Tag Archive | family

Take a Deep Breath

Apr22

I’m sitting in my room in my house in Orlando with the door to my back porch open and a slight breeze blowing in on this 72º late spring morning. I know it won’t last, so I need to enjoy the cool while I can.

And while I can, in the stillness, I take a deep breath.

This year, while it started out on a sweet note with the birth of a new nephew, quickly went downhill when we lost my mother-in-law on March 4, and my sister-in-law on March 12. To say we were stunned would be a massive understatement. And as both sets of ashes sit on a shelf above my living room window, all I can do is shake my head in disbelief.

The reality of being the only one left of his family of origin hit my husband hard. As we age, we begin preparing ourselves for the death of a parent, but losing your only sibling, especially one just 2 years older than you, well, there’s no preparing yourself for that. No “they’re in a better place,” “they’re happier now,” or “you’ll see them again in glory” can fill the gaping hole.

Glenna Reeves (12/16/62-3/12/2026) and Pam Reeves (5/8/1943 – 3/4/2026)

I wrote both their obituaries for the funeral home. As I wrote my sister-in-law’s I had to stop, wipe away the tears and think, “I should not be writing her obituary. It’s wrong that I’m writing her obituary.”

And it’s true. Death isn’t just a part of the circle of life. It was never meant to be. Genesis 3 tells us of the fall of man and God’s judgment that “for dust you are and to dust you will return.”

Just a couple of weeks after the joint memorial service, we celebrated Easter. Resurrection. New life. Everlasting life. That’s what’s meant to be. Not pain. Not suffering. And certainly not death.

So I take a deep breath.

This is a momentary affliction for our family. It’s hard. It’s sad. It means we are the ones who need to be there for our nephews who lost their mom—even though they are adults and one has a family of his own.

And what does this have to do with Earth Day? It means there is still beauty. There is still life. There is still hope.

I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
(Psalm 121:1-2, ESV)

Mt. Rainier, Washington. August 2025.

Run for the Hills!

Sep15

This post is part of the Five Minute Friday link up. We write for just 5 minutes on a one-word prompt with no heavy editing. Today’s prompt is “escape.”

In a few days my family is escaping still-hot Orlando and heading to the mountains of North Carolina. My daughter’s golden birthday (turning 21 on the 21st) became a good excuse to get away as just the 5 of us. It’s been a long time since that’s happened. The last time we all went anywhere together for a few days was my 60th birthday, almost 2 years ago. But we had my eldest’s son and my husband’s mother with us that time.

Our little family’s first trip to North Carolina in 2003. Dad is taking the picture.

This time, it’s just us.

None of my kids are married, and my son shares custody of our grandson, so it was fairly easy to make arrangements to go. A couple of missed shifts at work will be a bit of a financial hit, but both my working sons didn’t want to miss the opportunity.

The last time we went on a trip together was around the country in 2012.

Every once in a while, you just need an escape. If you have the financial means—and we’re very grateful we do at this point in our lives—getting away can be soul-saving.

We’ve been dealing with a lot of loss the past several years. From my father-in-law’s sudden passing 2 years ago, to close friends moving far away, to the sudden resignation of our lead pastor that threw our beloved church into turmoil, to many little stressors in between, we’ve been wrecked.

The mountains are calling, and we must go.

 I lift up my eyes to the hills.
    From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
    who made heaven and earth.

Psalm 121:1-2 (ESV)

It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Worst of Times

May19

This post is part of the Five-Minute Friday link up. We write for just 5 minutes on a 1-word prompt and see what happens. Today’s prompt is “chapter.”

With a nod to Charles Dickens for the use of his classic first line of A Tale of Two Cities, so far, almost halfway through, 2023 has shaped up to be … pretty much like every other year. There have been some pretty low lows, but some blessings mixed in. Overall, it’s been plain to see that God is good. He always has been, and He always will be.

Our last couple of months have encapsulated that. We’ve experienced severe disappointment, but we’ve also laughed, built relationships, and seen beauty. We’ve gotten to enjoy time with our grandson, who is growing way too quickly, and walked with our daughter through an unexpected breakup. We celebrated our 32nd anniversary in the mountains of North Carolina and attended the memorial service of a friend taken by cancer, leaving her 3 daughters orphans. We witnessed our eldest son earn his brown belt in taekwondo and said goodbye to dear friends who moved thousands of miles away.

It’s like two tracks on a railroad. Joy and sadness are side by side, and when you look at them in the horizon, they appear to touch.

We’re moving on to the next chapter in this sometimes frustrating, always interesting, not-yet-finished book of our lives that God is writing. We don’t know what the next chapter will bring. We’re just turning page after page, trusting that the author—who really is a master storyteller—will not let us down.

The good thing about this kind of book, unlike some long-standing series where eventually the author really has to move on, is that we get to spend eternity with the Author getting to know Him and the characters in our story even better.

What the Pandemic Could Teach Us

Jan8

This post is part of the 5-Minute Friday link up. We write for just 5 minutes on a one-word prompt and see what happens. No heavy editing allowed. Today’s prompt is “important.”

As we enter our third year of the global pandemic, there are some important things that I have learned:

(not necessarily in order of importance)

I’m turning into more of an introvert than I’ve been before, though I still like being with people.

Some issues should stay opinions rather than become canon.

I treasure my family (I always knew that, but it’s good to have it reinforced)

Just because the government says something doesn’t make it true.

Just because a doctor posts something on the internet doesn’t make it true.

Opinions are not something you should lose relationships over. And you should keep an open mind.

Not all science or “studies” are equal.

Going out and being around others shouldn’t be taken for granted.

Respect for others should be job 1.

It’s not worth losing friendships over. (I already said that, I notice, so I must think it’s pretty important.)

These were all just random thoughts that flowed to my mind as I typed. And in the remaining minute I have, I want to say that I have watched two really good friends have some pretty significant differences of opinion in the last two years, and they have probably lost a little in their relationship. But they still love each other and treat each other respectfully. And they both love Jesus with all their heart. And they love their family.

They just don’t always see eye to eye and that needs to be OK.

“Another Saturday Night and I Ain’t Got Nobody”

Apr17

This post is a part of the Five Minute Friday link up. We write for just 5 minutes on a one-word prompt without heavy editing and see what happens. Today’s prompt is “another.”

I don’t think Sam Cooke, the writer of “Another Saturday Night,” had our current situation in mind when he wrote the song. If you’re not familiar with it, the lyrics go on, “I got some money ’cause I just got paid. How I wish I had someone to talk to. I’m in an awful way.”

My husband’s 76-year-old mother with COPD lives with us, so we have been strict about anyone coming in the house who doesn’t already live here. We make an exception for my sister-in-law who has taken on the task of buying her groceries. That means that my sons and my grandson have not been here in at least 3 weeks.

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My mother in law feels badly that we’re making these sacrifices of having long-distance relationships during this time because of her, but that’s just what you do with a loved one. You do what’s necessary. You exercise caution. You spend another Saturday night (or Thursday, or Monday. Really, any night will do) watching a movie or doing a puzzle or playing a game. You turn to virtual venues like FaceTime or Zoom or Facebook Messenger or Google Meets to do what you need to get done.

Zayne and I have tried virtual story time with Nana, but he’s not much to sit in one place for very long. He just looks at the phone, looks at his dad and says, “I ready go Nana’s house.”

Breaks my heart.

But it’s not forever. Even though he’s used to spending 5 days a week here since he was 5 weeks old, he won’t forget we exist. I hope.

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Hang in there, bud. We’ll be back together again soon.

Who are you missing in your time of sheltering in place?

 

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