Well we did something we thought we would never do this weekend. We added a puppy to our family.

Introducing our tiniest member Hudson. He is all of 3 pounds and has already captured our hearts. He is an Aussilier, so he is a cross between a mini-Aussie and a King Charles Cavalier. He looks a lot like our larger Aussie Sydney only he will be 1/4th the size at his max weight.

Months and months ago Karlena started asking for a puppy. I basically told her no it wasn’t going to happen. She has always wanted a lap dog and Sydney being close to 60 lbs is no lap dog! But I just wasn’t sold on the idea. Then a few weeks ago we were at one of Elijah’s football games and one of the other families there had this adorable puppy. We ended up talking to the mom and found out that it was a Cavalier. We talked about the breed and the size they grow to and I started to warm up to the idea a little.

We researched the Cavalier breed and stumbled across the Aussilier. Since we already have an Aussie, we were interested and discovered that there was a breeder a few hours away across the border. (Let me also say this…we searched every rescue in SD and MN and were not able to find a small breed dog that we felt would be right for our family. There are absolutely really good reasons to get a dog from a rescue, but this time it wasn’t the right fit for us.)

After we researched the breeder and read all about her puppies we decided to put a small deposit down to be added to her waiting list. I sent her a message on FB asking how long she thought it might be before she would get to our name on the list. I didn’t hear anything for several days. Then on October 21st I got a message from her…

October 21st was 10 months since Isaac died.

It was a hard day for me. Every 21st is and we continue to inch closer and closer to his birthday on November 18th and then Thanksgiving, Christmas. Ugh I just dread it. So 10 months felt hard and sad and honestly sometimes I feel like I am the only one left grieving, so it feels lonely too.

And then this message comes about the waiting list. The woman and I start chatting back and forth and I am telling her about Karlena. That she has been showing us how responsible she can be, how much she loves animals and horses. The woman says she sounds a lot like herself….we probably talked back and forth for 20 minutes or more on messenger.

And then she says she has one puppy available on the waitlist and she would send me a picture.

Dominic wasn’t home at that point and I almost cried seeing him. His coloring was exactly what we were looking for. He was going to stay small, probably close to 15 pounds, and if we wanted him he could be ours.

I showed Dominic the picture and another video she sent of him. We are suckers I know it…but we just knew he needed to be ours. So on Saturday we made the trek to go and pick him up. He was much smaller than I imagined. Maybe it is because Sydney is so big. But Hudson is bitty.

And he is perfect. He has brought SO MUCH joy to our family already. No this puppy doesn’t replace our son, but 10 months into the hardest season we have walked thus far….we needed some joy and he brings it. Of course he is a puppy and he does all the silly puppy things, but he cuddles and follows us everywhere, and he has slept through the night both nights without crying in his kennel. He is such a sweet boy.

We are all smitten. We just didn’t know we could love a puppy this much, but we do. So we are grateful and equally sad too. Because we know Isaac would have just gone nuts over him. But the reality is we probably wouldn’t have him if Isaac were still here. I think there is something to say about walking through grief, especially with your other children…things that were hard no’s before, you soften on. Because we recognize this life if so short and if a puppy can bring joy in the coming years…how do we say no to that?!

So we are crazy dog people, and it all comes at a time when our house is a mess because of a construction project but the timing feels right. Welcome to the family Hudson!

I feel like I should have some deeply profound words for today, but the reality is I just feel empty.

It has been 9 months. 9 months ago at this time I was preparing to go to a performance of the Nutcracker with my girl and some friends. I sat in the auditorium blissfully unaware of the news that would be delivered to us a few short hours later. Unaware that by then my son was already gone. It is hard to remember those first few days and weeks. Honestly most of the month of January is a blur too. Grief does that to you I suppose.

3 weeks ago our dishwasher broke {again}. It is a new machine, less than 2 years old and it has broken twice now in the span of 6 months. When Dominic called for service with our warranty company he asked when they repaired it last and it was March. I know we had to wait a long time to get it fixed the first time too. 3 weeks for service to come, then 4 more weeks for a part. I know hand washing dishes is a “first world” problem. But for a family who runs the dishwasher almost once a day, we now wash a lot of dishes in a day.

I realized a few days ago that I have no memory of 7 weeks of washing dishes back in Feb/March. None. I mean logically I know it happened, but I don’t have any memory of it. I wonder how much more I have forgotten in the last 9 months as we have tried to survive this painful path?

Today is the first in what has been a number of “milestones” I have been dreading. (His birthday, Thanksgiving, 1st anniversary and Christmas are quickly approaching…)

9 months seemed extra significant. Maybe it is because for 9 months I carried Isaac. While Dominic could feel his kicks every once and awhile, I felt every single movement. He was my treasure from the moment I found out he was going to be ours.

It was terrifying finding out I was pregnant, in college, out of marriage. I knew this wasn’t the “plan” everyone had for me, for us. But we were determined to do our best as parents. I know that we made a multitude of mistakes, but we loved Isaac so much. And for 7 years, before Gabe came along, he was our only child. We lived a lot of life us and our boy. And it will never feel right that we don’t get to live out the remainder of our lives with him here.

About a month ago my extended family got together to celebrate my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary. While we were together we hired a photographer and had her take some photos of all of us together. It felt wrong that Isaac couldn’t and wouldn’t be a part of that day. Sarah, the photographer had some ideas on how we could incorporate Isaac into some of the pictures. They are painfully beautiful. It isn’t how it should be. My youngest son holding a picture of his older brother. I am grateful to have the pictures and yet so very sad at the same time.

I am learning that may be a picture of the rest of my life.

I know it probably makes some people uncomfortable. Grief is a difficult thing to walk through. I have more compassion for another person who has lost someone they loved than I ever have before because I understand loss in a way many do not. I also recognize that for {most} people life goes on, Isaac’s loss isn’t at the top of mind for most like it is for me. While that grieves me (only because I feel like the world is forgetting him even if that isn’t true) I also understand it.

I am always so grateful for those that do reach out to me, share stories and memories. For everyone that has continued to pray for us, I know the prayers are heard and felt. I am blessed with some very beautiful women in my life that allow me to be “real” even when it includes the hard and ugly stuff of grief. So while I haven’t always enjoyed walking this path, I haven’t ever done it alone. For that I am grateful.

I just finished a book called Fear Gone Wild by Kayla Stoecklein. It is an incredible book and one that I would recommend to everyone. If you even want to have more compassion for someone who is struggling with mental health issues you should read this book. One part in particular stuck out a few days ago and I wanted to share it. It is where I find myself. It is the reason that I continue to try and share my life and my struggles here…

“When I have exhausted myself with the why, I sit in surrender, releasing the why back to him and acknowledging, “There’s nothing I can do.” I’m sure most of us wish the hard, terrible thing would just go away and God wouldn’t ask so much of us. If we could write the script of our lives, we would skip past the ugly and uncomfortable and fast-forward to the good, the happy, the easy. But there is something sacred about showing up to fight for our story. It’s in the fight that God stitches our one broken heart back together with new strength, new power, new peace. In every unseen moment he is carefully guiding the needle and the thread. And with each slow stitch we discover a hidden truth: healing is hard and holy; beautiful and painful, all at the same time.”

This past 9 months has been just that. Hard and holy, beautiful and painful. And God’s work isn’t finished yet….I don’t feel like I have made it through. But I will continue to give my heart and my life to Him and trust He is working all things for His good and His glory.

Isaac, I miss you so much it hurts.

Photography Credit: Photography by Sarah Jean

I came across an old email that I sent Isaac in April of 2018. He was angry with us and I was trying to share my heart. I told him that even though he didn’t want to admit it, he and I were a lot alike. At the time I had been asked to write out and share our story of unemployment and how it had affected me. It was an incredibly dark time and I felt like God wasn’t there for me. Looking back I was able to see the many ways He provided during that time.

I will be honest, I have felt so very sad the last several weeks. I can’t seem to get out from under it and once again it “feels” like God is so very far away. I know that He never leaves us, but I have felt alone. I wonder how often you have felt that way too? Especially in this most difficult “pandemic time.”

I wanted to share these words I wrote a few years ago as a reminder that God redeemed our hard before and I can trust He will do it again. Maybe if you are reading this you need the reminder as well?

REDEEMED.

Those words hang large and prominent over the French doors in our living room. A constant reminder to this word-girl of all the times that God has spoken redemption into my life. If we had all the time in the world and a few cups of hot chocolate we could sit down together like friends do and I would share with you all of the miracles that I have experienced in my now 43 years. I don’t use that word lightly and I couldn’t always see them right away, but there have been miracles.

You see in so many ways I was broken. I was lost and hurting and seeking something, anything different than what was in front of me. And yet I was stubborn too, certain that I knew better than God how to handle the unique details of my life. I spent years treating God like my spiritual vending machine. When I needed something I would pray about it and hope that I would get a “Snickers response” and not a “Bit-O-Honey response” (apologies to all my Bit-O-Honey loving readers!) I wanted God to give me what I wanted, and when I wanted it. And when He didn’t answer in the way that I had hoped, I would grow bitter and angry. Time and time again over the course of many years I played this game with God. When things were sailing along smoothly, I would praise His good works. I would write about His great mercies and seek to encourage others in their time of trials. But when my own trials hit? I was a ship tossed in a raging sea, water quickly filling my vessel and threatening to overtake me. I wondered where He had gone, the darkness came and it came often.

In 2010 our family experienced numerous changes. I was pregnant with our fourth child and my husband Dominic was in the process of starting a new job with a firm in Minnesota. For 8 months we lived apart during the week, cherishing our time together as a family on the weekends. While the living arrangements weren’t ideal, we had entered into the situation knowing that it would be temporary and that with God’s help we could get through anything. It truly was a time of growth for our whole family. We prayed together more than we ever had, we appreciated each other better and found gratitude in the little things. It wasn’t easy but it was the first time that I felt like we had really listened to God’s calling for our family and so I had great confidence in His plan for us.

In June of 2011 we moved into our new home in Southwest Minnesota. A perfect neighborhood, great schools and we quickly found a church that we loved. Everything was falling into place. And then in late 2011 the bottom dropped out. In a matter of a few short months we went from two high paying jobs with wonderful benefits, to both of us being unemployed, uninsured and facing the reality that we might have to walk away from our dream home, our dreams here and move into the basement with one of our parents. These were incredibly dark times.

My husband handled the situation much better than I did. Every day he would tell me that it was going to be ok. He didn’t know how, but he knew that it would be. He trusted that God would take care of us. Even if it meant we had to give up everything we had come to Minnesota for, we would still be together as a family and that was what was important.

I on the other hand fell right back into my old patterns. I sunk fast into a dark depression. I was convinced that we would not be ok and believed with my whole heart that what had only months ago seemed like truth from God, was actually a lie and now we were reaping the results of following that “calling.” I was so ashamed of our circumstances and what we were going through and it felt incredibly hopeless. I couldn’t see how the situation could possibly turn around. I didn’t want to accept help from others, I was so full of pride and admitting that we needed help was so difficult for me. I became fixated on the negative. If someone would say 1 positive thing to me I would quip back with 13 reasons why it was actually negative. I knew that I was falling deeper into that pit but I was certain there was no escape.

I started to imagine how things might get better if something happened to me in an “accident.” I knew that I had a couple of life insurance policies that could help cover our family expenses for quite some time, and I thought that would be the answer to all of our problems. Speaking those words out loud to my husband, and seeing the fear in his eyes when he reached out to my parents for guidance on what to do for me, felt like confirmation that I had completely lost my faith. Where was God anyways?!

But God was bigger than my lack of faith. He knew the path we would be walking, none of it was a surprise to Him and He loved me through my time of fear, anger and questioning. What I saw as hopeless, God saw as possibility. My biggest regret today is that I had a hindsight kind of faith. Today I can see all of the miracles and gifts that came from that dark time. I couldn’t see them in the moment but today I can look back and see all of the ways God took our ashes and made something beautiful out of them.

Shortly after this time, Dominic started his own business. It was a huge step of faith and we literally got down on our knees every day and asked God to guide us. We had the love and support of our incredible family who not only encouraged us but financially supported us for a time when we were unable to fully take care of ourselves. I learned how to say yes and thank you with gratitude and without shame. Going through that experience has helped us develop a greater heart for giving generously ourselves because so many people modeled that for us so graciously.

A year after the business was opened I had the opportunity to come to work with Dominic as his office manager. In those darkest of days I could never have imagined that one day we would be working together, side by side, running a successful business, helping others and providing for our family. I just couldn’t see the possibilities, I was so focused on the lies that hopelessness whispered to me. But it is easy to get stuck there isn’t it? So often we don’t have a choice in what happens to us, but we do have a choice on how we will respond.

Our lives today aren’t picture perfect, whose are right?! As often as we find ourselves on the mountain top, we too find ourselves in the valley. What I have discovered over the years of walking and wrestling with my faith is that God is there in both. I can praise him at the highest peak and He will be there and I can cry out to him in the darkest pit of the valley and there He is too. It was always I that had turned away, in those times that felt desperate and out of control and as though He had left…I was the one that had taken the reins, pushed my agenda, figured I knew best and tried to be my own God. If He felt silent it was only because I had turned my back on Him.

What I do have today is a greater peace than I have ever known because I daily, and sometimes hourly, give my life back over to Him. It isn’t always easy and I still fight the natural inclination to take control. But ultimately, I know what happens when I rein and what happens when I am willing to ask God to lead me. I have seen God redeem my broken places, take my emptiness and replace it with hope. He has restored my marriage and my family time and time again and I remain forever grateful. He is a good, good Father and He can redeem your darkest hour too.

Today has been cloudy and drizzly. One of those dreary mornings where, if I was able, I would crawl back into bed and stay there.

It has been a few weeks of hard decisions and quite honestly a lot of worry. School (for us) starts in basically 4 weeks. But because of Covid, we have had to make a decision if we wanted our children to follow whatever school plan will be in place in 4 weeks or choose the learn at home option for the first 9 weeks. I know for most of you reading this was probably a really simple decision. For some it is a matter of no other choice, the parent’s need to work and they need the kids in school. I get that. For others they have kids who need the social interaction with other students. I get that too. There is absolutely NO judgement from me in which camp you fall. I know a few parents who needed to choose the learn at home option because they had a child whose health may be compromised in one way or another. School may not be the safest place for them.

I fell in a weird, “I feel like I am a mom on an island” camp. Our kids did just fine with distance learning, we were fortunate to be able to work around their schedules and still run the business. I was grateful for that when this whole thing started in March. Our kids also recognize that school is going to be nothing like they remember it. What with staying 6 feet apart from your classmates and wearing a mask all day. It is hard to really socially interact under those circumstances. And while it will be good for them to see friends (or their eyes)…with the potential hybrid model it is highly possible that if they get placed in a class with no close friends, they won’t see or talk with any of them all day. That makes me sad honestly and it is a likely reality because we have so many 4th and 5th grades classes.

And then there is this whole “we want consistency back” after almost 8 months of grief walking and “new normal.” Not only have we been learning to deal with the reality of how Covid has changed our landscape, we have also been dealing with the grief of losing a son and a brother. I don’t want to make excuses, but I feel like having that extra layer of grief added onto this situation has just made everything harder. Decisions that seem so easy for others keep me up at night. I pray about them, begging for a clear direction and feel like I am not hearing anything either way. I am trying to discern if my feelings are based out of fear or sadness or sound judgement. And I am just not sure. It has felt overwhelming to say the least. How is this our reality right now?!

Added to that has been other life stuff, like dealing with and selling Isaac’s motorcycle. It is one of the last things that we have to take care of. And while I am grateful that the new owner is someone who has a tie to Isaac, it is also just another sad reminder that my son is gone. Maybe there will come a day that I can type those words without tears, but it isn’t now. He is gone. His scent is fading from his clothing. I guess I should be grateful that it lasted this long…but now that I am losing it, I feel a sense of panic almost. It is another reminder of how fleeting this life is, how nothing here on earth lasts. Not really.

There have been some of those unexpected losses recently too. Things you don’t immediately think will cause grief to flood in but catch me by surprise. Gabe took his ACT for the first time in July. I remember when Isaac took his, remember praying with Elijah for him as he was at the high school. I would have loved to talk to him about Gabe’s experience, wearing a mask during the test, his results etc. Gabe is finally getting to that place that he is now going through those things that Isaac did. Gabe took and passed his driver’s test and in 2 days we will go and get his license. Isaac would have thought that was cool. Not being able to share those simple, life moments brings new waves of sadness I wasn’t ready for.

I know I can’t get stuck in the what ifs. I can’t sit in that depressed place where I question everything over and over and ask God why. But from time to time it happens. I don’t cry every day anymore. We have made the choice to continue to walk forward and do our best to have joy in our home. And God has been gracious in helping us doing that, but this road isn’t easy. Today I am holding on to the verse in John 16:33 “ I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” God is my hope even when I don’t see or understand. This world is fleeting but his love and peace is not. Hold on to that promise today.

Photo Credit via

In late June our family traveled to Colorado for a week away. For the longest time I struggled with the question of if we should even go or not. Over a year ago we found and paid for our rental home for this trip. At that time we could have never imagined that we would both lose Isaac AND be dealing with a worldwide pandemic when we should be vacationing. Despite the heaviness that I felt, we decided that we would go ahead with the trip. We were staying in a home that was remote, on a mountain. Our typical vacations include meals at home and sightseeing/hiking…so social distancing didn’t seem like it would be too hard. And our kids look forward to these times away every year…we needed this as a family.

I will be honest though, I probably had the hardest time being there in Colorado. It was a place that Isaac was so excited to travel to. He had emailed me last July asking for the specific dates of our trip because he wanted to make sure he was the first person to request the time off at work. He joked that he may go out there and never come home. Isaac loved hiking and climbing. The mountains seemed to be a place that brought him peace.

So with every moment that was good and joyous and happy, I also felt the weight of the reality that Isaac should have been there with us. I suppose in some ways it will always feel that way. But, I am grateful that we are feeling and experiencing joy at all. I remember early on wondering if I would ever smile again and mean it. It felt so impossible. God has been so gracious to us. We absolutely had those moments of immense sadness but God has allowed us so many more moments of happiness too. He is good that way isn’t He?!

The  views at our rental were incredible. I took pictures of the sunsets every night. God’s beauty on display at every turn. I think in moments like this, when you see the full splendor of God painted across the sky, it feels like a gift. Like a reminder that in spite of all of the hard and painful things we have had to walk through…He can still make it beautiful. Every single night we were there I got that reminder. He is making ALL things new. Beauty from ashes.

I shared some pictures on my FB page and wrote this:

Dominic and I decided to hike to the top of the mountain we were staying on. It was called Scar Mountain. Fitting I guess. There were tons of butterflies at the top of that peak, dancing and swirling around. Isaac really would have loved it up there. I felt like in many ways he was with us. It wasn’t the same and honestly it won’t ever feel right to have him not with us. But I was grateful for that time and that place.