Mae Renfroe lost her second-eldest son, Clayton, in a quadding accident in April of 2017 at the age of fourteen. Mae and I both hope you will be encouraged by her story.

For many, the holidays can be a difficult time of year. I recently shared a one-minute testimony about how I’ve found peace after our family tragedy, and wanted to share it with you. I hope it blesses you.

There will always be things that I’m dealing with. There will always be that sense of ebb and flow through seasons, times where my life seems more peaceful than others. But my happiness doesn’t depend on those circumstances.

There is an old joke that goes, "How do you eat an elephant?"

"I don't know, how do you?"

"One bite at a time."

The not-so-hidden truth in here can be applied to so many things—projects, goals, ginormous meals. But today, I'm going to talk about how I have found this true when tackling emotional hardship.*

*No elephants were harmed in the making of this blog post.

For some people, the Christmas season is their most difficult grieving season of the year.

Not me. With the passing of Noah's birthday on February 26, I have been descending pell-mell down the slope of anniversaries that bring up bittersweet memories of Levi.

Apparently, getting puppies is how I deal.

Obligatory blog update. Mostly about writing. But also with a motivational Facebook Live video and guest post mention, in case you missed it. ;-)

Two years later, we are still completely humbled when we consider the massive wave of support we received when Levi died. I am convinced that the support of our community through that first difficult year had a good deal to do with the progress we made in our healing. Yes, the work of grief must be done on an individual basis. But knowing that we were never alone had a significant impact on how brave we were in approaching that work.

How we celebrated Levi's birthday, and the saga of the passing of the Caravan.

Bitter or better? We can choose how we heal from loss. It's all in what we focus on.

Every day is another step forward. Every day, grief morphs and whirls and changes into a different shape, like dancing aurora borealis. And lately, I have been surprised by joy.

In a way, every day, every moment sine June 3, 2015 has been a "first" in this first year since I went from being merely a parent of four boys or an adoptive parent to a bereaved parent. Every day, there are things that trigger my tears. Some of them are quite small and seemingly insignificant--but even something that might seem small to others can leave my heart weighed down by stones too heavy to lift for most of the day.

Are you trapped in the tarry black hole of dwelling on loss? Are you jumping trains trying to hide from it? Or are you figuring out how to keep moving forward with loss as your travelling companion? How to avoid a train wreck on your road to healing, and your dreams.

There is no "one-time thing" when it comes to grief.