Stumbling Towards Perfect

I can't call Avery's death a tragedy. How she died, yes, absolutely. But that she died? I can't. I just can't. Avery loved God in a way I never understood when she was alive. She lived for Him . And, while she certainly loved me like crazy, I can't help but think she saw me more as her foster mom. The earthly mama-heart loving her like my own while the ultimate goal was reuniting her with her real father: God in Heaven. She lived her earthly life with the sole purpose - and soul purpose - to ensure one day she would go home to live with her Lord and Savior. And she did just that. How could I think it was tragic that she made it safely home into her Daddy's arms?  But even knowing that.... man, it's hard, you know? To be, well, to be here when she's not. I miss her every single second of every single day and unless you've gone through such heavy loss you won't understand how it is entirely possible to stand around a kitchen with fr...

There it was. Posted for all the world to see. Or, rather, for all the friends of friends to see. A series of innocuous photos. This family, bright eyed and smiling, arms wrapped around each other in one pose, cheerfully jumping off some concrete steps in another. There were pictures of just the grown siblings, just the grandchildren, the whole group with the grandparents, and with each separate family unit: mom, dad and children.  Undeniable proof in each photo: Smiles. Camaraderie. Friendliness. Joy. Love. Acceptance .  And my heart broke. Because for me those photos symbolize the complete opposite of love and acceptance. They represent complete failure. They represent a whole lot of hurt. They represent a past I was unwelcome in and a future where it's best to pretend I don't exist. Ten years ago I decided to take a dating sabbatical for 1 entire year. More than that, I intentionally swore off flirting, handing out my phone number and even taking inven...