Fly Me Away

My PawPaw died on Sunday. He had cancer all over his body, and he was suffering.

My MawMaw is, I’m convinced, a superhero. I’ve never known anyone like her. She took care of him day and night for a year in a half. By herself. At the age of 83. She didn’t want a nurse. He was her husband, and when she said “in sickness and in health,” she meant it. She has been incredible.

I spent a couple of days at the hospital with him last week. He wasn’t saying much, getting weaker and weaker by the day. When he was hurting or agitated, he’d yell out for her – “Mama! Mama!” And there she’d be. “I’m right here Daddy. I love you. You’re not alone.” It was heartbreaking. And beautiful.


On Saturday, the day before he died, I was sitting by his bedside. He wasn’t speaking much, and when he was, it was to either call out to MawMaw or to ask us to shift him. At one point, his morphine started wearing off, and he was getting agitated. He started saying something over and over again, but I couldn’t quite make it out. I leaned in, and then I heard him – “Sing me a song. Sing me a song. Sing me a song.”

I teared up and sang “Amazing Grace.” He was still agitated. “Sing me a song. Sing me a song.” I thought for a few seconds and then began singing “I’ll Fly Away.”

When the shadows of this life have gone, I’ll fly away.

Like a bird from these prison bars I’ll fly, I’ll fly away.

I ached for him to be free. After I finished singing, he weakly whispered words I couldn’t make out. I leaned in. “Fly me away,” he whispered. “Fly me away.”

“Are you ready to go home?” I asked. He said yes. Those were his last words to me.




PawPaw and MawMaw had a little boy who was born with Spina Bifida. When he was four, he went in for surgery to remove a pocket of fluid on his spine that was life-threatening. He never woke up from the anesthesia. I don’t think they ever recovered. Do you ever really recover from something like that?

MawMaw is now going to have to learn to live without the love of her life, and her best friend. My heart is breaking for her. She’s surrounded by family and friends who love her so much, but tonight is her first night alone in the house. I know she has to do it sometime, but I can’t stand the thought. Did I mention she’s a superhero?

PawPaw has flown from those prison bars. He’s free, whole, healed. Can you just imagine the moment when his little boy ran into his arms?

Grief like this is a strange dance between joy and sorrow. PawPaw knew Jesus. His pastor who spoke at the funeral said he’d often walk out of church with tears streaming down his face. He was an amazing friend. So many grown men came through the line at the funeral home, with tears in their eyes. He helped everyone. He could fix anything. He liked bluegrass and old gospel music. He liked NASCAR. He loved his grandkids. He took care of his people. He sure is going to be missed.

Will you pray for my MawMaw? They loved each other big. I know she will grieve for a long time.

And I know that God will hold her close while she does.

Jonah Wisdom

Just now as I was taking Jonah to the potty, he and I had this conversation.

Jonah: Where did that blister come from?

Me: I think you’ve been scratching there. You really like to scratch.

Jonah: (defensively) No I don’t! It just itches!

Me: I know, Buddy. I know it itches so much. I wish I could take your itchies away.

Jonah: Only my Father can do that.

Me: I know. And we’ll keep praying every day that He takes your boo boos away. But if He doesn’t heal you here, where will you be healed?

Jonah: In Heaven. But if I’m healed here, what will that be like?

Me: No more itchies. No more blisters. No more bandage changes.

Jonah: And my skin would be perfect just like other people’s?

And then I cried… READ MORE

hold fast

Feeling tumultuous in my spirit this morning. So much going on. The events in Boston, a huge issue with the timing company for J4J, so much left to do for that and feeling overwhelmed, what would have been Gabe’s 5th birthday coming up Monday but knowing I will be sitting in court all day Monday, hoping G’s case will be called (for the fourth time), some fears about some future unknowns… READ MORE.


I can’t share too much about G’s case, which is why I don’t post about it too much. But I will just say there are many ups and downs and somedays it feels like it will never end. We had a meeting last week, in which I was given some pretty discouraging news about how long things are going to take. I was upset and after the meeting, went out to the car, and called Matt crying. I just felt discouraged and most of all fearful for G’s safety, good, and future. 

I felt gripped by uncertainty and fear, two things I know are not from God… READ MORE. 


Our Comfort

Can’t you just see them there? Those twenty precious souls, holding hands, sitting by the streams of living water. It’s so hard to find any joy or hope in these dark days, but I’m clinging to this- Jesus came. Emmanuel. God with us. He came in the darkness to bring light. He came to be the Passover Lamb, so that death would not touch us. And although those sweet babes met their earthly death way way WAY too soon and in an unthinkable way, my Jesus leads them now… where their pain and fear is not even a memory and their tears are wiped away…READ MORE

Baby G Update

We are doing amazingly well, and Matt and I keep trying to figure out what else we’re supposed to be doing. You mean you just have to feed them, bathe them, change them, love them, and get up with them at night? That’s it? No meds? No force feeding? No blister popping, bandage changing or tube feeding? No NICU stay? We can wipe his butt with a regular old wet wipe? We can hold him by his ankles to change his diaper? He can wear normal clothes?

This is freakin’ awesome…READ MORE564234_10151380263314056_2057092441_n.


I just finished Beth Moore’s Believing God study, and in one session she talks about us reaching our Gilgal. Gilgal means “circle” and was the name of the first place the Israelites camped when they came into the promised land. Beth talked about God bringing them full circle out of their Egyptian captivity and into their promised land…. saying that we all have a promised land, but unbelief is often the biggest obstacle keeping us from it.

Anyway, after we had to say no the boys’ placement in our home (and felt clarity that it was a definite no), I was so sad, mad, and confused. Why Lord? Why would you let us get that call? Why would you let our family be chosen? Why would you let us love them in our hearts for a week, and then when finally meeting them, have us say no? Why, Lord?… READ MORE217832_10151353248584056_712895923_n