From an article originally posted September 19, 2012…

Every day I look forward to my mail. The endless cards, prayers, letters, gifts, and treats bless me to no end. A treasured friend purchased me a crib spring that was painted to hang on the wall. In short order, this frame represents a small portion of the love that comes our way.

Each of you resides with me. I enter the house, I’m reminded. I walk to the kitchen, I’m blessed. I head up to my room, I’m humbled. Not a day goes by I’m not touched by you all. I walk this journey with each of you. I know prayers on my behalf have entered eternity and are the aroma of heaven.

My life is a patchwork quilt of tattered and beaten people joining together, talking to Jesus, trying to make our way through the haze of today. It’s beautiful, it’s messy, it’s today.

I have days where I don’t want to do my reality. There are days I struggle to keep up with the demands of what the Lord is asking of me. There are days I need you all to give me eyes to see. Do you see yourself in these pictures? You are there. Right there on that wall, right behind me fighting with me, right beside me with words of encouragement, right before me, as some of you are on this journey ahead of me, and those who will come after. You are all teaching me how to love those who will join this battle in the days to come.

Today, two of the most beautiful scarves arrived in the mail, beautiful and silk. They perfectly fit my head and the fabric helps me from getting hot and uncomfortable. But my favorite was the card filled with words from a friend that shared my childhood with me. The reminder of her is the gift. The reminder of a life lived joyfully, in Tri-town swimming suits eating Jell-O with our fingers and her rocking breast stroke next to my strong free-style, the reminder of friendship that shared hard moments even in our littlest years. A friend that carries some of my hardest secrets; years have separated us as well as distance, but she’s here. She’s not only on my wall, she’s reminding me of better times when I’m face down in a haze of pain and drugs. Her prayers are joining with you all and carrying me through in my hardest moments.

I am grateful. I wish I had more hours in my day to connect with each of you who means so much to me. This is my good week. My week where I make it down to the dinner table. Today I can blissfully arrive to pick up my children from school. I can meet a friend for coffee and listen to Story playing sweetly with her favorite Logan. I’m tired even in my good weeks. I am fighting to show a fraction of the enthusiasm my former life exuded. I love people, I love them. But my strength is not what I’m used to. You all cannot know how much I long to connect with each of you. Your love is daily felt.