As I learned how to think deeply about my feelings I was able to identify their roots. Coming to the realization about my feelings are not facts was quite the shift for me. I had spent decades listening to my feelings and allowing them to lead me.

Today, I don’t have to think through the steps of how to filter, I just do it. I have a thought, and I quickly compare it to what is true. I am still a work in progress and have bad days, but now I have the tools to be able to shift my focus from me to the Truth.

During my healing journey, I have learned that my worth, value, or love is not defined by what I do or how hard I try…It even isn’t defined by what others have done to me. Instead, I know I am defined by the One who created me.

All of us have busy days and as women especially, we often take better care of others than we do ourselves. Sooner or later, the stress of daily living catches up with us and impacts our physical, mental and spiritual health.

There is always something to be thankful for, even when life throws a curveball. Having an attitude of gratitude will help you manage and cope with whatever difficulty you’re facing.

Finding strength to get through some days is exhausting. As time goes on, those days get farther apart. You have to give yourself grace and just breathe. Always remember it's a marathon and not a sprint.

I had so many family and friends that were throwing me life jackets and trying to direct me back. I reached for them and they were able to help me maintain a float. But I knew there is only one Savior, one person that could sit me on that rock.

I use my grief and story to try to help others that are struggling and needing a compassionate ear and heart. If I can help just one person see the love God has for them and help ease their pain of their loss; I feel Kirk's death has meaning and a purpose.

For a couple years after Kirk passed, I felt like a stranger within myself. I kept trying to find footing that felt familiar. I was a wife and a mom. Suddenly, I was a widow with a child that lost her father.

As I have met widows and talked with them, the one theme that comes up in conversations is how much the word “widow” is despised. I always agree with them; the word is awful. The word to me sounds so lonely and cold.

When you hear the word journaling, do you cringe? Do you find it awkward to write out your thoughts and innermost feelings on paper? You are not alone.

Today we would have been 20 days away from meeting our baby. July has a lot of emotions tangled up in there — I know that this month we would have been able to hold our baby in our arms.

As I write, I am cutting open a vein, bleeding, and sharing the torment of losing an adult child to suicide. I cannot share the heartache without entering back into it. And it hurts. The agony still lingers—so many unanswered questions.

I am wired to be selfish. In some ways, we all are, but with my beginnings and the anger I had about my childhood, I couldn’t be who I wanted to be. In my heart, I wanted to be generous, but I was afraid, not a little afraid, a lot afraid.

After the funeral services, the events to celebrate life, the well-wishes, people go home. When people start to go back to their own life, that’s when you have to find your new normal. I knew I would need help.

Emotions from grief are messy and often leave the widower crippled with pain. We become angry at the person leaving us, mad at ourselves as we could have done things differently, or even angry with God because He could have done something to intervene.

After 7-1/2 years of widowhood, after losing seven more loved ones in just a few years, after walking through the throws of grief, Bekah and I are still OK. God always has us in the palm of His hand, and He is healing us through His Word and His care, one day at a time. Not that it's easy.

Domestic violence comes in unique packages, often missed by the naked eye. I had no idea how rapidly my life was about to change.

I'm depressed. I say that as a way to help someone understand that depression is hard, it's debilitating. Depression has made me not want to accept what's ahead for my life; it's caused me to halt. I'm unable to do things I did because fear has crippled me.

When addressing this young lady, I needed to consider her needs and not my plan. My agenda easily could have been to fix her, but I needed to gain an understanding of what she needed to start her healing process.