Romans 5:5

I don’t remember a lot about last year.

It’s called the fog. I’ve mentioned it before.

When you are in it, days go by, and then months, and somedays you can’t sleep, and somedays all you want to do is sleep…and you can’t see through it.

It’s murky and consuming.

It’s as if you are parked in the middle of a dark parking lot and even with your brights on all you can see is fog surrounding you.

When it lifts, it’s amazing all the feelings you can feel…

Sun resting across the bridge of your nose, and on your bare shoulders.

Trees brushing against a window at night, and goose bumps climbing your arms as you startle.

Crying because something makes you so happy you want to giggle and sob at the same time, and your cheeks hurt from smiling.

In the fog I was sedated by a numbing feeling when I wasn’t being consumed by anxiety and sadness. I could go from numb to despair in seconds, but joy…joy was something I had to try to choose.

I’d repeat to myself…”Choose Joy.”

Choose Joy.

Fake Joy. Smile so they don’t know. Hide so they don’t notice.

But when the fog lifted, I didn’t really have to choose…it just came, and I would touch my cheeks to remind myself that this is real.

I am Feeling this. Right now. I didn’t have to choose…I just got to be…right here.

In this Moment.

Feeling Joy. Knowing Joy.

I have a good friends. Friends who stood by me when I wasn’t a good friend. Friends who tried to pull me out of the fog and when my feet wouldn’t move, they stood next to me and prayed. They waited.

They never moved.

Today was a day when the fog made the air crisp and chilled to the bone. I saw and talked to some of these friends. I emailed with some. They looked at me, answered me, wrote to me, and I knew hearts were heavier than normal…

I felt it. I knew.








So tangible were their feelings on the surface, in their words, in their eyes, and I knew that nothing I could say would bring comfort.

This is where their feet stand right now.

There are times when we don’t understand the way things and life have been laid out in front of us. We can’t see beyond what we are feeling at that moment. And it’s painful. And it’s real. It’s our right now.

And as a friend I want to fix and fill, I want to make the gaps and sadness go away. I want to lift the fog. But I can’t.

So I pray.

I am right beside you. Praying.

I give you my hand and my promise, that while I can’t take your right now away, I will never leave.

I can’t fill the holes, and I can’t promise things will get better…but I believe that God is taking care of you. And I pray that today you find comfort, grace, and healing wherever you are. Right now.

I am here. Praying.

I’m not moving.

I don’t know when your fog will clear, but I promise when it does, there will a moment when you won’t have to pretend, or choose, or carry, and you will realize what you are feeling is hope.

And hope never disappoints…



I don’t remember a lot about last year.

But today I stood outside.

The fog was heavy with a chill. I stood outside without a coat and I shivered. I hugged myself, and took a moment to inhale and feel the cold air enter my lungs. I took some extra time to exhale and enjoy that moment of feeling every single thing. And then I got back in the car where a little girl put her face next to mine. And I memorized the way her eyelashes looked and her eyes glisten and knew…last year I may have been in a fog- but I will never forget this moment.

I will remember today.