Yesterday I didn’t write. Words rolled and tumbled over each other in my head, but I couldn’t seem to get past my to do list followed by nonstop demands of my life. 

I spent a half an hour before bed with one of my children who cried hot tears over anger at himself and a math weekly-quiz we corrected. He had made a couple simple mistakes but it changed the entire outcome of the test.

“Show your work” I told him as I went over his mistakes with him. 

“Why?” He cried, tired and frustrated. 

“Because when you show your work, you can go back and see what you did right, or where you got confused.” 

“But what if I don’t want to?” He wailed.

By this time it was after 9:15, and they all should have been in bed.  But we didn’t even get home until after 8 and had an even later dinner which pushed bedtime off. He was near his expiration date, and so was I. 

I didn’t want to fight with him about math, and rounding to 100. I just wanted him to hear me. I repeated the questions in my own tired voice, and finally, we were finished. 

I came to bed tired, and grumpy. I had things I had wanted to do, but busy kept them away. Chores were left unfinished. Coffee wasn’t set up. I hadn’t showered. I lay in bed, and tried to will myself to sleep, as I drifted off- I actually started my prayers with this one word to God…”what?” 

It was said in a “What are you looking at- What are you expecting of me- Why can’t we catch a break?” Sort of What. 


I was wide awake by 2. The words kept tumbling in, but I didn’t write. Instead I just said “What?” I repeatedly asked God the next three hours those words. I cleaned my kitchen in the dark. I made coffee. I lay back in my bed the word “what” on repeat. 

Somehow, eventually, I fell asleep. 

I’ve had a lot on my mind. A lot of Questions. One in particular. 

Why bad, really bad things happen to good, really good people? 

And I’m not asking it in some entitled tone…because I’m the first to discount my own desires for someone else’s. 

And I’m not asking in some philosophical way, because spend 10 minutes with me, and you’ll realize I’m not philosophical. At all. 

Instead in a “Why God?”

I don’t expect people to change. We are flawed individuals with issues and stuff. There’s good stuff, and bad stuff. And evil.  

I pray for changes of hearts and forgiveness all around. I pray for healing. 

Because it’s not as if I don’t trust God…I know this–

My God is a Good God, and I believe in his faithfulness, but I don’t understand everything. And I don’t think I ever will. I can’t google some pretty quote and then life will all make sense. Because it doesn’t- not a lot of the time. 

But then again, I’m not God. 

I’m just me. 

So where do I fit in all this? 

Where do I fit in the words tumbling, bitter-sweet, world of real? 

Well, it’s pretty simple. I show my work. 


I write because God asked me to. Not because it’s perfect, or that my life makes sense. And my real is that I’m changing, not in some outward look at me now, but in a deep down, there is more…just wait for it, sort of way. 


What if being broken into a million pieces…What if grieving so hard your heart can’t take it…What if the uncertainty isn’t the rest of the story, but is just the beginning? 

So I do what I was asked. I write and I try to show my work. 

To the people who may be just a little like me…The Tired. The  Real. The Broken. To those who need us but don’t want to be looked at as a problem or a burden, or an equation, but as a part of someone else’s life. Someone else’s Story! 

I’ve made a lot mistakes. And some of those mistakes changed the course of my life. 

But allowing God to be God, even when I don’t understand- when I don’t want to show my work, doesn’t take away the fact that He. Shows. Up. 

And not necessarily in the way we expected. Or wanted. Or asked. 

In the past year, He’s shown up when I’ve least deserved, and least expected, and He is Good. 

Even when life isn’t. 

And every single day I remind myself of my beautiful Mother’s words she uses often, “Every day is a Gift.” 


Everyday is a gift. 

Why God? 

Because your life is a gift. 

So live it. Show up. 

Show your Work. 

…to God be the Glory.