Sunday, July 31, 2016


I don't know how you feel.
I have no words that will fix everything
but I can tell you how I feel.

Grief is a hole ripped out of your heart
and if you place your eye to the hole
you see yourself
staked to the center of an empty universe.
When life becomes normal it is still a minefield
of innocent words,
innocent moments
that trigger an ambush from your emotions.
They pull off scabs and leave wounds
raw, open, bleeding like brand new.
Which emotions? Good or bad?
I can't tell. I'm too busy
trying to wipe my nose unnoticed.

I used to think of Hope as a bright flame
that warms your soul and drives away the shadows.
Sometimes that is true,
but even when not, hope is a bulldog's teeth
that cling to Truth and do not let go.
In each ambush I feel storms rage
and I know I could be crushed,
torn apart by their fury,
but my teeth are still set

and I cannot be blown away.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Unexpected Gifts

On Sunday I listened to a talk on being grateful in the midst of trials. President Uchdorf of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints explained that we should have an overall spirit of gratitude even when we have little to be thankful for. I have heard sisters express this before, that they were grateful for the experience gained from a trials, but that it would be too much to be grateful for a trial itself.

Well, perhaps sometimes, but the talk brought to mind one trial that I am sincerely grateful for. One of my greatest blessings was a day of illness. Perhaps I had ordered something off at the restaurant we visited, because I spent the night exploding out both ends. The next day I had a fever and spent the day in bed. Why was that one of my greatest blessings? Because I spent the whole day cuddling with my baby boy, who would unexpectedly pass away just a few weeks later. I have plenty of regrets from the night he passed away, but one pain I have not had to face was the regret that I didn't spend enough time with him. There is nothing in his little life that I would change, and that has been a huge comfort. I treasure that day, never mind the fever, never mind the unpleasant night before. I don't know how many of our trials are like that. Probably more than we realize. For most of our trials, it takes longer than a few weeks to realize how great a blessing they were, but I'm sure that day is coming. Perhaps it's the author in me that looks forward to that day so eagerly, for the time when the stories are made whole and we can look back and realize the meaning and order and wholeness that were there all along.