Praises of a Wife and Mommy

Well, here is a quick picture and update as I haven't said much in a few weeks.   Healing takes time and I am learning to accept it!    

Last week was something I’ll never forget. We got to see the Northern Lights right here in Iowa, something I’ve always dreamed of witnessing. Science explains that a solar storm made it possible for the skies in our area to light up… but I can’t help but see the hand of God in it all. Psalm 19:1 kept echoing in my heart: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands.” And wow… they truly did. It started when I stepped out onto the deck and caught the faint glow in the sky. That was all it took—we grabbed the boy and headed to the school football field where it’s a bit darker and more “country.” Even on the drive there, we saw soft streaks of pink glowing across the sky. When we finally parked and looked up, the sky began shifting with greens and pinks, dancing slowly, almost shyly, but so full of wonder. Yes, I know the cameras can pick up colors and movements our eyes can’t fully capture… but I will forever carry a handful of images in my mind that I...

Since my daughter missed cross country practice for All State, we headed to the track together so she could get her workout in. As I watched her stretch and warm up, I realized—why not take this opportunity to stretch myself too? After all, physical therapy starts soon, and I could use a little practice. So I grabbed my crutches and started walking the track. One lap… then another. The cool air filled my lungs, and I felt thankful for the movement. Then, something stirred inside me—courage. I decided to take a few steps without the crutches. It wasn’t pretty, and it certainly wasn’t fast, but it was progress. It was freedom. That moment reminded me that healing doesn’t always come in leaps—it often comes in steady, faithful steps. Each step, no matter how small, was a declaration: God, You’re still strengthening me. My daughter and I may be training for two very different races right now—hers on the track, mine in physical therapy—but both require endurance, faith, and focus. She’s tra...

Hebrews 10:36 has been my anchor lately. I’ve written it on photos of my scar and legs, because I need the constant reminder: “Patient endurance is what you need now, so that you will continue to do God’s will. Then you will receive all that he has promised.” — Hebrews 10:36 (NLT) Those two words, patient endurance, carry so much weight. They sound so simple until you’re in the middle of the process. Healing has a way of showing us what those words really mean. It’s the patient part that stretches me, waiting for progress, waiting for strength, waiting for normal. And it’s the endurance part that builds me, pushing through the pain, the swelling, the setbacks, and still choosing to believe that better days are coming. This season has reminded me that both can exist together. I can be grateful and frustrated. Strong and sore. Hopeful and tired. Healing is not linear, but it is purposeful. God is using every ache and every delay to shape me into someone stronger, not just physically bu...

Well, Monday brought another doctor appointment. He looked at my scar and seemed pleased. He asked about weight-bearing and again seemed pleased. Then he said the words I knew were coming but still made my stomach drop a little: “It’s time to start physical therapy.” Three times a week for six weeks. Whew. That’s a whole lot! I know it’s necessary, and I know it’ll help me get stronger, but I also know it’s going to hurt. How does one prepare for that kind of “good pain”? How do I wrap my brain around the fact that something that’s going to be uncomfortable is actually exactly what I need?  (When I got to the PT place to make appointments they actually only scheduled me two times a week and said the PT would discuss if we needed a 3 one.) So, I’ve asked for prayers — and I treasure every single one.  I’ve noticed I’m starting to bear more than 50% of my weight now, which feels amazing. At school last week, I found myself using my crutches more and scooting less. Every small v...

 I was so proud of myself! I walked with my crutches through the downtown of my town — a longer walk than usual — and it felt so good to set a goal and reach it! The weather for fall was so beautiful as well and I wanted that Vitamin D so much!  Later that night, I had to make a Walmart run and thought, “Why not keep walking? No scooter tonight.” Well… once I got out of the car, I quickly realized how sore my hands were from all that crutching earlier.  So I humbly decided to embrace the Walmart scooters. Let’s just say… going backwards is so incredibly slow , but I still had fun! While zooming (or creeping) through the aisles, I ended up talking to three other people using scooters, too. One couple, probably in their 80s, completely made my night. The gentleman looked right at me and said, " Darling, never stop smiling!" His kind words and twinkling blue eyes just melted my heart. I instantly thought, Can I adopt them as my grandparents? You see, I didn’t have any...

  What a perfect fall day! The sun was shining, the air was crisp, and I knew it was time to take a few more literal steps in this healing journey. So, Baylee and I packed up the crutches and headed to the levee... well she drove me there because that would have been a walk just getting their.   Now, when I say I walked a trail, don’t picture some long, scenic marathon moment. We’re talking maybe 1/6 of a mile  which to some might sound small, but to me?  It felt like victory and freedom!  There I was, crutching my way along this brand new little path, feeling the breeze and hearing the water nearby. I can’t tell you how good it felt to be outside again surrounded by a few trees starting to show their fall colors and the calm ripple of the river beside me. There’s just something about the water that draws me closer to God’s presence. When I finally sat on a small bridge and just breathed , I felt it deep in my soul, that peace that only comes from Him...

There’s something about a sunrise that speaks straight to my soul. Maybe it’s the stillness before the world fully wakes up, or maybe it’s how the colors seem freshly brushed onto the sky by the hand of my Creator.  Every morning, I feel this quiet whisper from God “I’m still here. I’m still painting beauty into your story.” Healing has brought some hard evenings lately… the kind where the pain feels stronger, the emotions run deep, and tears come a little easier. Those nights can feel long and sometimes lonely. But then morning comes, and with it, a reminder that His mercies really are new every morning. Psalm 30:5 says, “Weeping may stay for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” And I’ve felt that deeply.  Not because the pain magically disappears, but because His presence brings light into the darkness.  When I see the sunrise, I feel close to Him, like He’s reminding me that no night lasts forever.   Each morning sky tells me He’s still working, ...

 Week 7 turned out to be one of the hardest weeks yet. After getting the boot, everything felt heavier — literally and emotionally. My body was adjusting to bearing more weight, but my spirit was also feeling the weight of life. It was a full week with parent-teacher conferences that went late into the night, plus the balance of trying to walk again, and then two funerals and visitations to attend while wearing my pastoral hat. If I’m honest, I really wanted to be at those visitations. Just over a year ago, I earned my chaplaincy certificate and was filled with excitement for what God would do with it. I’m still waiting — waiting for the right season, the right timing, the right open door. But in the meantime, He keeps reminding me that being present for people, even when I’m still healing myself, matters. By Wednesday night, I hit my breaking point. I had been at school since early morning and worked until 8 p.m., but I was given permission to leave for a bit to attend a visit...

  Teaching high school has been a new adventure after 13 years in the elementary world, and I continue to be amazed at how God uses the smallest moments to touch my heart. One of my students shared with me about his own healing journey — he had surgery about a year ago and used a walker for a while. As we talked, he told me how much he loved elderberry syrup and asked if I’d ever tried it. I said no, but I’d love to. The next day, he showed up with the cutest little gift bag — inside was a small jar of homemade elderberry syrup. It had the perfect blend of cinnamon and nutmeg, a cozy fall flavor that made it extra special. I could practically taste the thoughtfulness!  It might seem like a simple gesture, but to me, it meant so much. At my last school district, I rarely received gifts from students, so this thoughtful act caught me off guard in the best way. What moved me most wasn’t the syrup itself, but that he saw me. He understood what it’s like to go through a heali...

 Trying to get to my kids’ activities isn’t always easy these days, but they’re the one thing I’m determined not to miss! I love being their biggest fan in everything they do. Last week my daughter had her fall choir concert, and thankfully I found a great seat. I was a bit worried about where I’d park my trusty knee scooter. After some strategic maneuvering (and a few tight turns that could’ve qualified me for a scooter obstacle course), I found an edge seat and made it work. Our school’s theater area is cozy —that’s the nice way of saying it’s a little small and could use a few more accessibility updates! The funny thing is, I noticed two other people using knee scooters that night. I almost felt like we should have formed a scooter squad—maybe come up with a secret handshake or synchronized parking plan. There’s something oddly comforting about knowing you’re not alone in your wobbling and wheeling! I even thought I would be strategic and leave through the emergency exit as I ...

  The more I’ve used my knee scooter through this healing journey, the more I notice others using them too. It’s funny how something as simple as a scooter can become a bridge for connection. I’ve had some of the sweetest little conversations with strangers who are scooting their way through healing as well. It’s a reminder that we’re never alone — God finds ways to connect us right where we are, even on wheels and one good leg! At work, I even have a knee scooter buddy! Her story is different from mine — she’s healed, but she uses her scooter on long walking days because her surgery came with limitations. When she shared that, my heart went out to her. I’ve been praying for longevity in her healing and for continued strength. It’s amazing how God can use shared struggle to create shared encouragement.  Of course, we had to get a picture together — two scooter sisters just rolling through life! And I’ll admit… my smile in the photo was a bit fake.   But to my defense, ...

  The same day I got my cast off and graduated to the boot, I had another milestone waiting...  shaving my leg! It’s funny the things you look forward to after weeks in a cast, but it felt like such a big step toward feeling human again. The doctor had warned me there would be layers of dry, dead skin and that shaving too soon might cause razor rash. So, I took the advice and started with a trimmer instead of a razor. As the long hairs disappeared, I just had to laugh — healing can be both humbling and hilarious sometimes! The shower felt amazing, but as expected, the dead skin didn’t all come off in one go. I think it’ll take a few more showers before I’m fully back to normal. But before that shower, the emotions hit hard. I tried to figure out what 25% of my weight-bearing would feel like — and honestly, it was painful. My tendon is tight, and my muscles are weak. Every step was uncomfortable and awkward. I did a few laps around the house with my crutches, and tears came....

  Well, the day finally came — cast removal day! I had been praying for this next step, hoping I’d get to graduate from the blue cast to the boot stage, and thankfully… I did!  No new cast — just the boot... with crutches. This appointment felt different from the last one. The first time they removed a cast, I was so anxious my heart rate increased and I had to fight fear.  But this time, I was calm — maybe because I’ve had a little practice at this whole “trusting God through healing” thing. Instead of panic, I just giggled because the saw and vibrations actually tickled my foot. I’ll take “ticklish” over “terrified” any day! Once the cast came off, the nurse wiped my leg with some cleansing solution — and oh my, that felt amazing. After seven weeks of being wrapped up, that poor leg was dry, itchy, and in serious need of lotion, sunlight, and a shave. Seeing my leg next to the other one though… whew. That was a moment. Reality hit. The muscle loss, the odd color, th...

I’ve shared a lot about my healing journey lately, but today I want to pause and talk about my husband’s . He’s been walking his own path of recovery, and honestly, it’s been both inspiring and hard to watch.  We laugh often that we are doing hard things together as we are one!  Just two days before my Achilles surgery, Anthony had surgery on his bicep tendon. That alone would’ve been enough to make our summer interesting, but his recovery has come with an extra challenge—nerve damage. Healing has been slower than we hoped, and there are still a lot of “waiting” days. He’s no longer wearing that big plastic brace (praise the Lord for that small victory! 🙌). I think that change has brought both freedom and comfort—because let’s be real, plastic and sweat do not mix well. We scrubbed that brace so many times, but somehow the finger area always stayed stinky and gross.  It’s the kind of thing you just have to laugh about or you’ll cry. Anthony has had several physical the...

 Whew… the emotions have been running high this past week. Some of it is probably because my daughter just had her birthday—and not just any birthday—but the big one . She’s officially an adult. I’ve loved every single stage of raising her, and even though she’s “grown up,” I know she’ll still need me. I think what stirred me even deeper was reflecting back on my own 18th birthday. Just a month before I turned 18, my mom was diagnosed with leukemia. I’ll never forget visiting her at a hotel while she was receiving treatments. She was tired, drained from chemo, and it was heartbreaking to see as her daughter. That birthday ended up being my last with her, as she passed away that October. So, as I celebrate my daughter’s 18th, I can’t help but treasure every moment… while also fighting those sneaky little fears that try to creep in. Thoughts like, “What if I leave her young, too?” The enemy likes to whisper lies in moments of weakness, especially while I’m recovering from this inj...

 The first weekend of September, my mother-in-law and her boyfriend came for a visit. I was excited to see family, but I’ll be honest—there was also some nervousness. Would I be too tired? Too sore? Would my healing hold us back from doing things together? They arrived Friday evening, which just so happened to be Eddie’s birthday. With everyone’s schedules, we kept it simple—pizza and then out for ice cream at the shop where my daughter works. Once again, my amazing son was my personal chauffeur, pushing me in a wheelchair all the way to the ice cream place. We laughed so much along the way—sometimes joy rolls right beside us, even on wheels. The next day was my daughter’s cross-country home meet (I already shared that in my “Learning to Navigate Daily Life ” post), and then later we went out for dinner. That night was harder. The restaurant was noisy and full of energy, but after a few days of quiet and stillness, the loudness felt overwhelming. No one really knew I struggled th...

  I had the honor of preaching while my husband was away on a men’s retreat. At first, I almost said no because I’m still healing from surgery. But God gently reminded me that He loves to use us in our weakness, and He began weaving this word together: “Prepared by Him, Preparing for Him” We are all preparing for the greatest wedding in history: the wedding supper of the Lamb (Revelation 19:6–9). The church is the bride of Christ, and just as a bride doesn’t walk casually down the aisle, we cannot approach this moment unprepared. Our preparation begins with salvation, then continues with holiness, devotion, and love. 1. Esther’s Example — Preparing with Purity and Preference Esther 2 gives us a powerful picture of preparation: A year of cleansing, washing, and being set apart for the king. Instead of demanding her own way, Esther asked what the king preferred. Her heart posture was: “Not my will, but Yours, Lord.” Just like Esther, we are called to surrender our d...

When it comes to Achilles surgery, no two patients are the same. So when my doctor and I talked about a return-to-work date, we agreed that three weeks post-surgery would be a good—though aggressive—goal. For me, it wasn’t just about healing; it was also practical. I’m only in my second year teaching high school , and I don’t have a large sick bank saved up. September 12th became my target date. At times, that day felt so far away , and at other times, it felt way too soon. Leading up to it, I had a swirl of emotions: Some days, I longed for normal routine again.  Other days, I battled fear.  Will I be strong enough? Can I really stay awake a full day? Will my leg be safe in crowded hallways with energetic teenagers? I eventually came to terms with this truth: going back to work, I wouldn’t be at 100%. But I could give 100% of what I had that day.   And you know what? Day one went fantastic. I loved seeing everyone again, meeting the new freshmen, and feeling that fa...