A road trip to the past

Close Up Photo of Gray Concrete Road

My son Tristan and I drove to Auburn in a downpour today. My son, Keenan, early 20’s, is moving in with us for a month or so as he makes new plans for his future. He knows Scripture but isn’t a Christian. Please keep him in prayer.

My husband was there as was my son, Samuel. It’s one of only a handful of times I’ve seen my husband since we’ve been separated. Samuel is…not a Christian. After seeing them both, my heart now aches in ways I can’t even say. I rode in the backseat on the way home so Keenan–or Eldwyn, since he now wants to go by his middle name–could ride with Tristan in the front and have guy talk. I thought. I prayed. I cried.

A thousand thousand broken dreams, thoughts, and memories crashed into my mind and heart on that trip home. A heart can break a million times and keep on beating. Maybe even more.

I’m pretty sure it’s more.

God is sovereign even over our pain. There’s a purpose in our suffering, even when those we love break our hearts.

I feel raw tonight.

Please pray for me, too.

Soli Deo Gloria!


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