It was wonderful to wake up to beautiful blue skies and sunshine this morning. My normal behavior on a day like today would be to pull the covers back over my head and stay in bed, but that was not the case this morning. Today marks two years since losing Randy. It is a sad day indeed, one that could send me tumbling right back down the mountain I am working so hard to climb. Today is very different than this date last year. There is more to it than just being distanced from

When darkness invades my soul Pain permeates every fiber of my being Can I ever be made whole? It seems impossible to recover from this crushing blow I cry and weep and mourn what is lost It haunts every waking moment, like a never-ending nightmare, it seizes me, and won't let go I run from it, trying to escape it and be free But it chases me and hunts me down Then it drags me back, locks me up, and holds me in captivity How can I escape this prison? Oh, where is the key? I a

Whether we are dealing with disappointment, dashed hopes, deep despair, or the darkness of depression, our human tendency is to withdraw from God and those around us in times of difficulty. We often retreat inwardly, much like the box turtle does when a predator draws near. When a box turtle senses danger, it pulls its legs, tail, and head into its shell for protection until the threat is gone. Many times, we instinctively use what appears to be a similar defense mechanism wh

Friday, August 30th, would be Randy's 62nd birthday. As the day is drawing near, sadness is creeping into my heart with thoughts of all the things that we will never get to do together. When these thoughts begin to swirl in my head, I feel dizzy and lightheaded. Then I realize I am doing it again… I am holding my breath. It isn't something I do consciously. It just happens. I don't know if it is a common symptom of grief or anxiety, or maybe both, but I have found myself doin