The Journey Home

It’s hard for me to believe that the month of June is upon us. This year has been a blur, and yet, it has drudged on. I am entering a new season after what has felt like endless years of lament have lifted. It is hard, and at times disorienting, when a season that truly feels forever transitions.

In recent months, I have struggled to slow down. My work load has become more busy. I have added more support of long term pregnant patients and staff in the hospital. It is easy for me to make work a distraction from experiencing my inner life. After pausing this week, I realize this is a reality check to my busyness. I have not been mindful of pausing and noticing- myself, my family, and those I care for. I have felt myself flying through the day, distracted, and my brain has felt in overdrive along with my body. I have forgotten important commitments and lost/left important things- like my keys on the counter at the movie theater through a 3 hour movie, and at work tracing all my steps (that I could remember) in terror. They were in the bathroom from earlier in the day. Someone had found them and turned them in. Whew. What has finally slowed my roll to the realization that I am in a place of chaos and overwhelm was trying hard to remember my word of the year and trying to recall a few days prior. I couldn’t place my word nor the day, and my anxiety rose to a panic.

I honestly hadn’t thought about my word since February. March is when our world turned upside down. My husband was left questioning his call, his ministry, and the community of which he has loved and devoted his life to for 16 years. From this disorienting and insecure place within me, I frenetically started focusing outward on everything I could. My garden, which has been my solace, became a main stressor. My focus on the extreme drought led to an obsession to keep everything alive. As mentioned, I threw myself into work, which comes so easily to this workaholic woman.

Speaking of my garden, most recently, we have been in an extreme drought. I have waited and waited for rain through March. April. Most of May. During this time, I would daily water a section of my garden up to 3 hours in the evening. At times, I thought about just letting it go. However, my need to make something live created in me resilience. My dad bought a soaker hose that I was able to water my cucumbers and tomatoes overnight. I’ve never loved an object so much than my action hoe, but the soaker hose was coming in a close second! My husband actually found solace in watering my flower garden around our house and for that I am grateful. Nature just does something special to the human spirit and heart. It grounds. It nurtures you back. While you physically water, nature intrinsically waters you and gives you what you need to sustain those hard and painful moments. Rain eventually came in recent days and it has not stopped. Moderation comes to mind. We are getting too much of a good thing at the moment. Maybe I can see it as a washing away of negativity and long suffering…

With the garden beginning to produce, I am working and stressing about making preparations to store, pickle, can, and cook my harvest. Last summer was incredibly busy. I struggled to keep afloat. My daughter’s recent end of the school year events, and her leaving a few days ago for Texas, have been very consuming. It’s crazy to think summer is upon us. What happened to this year?! The days and life have gotten away from me. My word of the year is thoughtful. I have not been very thoughtful. Instead of shaming this, and I tell my patients and others, I can only start with today.

I pause today to reflect. I pause today to slow down and notice. I notice how in moments of true solitude while watering my vegetable garden lately the birds are abundant. My hope is that they are eating the bad bugs that are coming to my blooming produce. There are more this year. There are more gnarly looking bugs that I’ve had to google to make sure they aren’t pests. With planting potatoes and onions this year, the bugs are new and different. Yes, I’ve had to take care of a few potato beetles and some new looking aphids. The lady bugs have been fascinating and noticing not just the traditional red with black spots. In my flower garden, during the horrendous drought, I kept the bird feeder filled and cleaned out the bird bath daily, adding fresh cool water. I’ve had silent moments of noticing the different kind of birds that come. Some like to drink alone, others with company. I had not noticed in my life until recently the birds actually taking a bath. It truly warmed my heart and made me laugh. I haven’t been too completely overwhelmed to not notice a few moments in the day. This helps me breath into the shame.

Reflection, as I have said numerous times in the past, is not something I run towards and not something I feel comfortable doing. Especially lately. I have had strong feelings and opinions towards my husband being rejected as senior pastor at our church. I have written about the disappointment, anger and deep sadness I have held, and my disgust with the usage of “God’s Will.” This place of pain has been confusing, disorienting, and at times has made me want to run and not turn back. I have not. I continue to show up as I am able. I continue to come back to my extensive study of the book of Jonah. I sat with the book of Jonah through the Lenten season of 2025. I have had a long journey with anger, even rage. I resonate with the book of Jonah. Not wanting to go to a people he clearly didn’t like, to share that God loves them and wants them to repent. He was human, he had feelings. Running from God in the opposite direction, only to have God clearly show up in magnificent ways to call him back to his purpose and call. Jonah ran hard, even a near death experience, only to agree to the call of God and go. I don’t believe he thought the people of Nineveh would listen and repent, I bet he even hoped they wouldn’t. He’s human. How many of us want the wrath of God to come on those we don’t like… I’m human too. To Jonah’s surprise and despair, the people did repent and God had mercy on them. I imagine many times what it must have been like to sit on that hill and wait. and to watch. and to hope, not in the sparing of the city but in seeing its destruction. I just imagine myself there, it’s easy sometimes. Especially now. Sitting on my hill. In the blazing sun. Waiting and hoping. Having the reassurance that God is there too. He, after all, gave Jonah a bush. When I start to enjoy the shade, while watching and waiting… it is taken away. Oooo, how mad and miserable I would feel. All God asks Jonah to do is to love God’s people. Love God’s people the way God does. Celebrate with them when they come to acknowledge the truth. God’s truth is not always what we see as our truth. Be sad with God when God is hurt by what God’s people say and do. God asks us to present. To be merciful. To be loving. To be kind. To be thoughtful.

At times, I am truly sitting on my hill, like Jonah, watching and waiting for the wrath of God. I can only hope that those in power and position (as a whole but specifically in a current situation in which I am sitting) are truly praying for God’s wisdom and discernment because I truly think people, including myself, are selfish and narrow minded. When I think of my husband, I see what a true disciple, prophet, leader and image bearer of Jesus he is. I lament that he has not had time, nor was he given opportunities, to show how amazing of a minister and pastor he could be. I am angry at the injustice I see and others have shared they see, in how indecent and wrong he has been treated. I guess in time we will see how the chips fall. For now, I find myself on the hill. Not all the time. I come down and love those that are in community with me and those who chose to want to be in community with my husband. I sit on my hill overlooking a few. They are not the whole. I continue to remind myself of this. I can hold both at the same time. I can hold the few and I can hold the community I love and cherish. Both can be true. That’s the complexity of being human. When my husband recently told me God is not on the hill. I argued that God is on the hill and God is with me. God is sad and God hurts to watch me sit. However, God is still there. Always. He could not disagree with that. God is always present with us, no matter where we are. God may not agree with us, I know God doesn’t agree with me on my hill. However, God sits with me. God holds my sadness and my hurt. God shows mercy to those that cause that pain. And God comforts and heals the broken-hearted.

My hope is that I continue to slow down. That I continue to reflect. That I continue to sit with these hard, confusing, and uncomfortable feelings and thoughts. This has always been a space for me to engage this. Mostly for myself, but if any insight helps anyone in the greater web not feel alone, then I’m grateful you are here in my tiny corner of the web.