There’s a place my daughter and I love to visit. Usually, it’s just the two of us on a day trip. This place is alive with joy and adrenaline, filled with the smell of delicious food around every bend and up every hill. It holds memories of Jason and also of just us girls. It’s where we can carry both grief and joy at the same time.

We don’t go because we’re sad—we go to step away from the hustle of everyday life and to take time to remember. We remember when he roamed the hills with us, cracked endless dad jokes, and delivered those famous one-liners that still live in the notes app on our phones. We read them, we laugh, and we can almost hear his voice and see his face as he shared his brand of comedy.

Recently, my girl and I went back. We walked, felt the rush of adrenaline, listened to music, and soaked in the sights, sounds, and smells. We sat in our favorite spot along the path by the school and the dogwood trees. We needed that time—to slow down, reconnect, and remember—before the holiday season swept us back into its busyness. We needed the thrill rides just as much as we needed hot chocolate and funnel cake.

This time, though, felt different. Leading up to the trip, we had been sitting with new grief, honoring a precious life with dear friends. That, of course, stirred up the familiar grief we’ve carried since losing Jason. I’m realizing grief isn’t something you set down and walk away from—it’s always with you. Sometimes it’s quieter, sometimes it’s more visible, but it’s always present because there was love. We loved deeply, we lived fully, and we built memories I’ll treasure forever. Yet grief lingers in the wake of his death. I lost a spouse, a best friend, and the father of my daughter. I also lost the dreams and plans for a life we’ll never live. I lost hope—and that takes time for my Heavenly Father to restore.

Now here we are again, in the holiday season, facing the awkwardness of celebrating without him. You’d think that after five years it would get easier, but each year brings new challenges, and this year is no different.

I’d love to say holidays get easier with time, but I don’t think that’s true. What I’ve learned is that if I make space to retreat and process my feelings, I can navigate family gatherings—whether they’re brand new or steeped in tradition. Still, it’s hard. Sometimes it takes me a while to process when things don’t go as planned. I know there will be moments that take my breath away and bring tears, and I know there will be moments filled with joy and laughter. This is what it means to live with grief.

Through it all, the one thing I hold onto is that my Heavenly Father has never left me. He’s been by my side, gone before me, and always provided what I need. He’s restored my hope for the future and given me renewed purpose. He’s brought beautiful people into my life who have walked with me through loss, deepening friendships beyond what I could have imagined. Maybe this is what scripture means by “beauty for ashes.” Either way, I am thankful, grateful, and blessed—even in the depths of grief.

My prayer for you, as we all walk through the holidays, is that you give yourself grace in your grief. Pause, rest, and reflect on the memories you hold dear. Find your place where you can hold both joy and sorrow, and process all that you’re carrying.

And if you can’t find a place—ask me. I’ll share mine. It’s big enough for anyone who needs it.

4 years. Reveal the Wonders blog turns 4 this month. I still remember stepping out to hit publish just like it was yesterday. I was deep in grief, and I felt like I was barely navigating the days myself, let alone trying to put together coherent thoughts to share. 

I have previously shared the origin of the name, but I don’t think I have ever discussed how I came to build, create, and publish the blog. So, in honor of being here for four years, I figured it was time! 

While Jason was in the hospital, my dear friend, Jennifer,  encouraged me to journal. I believe her words were something along the lines of, “Friend, write it all down. Write down the medical stats, good or bad, so you can see the changes day to day. Write down what is happening at home, good or bad, so he knows what went on while he was away. By doing this, you will have a record of all the prayers that were answered along the way and a record of his missing days.” So, I grabbed the nearest journal in my home and I began to write. I wrote about the big things, the little things, and all the medical data in between. Some days were difficult to write about, and some days the words poured out of the end of my pen. There are some funny moments that have been recorded and some days where tears stained the paper and caused the ink to smudge. I treasure what was captured in those moments and will forever cherish being able to read how I felt and what all went on during that time. Later, I would learn that I recorded because grief does a complete brain wash of details!

Each year, I read through my journals. I do not do this in search of new content, but I do it to remember. I remember the days God showed up in big ways and the days when a kind friend on her break came and prayed with me in the sitting area of the ICU. I can’t help but laugh at the memories when the police showed up at the house because of issues with the alarm, and there was a U-Haul truck in the driveway, which was tough to explain. I also remember the night our dog ate 2 cups of chocolate chips and had to be rushed to the emergency vet. There were a few days that felt like an all-out attack on our family, and there were days when I felt as if I was being held in the arms of my Heavenly Father. 

The pages of those journals also hold the raw, gut-wrenching words where I poured out how I felt the first time I had to use the word “widow”. They hold the thoughts, emotions, and honest ramblings of a 40+ year old woman processing the loss of her husband, her high school sweetheart, and her best friend. There are days when I read the words on those pages and it feels like I am reading the story of a stranger, and there are days when I read those words and I can immediately feel the pain, the struggle, and the heartbreak of the woman who wrote those words.

The truth is, 7.7.21 will forever be the day that marks a before and after in my life. Before that day, Jason and I had dreams, plans, and hopes for our future. In early 2021, we were actively talking and planning for our 25th wedding anniversary trip the following year, we were dreaming about how we would travel and enjoy our empty nest years, and we were focused on building a home that would one day welcome grandchildren and hopefully great-grandchildren. After that day, I was left to dream alone. I was thrust into a life I had never imagined. I was standing at the brink of forever without the person who was supposed to be there with me. In the wake of that loss, I have had to rediscover my identity as a woman and as a child of God. I have had to rebuild my life without that man. I have had to learn how to plan for trips in a different way and how to dream in a new way. I have had to lean on my Heavenly Father in a way that most will never understand. 

Through all the highs and lows, I keep writing. I write on the days where joy precedes grief, I write on the days where  I would rather stay in bed for no reason at all, and I write on the days where the words seem to pour from my fingertips. I write because I was asked to share my story and what life as a widow is like from my perspective. I write because in these moments and on the pages of my journals, there is a place where I can still feel close to Jason and the life we shared. 

Truth is, there will never be a day when I won’t grieve his death, but what I have found does happen over time is that the sting becomes less noticeable. I never fully understood the “mourning to dancing” and “ashes to beauty” until walking through this journey of widowhood. 

God is gracious and He is faithful. He is kind, and after 4 years of sharing my journey, I am choosing to continue to share. Widowhood doesn’t stop as a particular milestone, so I know I will always have some sort of content for you to read. I do know that as I continue to explore this new volume of life, there will be new adventures to share, and one day I will put this thing in a format you will read from cover to cover. Until then, I hope you enjoy learning along with me, and hopefully, this encourages you to write down your journey as well! Thank you for taking a few moments to celebrate with me.

4 years – 48 months – 208 weeks – 1,461 days – 35,064 hours – 2,103,840 minutes

The numbers only increase from there if you calculate the seconds, milliseconds, and so on. Needless to say, there has not been one moment where I haven’t thought of Jason or missed his presence on this planet. It is shocking how fast time has passed, and yet, at the same time, it feels like a completely different lifetime when we were last together. 

From the time we started dating until he passed, we had spent a little over 28 years together. In that time, we grew up, learned how to be functioning adults, became parents, established our careers, became uncle and aunt 5 times, deepened friendships, and so much more. It was a beautiful “dance” that we shared. Knowing now how his story ended on this earth, I would not have traded any part of that adventure. It has helped to form who I am today and who my daughter is becoming.

I know that there are pieces of me that echo the person I was before July 7, 2021, yet most days, she is not visible. In place of the volume 1 version of me is this stronger, bolder, vulnerable, and more emotionally available volume 2 version. This Volume 2 version is healthier because I now know the importance of taking care of my mental, emotional, and spiritual health. I can feel the impact that spending time with my Heavenly Father has on the outcome of my day. I understand the impact of seeking counsel from Christian health professionals who point me to scripture and allow me to talk through life situations. I also treasure time with my people on a deeper level. I now appreciate the face-to-face interactions in a way that the volume 1 version of me took for granted.

There is a void, a chasm that spans the distance between Jason and me. As I read through my journals from when he was in the hospital, I realize that I felt that void then, but did not know how to describe it or fully understand what was happening. I was focused on the fight and keeping faith. I did not want to “give up” ground even in the slightest. The truth is, I can read the words I wrote four years ago, and I feel the pain, the grief, and the hurt that I wrote; yet, I can also feel the hope, faith, and trust that I put in my Heavenly Father to work through that season. Did it turn out the way I hoped it would? NO! Have good things come through my journey in widowhood and grief? YES! So, on this 4th anniversary of Jason’s ultimate healing, I have listed out some of the things I have done that the volume 1 version of me would have never even agreed to do! Enjoy!

• I have moved more times than I wish to admit
• Started writing and sharing my journey on a public platform
• Recorded and published a podcast with a great friend
• Changed jobs, one planned and one not.
• Jumped out of a plane…with a parachute, of course!
• Traveled and met some incredible people.
• Tried a plethora of new foods and realized that I have been missing out!
• Perfected my grilling skills and tried new recipes… my Dad would be proud.
• Documented milestone moments and memories with some beautiful tattoos.
• Learned more about life and how I fit in this version without Jason by my side.
• Loved others in a way I never thought would be possible. 

Jason, in your 16,695 days on this earth, you managed to make a lasting impression on so many people. Your wisdom, your humor, and your smile will live on in the memories of those you held close, especially Abby and me. Your wealth of knowledge that you passed on to those you mentored in your craft lives on in the work they still do today.  All the clients you helped, well, they still remember you, too! Most people saw you as a quiet and reserved person who spoke into situations at just the right time. While Abby and I saw that side of you, we also saw the real you. The one who had multiple lists on your phone of funny quotes by Abby. The one who loved to play video games. And, as much as you complained, I know you treasured our road trips because they meant uninterrupted time with your girls. Those are the moments that I choose to relive and focus on; the ones that bring joy and a smile to my face. I hope you knew how loved you were!

In the 4 years/48 months/208 weeks/1,461 days/35,064 hours/2,103,840 minutes that have passed, I can honestly say there hasn’t been one timeframe where you haven’t been missed. Your memory is alive and well! Abby and I talk about you, we laugh at things you would have enjoyed, and we even try to come up with some smart comment that you would have said. You would be proud of Abby. She is becoming more like you every day. She may always look like me and be a little sassy like me, but the rest of her is all Jason Stewart. She is the best gift you ever gave me, and I am forever grateful that she is a living legacy. She is a living piece of you that carries your memory on for the next generation. I will always love my “son of a preacher man.” Thank you for the best 28 years and for helping me understand the love of my Heavenly Father in a way that I will cherish forever. I love you boo!

Death, grief, and loss shape a person in ways that are difficult to explain. I wasn’t completely aware until Jason passed away. Losing your spouse leaves you fully dependent on your Heavenly Father. I can say that He has sustained me, He has provided for me, and He has truly been good, even when life hasn’t. I know without a shadow of a doubt that He is faithful. I also know He still has more life for me to live, a purpose for this volume of my life, and a plan that is filled with blessings, joy, and restoration. He is a God who heals, restores, and refreshes. 

I will never forget the days that preceded July 7, 2021, nor will I forget that day. The morning was beautiful. The sunrise was spectacular. The peace that flooded the room, and the words that echoed in my heart that still hold true today: 

“We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and ‘slipped the surly bonds of earth’ to ‘touch the face of God.’” Ronald Reagan. 

I am not sure why it was this quote, but I remember the day I last saw him, spoke with him, and held his hand. July 7 was the day he slipped the surly bonds of earth and saw the face of God. I am so thankful that one day we will be reunited and I will see his healed, whole, and healthy body again. Until then, I will carry the memories, honor his legacy, and tell all the funny stories to keep his memory alive. 

Recently, I had the honor of attending a service to celebrate the life of a man who made an eternal impact on the lives of many people, including myself and my daughter. He radiated the love of the Father and had a smile that indicated he knew from where his joy came. What I will remember most about B is that he could tell a story better than anyone I have ever known. When he spoke, you found yourself completely invested and on the edge of your seat. More than that, he was real and authentic. When he spoke to you or engaged you in conversation, you never felt like it was just something he needed to do, it was something he wanted to do! He was so intentional with my daughter, and for that, I am forever grateful. He was a man who lived and loved like Jesus and I want to be more like B when I grow up!  

When we went for the service, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Once you lose someone close to you, funeral services are weird. They draw you right back to that jello mold moment where it feels like time stops and a whole new timeline begins. As the pastor began to speak, he talked about B, told his own stories of their friendship, and shared what B wanted for the service. Psalm 23 was read. It made an impact on me, as it always does. Then we worshiped. We sang beautiful songs of hope and the goodness of God. What stood out to me the most was the way he talked about the pattern of grieving. As he spoke, I found my mind wandering about how I have walked through my grief journey. There have definitely been highs and lows, lessons learned, and memories made; but more than anything, I found what he spoke to hold true for my life. He talked about in the Bible and in life, there is a rhythm for grieving and a rhythm for living. 

In Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 it gives a beautiful picture of the rhythms of life. 

“For everything, there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace”.

The three words he spoke about in the rhythms of grieving: weeping, wondering, and worshiping. Just sit with that for a moment. Isn’t that such a beautiful picture in just three words? It defines grief in a way that I had not thought about before; not in the stages or steps kind of way, but in a holy and reverential way of grieving. So, below you will find my attempt at explaining what each one has meant to me along the way; and maybe even a small glimpse into what each means to me almost 4 years into this journey. 

Weeping: Job, David, Mary, and Martha all wept after losing their loved ones. Weeping, or rather crying, is an outward sign of the grief and loss that we feel when a loved one dies. It’s natural and should be accepted as such. Even Jesus showed us that he weeps. When he arrived at the tomb where Lazarus was laid to rest he engaged with the family and then wept. Sometimes, I still sit with that short two-word scripture in John 11:35: “Jesus wept.” He wept and grieved the loss of his dear friend knowing that His next action would be to raise Lazarus from the dead. It reminds me to pause and feel the feelings, especially if my Heavenly Father, the God of healing and restoration, cried and grieved…I can too! 

In the beginning, it was difficult for this “don’t show emotions” kind of girl to be vulnerable and cry in front of others. Now, I understand that others need to see that side of me. Crying or weeping doesn’t make me weak. It means that I loved deeply and still hold that love close. 

Wondering: Ask the questions. In grief and loss, we often have questions about why we are in this scenario, or maybe, why not me instead. Regardless, remember Job, David, Mar,y, and Martha all asked questions in the middle of their grief! Throughout this widowhood journey, I have often wondered and asked God “Why”. While I haven’t received an audible answer (and probably won’t this side of heaven), I have received an unexplainable peace. I know He walks with me and goes before me to prepare my way… but I still have questions! 

Worshiping: Job, David, Mary, and Martha all worshiped after they experienced loss. In the face of doubt, hurt, and grief they were able to reach their arms towards heaven and praise their Heavenly Father. Somewhere deep inside they knew the story wasn’t over for their loved one, or for them. In the case of Mary and Martha, their praise was because Lazarus walked out of the grave. His life was restored. For me, there is nothing more precious than spending time worshiping my Heavenly Father. He has been so good to me throughout my life. I was saved as a child. As I grew older, I knew that I was a ‘Christian’. As an adult, my faith was tested. That is when I really knew that I was a ‘Christian’. I also never thought that I had much of a testimony as a teenager or even in early adulthood. I viewed my story of being saved at 5 and still being a Christian as something less than someone with a more radically saved story. When my dad died, I struggled. I struggled with faith and trust that my Heavenly Father was truly who He said He was in His Word. I still went to church, raised my hands, and spoke all the ‘Christian’ words, but deep inside, I was filled with doubt and resentment. One day something started to change. I began to acknowledge that even though my earthly idea of healing did not manifest itself in my dad, he was still healed. Even though I went through loss and held onto grief, my life was still blessed and filled with joy and restoration. Taking these steps, I slowly began to put my trust and my life back in the hands of my Heavenly Father. I restored and rebuilt my foundation of faith in my Heavenly Father. I became rooted and grounded in His Word. I grew and really began to understand the power of worship. Fast forward about 15 years, and I was again faced with the challenge of trusting that my Heavenly Father was good and faithful. His word and plan for my life would not die just because my husband died. Deep inside I felt Him ask me to trust Him and not doubt Him. He asked me to lean in, to keep worshiping, and to tell my story. This is why worship is so precious. Whether it is singing a song, sharing your story, or just sitting in His presence and listening worship is happening. If you see tears streaming down my face when I am worshiping, please know it is because I am filled with gratitude over all He has done for me throughout my life. He is worthy of the time we spend worshiping Him, so why wouldn’t worship be a rhythm in grief?  

Friend, these rhythms are a beautiful picture of how we can walk through our grief journey and stay leaned into our Heavenly Father. How have you walked through the rhythms of grief? How have you wept, wondered, and worshiped along your journey?

Unexpected joy. Is there anything better than these two words to describe happy times in the middle of loss and grief? I don’t think so! 

Lately, grief has felt weird in my daily life. For those of you who have never lost someone close, grief is not linear and does not arrive in stages. It is complicated and messy. Some days you feel good, some days are hard to navigate and explain feelings that bubble up out of nowhere. Then some days make you want to do nothing more than crawl back into bed and sleep the day away. Lately, I have experienced a mixture of these days. As I round the corner to the 4 year mark there are definitely more good days where hope and joy prevail. I know who holds my tomorrow yet the hard days still arrive. Despite this, I keep getting up. I may take a little longer to get ready but I am acutely aware that I need to engage with those in the world around me. Why? Because I need my people just as much as they need me. Grief and loss is a beautiful picture of John 16:33 AMP: 

“I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have [perfect] peace. In the world, you have tribulation, distress, and suffering, but be courageous [be confident, be undaunted, be filled with joy]; I have overcome the world.” [My conquest is accomplished, My victory abiding.]”

This school year, I went back into the classroom after about a 4-year break. It has been fun, hard, and completely different than I expected it to be, in all the best ways. The people I show up for daily are 7th & 8th grade kids. They bring me unexpected joy wrapped in beautifully sassy and stinky packages! The lessons I have learned from them are priceless. These students are different from most I have taught over my 25 years in education. These kids need us to show up, even if it isn’t our best day, they need consistency. They need to see adults care about them and see them as valuable, precious, and people who have a purpose and a plan. Lately, they have been more vocal about making sure I know how much they want me to come back the next day or week. I am not sure most of them know how to verbally express feelings, but it usually comes out like this: “Please don’t die. We need you to come back tomorrow.” When I respond that I will be back, they come back with this: “For real, be careful, you are our absolute ‘G’ and we need you to come back tomorrow.” For the first time in my career, I am moved by these seemingly silly words that come out of their mouth. I am moved in an unexpected joy kind of way. Most see this age group as weird, awkward, and just overall strange. Most also are quick to say, “I could never teach that age!” But in reality, they are people just like you and I, that need to know that they are seen and belong. They may be stinky and weird, but God has a purpose and a plan for each of them. I treasure the quiet moments before they arrive. I pray over my room. I pray that I have opportunities to see them the way my Heavenly Father sees them. I pray for each seat and the student who sits in it throughout the day. I pray that they have peace, that they choose kindness, and that my room is a safe place for learning. 

On the flip side, my home is also a place of peace. It is my refuge and my getaway. I have fought hard over the last 3+ years to get it this way. In the early days, I did not want to be at home because it was empty and sad. The quiet moments were a constant reminder of what I had lost. This is why I filled my schedule and left little to no room for the quiet. I was quite literally afraid of quiet. However, in the middle of my avoidance, if I was truly honest, all I wanted was to stop and sit in the quiet. I wanted to rest, sleep, and recharge healthily. So I fought through the fear of quiet and in the process found unexpected joy in the quiet. The quiet is no longer terrifying. In fact, it is where I can hear my Heavenly Father’s voice the best. It is where I hear Him talk to me. It is where I can hear all He has to say about everything from guiding me in my next steps to what He wants me to write about. It is where I sit in worship, sit and listen, and even sit and watch football. All the above now brings me joy, which is unexpected for this extrovert!

Whether you have a classroom full of beautifully stinky kiddos, a quiet house that is your refuge, or something else entirely, you should have places and people that bring you unexpected joy. You should be able to see and hear from your Heavenly Father in different, yet tangible ways each day. 

“I have loved you just as the Father has loved Me; remain in My love [and do not doubt My love for you]. If you keep My commandments and obey My teaching, you will remain in My love, just as I have kept My Father’s commandments and remain in His love. I have told you these things so that My joy and delight may be in you, and that your joy may be made full and complete and overflowing.” John 15:9-11 AMP

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your graciousness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Don’t worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:4-7 CSB

Friend, what brings you unexpected joy? Where do you feel closest to your Heavenly Father and can hear His sweet voice the best? Go there. Be there. Receive your joy today!

This time of year I always hear the song “Auld Lang Syne” played. The year Jason died it was hard to hear those words because it brought to mind all the things I was leaving behind in 2021. Still to this day, this song brings tears to my eyes, especially the version by Pentatonix.

“Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot in the days of auld lang syne?

In the days of auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne

We’ll drink a cup of kindness yet for the sake of auld lang syne.”

Did you know that the translation for “Auld Lang Syne” means “old long ago”? The song is intended to reflect on the passage of time and the importance of cherishing old friendships and memories. It is often sung at the end of the year as a way to close out the current year and ring in the new year.  What a beautiful picture of being grateful for those celebrating with you and honoring those who may no longer be here. 

The whole concept of the new year snuck up on me during my first holiday season without Jason. I was so focused on making it through the first Christmas that I ignored the fact that I was exhausted. I had taken a long road trip with my daughter and my bonus daughter, got home, and turned around to leave town again a few hours later to celebrate with family. After Christmas, I returned home to pack it up and move. So when New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day arrived all I had the energy to do was sit on my couch and cry as the year changed from 2021 to 2022. It hurt knowing that I was stepping into a time period on a calendar where there would be no physical or digital record of him. I did not want midnight to happen. Then it did. I felt hopeless and lost. But something was stirring inside me to not stay there. Something was pushing me to keep moving and keep going forward. I intentionally surrounded myself with my family, friends, and community. I continued to lean into all that my Heavenly Father was speaking to me. 

Was grief still waiting for me in the new year? Yes! 

Could I hide from it? No! 

Each new year has still been accompanied by the sting of yet another calendar filled with days that he is not here to enjoy. However, I have noticed as I get further from that day in 2021, that the sting hurts less, and in its place, precious memories and stories have taken residence. It is easier to talk about him, to tell dark-humor jokes, and to say weird things about grief. This year is no different. There is still the sting of what was lost, yet 2024 was filled with so many wonderful people, places, and memories! More than that, I am able to sit with the tension of grief and joy, because I can feel the hope and expectation rising up inside of me over what 2025 might hold. This year will hold big milestones just as 2024 did, so I know there will be days that the tears win over the smiles, but isn’t that grief? The grief that I experience seems to be where in each moment you feel as though you could smile and cry knowing you are doing your best to honor a life well lived. I pray that I am making the most of each of these moments and honoring his life and legacy in a way that makes him proud.

Have I walked out this grief journey perfectly? Absolutely not! 

But I have always tried to allow God to lead and guide me through each day. I have leaned on Him and my community more in the last 3.5 years than at any other time in my life. My encouragement to you is that you do the same. This journey is not to be done alone and really life should not be done alone! I write and post here to share what I have learned in hopes that it helps someone who is lost and struggling to move forward. Please know that while each new year is void of that person, it is not void of our Heavenly Father. He is still walking with us just as He did in the previous year! 

So, sit back, tell the stories, say the weird things, and learn more about your person as you continue to make space for the tension between joy and grief in the new year! Above all make new memories, live a life your loved one would be proud of, and savor all the moments! Maybe one day, we’ll drink a cup of kindness yet for the sake of Auld Lang Syne!

Fall and the changing of the seasons is such a magical time. I love the cool, crisp air and all the smells that come along with people being outside more and just living life. In the area of town where I live, it is not uncommon to smell people firing up their grills for a barbecue, the burning of firewood, and even the occasional chimenea burning pinon wood. Ahh…take me outside right now!

Ok, I am now writing outside and that is so much better! When you really boil down the whole changing of seasons it is really just the shedding of what the previous seasons held to make room for what is coming next. This means that going from summer to fall brings a shedding of the vibrant greens and blooms of flowers to a new landscape of stunning reds, oranges, and yellows. Sidenote, my favorite trees are the ones that literally look like they are on fire. It also means that these colors are only around for a short time before the leaves begin to fall leaving the trees bare and ready for their winter hibernation, plus all those beautiful floral blooms have now withered away leaving just the evergreen shrubs to carry the landscaping duties in the flower beds. I remind you of all of this because it literally means that for nature, you cannot move to the next season without change. God designed us with this same rhythm in life. We cannot go from one season of life to the next without some kind of change. 

I love this because it means that our Heavenly Father is not only this creative creator of nature, but He designed us the same way! We must change to grow. We must shed what belongs in summer to experience all that fall has in store and the same goes with the rest of the seasons as well. Does this mean that we leave everything behind? No, but it does mean that we cannot and should not stay the same. Change is inevitable and can at times be painful. I think this is why most people do not like change and are so resistant to it! 

To be honest, I did not used to like change either. I liked things to stay the same because it seemed easier and I liked the predictability. However, I have since learned that change is necessary for growth. Plus, change is something that is expected as I have walked through becoming and being a widow. In the early days, the changes were jarring to not only my mind but my physical body as well. Grief and loss have a way of becoming an uninvited interruptor of life. It interferes with your sleep, your eating habits, your daily movements and so much more than people are usually willing to talk about with others. This is part of the reason I write and share about my journey. It is time we talked openly about this topic in a way that normalizes it and helps those walking this journey feel safe and normal as well!

Now, back to the topic of change, since Jason died I have realized I am the same stubborn and sassy woman I was when he was alive, and yet I am completely different. I look back at the pictures and I see a significant difference between the woman before July 2021 and the woman today. Her eyes tell a story that maybe only I can see because she is me. There is also a depth that I didn’t have before or at least one that I failed to tap into during that season of my life. There was something that changed in me the day he died, much like a switch being flipped. I understood on an almost cellular level that I could not stay the same and survive or really even thrive. This grit rose up within me when I realized that I had to learn a new set of skills to move forward. Skills that have and will no doubt continue to serve me well. Skills that required a shedding of my pride and my self-reliance. There was a time and a place for all of those things in Volume 1, but not in Volume 2. These new skills required me to ask for help, seek out godly counsel, adopt a new role I lovingly call “mother-father”, and step into a new confidence. I could not cling to the me of the past, not if I was going to learn, grow, and change in the ways my daughter needed me to and honestly, I needed to as well. In the past, I never really liked the passage out of Ecclesiastes that talked about seasons and change, but then I began to understand the need for seasons and change!

For everything, there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace. Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 ESV

I have a beautiful community of people around me to encourage me and challenge me to keep changing and growing. Do you? I have people in my life who are widows like me, strong, single women of faith like me, married women that I want to be again one day, and I have older friends and younger friends as well. All of these women and people make up a beautiful community. You cannot and should not surround yourself with only those who look and sound like you. You should have a diverse community. By establishing this you will have people that can point to your blindspots and help you to grow physically, mentally, and spiritually. All of these people should drive you closer to your Heavenly Father and challenge you to put that relationship above all others. 

I have been blessed by my community. I am so thankful for their support and encouragement throughout my life. They have helped me become this Volume 2 version of myself. This strong, stubborn, sassy widow who loves her Heavenly Father more today than yesterday and is very aware of the goodness He has bestowed upon her life. Again, I love fall and change, even though it is quite painful at times!

Friend, what season are you in? Where has God placed you? What has He asked of you today? Most importantly, what do you need to shed/change so you can walk confidently and boldly into your next season?

Three years! I cannot believe that I have been putting my thoughts, feelings, and random ramblings out into cyberspace for three years! So much has changed, and yet I feel like it is just the beginning of all the changes that are yet to come! This one hits a little differently as I am beginning the fourth time doing things and celebrating holidays and milestones without Jason, so I figured, why not write and celebrate this milestone? Here we go!

Oh! This little blog has become so much more than I could have ever dreamed or imagined! When I first began writing, Jason was quarantined in the hospital and it was to keep track of medical data. Later, I used it to track his highs and lows each day when he was in the ICU. I wanted nothing more than to see the small improvements as well as to have a record of any missing or overwhelming days. I wanted to be able to look back and see where God showed up even if I didn’t see it at the moment. 

After he passed away, these writings bled over to a safe place where I could vent, question, and process emotions of what widowhood felt like at age 44 and beyond. Then, those journal entries turned into Google Drive, Google documents, and eventually what I see now as Reveal the Wonders. I was hesitant to share in the beginning, I felt like what I had to say was nothing more than the ramblings of a stupidly exhausted, grieving widow trying to make it in this world. Now, I see it as more. I see it as an opportunity to share what this journey really looks and feels like. I feel like even if it’s just my mom reading (Hi Mommy!) I know I was asked to share, so I am being obedient. 

When I sat down to choose a name it was simple. If you have read the post “What about that Name?” you know how I came to choose Reveal the Wonders, but looking back I see it more clearly now. God knew. He knew when He spoke those words to Jason while we were watching the movie “How to Train Your Dragon”. He knew when Jason secured the domain name. He knew and He provided. You see, my Heavenly Father has this beautiful view of the whole story of humanity. He sees from beginning to end and yet He also sees every intricate detail of everyday life for everyone. That concept is often hard to grasp for someone who can really only see what is right in front of her and what has already passed. Beyond that, I felt a strong sense that revealing the wonders of all God was doing in my life in the midst of heartbreaking loss was at the core of what He wanted me to share. For real, we all know He shows up and provides for us but how many of us share that with others when it happens? I guess I have been doing this, hence the name, Reveal the Wonders. 

So what do I see for these ramblings and how long will I write? Easy, I won’t stop writing. I have so many documents that I have started but haven’t come back to yet. Maybe I will someday and maybe they end up in the trash. Either way, the ones that make it beyond the document and onto the blog are there for a reason. Remember, my Heavenly Father asked me to write and share. In my attempt at being obedient, I write and share, although sometimes reluctantly. My hope is to one day pull all of these ramblings and also some very interesting unpublished ramblings and put them into a book. The goal of the book is for it to read like a beautiful adventure through all the volumes this life has in store for me. But, that is for another day, because it is still a story that is being written by the most notable author I know! Until then, you get to tune in for a snippet or two every so often and enjoy it while you sip your tea or coffee!

Going into year 4 without Jason I am learning more about myself. I am learning more about my likes, dislikes, preferences, and interests. I am learning how to be confident in the woman God has molded, called, and purposed me to be in His plan. I am learning to love and be confident in my physical body, just as much as in my spiritual body. I crave time with my Heavenly Father because I know that without that time, my relationship with Him and others suffers. I am continuing to learn about slowing down, and savoring this life and the people I spend my life with daily!

What is on the horizon? I have no clue and that is where this adventure truly begins! For the first time in my 48 years on this planet, I am ok with having zero control over where my life is heading and I am loving the freedom that giving this over to my Heavenly Father has brought. Somewhere in the last several months, I decided to truly let go and allow God to fully step in and take the helm. I mean, He does know what is best and I cannot rush what He has timed out perfectly for me. 

Whether you have followed along from the beginning or just jumped on the blog train thank you! Thank you for reading, commenting, liking, or encouraging me to continue over the last 3 years. Without each of you, I probably would have stopped sharing long ago. 

“We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we pray for you, for we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love you have for all the saints because of the hope reserved for you in heaven. You have already heard about this hope in the word of truth, the gospel that has come to you. It is bearing fruit and growing all over the world, just as it has among you since the day you heard it and came to truly appreciate God’s grace. You learned this from Epaphras, our dearly loved fellow servant. He is a faithful minister of Christ on your behalf, and he has told us about your love in the Spirit. For this reason also, since the day we heard this, we haven’t stopped praying for you. We are asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding, so that you may walk worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him: bearing fruit in every good work and growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, so that you may have great endurance and patience, joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the saints’ inheritance in the light. He has rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of the Son he loves. In him, we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” Colossians 1:3-14