SortaCrunchy

Meet Katherine Willis Pershey, author of Any Day A Beautiful Change!

February's featured sponsor is Any Day a Beautiful Change by Katherine Willis Pershey. I am delighted to host her here today as she shares from her heart a little about what inspired the book and what you'll find in its pages. I know you'll make her feel welcome here today!

So, I have this book coming out next month. My first book. It’s a dream come true.

Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be a writer. When I discerned a call into pastoral ministry – I am an associate minister at a Congregational church – I thought, for a brief interlude, that writing would become a hobby. But I soon learned that writing is a part of my ministry. In addition to writing countless sermons for my faith community, I publish a blog called any day a beautiful change, where I’ve written about everything from bad coffee to my favorite band to working for Jesus.

It was no surprise that I would write about motherhood after my older daughter was born in 2008. However, I discovered that many of my experiences as a new mother were too tender for my blog.

I posted cute pictures but I didn’t let on that I was struggling with crippling anxiety. I told sweet stories but didn’t confess that my family was in a state of crisis. Six months after my daughter was born, it didn’t look like my marriage would survive until her first birthday.

And then, by the grace of God and with a lot of help, we stopped fighting one another long enough to fight for our marriage. We worked so hard. And slowly, painfully, miraculously, we started to change.

Believe me when I say this: I love my husband every bit as fiercely as I love my dear daughters, Juliette and Genevieve. It horrifies me to think for even a moment that we might have missed out on the unexpected and unquenchable joy of a family redeemed.  

Even as the beautiful changes were yet unfolding, I started writing the deeper story (to borrow a phrase from that magnificent blog). Not only about our marriage, but about everything: breastfeeding, postpartum depression, returning to work, our desire to move toward a more natural way of living. I had the courage to do this for two reasons.

I believe that stories are transformative.

I believe that being honest about the hard stuff is one way we help one another through it. If St. John of the Cross hadn’t confessed his “dark night of the soul,” would we still be stumbling around blindly, believing we are the only ones to experience a fallow season in the life of faith? And the other reason I knew I could do this was because, before I even committed a single word to the page, my husband said to me one night: “You should write about us.” His trust that I could honor our story and tell it well meant everything to me.

And now, next month, our story will be a book, the title borrowed from my blog: Any Day a Beautiful Change: A Story of Faith and Family. Like I said, a dream come true, right? But since I’m committed to practicing honesty, here’s the truth: I am terrified. I have rarely felt so vulnerable in my life. Strangers will read my book. Church members will read my book. My mother will read my book. I feel so vulnerable I might have to watch Brene Brown’s amazing TED Talk on vulnerability once a day for the next year.  But I have to lean into my vulnerability because just as I am called to be a minister and writer, a wife and mother, I am called to tell this story.

The following is the first paragraph of one of the hardest chapters. I think by posting it here I’m symbolically ripping the bandage off quickly. Though it hurts like the dickens, it’s wonderful to discover that the wound beneath has healed.

I found it while sorting through a box of pictures on a Sunday afternoon. The pictures were disorganized, just the way I like them: a jumble of images that roughly mimics the way memories drift through one’s mind. I snatched it from the pile, a chill creeping down my spine. Who the hell took this? In the picture, I am sitting at the kitchen table in our seminary campus apartment. My shoulders are hunched, my hands partially obscuring my anguished face. Benjamin is standing nearby, his face contorted with anger, his hands raised into the air in a posture of pure fury. I stared at it, stupidly, for a full minute before I remembered. We had not been in the throes of a fight. We were pretending. My best friend from Ohio had taken the photograph. She was visiting for the weekend, and that morning we’d taken her to the J. Paul Getty Museum perched in the hills north of Los Angeles. We were all drawn to the special exhibit, Bill Viola: The Passions. In the digital portraits – some moving, thanks to newfangled flat-screen technology – actors embodied a range of emotions: joy, sadness, grief, anger. After dinner, between bursts of hysterical laughter, we recreated the scenes. There is no better icon for our marriage than the image Lisa captured: the rousing good time all but obscured by the all too familiar anguish and anger. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to tear it up or frame it.

I pray that Any Day a Beautiful Change: A Story of Faith and Family finds its way onto the nightstands of people who need a true story, a hard story, a hopeful story.

Katherine Willis Pershey is the associate minister of the First Congregational Church in Western Springs, Illinois. A graduate of Claremont School of Theology, Katherine previously served as the solo pastor of South Bay Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Redondo Beach, California. She was one of the founding editorial board members of Fidelia’s Sisters, a publication of The Young Clergy Women Project, and is a contributor to the Christian Century.

 

Open to Sharing this Truth

 

 

I can count on one hand the number of people with who I have talked about this face-to-face. I hardly know how to form the words. I can't talk about it without laughing or squirming or flushing or all three.

But I'm living under the invitation to OPEN this year, and so the story I thought best to tell at Deeper Story today required me to be open with you, with them, with anyone who reads it, about this thing. This healing thing. How I don't understand it, but I want to be open to what God would have me do with it.

If it all makes you squirmy to think about, just take comfort in the fact that I'm hiding under my desk right now. Join me  with tingling fingers and a shaky voice, i speak of healing.

so long six. so now seven.

"The seven year old, with his toothless smile, is a physical marvel. He stumbles while running across the playground, because his legs probably grew while he slept last night. He looks slightly different every day, because he is growing teeth and losing them at a rapid rate. Suddenly, he is able to think outside the concrete experience of his in-the-moment life, and plan ahead, envisioning what is not yet there." -- Pam Allyn

It is the tradition I engage in every year on January 27th, a sacred liturgy all my own, remembering the last 24 hour hours before Dacey was born, the last full day before I was reborn as a mother.

I start at 6 AM, remembering the soul-crushing call to the labor and delivery floor of our hospital. "Too full." Too full for me to come in for the scheduled induction. Nine days past the due date I was convinced I wouldn't reach, nine days of growing more and more convinced she would never, ever arrive.

But later in the day, there was mercy in the form of the careful gloved hand of my doctor. Membranes stripped at 1 PM. Labor started at 4. I waited until Friends was over at 7:30 to go to the hospital. A long night and lots of things never imagined and she was born on the 28th - FINALLY - at 5:43 AM.

With solemnity and smiles, I mark the day every year. The last day before.

* * * * *

"Seven year olds worry, but they also revel in the rich moments that are special to their age. An ice-cream cone with a grandparent or a subway ride are grand adventures. Seven-year-olds are true companions, old enough to understand you have had a hard day, and young enough to need that day to fall away so she can crawl right back into your arms, preparing for the new and better day ahead." -- Pam Allyn

After school, she climbed into her booster seat and told me breathlessly, "Mom! I got my first birthday present at school today! It was from Maria!" Dacey's pre-K and Kindergarten class looped up together; I know them all by name. Maria is the only one from that class who is in first grade with Dacey, and oh, I do love that little girl. White teeth against brown skin make her smile a true wonder of creation.

"A marble! A clear marble with blue and orange swirl!" Dacey held up it for me to admire, and I said, "What a great gift! How thoughtful of Maria!" My daughter's big enthusiasm for the smallest things - I wish I could capture it and swirl in a marble and tuck it away to treasure the rest of my days.

* * * * *

"While we all rush by, busy and moving quickly, the seven-year-old will still tug at your hand to bend down and take another look. They want to keep that beloved book by their beds because the act of rereading feels important, soothing, and instructive. How right they are. In reality, they are building their reading muscles, becoming more fluent readers, and increasing their stamina and comprehension by revisiting familiar texts on their own that for years you have been reading aloud to them. -- Pam Allyn"

"Pray over me."

Every night, our ritual. Aliza Joy says it, "Pray about me," and Lord knows I do. But Dacey says it the way I say it and I say yes, I'll pray over you.

Holy God and Heavenly Father, thank you for my Dacey girl. She is a treasure and a blessing and a gift from You. Thank you for her beautiful heart and her so smart mind and her loving choices today. Thank for another day with her. Put your Hand on her mind, God, and keep the bad dreams away. Help her dreams to be filled with all the things that are happy and beautiful and good. In the name of Jesus I ask these things, Amen.

If there was ever a child who loved ritual and routine and re-reading and re-visiting, it is her. She feels ground in sameness, but proud of herself for trying new things. "It's good to try something new every day" has been her favorite mantra lately, and I am amazed by the way she has incorporated positive self-talk into her life at such an early age.

She is truly new each day. More of her pull close, pants too short each morning, big teeth pushing in as quickly as little ones fall out. She is growing into herself every day, and I'm learning to step back more and become a student of my child, one of the best texts I'll ever read in her big dark brown eyes.

It will be hard to top Six, it was such a great year for us. But I have high hopes for Seven, for this golden age that is the blessed middle, far from babyhood but still a safe distance from tweenage. Days of marbles and rituals and giggles and fairies that visit in the night, leaving behind sweet rewards as consolation for the pieces of my baby they take while she sleeps.

* * * * *

All Pam Allyn quotes are from her highly helpful book What to Read When: The Books and Stories to Read with Your Child--and All the Best Times to Read Them

Dacey's birth story can be found here: Happy Three to D!

We Aren't The Problem, We Are The Answer: Jen Hatmaker's Seven

Here's a funny story about me and Jen Hatmaker:

Some of you may know Missy and I are quite good friends. There are some areas where our opinions diverge, but yeah, when it comes down to it, we are heart sisters. (Hope I'm not overstepping here, Miss.)

After I read and taught Jen Hatmaker's study Interrupted, I emailed Missy because I knew she knew Jen. I told her about how much I loved it and how Jen seemed like just the coolest person and basically I just want to be her when I grow up (even though she is just about one year older than me). Missy wrote back, "You should friend her on Facebook - she'll friend anyone."

So I did. I looked up her profile with her pretty head shot and friend requested her and sent along a little message about how I was teaching the Interrupted study and I just had been so moved and changed by her message and I just thought she was the world's greatest and oh, hey! you went to Oklahoma Baptist University and so did my sister-in-law and we have a mutual friend in Missy and on and on. I nervously hit "Send Message." I had never friend requested a total stranger before, let alone a well-known author and speaker.

And I waited.

And I waited.

NOTHING.

And then I started to feel like a real idiot.

Weeks went by and after being a little miffed at Missy for the "she'll friend anyone" encouragement, I kind of forgot about it. Until one day, I got a notification that Jen had accepted by friend request on Facebook. I read her wall and went from huffy to sheepish in about two seconds.

As it turned out, she was on a long Facebook break when I had friend requested her. She wasn't being snobby, she wasn't being un-approachable. She was doing something pretty noble - an experiment for her next book: 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess

When I sent her the Facebook friend request last year, she was in the middle of an incredible experiment to give up the TOO MUCH of our culture. I'm delighted to have gotten the change to review this release because I know (!!!) you are going to connect with her message.

In the opening, she writes about the genesis for this experiment, how she realized that even though she and her husband Brandon had left the large church they were serving at in Austin to start Austin New Church with the simple mantra: "Love your neighbor, serve your city," she began to realize that she had never intentionally surrendered the comforts of her life.

When she considered the amounts of excess in her life, she identified some areas we have too much of in our culture: food, clothes, possessions, media, waste, spending, stress. Then she decided to see what would happen if she intentionally fasted from the excess:

Seven months, seven areas, reduced to seven simple choices. I'm embarking on a journey of less. It's time to purge the junk and pare down to what is necessary. Seven will be an exercise in simplicity with one goal: to create space for the Kingdom of God to break through.

What follows is an INCREDIBLE read, my friends. Really, truly incredible.

I treasure Jen's writing because she is 1) seriously hilarious and 2) unflinchingly honest. Although the topic practically begs for it, there is not one trace of self-righteousness to be found. That's the truth. She records how the experiment unfolds, confessing the times she breaks the rules and sharing how irritable her family got at various points as they were dragged along in her crazy.

My heart welled up as she wrote about things I've long been passionate about: real food, spending less (or nothing!) on clothing, creation care, consumerism, Sabbath rest ... just about anything I've ever written about, she covers here and ohsomuch more.

Near the end of the book, she shares some reflections that are so, so important that I am straining to share it with you in the entirety. It would be an egregious violation of copyright law, so I'll try to sum up ... She talks about how most of us, we cry over the orphan crisis and we feel sick over child trafficking. We cringe at how much we spend on birthday parties, knowing there are children starving everywhere. We read Shane Claiborne and feel depressed for days. We know we are living the MORE MORE MORE life our culture offers, and we feel so much tension about what to do about it.

Jen writes:

Hear this: I don't think God wants you to be at war with yourself.

He sent the Prince of Peace to soothe those tumultuous waters already. Self-deprecation is a cruel response to Jesus, who died to make us righteous. Guilt is not Jesus' medium.

....

We're so conditioned to being the problem that we've forgotten that we are actually the answer. God is not angry at you; how could he possibly be? You're his daughter, his son, you're on the team. Don't imagine he is sitting us all down for a lecture. Rather, he's staging a rally, gathering the troops. The church is rising like a phoenix right now, collecting speed and strength and power.

THIS is the life-giving, hope-bringing, love-empowering message of Seven. It is NOT a lecture. You will not walk away from it feeling like crap. You will be inspired. If nothing else, you'll be entertained.

How did the whole experiment play out? Did she go back to Facebook and eating out and watching TV?

You'll have to read the book to find out.

And I'm giving one of you the chance to get your own copy of 7 , straight from my little house on the plains to yours. All you have to do is leave a comment! In the spirit of simple, we'll keep it simple. No bonus entries, no thought-provoking questions that require a short essay in the comments. Just one comment. I'll draw a winner next Sunday.

In the meantime, here's to allowing ourselves to be OPEN to the crazy that comes when you are surrendered to the Kingdom of God!

 

what i would give: six years of blogging

six.

Six years and one day ago, SortaCrunchy was born with one dumb little post.

I cannot even comprehend how much blogging has changed since then. Oh, the things we have seen come and go. Haven't we?

I'm having a hard time finding words for all I would like to say. Blogging has, in a very real way, changed my life. Though I've been tempted from time to time to quietly close up shop and live a little more traditionally, I know I absolutely cannot. In six years time, SortaCrunchy has grown to be an extension of me. I have published words here that make me twitch with awkward embarrassment and words that make me giggle and words that bring me to tears.

Few writers want to write into a vacuum, and by far the most rewarding part of growing, nurturing, and maintaining my space here is YOU. It is grossly unfair for someone as flaky, goofy, flighty, and ridiculous as me to be gifted with the amazing and eclectic and diverse and dymamic audience of friends and readers who gather here.

I wish there was more I could give you. I wish I could put something tangible in your hands to say thank you.

What I would give, if I could.

I would give you that fancy camera with the super fast lens you've been pining over for so long.

I would give you that new stand mixer whose whirling beaters would make your heart sing.

I would buy out your Amazon cart so you could sit and read the wit and wisdom of writers infinitely better than I am for so many months ahead.

I would wave a wand and a brand new stash of all the latest, fanciest cloth diapers would be yours for your darling wee one.

I would press a key into your hand that would start a new car. (You get a car! And you get a car! And you get a car!)

I would slip an envelope under your door with the cash you need to make rent.

I would send you a brown paper package tied up with strings, a gift box of all of your favorite things.

I would sit down with you over a cup of coffee (or tea, if you insist) and talk and pray and laugh and cry and laugh some more.

I would give you the moon if I could.

Each and every one of you mean more to me than I can ever say. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you for spending a few minutes of your day with me from time to time. Thank you for trusting me with your stories and encouraging me with your responses. Thank you for making everything I do here infinitely worthwhile.

You are God's grace to me.

I'm raising my glass to six years and to all that it means to me and all that you mean to me and to more words and time and hearts together in the years to come!

open to vulnerable

Being scheduled for the very first post of 2012 at A Deeper Story is a little bit daunting. What to write? What to share?

It is the new year and we are all thinking all things new right now, but there is part of me that struggles so hard with living into the newness of life that is mine in Christ. It makes my stomach hurt a little bit to share with such vulnerability, but along came open to nudge me along.

I would be honored if you would join me today over there as I confess to you that I wish I knew how to quit  me.

One Word for 2012: OPEN

If I'm being honest, it was the last thing I wanted to do.

I was irritated that I had forgotten to pack my sweatshirt in our suitcase stuffed with Christmas gathering goodies, and so I was going to have to wear my dress coat with my workout pants. Bothersome.

Plus, I just wanted a break, you know? I wanted to hide in the pages of a book and sip coffee and nibble on chocolates and just ... be left alone.

But AJ was insistent and the sun was shining and it was as crisp and beautiful as December could offer and so I agreed.

Let's go.

We stuffed our coat pockets with animal crackers and blazed out across the lawn of my husband's childhood. And in no time at all, I forgot to be irritated. We played tag and collected acorns and Dacey heard our laughter and came to join us out there. We used our best bird calls to sing to the birds in the treetops and we talked through the fence to the neighbor's puppy who pranced around to the tune of our voices. And the sunning and the running warmed us from the inside out.

When we were called to lunch, we raced up the downward slope from the far end of the yard all the way back up the house where we collapsed into breathless, panting giggles. As I caught my breath, I whispered thanks.

Thanks to God for the glorious day.

Thanks to my child for the invitation.

Thanks to myself for being open.

* * * * *

Since 2009, I've chosen a word to guide each year. Or, more accurately I suppose (though I know it sounds quite mystical), a word chooses me. It's never an easy word and every year without fail, I groan a little bit as soon as the word lands in my thoughts.

2009: Surrender
2010: Rejoice
2011: Give

I'm so happy to see the One Word movement organizing into something a little more formal. A small community is gathering at OneWord365 to share our hopes and dreams and words for the year. And so for 2012 for me, it is OPEN. I'm a little terrified, but that's good, don't you think?

What will it be for you? Join me in linking up to OneWord365 or just tell me your word in the comments. What will mark this year for you?

photo by emdot

http://www.sortacrunchy.net/sortacrunchy/2010/01/rejoice.html

Anticipating Holidays: Relationship Boundaries

Y'all, I am all written-out. But I'll tell you what, as the pace for the month begins to pick up, I've been thinking a lot about what I wrote last December on the matter of boundaries as it applies to relationships and gifts during the holiday season. So I'm republishing this today as a reminder to myself more than anyone else. Let's all be proactive in cultivating a peaceful holiday season for our families this year!

This week, we've been talking about what we are teaching our children about the holidays.  In part 1, we talked about the importance of seeking and maintaining internal peace.

Two aspects of the holidays that send my Peace Meter plummeting are family dynamics and gift giving and receiving.  Here's what I've been pondering this season:

Relationship Dynamics

This is a difficult area for me.  I am, by nature, a people pleaser.  If I perceive that someone is unhappy with my choice, I live under the burden of their unhappy feelings, and that is exhausting.

A friend of mine who is a counselor shared this little self-talk script to help me keep my feelings about the feelings of others in check:

I am not responsible for fill-in-the-blank family member/friend's happiness.
If _____________ is mad, that is his/her feeling, and it doesn't have to affect me.
I cannot make _________________ happy.
It's okay that I am happy and he/she is not.
Good boundaries mean that I don't let his/her attitude ruin my holiday.
Good boundaries also mean that my feelings matter just as much as his/hers, and I might need to call him/her on it.

That was so revolutionary to me! 

And of course, I still remember that as a follower of Christ, I am to love wholly and sacrificially.  Boundaries serve the purpose of keeping bad stuff out and holding good stuff in.  For those of us who always have our "feelers" out, it can be very hard to hang on to that internal peace we talked about last time and allow ourselves to be vessels of the love of Christ when we've abandoned boundaries and are allowing the responses of others to take the lead.

Practically speaking, I can't please every single person when we are being pulled on from all sides.  Inevitably, someone will be hurt by a choice we have made for our family.  That doesn't mean we don't love the person who is hurt, it just means that we have to use wisdom in charting our course through these days.

That script helps me to have a firm grasp on the fact that the way I guide my family through the holidays is not dependent on what will please people outside of our little family of four.

(And I fully recognize that there are some reading who have different temperaments, whose feelers are rarely out, and whose general approach to these dynamics is "you get what you get and you don't throw a fit!"  That would be my husband.  If you are like him and struggle to understand us feel-y types, please just have grace for us as we work to enjoy the freedom of boundaries and seek to experience that which comes so easily to you!)

Speaking of healthy scripts - this is the time of year I am always reminded of bean dipping.  This doesn't apply to us so much anymore as we have moved out of the stage of parenting when everyone has advice (most notably the baby stage, especially The First Baby stage!).  I am also more proactive in addressing issues as they arise before unsolicited advice is offered.  (Such as, "Oh yes. Three has been a rough age so far!  We are learning lots about how to handle these Big Feelings!")

But I wanted to link (again) to this article at Get Off Your Butt Parenting about The Bean Dip approach.  Essentially, remember you don't have to engage people in conversation over your parenting practices.  You don't have to justify or explain.  Plain and simple.  "We have done the research and we feel comfortable with our decision.  Hey, could you pass the bean dip?  Thanks!"

Gifts and Giving

This topic has come up continually in my posts here about Christmas as well as in the discussion of several of my Simple Mom columns on gifts.

In theory, I have to come a place of peace about gifts - both the giving and receiving.  We know that our Heavenly Father gives us gifts, and that every good and perfect thing comes from Him.

In practice, I still get a little freaked out this time of year.  Yesterday, Jaime and I were emailing about putting together art supply sets for our almost six year old daughters, and as I realized that shipping deadlines were cutting me off on all sides, I wrote to her that I was not feeling the internal peace!

Intellectually, I know this: We can be smart and intentional about gift-giving.  We can set a budget, and I can keep an updated spreadsheet to remind myself of what we have spent on whom.  I can start early and not freak out in the last days.  This is ESPECIALLY helpful in those last days before Christmas when every time I go into a store, I start to panic and feel like we haven't bought enough.

Kyle and I agree that as the girls get older, there will be less emphasis on what they receive and more emphasis on what we, as a family, will give.  I would love to change the social norm from asking children, "What are you getting for Christmas?" to "What are you giving for Christmas?"

And so.

About what they get for Christmas. 

This time of year, there are always conversations about what to do about the sheer quantity of gifts that pour into our homes, as well as what to do when the gifts our children are given don't mirror our what our families cherish.

Oh my, opinions abound on this matter!  We have decided to be at peace with the idea that gift suggestions are just that - suggestions.  They are not demands. 

The gift-giver gets to choose the gift, and we get to choose what happens to that gift once it enters our home. 

As a result, we have many things in our home that we would never have chosen, but our girls have absolutely loved.  Other things have predictably fallen out of favor and have found new homes somewhere else.  We don't stress over it.  We focus on teaching gratitude and graciousness to our children.

* * * * *

How is your internal peace meter right now? Are you feeling anxious about the month to come or are holding steady with peace? What do good holiday boundaries look like for you?

The Year of the Baby

At the end of last year, Jennifer Fulwiler of Conversion Diary created a Saint's Name Generator. Though I'm not Catholic, I thought it would be interesting to give it a try. My patron saint for 2011: St. Brigid of Ireland. She happens to be the patron saint of, amongst other things, newborns and infants.

I thought it was kind of cool and tucked it away to maybe post about at some point. I also wondered if 2011 might be the year we feathered our nest for a new owlet. Eventually, though, I forgot all about it (see? I would be a terrible Catholic!) ... until the past few weeks of intense writing. Writing about baby's first year.

It makes me chuckle, honestly, because part of me can't see how it would be a coincidence. Last December, I could not possibly have dreamed that 2011 would be the year that we would sign a book contract and move forward with publishing our message about the first year of parenting being a time saturated with opportunity for spiritual growth and renewal. I would not have believed that 2011 would actually be a year when my thoughts were consumed with all things newborn and infant. It's kind of amazing.

On Thursday, we submit our initial manuscript to our editor. St. Brigid is also patron saint of midwives, and I have to tell you I feel like Laura and I have been both midwives to our message this year as well as the laboring mothers. We are both a bit delirious at this point and more than a little drained. It's the best, hardest work I've ever done.

Thank you, thank you for praying us through it all.

Today I can be found in two places talking about bebes and sleep: at In the Backyard, we're continuing our series on infant sleep and I wrote on the biological benefits of nighttime wakings, while over at Code Name: Mama, I'm waxing a bit poetic about The Sweetness of the Second and how it was during those nighttime wake-ups that I really got to know our Aliza Joy. (While you are at Code Name: Mama, make sure to read a bit about Dionna's surprise unassisted homebirth!)

image credit: jamesbrandon

when you are feasting on tears

I snuck away from family for five minutes because I feel like I need to say this.

I have this weird habit of marking each holiday by thinking back, "One year ago today, we were ... Two years ago today, we were ..."

This morning, I was remembering to myself Thanksgivings past. I got back to 2006 - 5 years ago - and I couldn't remember. I could remember the year before and the year after, but not that year. And then the memory pushed over me with the delicacy of a bulldozer and I remembered.

Five years ago this Thanksgiving, my entire family was a bloody, battered wreck. Just months before, my father had left my mother and their 30+ year marriage. My mom moved in with one of my sisters in Houston, and that year for Thanksgiving, I took Dacey over there and we did the best we could to mark the day.

I had never felt so hollow in my life. We cried into the mashed potatoes and we sobbed over pumpkin pie. I was able to muster thanks for my husband and close friends who were the body of Christ to me in my grief, but I could barely whisper thanks for the next breath. Looking back, I'm thankful that social networking wasn't then what it is today. I think if I had happy, cozy status updates from friends filling my eyes, I would have been completely undone.

I was so, so mad at God. My parents' divorce felt like the biggest betrayal of my entire spiritual walk and I was so hurt that He had allowed it to happen. My every memory from that Thanksgiving tastes like bitterness in my mind.

Why am I intruding on your holiday with this? Because I have to think that somewhere in the nearly 3000 people who read SortaCrunchy, somewhere someone is hurting today. Someone is feasting on tears.

I want you to know I have remembered you to the Lord in prayer this morning, though I don't know your name or circumstance. I know your heart and I share in your pain.

God brought incredible restoration and redemption from that plot of ground watered in tears and sorrow. That's another story for another day. I have seen in my own life what God can do that defies logic and imagination. I am praying that He brings healing and restoration and redemption to you, my dear friend.

I am praying.

If you want to share a specific prayer request with me, feel free to email me at megan at sortacrunchy dot net.

Peace and blessing to all of you today, my sweet, sweet readers. You mean more to me than words can say.