Do you ever just barely make it through a season of your life? Then find yourself looking back at what you just went through and wearily and incredulously think to yourself,

“holy crap, I just survived that.”. 

That’s where I am at. Or maybe, that’s where I hope I am at, because if that season isn’t over, I need to be sedated. Maybe sedated and placed on a tropical island in my best bathing suit where I periodically get flipped over like a rotisserie chicken to obtain a nice bronze tan. 



 These words have been my hidden mantra as I have holed myself up in my bed, periodically looking out from the sheets and wondering why everyone else seems to be okay.

Seems to be happy.

Seems to be thriving and growing and most importantly:

 not crying.


How have i gotten through / how am i getting through? 


I find it in strange places. In the neighborhood cat I have fondly named Mr. Fluff, who greets me on my walk and follows me until I give him attention. It sure is nice to not be the only one who needs comfort.

 In friends who don’t even fully know I’m not okay, but let me sit on their couch, make me tea, and don’t ask me too many questions.

In family who calls and says, “everything is going to be okay” because they know that with them by my side - I can’t lose.

In Bobby’s strong arms around me that I'm pretty convinced are God’s greatest gift to me. 

In these fab moccasin slippers and oversized, fluffy coat (*). How do they make me feel loved? I'm not quite sure, but I'm just really thankful I can romp around in public in my classy pajamas and that everyone mysteriously thinks I'm making a fashion statement. When I'm actually just so gone mentally and emotionally that I can't even put an outfit together. If feeling okay in public while wearing classy pajamas isn't somehow love from the universe to me, I don't know what is. 

In the hugs from my FRAMILY (friends who are family) where I can feel their immense love and unwavering devotion pulsing out of their beings into mine. You all would be the ones who would be willing to flip me over periodically while sedated on the tropical island. Blessings. I don't deserve you. 


So yah, I don’t know what the purpose of putting this out into the world-wide web is. It’s not that I want sympathy or for my phone to blow up (because texting people back gives me anxiety as of late).


I guess I just want to write this in the hope that it meets someone's hot little handheld device and they read it and remember they are:


not alone.


It’s okay. I’m bleeding, sweating, and crying over here too. Growing is painful. Surviving is painful. Living is painful. But we are alive. We are trying our best. We are showing up, even if it's in our classy pajamas.


Hope is frail, but it’s hard to kill (**).


With everything I have to give,




* Link to fab slippers and oversized fluffy coat "classy pajamas":

**from one of my favorite songs off of the Prince of Egypt soundtrack, “When You Believe”