My mind began to drift however, to much earlier days of my youth. Years as a young girl when Saturday mornings meant my sisters and I fighting over which chore we had to complete.
Welcome to Hope That Soars, where together, with my husband Ryan, we navigate the messiness of life by pointing people to the HOPE found in a relationship with Jesus.
Our journey is filled with heartache and the daily struggle of chronic illness, scripted by a loving Creator.
It is through Him we find LOVE, JOY, and STRENGTH to press forward.
I pray you will join us as we share life lessons gained through mishap, adventures, and everything in between. Perhaps somewhere along the way, you too will find, a HOPE that SOARS!
My mind began to drift however, to much earlier days of my youth. Years as a young girl when Saturday mornings meant my sisters and I fighting over which chore we had to complete.
As we grew older, Santa’s presence caused major anxiety because at what age do you stop sitting on his lap and just stand beside him for the photo-op (so you still receive your gift), all while maintaining your cool status. Although, I cannot speak for the others, the awkward pictures lead me to believe they too shared my angst.
Suddenly, because everyone was experiencing the same thing, physical, spiritual, and emotional well-being became a top priority. Social media became a hub of activity, a place for people to interact. Churches reached beyond the walls with more creativity than ever before and families began using this time to build bridges of connectivity.
Captain’s Log - “Distraction Free Day One…” With a kiss, I ushered my husband out the door at 6:53 am leaving ten long hours to fill until his return.
What should I do - watch television, not enough energy to clean, was it too early to call someone?
The internal chatter continued as I shuffled into the kitchen to refill my water bottle and find paper to make my plan of attack.
In a matter of minutes, I was hit with the realization of my sudden spiral into the abyss of social media. Those hours of mindless scrolling symbolized a temporary band-aid, a way to occupy my day. They offered a mere distraction from the physical pain of my illness and emotional emptiness of spending so much time alone.