Grantleigh Grace

We have been incredibly blessed! Heaven placed this little angel in our arms. On October 9, 2014 at 5:41 pm weighing 7lbs 3oz and measuring 20.25 inches Grantleigh Grace made her appearance, bright-eyed and as beautiful as could be. We are all just amazed at how magnificent this little miracle is. We are so blessed and know that her uncle Grant is so proud of his little name-sake and her mommy.






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The Tides

I can only imagine someday looking into the horizon and finding peace and understanding to the emptiness I feel in my heart.

I was listening to a youtube video of a mother expressing her journey of grief, how years after losing her son grief still comes to her in waves. I understood what she was saying completely.

I remember the last time I sat still in the sand; a few weeks before losing Grant, looking out into the blue water. I remember thinking this must be our tiny glimpse of heaven on earth.  It’s true that grief comes in waves… just when I feel some calm in my day a memory, the reality, the truth much like a wave comes barreling me over. Some days are easier than others for no particular reason. Sometimes I can genuinely laugh, have silly conversations with friends and then out of nowhere I feel angry, sad and bitter. It is very much like breathing in and out. Just when I feel some relief and exhaled the tide pulls me back in… but I won’t begrudge myself for wanting to be alone, slamming a door or crying in the middle of any given day and feeling like the world just sucks. It does pass and I do find clarity and balance once again for a moment. The moon always seems to pull back the tide of grief that just knocked me over allowing me to sort through my waves of fear and sadness.  Like a new horizon or the wonder of what tomorrow will bring; I don’t know what grief look like further down the road… I just keep walking.

I’m learning to know myself, I’m learning that it’s okay to be happy and yet I know when to crawl inside myself and just rest. There’s no expected time of the day or night grief hits me, it just does. It has no particular agenda. I’m learning grief in its own way is a gift; it’s my cry break, because trying to be normal for hours on end is exhausting. It’s a healing release; a sort of release to my sadness. Living my life without Grant; these three words simply say it all “I miss him”

I Love you Grantie,


Tides are the rise and fall of sea levels caused by the combined effects of the gravitational forces exerted by the Moon and the Sun and the rotation of the Earth.

Sun… Happiness, laughter

Moon… Darkness

Both a part of life… sunshine and darkness… much like life… happiness, sadness… life continues….


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When you are stuck in the stages: Grief

I am often stuck in a deep sadness and anxiety. I can blame it on the busyness of life or business because that’s more socially acceptable at this stage of grief. But all too often the sadness still revolves around the fact that sharing this life with Grant isn’t possible. It revolves around school starting again, the cool air coming back which reminds us all that the snow is just around the corner, and another year has passed. The hustle and bustle of people have forgotten about the sad past because of facebook photos that look so happy and “moved on.” It revolves around the birth of a new niece coming up that I vow will still know the existence of her beautiful uncle who would have been so proud to hold in his arms. He was the guy who I m sure bragged about how amazing these little ones are to his friends. I’ve met plenty of people over the last few years who knew my brother who knew almost every intimate detail of my kid’s lives, again who I barely knew prior to losing him. They know these details because he talked so much about how proud he was of me and my sisters and our cutie-pies.


Fall is in the air: I used to love this season. I used to breathe in the fall air with a welcoming thought as I knew my busy season was soon coming to a short break and I could once again breathe slowly and enjoy the sluggish speed of winter. These past couple years it has just been a constant reminder that another year has passed and yet I feel no different than I did nearly three years ago.


I think when you’ve lost someone so significant in your life you really do want to see “life” in this life again. You do not want it to pass you by and feel so deeply sad. You want to enjoy the good things in life and hope that your children, husband and friends still see you as a loving, positive (not sad or depressed) person.  You know that you will never be the same person again but you hope that the new person you have become is still one that is worth loving. You try. You hope. You try again. You talk to a doctor. You google “grief” and wish that the stages were as simple as they seem summed up in a short article. You wish that the promise that your loved one was spared spending the rest of this life glued to an addiction, spared of a life of pain, deep hurt and sadness, spared of a life he hated, spared of a life that satan’s power had put his grips on was good enough to move on. You wish that the knowledge of this life being just a blink of an eye, the promise of heaven and seeing him again after this life was easy to be content with.


You google grief and wish that acceptance was the end. You wish and hope that acceptance meant you had also accepted that this life is just a blink of an eye and that joy should still consume this world while you wait for your day to come and be greeted by him at heaven’s gate. But each day you are reminded that it is a selfish life. Maybe I am selfish that I wish back those days. Maybe I am selfish that I wish back the days of watching 90210 reruns on my couch as my new baby snuggled in my arms and while he pretended to watch the show he was really staring at those cute little new baby toes.


  1. Shock and Denial
  2. Pain and Guilt
  3. Anger and Bargaining
  4. Depression, reflection and loneliness
  5. The upward turn
  6. Reconstruction and working through
  7. Acceptance and hope


This is the list I found this morning. And personally with each of these google searches I get a little more saddened that it always seems like acceptance and hope are the end result and that once you’ve gone through this list we are expected to be back to our old selves. It seems as this should be a 7 month checklist that each month poses its next challenge. Honestly, somewhere in this 33 months I have come to the acceptance part of this theory but I promise you that it does not mean I am back to my old self. It does not mean that I don’t wake up wanting to scream out loud or wish for an extra hour of sleep with hopes that a dream will be centered around his voice or his hugs. It doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a vacation or post happy looking photos on facebook. It also doesn’t mean I don’t still seek the google button for some self help guide. I still just wish it all back every minute of every day. While so many others have moved on a piece of my heart has been forever changed and the only way I can describe it is that unless you’ve been through it you don’t get it and I really wish this upon no one. It also means that we are more aware of what this is like and continually fear losing again. The pain and anxiety of the unknown future truly constantly haunts us.


I guess what I am trying to say is that for those out there who have also lost a loved one or love one who has been forever changed due to loss is that you are not alone. So, when you are stuck in these grief stages and wonder if people think that you should have moved on by now remember it doesn’t take time…. It takes a lifetime. We have been forever changed. And as I remind myself each day it also doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to enjoy what’s left of this life. Enjoy the little miracles each day presents to us. Laugh daily because you know they would want you to. Until we meet them again. XOXO


“Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.” Deuteronomy 31:6

“What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.” 1 Corinthians 2:9


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My Memory Chest

Over the past two years Karmin has been working on a book documenting Grants life…a book allowing up to three hundred pages telling the story of an amazing person inside and out.  When thinking and looking back at memories whether we knew someone all that well or not photographs tell a story.

Yesterday once again I brought over an arm full of memories, notes he wrote me… repeating I love my mom… to I rode my bike to the store, be back later…to photographs that revealed a glimpse of Grant in each one of his nieces and nephews.

Karmin sat there with me as my heart flooded with memories of all four of them, remembering outfit, laughing at hair style,  reminiscing through pictures that brought back a whole day of memories that made me cry and for the first time a few that made me laugh.

I have 31 years of those special memories, many envelopes of hair that are dates, special cloths they wore, school projects, report cards, journals he wore in grade school,  belly buttons wrapped in plastic and photographs upon photographs that documents 31 one years of the best little people I call my everything.

Yesterday as I sat by one of my boxes full of memories… not a shoe box… a wood box the size of a chest… I sorted through the best years of my life and I don’t regret one silly thing I saved.  The things in that wood box are the only material things that matter; maybe losing Grant has lead me closer to the understanding of what really is significant in life….  The colorful pieces of art that hung on my refrigerator are really what mattered when I look back; not the material things that others may have envied.  I cherish what I have saved, because I don’t know if I appreciated the important things in the past as much as I should have.  I look back and wish only that I wouldn’t have spent so much time wanting …..But embracing what I had.

As Karmin continues documenting Grants life she has started a book for her very own baby girl, something already so beautiful, not a moment forgotten… this little girl’s arrival has been documented since before the photos of a positive result stick…

Each day since losing Grant I remind myself of the things I am thankful for…. an emotion very hard some days, feeling happy as I knew it was a sense of feeling whole. I struggle with that.  I struggle with grieving so hard I can’t enjoy the things that also matter all around me.

Looking through my box of memories was not just about Grants past,  digging through the photos and drawings and special clothing was about all four of my every things… digging through that box of my treasured past I found my thankfulness, I found importance,  I found the best part of my life, and for that I am thankful.

Grant left a gaping hole in my heart, a hole in all of our hearts that without future only memories can fill.  I know when I am blessed with this book of my boys life I wont look back at the things I wish I would have done or wish I would have had. I look back at a life I am so thankful for, a life I was so blessed to have held.

I Love you Grantie


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Balcony… A Little Closer to Heaven

This past weekend Steve finished up yet another project at Grants’ Place… The deck, and yes the yellow signs sent from above chose the color and style. I call it a deck, Steve calls it a balcony and I’m pretty sure Grant would call it the best deer stand ever.  It looks over a piece of Heaven on Earth. Most of this project has been a pile of composite decking in our garage since last winter along with a garage full of what I like to call my yellow hello’s from Heaven.

I imagined it and Steve somehow always makes it happen :)

2014-07-29 deck

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This past weekend I traveled to a wedding near Siren Wisconsin. One thing about weddings… very much like most events in my life;  I’ve learned I’m not the one in control; they have the last say in the itinerary and God knows I can’t control the weather. I’m there to capture the day as they planned and still each moment in breath-taking photographs.

I’d never traveled the roads or seen the tiny towns I journeyed through this past Saturday. I felt lost for moments of the drive. When the sun is high I have NO sense of direction. I have to put all my faith in this little gadget commonly referred to as a GPS. Trust me I have not always had faith in it and the girls would laugh and agree because it never fails when I am all alone in my car “in a location that feels like the middle of nowhere familiar to me” I panic!!  Knowing that about myself I tend to arrive hours early because I lack the faith in getting there in a timely manner; another thing Grant and I have in common. No one called/calls the girls more often about feeling lost than Grant and me. I’m sure they have many stories of our panic and lack of trust in our global positioning.

This past Saturday lead me to thinking a lot about feeling lost and afraid. I had lots of thoughts thinking that it would be nice if my life could just be punched in to this little gadget that warned me to turn right in 500 yards and in 100 feet take a quick left to avoid disappointment. This little device could show me the way through life avoiding all the construction that would send me on another detour I don’t want to go through.

Pride has always told me I can do it all by myself, that I know a better way, that if I fight hard enough I will win the battle. With Grant’s addiction I thought for a long time I could control it, that if I prayed hard enough God would listen. I think somewhere in my bible it said “Moms always fix things.” Looking back I think I really thought that I could always fix the problems life through at my family. I think I thought that I could take the wheel and control the out-of-control. I could love him into sobriety. When he died I failed at the one thing that meant everything to me… being the best mom.

I’ve had to find trust, not my own intuition to get me to my next destination. I find myself with this oh so familiar voice always saying “relocating” over and over again much like the little gadget in my car. We all struggle with it except it’s not Siri talking it’s the whispers of the Holy Spirit that I believe will guide me through this valley and it’s not a green on button.

We all have parts of our lives that seem out of control… addiction isn’t a word just to describe the abuse of drugs. It describes something in all of us… addiction is the word that describes a habit, compulsion, dependence, a need and craving. Addiction is something we all struggle with. I would guess that’s the detour in our global positioning that none of us can avoid. Over and over I hear that voice echoing the words “relocating” because on any given day I beat myself up because I’m not smart enough, I’m not thin enough, I’m not good enough or the words that haunt me I wasn’t a good enough mother to save my own son’s life.

Before losing Grant I was ashamed of drug addiction. How the hell could this happen to our family? I was mad about it. I was embarrassed and I couldn’t understand how this could happen to our family. Why our boy?

So as always I looked deeper. I guess to find some global positioning to what life has dealt me… trying to find peace and understanding for why hardship and hurt happen. We all struggle with what life dishes out. And we all seem to take the detours and the short cuts knowing full well we would eventually come to a road block that would send us back down the same road we just traveled.

When I arrived at my wedding I referred to my GPS as my God box to unknown locations. God’s GPS, the bible teaches us that we are to be filled with the Holy Spirit, walk in the Spirit, yield to the Spirit, be taught by the Spirit, and relocate back to the Spirit.

My GPS lead me to the destination that at times I had little faith in arriving. But much like life that day I made wrong turns because I trusted the arrow “not my God box” that lead me to think on my own. On this road leading me home I would have to slow down to wait for a cow to lead a calf off the road. Much like life the real road would lead me to brake for two deer that much like myself  I ignore the thoughts to yield. I witnessed that even a good turkey mother leads her babies across dangerous roads with no intentions of harm, and that even the bear running in front of me thought for a moment he could out run me… all the things that my God box didn’t warn me about.

Before losing Grant I didn’t listen all too well to my God Box, my Holy Spirit… in fact very much like my GPS I shut it off. I had a better way. I wanted the control because I didn’t trust anyone, not even God with my son. I had a better plan. I trusted the one in the mirror more than anyone. I worried more about the eyes of others and how they seen me and even more how they saw my son. I’m learning to listen to the voice that I too often shut off. I was and am a good mom. My friends love me for who I am not the trials I battle. My God is a compassionate God and forgives my angry days.

Addiction is many signs in life. We all have a description of one hanging around our neck. It doesn’t define who we are inside; the sign just describes our own enemy.


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Happy Birthday Grantie

Grant never had enough time on this earth to celebrate his 26th birthday but for our family July 8th will forever be just as, if not more, important a day to celebrate. Perhaps the act is selfish on our parts, but to many of us it is the grieving process. We release lanterns, led balloons and yes had a cake with 26 candles flaming away which the kids were excited to blow out in Grant’s honor. Friends and family came and went over the weekend celebration of Grant’s life on earth, most who knew Grant and some that did not or were too young to remember. Something a little child said made me take a step back and think. She innocently asked “who’s birthday is it?” When the other children said “its Grant’s birthday” I saw her look at her father and say “but I thought Grant died…” My heart melted and I could only have gentle compassion because it is hard for the old to understand our ways much less someone so young. For me it’s more comfortable to speak of Grant as if he is in a better place. Whatever I want to fantasize heaven is like at the time and the moment. Sometimes I do tell myself the dreadful words “Grant died” or worse yet “Grant’s dead” because over two years later I still can’t believe it could be true… because to me he is still alive. I know he is not on earth but in my heart, in my memories, he is forever alive, just in a better place. I don’t know how others celebrate birthdays of loved ones lost but for me I will always celebrate Grant’s Birthday no less than when he was here on earth to blow out his own candles. To me July 8th will forever be the day I celebrate the birth of our son, brother, uncle, and friend. July 8th is our day to celebrate a life that has forever changed us. 26 years ago I held in my arms but forever in my heart… I Love you Grantie…I love you so much, Mama



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Cart full of laughter…

Each person processes grief differently. We all seem to find our own unique way of getting through the days and months. Losing a child is something you never get over… it’s something, by no choice of your own, you’re forced to learn to somehow get through. The pain will always be there and the only way I can describe how it has changed over the past two years is that it has softened a bit.

Since losing Grant I have my own strange sort of relationship with him. It’s hard to accept that he’s gone. Having conversations in my head or out loud when I’m alone help me feel close to him and if being honest about the fact that I talk to the dead leads others to think I’m crazy or that believing in signs to be biblically incorrect?? well so be it I guess. I’m okay with that and I think God understands my heart. 

I find that most of my signs from Grant make me laugh, just as he would want.  For those that knew Grant you may have similar stories to mine. Grant was a tag along. He loved going anywhere someone else in the room was venturing off to especially a trip to Target. I guess it was the early learning that there was a chance I’d buy him something from very early on…. and I always did.

A recent sign that made my heart flutter was a pair of slippers that mysteriously appeared in my cart. There was nothing else in the cart but my purse so I know it was not a mistaken cart that I wandered off with. To me these slippers were a funny hello from Grant. Grant was always a bit mischievous. I guess we both were but Grant loved to humor himself and make others laugh in the end… even if only himself. I adore the memory of his up-to-something smirk which went everywhere with him.

Grant loved to embarrass me all in fun, he loved to tease, and above all he loved to make me laugh. I’m sure the girls could tell hundreds of their own stories too of their memories and that contagious laugh. One of our frequently shopped stores was Target. Grants humor in that well mapped out store explain the slippers in my cart.  When Grant would see someone he knew, a neighbor lady or a friend’s mom, he would sneak around staying out of sight and toss things in their cart when they were turned away and just roll with laughter from a far. When they would finally noticed the random items in their cart he would dart back to me laughing that laugh that I so miss. I miss his contagious laugh. I miss the days of something in my shoe, a fish head behind my gas cap, the manikin’s head in the bed, scary things in the drawer. Grant may not have lived a long life but he gave me a life time of humor and fun to reminisce. These are the things I never want to forget about him… the never-ending funny humorous stories I could tell. So when the slippers were in my cart, an area of the store I never wandered by it was a reminder he still makes me smile, that he is always with me and to listen for the wise words that will forever ring in my ear reminding me that life should be fun, that he is okay and at peace and when days grow hard and I feel weak to listen for the message he is giving me. Grant is a part of who I am. He is the good part of who I am… He is and will forever be the better part of who I am yet to be. He would say Ma… just Let it Be.

I Love You Grantie.



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Living in Bygone

I struggle to begin journaling these feelings today… my heart flooding with feelings and emotions I’m not always sure how to deal with. I go through waves of feeling strength just to find myself once again drowning in emotions that I don’t know how to find order to. I can’t even find the words to describe it. I have feelings that become more difficult to find peace with because as the days continue to become clearer they also bring a lot of scary emotions.  We prepare ourselves throughout life to let go and embrace change; a new car, saying good bye to the house we first brought our new born child home to, letting go of the clothes they grew out of. We allow ourselves to let go of these things because honestly they are just material things and what really matters are not the things we purchase or covet. I get that…but when you lose someone… their things… their material things… are all you physically have left of them.


Grant is always in my heart, he is always on my mind. I just want to hold him again, if even for just a moment. I want him to hear me say I love you, that I couldn’t have asked for a better son, and that he is so loved.  I feel broken that I never had the chance to say good bye. I never said goodbye. Words no one ever prepares themselves to say to a child. While I feel robbed of the fact that I never was able to say goodbye I would be naive to think anything about his death would be any easier if I were able to.


Steve and I never really became empty nesters before losing Grant; someone was always home. It seemed as if throughout college years our kids came and went but someone was always filling our house with laughter and life. As parents of young adults we all know they never really move out. Children take what they need for their adventure and leave us parents with all their… Stuff… from the skate board, GI Joe dolls, a closet full of shoes, even the collection of half used products they kept in the bathroom vanity.  It all becomes our stuff that we beg them to take or throw away as time passes. In a matter of 6 months Karmin and Grant were missing from home. Home as I knew it was different. Karmin married and moved and shortly after Grant’s presence, laughter, and sarcasm would never fill our home again.


This leads me to journaling the feelings and fears I have been having (not for pity)… I just have to write and sort my feelings for my own sanity and healing and maybe someone else reading that is on this rocky road of grief might relate. For months after losing Grant I didn’t even want to clean my house, some may have thought the reason was I didn’t have the energy … not … truth … I didn’t want to touch anything that he touched. Not his shoes that still remain in our family room, not the towel he dried off with that morning…  I slept with that towel for two years. Not the clothes in the laundry because they still smelled like him.  I would spray his cologne on myself just to have a scent of him that I missed. I felt like if I wiped things clean I was washing him away. I know this may sound crazy to some but for those who have lost deep I know you know. I have written over and over again as I journal that each step in this journey is raw, even the steps to come years later I am sure. There is no end date to grief. I don’t want to ignore it. I want to embrace it. Missing Grant will never go away. I will forever wonder what life would have been like and grieve his absence in our life.


The baby steps of 2 ½ years: Since losing Grant I have stayed busy, with Grants Place, weddings, and work.  Anything to keep me from feeling still… still is… hard. Being alone is… hard… (especially at home.) Our home is a capsule that holds memories of Grant. Every inch is a memory. The world continues to change. Everything from new roads, stores, new technology to clothing styles and trends. I remember feeling guilty for upgrading my phone to one that he would have liked. Everything continues to go on, as it should and always has, but that doesn’t mean change comes easy. But home, Grant’s home…  All of my adult life I have enjoyed change and one of my loves for change was in my house… I loved new bedding, lights, furniture. I loved rearranging and hanging the newest latest photos of my children on the walls… but since December 3rd, 2011 my home has stood still. I know for those who have lost a loved one you understand. I can’t replace my bedding because his drool is a stain on my duvet that I cherish, the furniture remains in its place because I imagine him still sitting there. Updating the girls’ photos would be a reminder my boy’s life is still. To organize coat closets would force me to decide how to arrange his shoes and to open his bedroom door would remind me of the worst morning of my life. The door remains closed. I say I love you as I walk by and I never go in. I’m not ready for that step… baby steps….


Over the past few weeks I have been talking with a friend at work about the things l’d like to do in my home and yard…. Oh and the yard! I woke up one day this spring and asked Steve…. Literally… what the hell happened to the back yard … Did I not look back there the past two summers? I guess not…. There were a lot of things I just didn’t care about … things that mattered to me in the past and that must have been one of them. Back to Karin and my conversation… as we talked about some of the things I like and complimented her projects she asked a question (one that would seem to have a simple answer)… “why?”… “why don’t you?”… My only answer was… “It’s hard.” It’s hard to erase anything that I fear will wipe away my memories. I have thought a lot about my answer. I think a huge part of healing is expressing fear… not keeping it bottled up. Maybe in my rambling someone will feel less crazy and know they’re not alone.


I miss you Grantie, Mama

GS (90) GS (121)

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August (my last August with Grant) he shared with me one of his deepest thoughts. I hear his words every day as I try to find less fear in my life… I may have mentioned this quote in a blog many entries ago but as each day goes by I continue to process my thoughts and fears… it’s baby steps.

Grant and I were sitting on the steps at Serenity Village and I was telling him my feelings of fear, relapse, and all that goes along with his disease… I was crazy with fear. I remember the look on his face and how my heart hurt staring into those sad eyes. I remember the tears streaming down his face, his fist clenched over his heart. “Mom, I’m not afraid to die. I’m afraid that I may live the rest of my life like this…” Very much like grief addiction never goes away; we just learn to live life the best way possible with it. And somewhere in that mess we must find peace. Grief and addiction, much like other diseases, control you with fear… God doesn’t fill me with fear, earth does. In trusting God I will find the peace that will lead me to fear less.

“Fear never wrote a symphony or poem, negotiated a peace treaty, or cured a disease. Fear never pulled a family out of poverty or a country out of bigotry. Fear never saved a marriage or a business. Courage did that. Faith did that. People who refused to consult or cower to their timidities did that. But fear itself? Fear herds us into a prison and slams the doors. Wouldn’t it be great to walk out?”
Max Lucado, Fearless: Imagine Your Life Without Fear

      **Thank you Athena for leading me to read this book.

I was reading something about pain and suffering that someone wrote… “I’m more afraid of the pain in living than death.”  Those words lead me to thinking a little deeper. Daily I have these thoughts since losing Grant that I’m not afraid to die. I am more afraid of living without Grant than I am of death. I have been promised life after living with pain, suffering, grief. I deeply fear the unknown of how painful life can possibly get. The fear of pain and suffering and the guilty fear of ever being happy again.

I think Grant had an understanding of all of this. Grant knew the Lord… I think better than I did or do. Being a Christian did not make him perfect. He’d be the first to say he was far from being a Boy Scout. I remember a doctor visit like it was yesterday: Grant’s funny humor went right along with the tough stuff. We were with a drug counselor evaluating Grant, after listening carefully Grants reply was simply “Doctor, I don’t know what boy scout camp your from but this is hell.” Grant never stopped seeking help. He never stopped seeking God. He never stopped craving God. I believe addiction made him seek even harder.

Grant was blessed with an amazing upbringing in the church. He had amazing friends, teachers and role models. God put those chosen in his life not to teach him how to live the prefect Christian life but how to feel loved by Christ even on the most unlovable days of life.

Grant was blessed with the perfect Christian role models…. not perfect as in no wrong…. but perfectly imperfect Christians. They were honest with their young class room of boys about their own journey with God and how faith brought them through the tough times. They taught my boy that God is a loving and compassionate God. I know Grant always felt God’s love. He may not have always loved himself but I know he knew he was loved. He knew Steve and I loved him, he knew how loved and adored he was by his 3 sisters and he knew God loved him above all.

I remember when Grant was in 5th or 6th grade Sunday school, he had two male teachers that were very open about their past and how it related to faith. They spoke and ministered to the boys about the mistakes they made in life. How even in the times they drifted away from God he loved them and never left their side. They ministered to those boys in their honesty of being “imperfect” and that God’s love for them was no more or less on the good days or the bad days. These were the  teachings that gave my son hope and strengthened him on the weak, dark days of life.

I like that …The Perfectly Imperfect Christian


“Christ-followers contract malaria, bury children, and battle addictions, and, as a result, face fears. It’s not the absence of storms that sets us apart. It’s whom we discover in the storm: an unstirred Christ.”  ― Max LucadoFearless: Imagine Your Life Without Fear


As I continue this path set before me I walk with a little less fear each day… with a reminder that this life is but a blink of an eye.

Love, Mama

Sometimes we must hold on and trust the one who holds us, even if you are afraid….upsidedown

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