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the day Mama went Home.

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December 20, 2019.

~Reading scripture to Mama~

The hospice center was filled with the brightest sunlight we had seen in the last 5 days. A guitarist began to play beautiful acoustic music right across the hall from my mother’s room. My mama, who had always carried a deep love of music within her heart, was being serenaded and beckoned by the Almighty. It was so beautiful that I powered off the thermostat so she could hear it more clearly.

I spoke gently to Mama, reassuring her that I would take care of my sister and handle anything I thought she might be worried about. And for the first time in 5 days, I felt absolutely sure that I wanted to be there when her soul entered the Kingdom of Heaven. I told her so, and also made sure she knew that my sister would want to be there with her too. Just as I finished up the last of countless chats I’d had with Mama over the past week, my sister returned from the hospice kitchen and sat down on the other side of Mama’s bed.

It had been 5 days since Mama left ICU to be transferred to the hospice center; 5 miserable, long, tortured days of watching her “sleep” while telling her how much we loved her, how proud we were of her for fighting so hard for so long, how sorry we were that she had suffered so much, and how thankful we were for her and the gift of every moment we had shared together in our lifetimes.

It was incredibly hard not to hear her sweet voice responding or see her beautiful eyes gazing back at us as we spoke to her throughout that week, but we had been repeatedly assured by the medical staff that she could hear everything we said. So, we spent every day saying our “see you later’s” knowing that according to the doctor, she should not survive another hour, let alone another night. And then we’d wake up in awe each morning once we discovered she was still with us, still fighting.

But this morning was different. Her breathing was more labored than in the previous days, and I could sense a change happening. There seemed to be less of her there; less of her spirit was trapped inside the sick body that had held her captive with cancer for nearly 3 years. There was more of her elsewhere now, than in this hospice bed.

The guitarist played on, strumming the most beautiful selection of songs — hymns, Christmas songs, and old southern favorites that brought back wonderful memories. I heard several of Mama’s favorites, and I knew she was listening and smiling over us. As the music filled the air around us, I suddenly felt an urging to tell my sister that Mama’s time was near so she would be prepared. I knew in my heart that her transformation would soon be complete.

Then, just minutes after I had spoken those words, an old familiar guitar tune fell on our ears. The song immediately grabbed my sister’s attention, because it’s about dancing — something Mama had longed to be able to do again. My sister began humming the tune, and filled in the words once it reached the chorus:

“Dance, then, wherever you may be,
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be,
And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he...”

My sister looked down at our mother, touched her hand, and said, “Now you can dance again, Mama.” And at that moment, Mama took her last breath and saw the face of God.

In that instant, I saw Mama’s spirit leave her broken body; I knew right away that she was finally free. And thru my tears of both sadness and joy, I thanked Mama for fighting so hard and for waiting for us to be okay before leaving. I also thanked God for the gift He gave of allowing us to witness that moment and feel Heaven in that hospice room.

It was the most beautiful, unimagined ending to Mama’s long and faithful fight. What an incredible blessing it was to experience such a heavenly event. We had been given the gift of closure, knowing that Mama was alive and well in Heaven — perfect and whole in every way.

“Dance, then, wherever you may be,
I am the Lord of the dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be,
And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he...”

Blessings,
Emily

i’m not crying; you’re crying.

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I lost it.

Saturday evening, after spending some much-needed time with good friends that I see far less often than I’d like, I returned home just in time to tuck my little one into bed. She had missed mommy and it showed — Eskimo kisses galore, sweet slobbery pecks on the cheeks, and “Mommy, I miss you! I luh you!” a few times in between. It was the sweetest, most wonderful end to my evening.

Sigh.

Long after Grace was in the bed that night and headed off to sleep, all of these thoughts suddenly came bubbling up to the surface and I lost it.

The mom-guilt had set in at 1000%, and I felt so overwhelmed by it all.

So I stood in my kitchen alone, and balled my eyes out. Because logic plays no part in mom-guilt. These feelings are as deep-rooted as the innate desire for children that most women start to feel somewhere in their 20s or 30s.

My husband eventually heard me sobbing and came to check on me. I tried to explain my feelings to him in between the shudders and gasps for air; it was such a raw moment for me and I knew he would never fully understand what I was feeling, but I attempted to describe it.

Just to put things into perspective: I’m one of those people who generally “powers through” and gets things done. I try not to focus on things that hurt; I just keep going. So these feelings have to wait most of the time; I am literally too busy to let it soak in and deal with it whenever it hits.

But on Saturday night, nearly two years of built-up emotion came tumbling down my cheeks. Two years of working full-time while I pay for child care because we can’t afford not to do things that way. Two years of saying goodbye to her every morning, and hating myself for it. Two years of mom-guilt.

And my husband, somehow knowing exactly what to say, walked up to me and held me while I cried, telling me over and over that I’m a good mother, and I’m doing a great job. In that moment, standing in our kitchen in pajamas, he embodied the love of Christ and his comfort was a tremendous blessing to me.

Yes, I still feel the mom-guilt. But I also feel incredibly blessed to know and love my child, despite whether she’s in my arms being snuggled or in preschool for the day. We are all still SO very blessed.

Later that night as we lay awake talking, I told David that I wanted every single child on this earth to have caregivers who love them as much as we love and adore Grace. I would lay down my life for her, and I know he would do the same.

And then I prayed as I have many times before, that God would protect all children everywhere — that they would all be blessed with a home where they feel loved and safe, in His name.

Prayer warriors, please join me in this prayer. Every child deserves to be loved and kept safe, and I believe in a God who moves mountains, so He can certainly move people who are able to help.

Blessings,
Emily

gratitude

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I like to start my blogs the same way I would if I were picking up a conversation with an old friend. “It’s me again! Let me tell you about today…” But in reality, sometimes it’s been a while in between conversations, and if you’re not really good friends, it might seem a little awkward. Nevertheless, I have a hankering to talk about something today, so cheers to the awkwardness ensuing.

Photo credit: Emily Hunsaker

It’s officially October, so we’re quickly approaching the season of gratitude. You know, the couple of months out of the year when we’re forced to think about all the things we’re supposed to be thankful for, even though we’re still annoyed with everyday life.

It feels something like this:
I’m still working all the time.
I’m still just as exhausted as ever.
I’m still overweight.
I’m still stressed out.
I’m still not “living my best life” … *insert eye-roll here*

You know what? You don’t have to fall into that trap. “Living your best life” does not mean you’re expected to live out someone else’s highlight reel. Forget that staged mess! Life is dirty and stressful and downright MEAN sometimes.

Living your best life might just mean being thankful for the 3 things that didn’t hit the fan today, and dragging your butt out of bed on purpose tomorrow to do it all over again, because there are people who need you to do that.

And honey, that kind of gratitude these days is my kind of gratitude.

We all know the reality is that most of us are able to get ourselves wherever we need to go, feed ourselves when we’re hungry, work to pay our bills, and even jump into a whole heap of trouble every day if we feel like it — and I usually do. Sigh.

When I can actually pause to think about the word “gratitude” on purpose, I quickly realize that I have a LOT to be thankful for. I may not be a spring chicken anymore, but I can still do most of the things that I’ve always been able to do. And thank goodness for that, because I have a toddler who likes to keep me on my toes!

But on most days when I don’t have time to sit and think about it, I’ll just keep whispering, “Thank you Jesus for my coffee. Amen.“

What can you be grateful for today?

Blessings,
Emily

joy in waiting

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For the past few weekends, I have taken joy in waiting for my morning coffee.

I add the aromatic scoops of goodness to my french press, boil some water, stir it all together with a wooden spoon, and set my timer for 10 minutes of waiting – anticipating the best coffee I’ve had all week. It has quickly become a treasured tradition in my Saturday and Sunday morning routine.

In the background, my daughter is playing and running around our living room with joyful abandon, oftentimes needing Mama’s attention or help… and although I’m not quite “awake” yet, I still wait with joy, knowing the promise of what is to come. After just a few minutes of brewing, the rich smell wafts into the room where we’re playing together, and it brings a smile to my face.

In a world overrun by impatience and the longing for instant gratification, my french press reminds me that the best things in life can’t be rushed. We must wait for many things, and it’s not always as easy as Saturday morning coffee.

We work hard, we stress, we need some things to be easy, and we struggle when they aren’t. Waiting for the fasting window to end, waiting to lose weight, waiting in traffic when we’re already late, waiting for someone to text us back, waiting for test results, waiting for a paycheck when we’ve got bills to pay, etc. It’s not hard to see why “waiting” has a bad rep. Sometimes we find ourselves waiting for really big things like love, children, forgiveness, reconciliation, or healing.

Unfortunately, waiting is rarely joyful.

But what if we could lean on God’s promises in the waiting? What if we thought of Him as the ultimate barista in charge of the french press that’s brewing our coffee, trusting Him to know when it’s ready? If we could do that, could we take JOY in the waiting?

We live in a world full of uncertainties and naysayers who try to suck the joy out of our lives, but here’s what they don’t want you to know: we don’t have to subscribe to the negativity.

We can CHOOSE JOY – even in the waiting.

The feeling you get when you hug a close friend. The sound of the birds singing in the morning. Someone holding a door for a stranger. The stories you hear of hope and healing. The comfort you find in talking with a fellow believer about His promises. The Truth in His Word. Think on these things; look for and focus on the joy that’s all around us.

No matter where you are in your journey right now, you can choose to take joy in the waiting.

Take comfort in His Word, and carry it with you like a light unto your path:

Matthew 5: 1-16, from The Message (MSG) Bible

You’re Blessed:
1-2 When Jesus saw his ministry drawing huge crowds, he climbed a hillside. Those who were apprenticed to him, the committed, climbed with him. Arriving at a quiet place, he sat down and taught his climbing companions. This is what he said:
3 “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.
4 “You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.
5 “You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.
6 “You’re blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God. He’s food and drink in the best meal you’ll ever eat.
7 “You’re blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for.
8 “You’re blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.
9 “You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family.
10 “You’re blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God’s kingdom.
11-12 “Not only that—count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don’t like it, I do! And all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company. My prophets and witnesses have always gotten into this kind of trouble.

Salt and Light:
13 “Let me tell you why you are here. You’re here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You’ve lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage.
14-16 “Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.

Blessings,
Emily

weeds

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They get into every yard, invading a perfectly beautiful lawn atwill. They’re resilient, appearing to survive droughts much better than most grass. You can spend hours upon hours trying to get rid of them; it’s nearly a fulltime job. And HOAs don’t like them.

I know this because we’ve received letters (yes, plural) telling us that we’re in violation of an “article” within the bylaws, because of weeds in our yard. The last letter I opened from the HOA threatened us with a “board hearing and fines”. I remember it very well because we received it just after returning home from visiting my mother, who has been battling cancer for 2 years now and the cancer is still just as arrogant and unrelenting as ever – much like the weeds in my yard.

After temporarily losing my put-togetherness over a letter addressing the most trivial mess I’ve ever read (especially while still reeling over the sight of my frail mother), I consulted a few of my level-headed friends to get some unbiased perspective. They all said the same thing: “You have more important things to worry about than a few weeds, or letters about weeds.” After seeing the letter, one friend in particular asked me if my weeds were 3-feet tall — HAHA! I assured her that they aren’t, and they never have been. To which she replied, “Then that letter is CRAZY.”

And I agree.

The “weeds” in my life are much bigger and scarier than the weeds in my lawn, or any threats an HOA could throw at me.

But when did the world become so incredibly petty? When did our biggest concern (and point of harassment) become weeds in our lawns?

I once heard a pastor say that our souls expand and shrink to size of our concerns.

Read that again, and let it simmer for a minute.

If we are constantly fixated on “small” things, our souls shrink and become small. If our souls’ burdens are big, they expand to the size of those concerns – we grow. So if we are more concerned with things that affect more than just ourselves and our own lives, our souls have grown. (Keeping in mind that our souls can grow and yet shrink again, if we get all wrapped up in ourselves and don’t have any regard for others or things that are happening outside of our circles.)

My mama is hurting, so I am hurting. It’s hard for me to see past what she is going through, long enough to focus on anything smaller than cancer. I wish and pray for many things, but mostly for her healing. She has so much life left to live, and I will do everything I can to help her live it. That’s about as much as my soul can carry right now.

What I won’t do, is worry about some dang weeds.

If any of you are looking for a place to expand your soul and give, consider St. Jude. They are my absolute favorite charity. Did you know that families who receive care from St. Jude don’t pay for a single thing while they are there?

I have my Amazon account set up to give a small portion of each purchase to St. Jude’s, via https://smile.amazon.com. It’s free and easy to do. If you haven’t already, give it a try! 😊

You can also donate to the #ChipInChallenge for St Jude, which is currently taking place via https://magnolia.com/chipinchallenge.

Of course, soul-stretching isn’t just about giving from your wallet. You can also give of your time, your skills, your blood, your sweat, etc., to help others in any way that you are able.

For goodness’ sake, whatever you do – stay out of the weeds. 😉

Blessings,
Emily

Image by Bruno /Germany

green beans and black olives

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My husband and I both agree that our daughter Grace is the best thing that’s ever happened to us. She’s our rainbow baby.

A lot of folks know what that means, but for those who don’t, it means she’s the blessing that followed a miscarriage. The rainbow that followed the rain. 🌈❤️

As our Gracie gets closer to her second birthday, she is quickly becoming a legit toddler. She’s inquisitive, empathetic, opinionated, and her preferences seem to change from one day to the next! 

There are days when she’ll eat 2 whole bananas, and others where she can’t stand the sight of one. Some days she’ll eat anything we put in front of her, and other days where it seems she refuses everything. Sigh. 

Recently, on one of her more “unusual” days , after attempting to feed her everything in the cabinet and fridge, she decided that green beans and black olives were the best things on the planet. She began devouring them the same way you’d eat an ice cream cone on a hot summer day; as quickly as possible! 

In that moment, after worrying we had somehow failed her as parents, fearing she would surely go to bed hungry and grumpy and never recover… while watching her eat with a purpose, my poor mama-heart let out a huge sigh of relief, shed a few tears, and then I began laughing hysterically. 

I realized right then that we hadn’t failed her, and we couldn’t fail her; God prepared our hearts for her, long before she was born. He gave us everything we needed to take wonderful care of her, and love her with every ounce of our souls. 

So as we step into full-blown toddler-hood, I am renewed in the faith that my Father provides for me, and therefore will provide for her – both through us and in spite of us, as time goes on. 

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? ~Matthew 6: 25-27 

Mama friends, don’t let your hearts be troubled; He has given you everything you need to care for your little ones, and so much more. Rejoice and rest in His loving arms!

Blessings,
Emily