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A Brave and Wilder Love

"grief heals us, even though everyone wishes you would hurry it up and be okay already. Our tears baptize us, wash us, hydrate the ground at our feet, where we might now be able to let some amazing new plants grow." —anne lamott

my tearful gratitude.

Kirk says he just comes homes and cries when he feels like what I just described.


i am waiting now for tears, they pool at the edges of my eye lashes.

will it take away my fear to cry, no. but maybe it is the kindest thing.


We spent the last evening in the ER, Wilder has now had croup six times in his almost two years.


it is so scary.

yet i find myself so grateful for the overall mildness of his ailment.


torn, my heart feels torn. i have desires to feel free of my fear and anxiety, to breathe deeply and slowly without wondering what is next to happen.


PTSD? yes.

Motherhood? yes.


I respect immensely everyone who is mother, who risks themselves to such vulnerability and such love. We who have no control but to be grateful for the sweet moments we are blessed with.


God came over on Sunday night, escorted by two kind and incredible women who wanted to care for me, wanted to pray for me.


I was desperate for their hands, their words.


And somehow through our time, God showed up as a lion. Not a weak God, but a strong, ferocious One who wants to protect me.


A rainbow? A promise? That feels like too much to ask.

But, a lion. a Protector. i want nearby and have felt comforted.