Thank you, KJ. You beautifully put into words an experience I had when I was in a winter season 10 years ago now. A college friend questioned why I wasn’t praying, fighting for my physical healing anymore. “It just seems like you’ve lost your fire for God,” he said. I didn’t know how to explain then that what I most desperately needed was the grace to wait out the winter, the strength to make it through each frozen day, just as I was. Praying for the grace of this spring to warm you, day by day, degree by degree.
Thanks for sharing your hard-won realizations about healing, KJ. We lost our 30 year old son in June and you have re-emphasized for me what counseling, lots of pondering, prayer and sharing with friends have taught me. Healing and God’s work are not brought to us by prescription. They take the time they’re going to take and this realization took great pressure off of me to do all the things to grieve well. I’m thankful for the healthy things that are in place in my life, but I need to free myself from a time-bound outlook on healing. Thanks for reminding me and helping me to trust that formation occurs in the dark and beyond my control.
I’m not sure which made me cry more. The jeans, the rainbow, or the smiles and hope I saw in your words before I even made it to the beautiful picture of you in the library. Thanks for sharing your hard, your heart, and your hope with us. You’re a beautiful human being and I’m so freaking proud to call you friend! 💚
Damn. Your gift is in full force, woman. Those words are the richest dessert imaginable. But seeing the photo in the library featuring the sparkle in your blue eyes, all the words stepped back. There you are. The glow up is real. That rainbow had your NAME on it. THANK YOU for inviting us into this goodness.
KJ you always persevere and show us all to hope even through grief and anger. Fear of the unknown is holy as is sometimes hope is tears. Love and prayers ❤️❤️🙏🙏
KJ, I love all of this 😭😭😭😭 It reminds me of a book I read this summer about west coast wildfires and the life that remains vibrant underground even when everything looks blackened and dead above, and it felt really significant in the initial months of Ben’s diagnosis. I made a series of posts about it:
Thank you, KJ. You beautifully put into words an experience I had when I was in a winter season 10 years ago now. A college friend questioned why I wasn’t praying, fighting for my physical healing anymore. “It just seems like you’ve lost your fire for God,” he said. I didn’t know how to explain then that what I most desperately needed was the grace to wait out the winter, the strength to make it through each frozen day, just as I was. Praying for the grace of this spring to warm you, day by day, degree by degree.
Thanks for sharing your hard-won realizations about healing, KJ. We lost our 30 year old son in June and you have re-emphasized for me what counseling, lots of pondering, prayer and sharing with friends have taught me. Healing and God’s work are not brought to us by prescription. They take the time they’re going to take and this realization took great pressure off of me to do all the things to grieve well. I’m thankful for the healthy things that are in place in my life, but I need to free myself from a time-bound outlook on healing. Thanks for reminding me and helping me to trust that formation occurs in the dark and beyond my control.
I’m not sure which made me cry more. The jeans, the rainbow, or the smiles and hope I saw in your words before I even made it to the beautiful picture of you in the library. Thanks for sharing your hard, your heart, and your hope with us. You’re a beautiful human being and I’m so freaking proud to call you friend! 💚
I love this comparison to trees in winter! And I love love love that you have some glimmers of hope after such a hard season ♥️
((((KJ))))
thanks for sharing this… I can totally relate to it as I have been going through a recovery process from mental trauma over the last three years
Love, Prayers and Pixie Dust xoxoxox
Kelly
Damn. Your gift is in full force, woman. Those words are the richest dessert imaginable. But seeing the photo in the library featuring the sparkle in your blue eyes, all the words stepped back. There you are. The glow up is real. That rainbow had your NAME on it. THANK YOU for inviting us into this goodness.
Oh KJ I’m weeping through reading this. 😭🩵 Thank you for sharing.
This, right here, is what we’ve all been holding our breath for. You are budding! And what a gift to be your witness.
😭🙌🏼❤️🩹 Thanks as always for sharing, friend. There’s healing in reading your words, as I imagine there was in your writing them. So appreciate you.
KJ you always persevere and show us all to hope even through grief and anger. Fear of the unknown is holy as is sometimes hope is tears. Love and prayers ❤️❤️🙏🙏
Love this so much. Thank you for giving us a glimpse into the signs of life.
"I laughed out loud, surprised by the joy I wasn’t sure would return to me again."
Love, love, love.
This is BEAUTIFUL! Thank you for sharing. And I’m so glad you were able to write again and enjoy it. 💕
God, I love you. 💔👊🏻🌱☀️❤️❤️🩹😢🥹✍🏻📖🔥❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️❤️❤️
You are still beautiful KJ! Inside and out!
KJ, I love all of this 😭😭😭😭 It reminds me of a book I read this summer about west coast wildfires and the life that remains vibrant underground even when everything looks blackened and dead above, and it felt really significant in the initial months of Ben’s diagnosis. I made a series of posts about it:
https://www.instagram.com/p/CuuJxiOLtvo/?igsh=NzBmMjdhZWRiYQ==
https://www.instagram.com/p/CuuFyp_rycx/?igsh=NzBmMjdhZWRiYQ==
https://www.instagram.com/p/CuuNKYHLJae/?igsh=NzBmMjdhZWRiYQ==
https://www.instagram.com/p/CuuOfyOLXcL/?igsh=NzBmMjdhZWRiYQ==