me. I wrote down the characteristics of my fear, though the words remained locked inside my core. Busying myself with mindless tasks only increased the solitude of my thoughts. Walking it out only intensified with the raciness of my heart, and the fear chained itself to my ankles, slowing my pace. Praying through it all was having ill-effect, opposite of what usually occurs.

Having had enough of this misplaced, ridiculous lingering fear, I ultimately chose to leave my Wednesday routine and unnecessary obligations to see if getting out of my rut would help at all to wander about my hometown for sunny solace and a change of pace. And you know what? Treating myself to an organic smoothie and favorite dish at a hip, local restaurant; writing in my journal amidst the hustle and bustle of other adults meeting and eating; feeling alive to the beat and vibrations of indie music and conversations surrounding me was the exact distraction my worried mind needed to reset and be relieved. Scrawling away while I awaited my delicious food, the entrapped words came out free and fluid, and I was able to write past the illogical thoughts I was harboring. A quick trip to my local library for a heap of new reads and to leisurely browse the stacks at-will only continued my newfound, released, inner-peace and I was overjoyed for the mental break.

On my way back home, refreshed and renewed, I realized it took such little effort to put myself first, for once, yet the benefits were tremendously rewarding and necessary. Especially in the darkened, tumultuous times of our personal lives, giving back to oneself is vital to maintaining the reserve and strength needed to weather the storms of the present day, and to face those unexpected, wrathful patterns no one can predict.

~

Please, find a concrete way to honor your heart today and you will feel the joy creeping back in–of that, I promise. If you’re going through a tough season, even if you’re feeling a little run-down or stuck in a rut of your own, try to remember to be kind to yourself and offer as much love to yourself as you shower upon those closest to your heart, for, you matter—every bit as much.

 

“Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow.” ~ Rumi

Don’t let the suffering break you

06 Friday Oct 2017

Posted by in Forgiveness, Peace, Personal Challenges, Perspective, Prayer, Suffering, Tough days

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“If you want a love message to be heard, it has got to be sent out. To keep a lamp burning, we have to keep putting oil in it.” ~ St. Teresa of Calcutta

 

Needless, senseless, unbelievably gut-wrenching, horrific suffering defines the week we’ve had in America. I think we can all agree on that point. Closer to home, closer to my own heart, it has been a week for terrible and tragic news, as well. A dear friend of The Girl’s was admitted to ICU with pneumonia related to her chronic illness. A family member went into premature labor, just shy of 21 weeks pregnant, knowing her daughter would die in her arms. A child of mine is having seizures, and so a litany of tests loom on the horizon for us at Children’s Hospital, and my resolve is weakening. More suffering, that I’m not at liberty to share, has occurred to others I love, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to make sense of it all; to endure, to persevere in hope.

Certainly, I cannot be the only person feeling like I have been trudging through a deep, glutinous mud, fighting my way to get beyond this week, reaching out for someone, something to pull me up and out of the mire? So, I pray. I walk. I write. I read. I get outside. I find extra moments of solitude. I pour love into my family. I eat chocolate. I seek joy. Winding myself back down to remember the simple pleasures of life, I can reign in my rising anxiety, and keep calm for the time being.

Though, when enormous, life-shattering events, like Sunday’s massacre happens, how do we keep moving, one foot in front of the other, when our legs are shaking, bodies tense with stress, minds weary with anxiety, and hearts so heavy with anguish for ourselves and our fellow Americans? We question and fear—that’s what we do. We become irate and upset, rightfully so. We recognize the fear we feel for our children and the future of our country. All of these reactions are justifiable and necessary, absolutely so. We must allow ourselves to grieve these great losses, sorrows and sufferings and then find a way, even when innocent lives are taken so dreadfully, to move forward on in love and peace. Or, the lives lost to such an epic crime will have been taken in vain, and moments for healing and forgiveness will be missed. And we can never, ever let Evil break us down, take hold, nor win.

Although heartbreak may linger for quite some time, the cracks can’t define us. It would be easy to lose heart completely, give into despair, and forget all hope that remains. Whether the sufferings we witness are felt near or far, we must try to commit ourselves to the greater good, be a light, offer prayers and assistance, move forward in love and hope, do better for each other, and reach out in sincere kindness. At least, that’s my goal– to continue moving forward knowing that we make our own choices: between hope or fear, light or darkness, evil or love. I know which road I’m constantly seeking and plan to plant my own two feet there, with courage. Please, won’t you join me on the right path?

“Do not wait for leaders; do it alone, person to person.” ~ St. Teresa of Calcutta

Embracing Change with a Joyful Heart

06 Wednesday Sep 2017

Posted by in Catholic Parenting, Change, Infertility, Marriage, Motherhood, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Seasons, The Husband, Tough days

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“Shout out to everyone transcending
a mindset, mentality, desire, belief,
emotion, habit, behavior or vibration,
that no longer serves them.”
― Lalah Delia

 

Transitions mean change that we are often leery of embracing.  Though, to continue through this lifetime, evolutionary movement is inevitable. In order to truly live our lives to the fullest, we must embrace the modifications before us, and all the meaning interwoven in the possibilities that change brings. We must challenge ourselves to seek joy, even on the unlit pathways strewn before us.

For the past fourteen years, The Husband and I have been focused on growing our family. With the onset of aging, and my reproductive abilities most likely behind us, we must transition to this new phase of settling in with the beautiful family we’ve built, and closing the door to adding any additional members to our team. The signs have been there for some time now, and we are learning to accept and move forward with great purpose, dousing the flame of “trying again,” laying all that we were striving for to rest. Always open to life, we would never say, “No” if the miracle of conception occurred once more, though, we believe that the likelihood of pregnancy happening again is slim-to-none.

Together, we move forward in what awaits us, graced to raise and cherish those lives we’ve been entrusted to care for, and joyful for the opportunity to dote on all new beings in our family circle, such as the recent birth of our great-nephew.  Change feels good, welcomed and peaceful, even. To not feel so raced against an hourglass of rushed pursuit every month and year that passes? Grateful rest. Having the sensations of feeling complete and whole as we are? Appreciative contentment. To hold and cherish a deeper respect for myself, my abilities, and the gifts I embody as a woman, wife, and mother? Self-aware confidence. To fathom that our dream was achieved and acknowledging The Husband and I conquered a great feat and won? Triumphant joy.

Some unchartered territory beckons before me that may not be paved in effervescent gold; certainly not. Although the newfound direction may surprise my wildest visions, I absolutely anticipate encountering loose gravel, hilly terrain, and perhaps a boulder or two to either push against with all my might, or climb atop—triumphantly, mightily, and with a strength found only from deep within me, built from all these years ascending mountainous trials I never expected to encounter. The scars and losses that sketch the landscape of my being are pure and organic; a heartbreaking fissure in my forever self. Despite the crosses I’ve been asked to carry, I still delight in the beauty that has emerged–more natural and miraculous than I could have ever envisioned. Life has deepened in meaning and purpose, and I will continue to seek out the joy in all that is left to live.

 

The Insurmountable Grief of Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Death

02 Sunday Oct 2016

Posted by in Infertility, Memories, Miscarriage, Motherhood, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month, October 15th, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Wave of Light

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“Some people say it is a shame. Others even imply that it would have been better if the baby had never been created. But the short time I had with my child is precious to me. It is painful to me, but I still wouldn’t wish it away. I prayed that God would bless us with a baby. Each child is a gift, and I am proud that we cooperated with God in the creation of a new soul for all eternity. Although not with me, my baby lives.”
― Christine O’Keeffe Lafser, An Empty Cradle, a Full Heart: Reflections for Mothers and Fathers after Miscarriage, Stillbirth, or Infant Death

 

In America during the month of October, advocacy campaigns support a list of worthy national causes, including those meant to raise awareness and support for the early detection of breast cancer, anti-bullying attempts, and domestic violence prevention. Though, a campaign in October that reaches the closest to my heart is the one that was deemed integral to supporting mothers and fathers devastated by pregnancy and baby loss.

In an effort to do my part to support those grieving the loss of a baby, as I have suffered six times before, I will be devoting my blog posts this month of October to spreading awareness and support. (Please feel free to read some of my blog posts and what I’ve shared in the past about my miscarriage experiences.) The blog posts I feel compelled to share this month will reflect on my personal story of miscarriage: how each of my baby losses have shaped, molded, and changed me; how The Husband and I have coped over the years with so many losses; how we have chosen to honor each of our angel babies; and what the grieving feels and looks like now.

My greatest hope for October is that you will join me in spreading awareness of pregnancy and baby loss, perhaps by lending your support to those suffering this insurmountable pain, and honoring all the children that gained their angels’ wings before their precious feet ever touched the ground. Thank you, gentle and kind readers.

Have you suffered a miscarriage or experienced the loss of a baby? What support do you wish you had during that time of loss and grief? Does sharing your story—through writing, creating art,  talking about the experience, or honoring your child(ren)in a special way—help at all?

Why My Forehead is Clear of Ashes Today

18 Wednesday Feb 2015

Posted by in Ash Wednesday, Change, Glorifying God, Lent, Tough days

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“Although the life of a person is in a land full of thorns and weeds, there is always a space in which the good seed can grow. You have to trust God.”

~ Pope Francis

Today is Ash Wednesday. The Christian’s forty days of Lent has begun as it does each and every year. As Catholics, wearing the mark of a cross of ashes on one’s forehead represents the start of our most sacred time of year, preparing ourselves for Easter, and moving ourselves personally from darkness to light.

Today, I had good intentions of attending Mass with my son and his first grade class at our home parish. Instead, he is with Baby Girl and me, resting and fighting off a chest cold. To be quite honest, I’m not fasting today, either. At 35 weeks pregnant with another son, I’m finding it difficult to do much of anything these days but eat, rest, repeat. I’m making my sacrifices in other ways, however. Such as giving up social media, praying more whenever my anxiety levels kick in, going to bed earlier rather than staying up late to watch a show or read a novel.

This Lent, I’m slowing it down and taking each day as it comes. During the first six weeks of 2015, God has thrown my family quite the curveball and we’ve been carrying a heavy cross upon our hearts and shoulders ever since. In moving towards acceptance of some horrific realities as of late, I’m trying to leave the future in His hands, trying to let go of the guilt I feel, and trying to embrace this new normal for our lives. In my heart, I pray that the isolation we’re feeling is only temporary—no matter how long a time we must endure the pain.

The days have been long, tedious, heart-wrenching, and unimaginable–much like the beating, gripping, wretched journey Christ, himself, traveled. Even though it feels like our family is being pulled apart in too many directions, that we’re unraveling at the seams, I know God has a plan for our lives—and especially for the lives of our family members experiencing the most pain, facing the greatest challenges, carrying the heaviest crosses of their lives.

This Lent, I’m taking the advice of Pope Francis, quoted above, and trusting more in God. I must. I see no other way.