Sons of the Shepherd

  Ten Lords A Leaping  Courage for the Next Step       Until recently I wasn't the greatest swimmer.  I can vividly remember learning how to swim in elementary school.  On one particular winter day we were supposed to jump off the diving board.  I stood at the end of what I thought was a plank on the side of a pirates ship preparing to jump to my doom.  Ok, I might be a little overly dramatic, but I was terrified.  My teacher said you will never go forward unless you leap.  That's been over thirty years ago.  Leaping is bold, courageous, and requires a lot of faith.   But for someone who is grieving, leaping may feel impossible or even irresponsible.   After loss, the world feels unstable.  Changes feels dangerous.  Movement feels risky.  For me personally leaping was difficult because I'm the safe, predictable, non-adventurous type.   And yet, Day Ten reminds us that God does not as...

Loving the Grieving Holiday Edition       Christmas is a season built around the Good News.  It is meant to be a season of joy, celebration, and togetherness.  Grief feels like a third wheel during the holiday season.  Grieving around the holiday can be awkward and trying to communicate with someone at Christmas dinner or at the local social function might feel heavy or complicated.  You probably want to talk to them, trust me, they probably want you to talk to them, but you aren't sure what to say or what to do.  So, instead of communicating with the hurting person we avoid them, which adds hurt to injury.  For those who are grieving, Christmas Day can feel painfully quiet, heavy, and isolating. Empty chairs are more noticeable. Traditions can sting instead of soothe. Smiles often feel forced.  This isn't the season to avoid the grieving, it's time to engage them.         If you know someone who is grieving th...

  Nine Ladies Dancing Joy Without Guilt       I have never been much of a dancer.  O' there are plenty of people that comment when I dance and I can assure you that it's memorable, but not in the best way.  No one will use the phrase "good" along with the word dancer to describe me.  Maybe the word unique or different.  Dancing wasn't something that Tiff enjoyed. I would silly dance in the house, but I always wanted to slow dance with my love.  It seemed romantic and sweet.  Dancing is a picture of joy, celebration, freedom, and movement.   And for someone who is grieving, that image can feel almost offensive or like it goes against the grain of their intense emotions.  It feels contradictory or like a betrayal.   How can there be dancing when your heart feels heavy?   How can joy exist when someone you love is missing?   How can Christmas be celebrated when it doesn’t look the way it used t...

The Longest Night “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” — John 1:5 (ESV)       The winter season has been especially difficult this year.  One would assume that the first winter without Tiff would have been more difficult then the second, but so far the second has been more emtionally draining.  It's not just grief either that has caused me to struggle. The colder winter days and the lack of sunlight has caused my desire to stay in bed to skyrocket.  Today is the winter solstice—the longest night of the year. Darkness lingers. The sun feels distant. Creation itself seems to pause, wrapped in shadow.  For those grieving we understand what long nights feel like.  Long nights started when Tiff was diagnosed with cancer.  I would stay awake watching her chest rise and fall.  I would be laid waste with worry.  Anxiety attacks became the norm.  Now the long nights are lonely, silent moments when...

Eight Maids A Milking God Sustains You Through the Ordinary       I have spent my entire lifetime living in smaller, agricultural communities.  At one point in my life I had corn fields on all four sides of my home.  It was a regular event to have the dairy cows break the fence and have them grazing in our well manicured backyard.  It was always fun chasing cows back by using golf clubs and baseball bats.  Milking is a common theme in farming towns, but most milking today is done by machine.  Farming has become an industry and farmers now have hundreds if not thousands of cows. We now arrive at the eight maids a milking. At first glance, eight maids a-milking feels unimpressive.   No music.   No celebration.   No drama or pageantry.   Just work.   Routine.   Daily responsibility.   And that is exactly why this day matters so much for those who are grieving.   Because...