the /grace/ between
The grace poured out between.
LETTERS TO MY CHILDREN
Hey I'm Molly - Army wife, ex-helicopter pilot & mother of five children, two dogs, two cats, a borrowed donkey, a handful of backyard chickens & two very patient horses.
I’m also an organized creative, a recovering Type A, and I can’t stop talking when I’m nervous. I love coffee, color and all things DIY. I write because it’s how I’m made to worship. I tell my story because I want you to know my weakness, and His strength. I write to recount our moments of fear, grief, grace, joy, and ultimately, redemption. So prop your feet up on my virtual kitchen table, pour a cup of ridiculously strong coffee, and stay awhile. I’m so glad you’re here.
So here’s my new semi-terrible discovery. There is a nonlinear expression in the physical nature of grief, not just the intellectual and emotional, and nearing the anniversary of my daddy’s death, the two are not working in concert. Not at all. My body has functioned...
2021 feels like a lament, a sacrifice, a burnt offering of time and sanity and presence. A series of goodbyes, both to the tangible and to the what-could-have-been. I haven’t been much of a friend. Or a mother, or a wife, or even a writer. I am stretched between them...
No matter what there is to say about grief, it's already been said. Still, this is new for us, so I am going to repeat them all. The Five Stages of Grief denial anger bargaining depression acceptance Denial The first week after dad died, I was mostly numb, definitely...