As I sit here listening to the gentle humming of my cat’s purring I am reminded that my world has become less silent in recent weeks. Yet, is it the awakening world around me? Or my own awaking that brings such sweet sounds to my once hushed existence? Being lost in the shroud of depression – having crawled deep inside myself. Deep into the self dug pit and desperately pursuing a livelihood of attempting to conceal myself from anyone not necessary to my immediate world. Barely surfacing for air and eating even less, I was barley surviving and doing my best to simply camouflage myself amongst my day by day world; merely getting by.

But as we all know, my “getting by” was getting me nowhere and I am so grateful for that fact. I am also always and forever grateful for the mysterious way that God works in our lives, how He has worked in mine. From bringing me to Omaha almost 9 years ago, to all that I have been through in the last 2 years. My plan vs. God’s plan were once again quite different, and even with some of the recent struggles… I would ask for them again, because they are truly what strengthens us. We are reminded to “Be thankful for all of our storms, because without them, we would never know how truly strong we are.” This is indeed so very true, and I thank God each day for how strong I am, and for being with me, through each and every storm. I don’t know about you, I keep childishly wanting that straight line to the finish, and He simply knows that’s not the path… But, when I continue to trust, and to truly step out in faith, HE is there and the fruit of my efforts are more than seeds in my hands.

Seeds that are blossoming into beautiful plants that I no longer destroy. (I used to have a black thumb, but I am happy to announce I have 6 beautiful healthy plants in my home) Today there is a beautiful plant beginning to blossom where there was once was so much brokenness and a silence that was deafening.

It brings a smile to my face when I receive a morning text from my mom and we can talk about simple things each day, like Husker VB or college softball, two of the things she enjoys watching. She sent me pictures of her flower garden, each photo, each text helping to chip away at the long held silence… helping us find our way back to each other. We would talk about going for walks, and as we got comfortable texting, we could start talking too. Hearing her voice, knowing how long it has been; decades of brokenness and never the right time or way to say or speak… so it simply kept being unspoken. Until our recent tragedy reminded me that it’s never too late, and as my brother so simply stated a few months ago, “it doesn’t matter anymore.”

And he was right, I/we could hang on to all that was, or wasn’t and get caught up in the woulda/coulda, or we can simply move forward and enjoy the time we have and share the moments we are given and choose love. That’s what I choose to do moving forward, to love and to try to be a good daughter; because when I needed her most, when I needed her to protect and take care of me, she did 110%.

Then there is the beautiful blossoming that is occurring with my writing, after being quiet again, but continuing to feel that familiar pull; to hear the quiet whisper within myself, “It’s time to tell your story.” Meeting women who share my experience, my pain. Finding true healing after all these years. Finding healing again, after all the loss these past two years. Having that healing and loss lead me back to my journal, with this need to actively pour the words out of me. Often flowing like a ballad or lullaby – soothing, healing as they left my heart and soul and found their way to the paper; waiting to be fully shared with all the other broken but healing souls who they reach.

So it was with intention I took the steps that allowed myself to be vulnerable. Questions were asked and answered, and I said YES! Today I can reveal I am writing with purpose and I have a collaboration that I will be a part of and I will be reaping the rewards of trusting in Him and walking by faith and allowing songs of hope to be sung in the silence.