little posy

Finding my way through life, stopping to smell the posies along the way.


When I think of my dad, I often think of those small moments we shared. I remember holding his hand as we crossed a parking lot; my little hand only being able to grip around his thumb or a couple fingers. I remember dancing on his feet, barefoot in the living room. I remember being his “punkin.” I remember him standing, by himself, in the hall of my high school after my senior promenade. I remember him giving me away and dancing with me at my wedding, making sure that I was happy. He just wanted me to be happy. Yes, I remember the discipline and the disagreements, but it’s more gentle now.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him and pray for him. Today and everyday, I say, “I love you, Daddy. Thank you.”


Secret Pathway

This past Friday I had the privilege of speaking at my local Story Exchange in support of PASSAGES, Inc., a sexual violence advocacy organization. The theme for the evening was Secret Passages. I wrote and presented this poem with the intention of giving voice to thriving beyond survival. The stories shared were both tragic and inspirational.  I thank each speaker for their courage in sharing their personal story. For more information, including of how you can help, check out:

Secret Pathway

A secret pathway we travel
A mystery yet to be told
Proceed as our stories unravel
Hanging onto our souls, hoping not to be sold.

With divine permission we choose our way
Until overpowered by forces outside our own
Assigned the scars with no direction or clue
Now requires to escape the perpetual torment

Step by step, one strike at a time
Flexing muscles, healing heart
Necessary to navigate the upward climb
Innate survival directs the compass set to depart

Fighting fear, ignoring judgment
Learning to honor ourselves in renewal
From our strength we create a fresh settlement
On a secret pathway we travel

Wise Attraction

Why now? Why now am I being bombarded by learning of new authors? Why now have I met a new acquaintance who is a writer? That universe….I’m starting to believe that all the new age hype is true. Once you open yourself up to the possibilities, the universe answers. I had always been a doubter. What about those who are suffering abuse, trauma, and illness? Wouldn’t they get better if they only asked? Nonsense.

However, I am beginning to believe that when it comes to self growth and becoming your true self, ask and you will receive. Open your heart, ask, and become.  Repeat as necessary.

God teaches in pain, during recovery, and in joy. He is ever present, asking us to receive Him, his teachings, and blessings. Over the last month, the law of attraction has been in full effect.  This began only after I took a leap out of my comfort zone.  I was terrified, but knew I had to, and even more, I wanted to. Since my public reading, I’ve been exposed to 3 authors that I hadn’t been previously aware of, my writing friend enters into my life, and I’m exploring local freelance opportunities. Coincidence? Perhaps. Guidance? More than likely. Either way, I welcome it all! Bring it on!

In the Quiet

In the quiet. Here I sit alone in the house. Alone. No one here to tend to. There’s no fighting amongst the children. No dinner to throw together. The chores are on hold. I am alone. Just me, and I couldn’t be more thrilled!

It’s been a very busy, exhausting schedule for some time. Daily life has been grinding me down. Although the pressures have worn me down, the discomforts make me question and push me to look deeper. It’s now in the quiet that I hear whispers of God kindly reminding that all is well.

Sitting, resting without any demands I can see what I’ve lost sight of. I can see that I got lost in the busyness. Snuggles, giggles, and smiles went ignored in lieu of deadlines and obligations. Homework, grades, and extracurricular activities ranked over meaningful conversations.

Yes, our lives are overbooked, and we crave more frequent, deeper connections. But it’s here in the quiet that I find my appreciation despite the hustle. When we rest, we are able to regain our strength and vision. Here in these few moments, my awareness has awakened. My heart has rested. I am reassured that I’m not failing miserably at life. I am open to truth and rejuvenated by my blessings.

“The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still”
(Exodus 14:14, NIV)

The Awakening Has Arrived

The awakening has arrived
Open my eyes
Strengthen my heart
Remind my soul
Rejoin the living
Out of darkness; into the light
Step boldly onto the path ahead
Overdue and right on time, the awakening has arrived
Rays of light
A gentle push
A deep breath in before the step
The awakening has arrived

Muddy Suffering

I have come to strongly believe there is purpose in suffering.  If it was something easy such as losing weight, exercising, learning a musical instrument or foreign language, everyone would be so well versed. We like easy.  Easy is comfortable.  Easy has no requirements.  Easy has no movement, no progress, no development.  Observing the end of my father’s life, I had such a strong awareness that there was a purpose to his suffering and what we were about to experience in our loss.

I sat at the foot of my father’s bed as he slept.  It was his last night in the hospital.  My brother had traveled home and my mom went back to the house.  I stayed behind to talk with the night nurses about his medications.  As I sat in the chair, trying to entertain other thoughts than the obvious, I was still acutely aware that I was watching him die, and realized this is how people lose their faith.   I texted the sentiment to a friend.  At this point, my father was resting peacefully, even though I noticed his breathing was very audible and labored.  Although I knew, I didn’t know.  I had no idea of what was truly to come.  The next day he came home and later into the early hours of my 15th wedding anniversary passed away.

Was it an easy passing?  The answer depends on who you ask.  It was labored, but very quick.  My short time professionally practicing in long term care taught me that this process can drag on for days, and even weeks.  My father and family are blessed that his passing was hours long.  Did he suffer?   I’m sure he did, despite our best efforts to keep him comfortable.  I felt an overwhelming sense of relief the moment, the very moment he was no longer with us.  His pain was forever over.  I somehow was able to equate it with Christ’s passing on the cross.  “It is finished,” echoed through every fiber of my being.

Suffering has many ugly faces.  It can look like exclusion, pressures from internal or external forces, loss of a loved one, addiction, the absences of basic needs, struggling relationships, goal achievement, the list is long.  The reward becomes growth.  Likewise, growth has many faces.  My growth is finding the purpose and meaning.   is the necessary fuel your growth when you are trapped in the quick sand that is the “mud?”  I cannot pretend to know the pain of losing a child, the throws of addiction, or the pains of abuse.  It’s all pain, and each of us will know one or more forms.  What I do realize is there IS a purpose.

Is it because Christ suffered, that we must, too?  I do not know.  I believe that everyone one of us in life or death will suffer.  We cannot escape it.  My mother’s priest who presided over the funeral spoke briefly of the role of suffering.  The remainder of the service, we prayed for my father’s soul.  There was a purpose in every action.  This soothed my soul.  I had no tolerance for false reassurance.  Father Joseph spoke of suffering, it’s purpose, and the reward comes afterward.  The ultimate reward being eternal life in the kingdom of Heaven. I don’t necessarily believe God wants tragedy, but I do believe that he never allows it to be in vain.  I accept that it is beyond our comprehension to understand the inner workings of God.

I accept the suffering and its challenges because I have faith that whatever is on the other side of the pain will be worthwhile and more fruitful than I ever imagined.  My personal evolution confirms this to be true.  I would never have expected to be writing, or have begun to discover my authentic self without living through the pain and adversity of the past two years of grief, depression, anxiety, and health issues.  My gratitude and acceptance are just a few pieces that I’ve found in the aftermath of my suffering.  The rewards are not accidents in vain, but meaningful blessings.  Yes, it’s dirty and muddy that suffering, but it has a way of growing the most unexpected, beautiful little posies.

Wishes in the Wind

Wishes in the wind

Make me believe

Delicate and free

Seed of hope into the unknown

A destination of roots to sow

Wishes in the wind

Much to be seen

Miles to go

Fly away simple beauty

Carry my dream

The Fall Out

There are those times that change you.  Good and bad, that alter your being in a way that you are since and forever different than who you were prior.  Some moments are slight and others are earth shattering.  Equally so is the fall out, the period in which all of the effects of the cause are facing you, demanding your attention.  It’s the cleaning and repairing the storm’s devastation.  It can be the planning of the next step, or the hope of a new life as it gazes before you in your arms.  It’s the now what phase.  Barely mentioned is the actual event, let alone is the fall out.  As unprepared as I was for the event, the fall out holds a relative disorient.

I can’t go back.  I want to go back.  I can’t trade it. I don’t want to trade it.  It’s now a part of me, or I’m a part of it.  Pieces of me have remained, with some pieces now clearer.  There are those pieces that are damaged, and then there those pieces that are simply missing.  Some have grown, and some have disintegrated.  I’ve learned and grown.  I’ve also regressed, feeling that I’m starting over from scratch.

The fall out becomes the lost friends, a clearer and yet foggier, more confusing perspective all resulting in a new self.  You find yourself rediscovering yourself.  It’s an odd process.  It’s you, you know you.  You know what you like and don’t and need, right?  Only you don’t.  Now you discover that some things are no longer acceptable.  You find an intolerance to certain situations or people.  New sensitivities, interests, boundaries, and strengths grow from this intense process of self-identification.   Or maybe, you find a need to examine what serves you.  It’s a time of transition which Bekah Jane Pogue describes in her book, Choosing Real,

“When transition happens, it’s scattered with a gamut of emotions from one end of the spectrum to the other.  Starting is the exciting ideal, but it’s the journey through the middle where faith and identity are refined.”

This is where I currently find myself, transitioning from the event into the fall out.  It is here that I am finding the presence and purpose of life’s uncertainty.  Or at least, I’m working on it.  I am finding peace in the moment.  With nothing guaranteed, and yesterday in the past, I’m also learning the present moment is the sweet spot of life.  Even during the stress, I’m open to the lesson, hope, and growth that exists among the chaos.  I attempt to savor the delicious joy as it comes my way, not missing out because of preoccupations.  I’m making time to breathe in life, whatever its form.  I’m opening my heart to further explore my relationship with God, and allowing His presence to guide me; not the other way around as I’ve done previously.  I continue to recalibrate my filter to only focus on the truly important matters, not becoming overwhelmed with the unnecessary that occupies all too much of our daily lives.  I am giving myself rest, the place for all of this to be possible.

I know it may be a lifelong challenge, almost assuredly so.  Life will present multiple events, each one creating new, additional fall outs that will continue to alter my soul.  It’s up to me to find that space, that sweetness, or purpose to allow myself the benefit of true growth and strength.

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I believe in magic.  Present and all around us, it is happening outside of our control without explanation.  Sometimes seen, other times only felt.  It is never contained.  It can not, nor will not, be rationalized or controlled.  It merely exists and survives.  A child’s wonder, laugh, or innocence, the rise and fall of the sun and moon, the love that is awakened and stirred between souls; all are nothing less than magic.

Despite the darkest moment, it persists.  Magic bubbles and surfaces to surprise us when we least expect it, reminding us of the beauty in life.  Moments that are slyly hidden, teaching us to search deeper to discover its treasure.  Transversely, there are those embolden moments that bring us to our knees, cause us to tremor with emotion, and demand our attention.  In our most desperate need, it saves.  Magic has a way all its own. We can only bear witness to its power.  So make a wish, hold on tight, and let the magic shine its light.


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