My Everyday

Each day I wake up next to my husband Adam. We live in a cozy red brick home with our daughter Rose and our dog Zoey, and our daughter Emmi is in Heaven, held by Jesus.

I write on scraps of paper at stolen moments of the day, between building towers of blocks, cleaning up crafts, and scrubbing dishes. I might even get to use my desk during nap time, if I can find some elbow room amongst the forgotten crayons. It’s not glamorous, but it’s good. I’m not extraordinary, but I’m learning from my pain.

My Story

The past couple years have been the hardest of my life. My daughter, Emmi, was diagnosed with leukemia, and the traditional treatments didn’t put her cancer into remission. We walked through immunotherapy and stem cell transplant, inching towards recovery, when suddenly, she turned a terrible corner. She went from Adam’s and my arms in a hospital bed to Jesus embrace.

Instead of planning for Valentines Day in 2020, we found ourselves preparing a funeral. I had just begun to study laments to process the overwhelming grief of watching my four year old endure terrible treatments for a terrible disease. A lament poured out of me as I attempted to write a eulogy.

The practice of lament has remained in these months since losing Emmi to cancer. My desire is that by sharing what I’m learning about grief and lament, someone else might also find the hope that I have found in the middle of this desert. I feel compelled to keep writing, for me and for you.