Living in Freedom as a Woman

Recalling our date night on Thursday, June 25 th , I remember everything seemed normal except for your Nascar laps around our kitchen area.   Our sitter had arrived and was wrestling with the kids. We went to dinner and came home. Later that night you complained about your stomach hurting.   I went to work the next day, got home the next morning, and we were headed to my brother’s birthday party for the day.   Well, Holly was not in a good place.   She asked me to come feel her abdominal area and stated, “to make sure I am not crazy”.   You laid down on the floor and placed my hand on the area you wanted me to feel and it was obvious at first touch.   I thought to myself, yeah that’s different and not normal.   I thought it might be a red flag if you feel something in your abdominal area that almost covers my entire palm of hand.   I don’t really remember what I said to you, but it wasn’t the most comforting words you have heard since you lost it right there on the floor. You see, I a

Life is all about choices… or “it’s like a box of chocolates”. LOL! Forest Gump is one of my dad’s favorite movies. I think he could recite every single line. Anyways, back to the point. We all make choices. Every single day. Good ones, bad ones… important ones… minor ones… Some of us are living in the consequences of choices we made years ago. Some of us are living in the fruit of a good choice. I realize more now in these last few months how every choice we make is important. Last week was not a good week. Nothing major happened. I really think just the weight of the last few months finally caught up to me mentally. Really more than anything I just felt tired of this journey. Not necessarily questioning why it was happening; but more of just longing to feel “normal” again. To not wake up and feel nauseous every single day. To be able to make it through the day without being completely wiped out, to have hair again. Truly it feels like some days that I will never feel normal again.

O the Blood- Gateway Worship (Kari Jobe) O the blood of Jesus washes me O the blood of Jesus shed for me What a sacrifice that saved my life   Yes, the blood it is my victory Savior Son Holy One Slain so I can live See the Lamb The Great I Am Who takes away my sin O the blood of the lamb O the blood of the lamb O the blood of the lamb   The precious blood of the lamb What a sacrifice that saved my life Yes the blood, it is my victory.   O what love, no greater love Grace how can it be That in my sin Yes even then He shed His blood for me Thank you for blood. Thank you for your love. Thank you Lord.   My love of music started as a child. As long as I can remember back. My Daddy loves music, he always has. That love transposed into my life as well. Anything from hymns, gospel music to the Eagles and the Doobie Brothers and then the soundtrack from Urban Cowboy. Every road trip we ever took was a full on singing event. We would belt out songs with such

Last week I got a precious gift from my sister.   It was this necklace with the words “Let go” inscribed on it.  Two simple words, yet such a deep and powerful meaning for me. Really sums up my life in the past two months. Before cancer, I worried about my worrying and my lack of surrender to the Lord. So many times people just told me.. “Let it go”. Really? That simple??   Then I felt guilty because I couldn’t just trust enough or believe enough. The bigger issue wasn’t my lack of belief; it was my idol of control.   The definition of “ to let something go ” is to “relinquish one’s grip on someone or something” .   I couldn’t let go . Then came cancer. Showed up out of the blue. This wasn't part of the plan.               Proverbs 16:9             We can make our plans, but the LORD determines our steps. I do want to clarify something. The Lord didn’t give me cancer as a punishment for not trusting Him or something else I had done. But, I do believe that for

"Sisters, sisters...there were never such devoted sisters..." There is a running joke in our family every Christmas since Holly and I have been married.  Our husbands, wonderful in so many ways, do not share our appreciation and love for musicals, especially our family favorite and tradition, "White Christmas."  Daron and Cory pretty much killed this tradition the first year we all celebrated together....SMILE.  I, however, can close my eyes, and suddenly I am around 10, Holly is 5, and we are gathered in our living room on 1504 S. Martin, dancing with plume feathers (thank you 1980's decor) and singing our hearts out to the song "Sisters."  I know we sounded every bit as good as Rosemary Clooney and the skinny beautiful sister whose name I never remember.  This is one of my most precious memories of my sister. July 9, 2015 holds a different kind of memory.  Around 9:30 in the morning, I heard my phone ring and saw "Momma" on the caller ID.