A Little Bit of Redemption
What if God doesn’t always redeem the moments we missed by giving them back to us…
…but by giving us a new moment that touches the same tender place?
That’s what happened to me while I sat in a parking lot today.
When You Long to Be Invited
What do you do when you long for relationships that don’t seem to long for you back?
I’ve spent a lot of my life being the inviter.
“You would love this.”
“Come with us.”
“I want to experience this with you.”
But what happens when you realize you’re the one standing on the outside, longing to be considered?
This weekend, the Lord began showing me something about grief, family, belonging, and the exhausting ache of trying to control what we simply cannot control.
Maybe you’ve felt it too.
Maybe you’ve wondered:
Am I too much?
Am I not enough?
Why am I always the one reaching?
And maybe the invitation you’ve been longing for isn't coming from another person at all.
Maybe it’s from God.
I wrote about it—the memories, the grief, the longing, the family table, and what the Lord whispered to my heart in the middle of it all.
“You can extend the invitation, but you cannot change the heart. Only I can do that.”
If you’ve ever longed to be invited, I think this one might meet you right where you are.
When You Long to Be Invited
The Story We Didn’t Ask For
We all have a story. One we asked for and one we didn't.
My dogs and I took off for a long walk through the forest. The world was quiet, except for my mouth-breathing protection brigade. 🐾
As we made our way back home, my gate opened to the magnificent view of our land and home. But my gaze shifted to a place in the field where the earth is scorched.
Not just with dying grass.
It is where a tectonic plate shifted in our life and family, and lava flowed out of grief all over me and those I love.
There were hopes and dreams there.
Wedding planning. The pitter-patter of little feet. Work and school schedules. Home-cooked meals. Laughter and tears.
Love bloomed there.
And then, in a moment, the story we envisioned became the story we never asked for.
The slideshow in my mind quickly flipped in slow motion to my frantic beating on their door, the officer creeping through my gate, the slow-motion fall to the ground, and the eerie wailing echoing through the forest.
The story they didn't ask for.
The story I didn't ask for.
But as I turned my gaze across the pasture, I saw our cross standing majestically on the hill.
And Holy Spirit reminded me of something I want to share with you today...
Even in the midst of the story I never wanted, GOD was there. And GOD is still here.
⬇️ Keep reading...
When Death Knocks Again
When Death Knocks Again
"Today I will rise. I will cry with hope because I know death does not have the final word. Not physical death, or the death of hopes and dreams attached to the stories I have told myself.
Will you rise again with me today? When the death of the story you have told yourself may be shattering at your feet? Will you cry with hope, trusting in a God who is writing your story for His glory?
Walk with me by faith... tell yourself one more time: you can do hard things—you already have."
Much love, Chrissy
Grief, Grace, and the Cross
Sometimes life takes you places you never expected…
This Easter season, I find myself once again in Pennsylvania—grateful for time with my grandson, yet carrying the quiet weight of all that is missing. Grief and gratitude sit side by side, and I’m learning there is room for both.
This is a story about love, loss, Good Friday, and the deep connection between a mother’s heart and the cross.
If you’ve ever wondered how joy and sorrow can coexist… or how God meets us in our broken places… I invite you to read this.
👉 [Read the full story]
Whatever It Takes, Lord
Have you ever wondered if you missed the mark as a parent? In this post, I share a 2 a.m. airport drive, two weeks of relentless prayer, and a baptism I almost didn’t get invited to witness. Through it all, God reminded me that He is faithful, hearts can be softened, and even in the desert, His love pursues our children.
If He can do it for me, He can do it for you.
Holidays and New Traditions
“Aunt Mimi! I have my ornament!” a little voice shrieked as she ran across the living room at Thanksgiving to hang it on the tree. My heart filled with joy. If I could find no other joy in the day, that was enough.
Hope in the Valley: When the ‘Why’ Has No Answer
“Your son is dead.” I looked around in disbelief. Could this really be my life? My hopes and dreams lay in a heap of ashes at my feet mixed with my tears.
Did I do something to cause this?
There was a belief in Jewish culture that if something bad in your life happened it must be because there was great sin in your life.
We live in a broken world. A world where good decisions are not always rewarded and bad decisions are not always punished.
Where sometimes good men die and bad men thrive. Where suffering strikes the innocent.
Thinking Eternity
“Christopher would love this. I wish he were here to experience it with me.” Tears streamed down my face and in that moment, God whispered, “Chrissy, don’t you think that Chris is thinking the same thing?
Every day there is a moment when I think, “Christopher would love this.” My heart aches for him to be in those moments. If you have experienced loss, I’m sure you can relate.
Then I am reminded of God’s promise of heaven.
Good Friday
We celebrated my baby boy, Chris’ life on March 25, 2016. It was Good Friday (only God).
I know that the body we held and loved on this earth met Jesus face to face and that he is worshiping at the feet of Jesus. Yet most days, my heart is still so heavy. The weight of lost hopes and dreams swirl through every joyful moment and every sad moment. I can intimately feel the pain of another mother who gave up her son for the benefit of us.
What I wouldn’t give to have my boy back.
Eternally Ever After
It seems each of my days now begin with before and after. Who I was before Chris died. Who I am after.
The calendar date, a date we didn’t ask for. The date our worlds were shattered. The date that will forever mark the moment in our lives when life was no longer what we thought we knew to be true.
There is a calendar day that will always mark the before and after our loss, but there is another calendar date that marks something so much bigger.
Can I feed your soul some truth mixed with hope?
Where The Christmas Crazy Started
Then the reality hit. Christmas was only a week away. That is where the crazy started. Buying all the “things”, “did I do enough, did I do too much, did I forget someone or something? This is ridiculous. How do we balance the true meaning of Christmas with Santa expectations?”
The quick check of my heart that reminds me that “to whom much is given, much is expected.” My kids and grandchildren will not go without this season but there are many families and kids who will.
Joy In The Mourning
A wail escapes that echos off the tile. This is my new normal.
These days I’m ok with the damp eyes, the slow roll of tears down my face, finding myself sobbing, a snotty heap laying in the middle of a cold, damp floor. My wails no longer startle my dogs or my family.
Weeping may come for the night friend but joy does comes in the mourning.