Fall is here…or is it?

Dear Friend,

Normally, by now my autumn decor would be pulled out of storage, and splashes of burnt orange, flaming crimson, and deep golds would grace my home. An apple cinnamon candle would flicker. Candy corn would fill the glass pumpkin candy dish. Harvest themed towels would hang in the kitchen and bathrooms. Fall flowers would be set on the dining room table—a representation of summer’s end and the beginning of a new season.

Normally.

This year I’m wanting to hold on to summer just a bit longer. I’m not ready to pack away my shorts and bright colored beach towels. Admittedly, it might have something to do with the fickle Midwest temperatures. My mind knows summer has come to an end. Yet, I haven’t fallen into the next season. Physically or metaphorically.

I know the calendar has marked another year of my life, which means I should be slowing down, right? I should be eager to settle for shorter days and surround myself with a lifestyle that adequately represents my age—an age that says I’m ready for the senior discount. Except, I’m not. So, during my time with the Lord last week, I laid all my concerns at His feet. He heard me. He understood my weakness and confusion because my mind might know it’s summer, but my heart. Oh, my heart hasn’t moved into autumn.

And suddenly, I had this revelation—a swelling and expanding in my soul that I recognize as the voice of my Father.

It’s not yet time to harvest.

Not because someone else decided what this age and this season should look like. Not because societal norms or critical observers dictate how I dance the steps to a song written by the hand of God. But when God says it’s time.

The chores and family responsibilities, the new job and writing dreams represent a field that’s bursting with activity as I continue learning how to cultivate spiritual fruit. Yeah, I’m sweaty and tired at the end of the day. I grumble from time to time, too because every season had its hard things. Wisdom must guide the pruning process. And I must not ignore the weeds and pests eager to consume what I’ve grown.

No, it's not summer. But not yet autumn, either.

I’m in between the two.

Maybe you are, too.

My friend, we are uniquely and wonderfully made. Whatever season, or in between seasons, we’re in right now; whatever it looks like, we can cultivate an attitude of gratitude and embrace it. For our Lord has promised a harvest, in due time, based on the seeds sown in our lives. Now, that’s something to be excited about.

Many Blessings,

Julia Kay

Grief is a strange beast

Dear Friend,

Grief is a strange beast, isn’t it?

My mind knows my mom is gone, yet my heart forgets from time to time.

This happened on Mother’s Day. I thought, “I’ll stop by and see mom after church.” Except I couldn’t. I’ve come to realize that we visit cemeteries because we all need a place to put our grief. So, that’s where I went.

That day, I couldn’t “talk” to her out loud any more than I could when the hospice nurse said, “She can hear you.” Her body had been failing, and I knew there would come a time when the doctor’s bag of tricks would come up empty. I knew I’d be sad to lose her and glad that heaven had gained her. I knew there’d be regrets.

I knew.

And yet, a world without her and my mother-in-law in it feels wrong. And I wasn’t prepared for the buried memories to surface with blinding clarity.

I wasn’t really prepared at all.

Here I am, months later, and I’m still grudgingly giving grief space. Sometimes it sits next to me as I sip hot tea. Or it catches me by surprise and a powerful rush sucks me under. Or it body slams me, and I gasp for air. Grief is messy.

Maybe you’re grieving today, too. Maybe you still feel a little wrecked, a little broken from the loss.

There are some lovely scripture verses in the Bible.

Matthew 5:4 says those who mourn will be comforted. Psalm 147:3 says the Lord heals the brokenhearted. Revelation 21:4 says He will wipe away every tear.

Feel better? I sure don’t!

I know. I’m treading in dangerous water here, but please hear me out.

Scripture verses aren’t a magic potion for our wounds. And we must be careful tossing them at people as if they will fix everything and eliminate the sadness that makes everyone so uncomfortable.

If we read the words in scripture expecting them to erase our grief, they become band-aids and when a memory surfaces or something else bumps up against our very real and present pain, we’re undone. And I’ve seen some folks grieve their life away, never really healing, unable to move forward, never really learning a doggone thing.

So, what can we do?

We can humbly dump our suffering, regretful, and grieving hearts at the feet of our Lord as we soak in the scriptures, for it’s then, that we activate His Holy words, and they come alive in us. It’s then that we find comfort, peace, and healing.

We keep doing this until our mourning turns into dancing, until the weeping night turns into a morning of rejoicing. And then we say thank you, Lord because to grieve deeply means I have also loved deeply.

And we must never regret that.

Many Blessings,

Julia

A Time to Grieve

Dear Friend,

My mother passed away on January 31, 2024.

I hesitated in typing those words because it’s sad, and who needs to hear about another sad event, right? Also, I tend to be a private person. However, the very purpose of these letters is to share the vulnerable, the scary, the unsaid, and yeah, sometimes the sad. As with a lighthouse, I hope these letters are a beacon of light for you, not so that we can ignore the storms of life, but that together, we can find a way to shore.

My mother was eighty-seven and one of the strongest women I’ve ever known. She was one of my biggest fans, a constant cheerleader, and loved me unconditionally. After surviving three types of cancers over the course of the last twenty-one years, she battled kidney failure in her last five. Did I mention she was strong? Hahaha. She endured much in her lifetime, but that’s a story for another day.

On that last day with her, hospice had been called, and I sat in her room praying while her favorite hymns played from a boom box. Let me tell you, there was such a poignant presence of the Lord in her room as she took her final breath. It’s a moment that held such sweet sorrow for me; knowing that this woman who lost so much in her lifetime was gaining eternity with her King, and also knowing how much I would miss her—despite the complexities that existed between us as mother and daughter.

Complexities in our relationships are completely normal, I think. It’s part of being human. So, it also feels normal to wish that over the years, I could have been more of this or less of that and I wonder if I did enough for her. Mostly, I hope she knew how much I loved her. And I truly wish she could have seen one of my novels published.

So, what’s a gal to do with all these complex thoughts and emotions?

Warn people—better be nice to your aging parents because you’ll be sorry if you don’t?

That’s not my intention. I simply want to share my experience with you and reveal how my Father God works in my life.

So, what do I do with this sadness and grief?

I keep turning to Him. Day by day, sometimes hour by hour.

He leads me to healing scriptures or soul lifting worship music.

I pray and listen for that still small voice.

And He answers. In fact, one day recently, I lamented the “what ifs” and the “if onlys.” This is what He revealed.

In this grieving process, I can rest in His presence and depend on the great comforter to wrap me in peace. I can love my family because she left me with a legacy by teaching me how to love. I can keep writing because she believed in the gift God placed within me. I can find solace in knowing that any shortcomings I had as a daughter are under the blood of my Savior, covered by His mercy and grace.

Or I can allow the enemy of my soul to keep tormenting me.

It’s my choice.

Isn’t it good to know that we have a Savior that understands our humanity better than we do?

If you’re going through a difficult season of sadness or grief, please hop over to my website and add your prayer request. I’d love to pray for you.

Many Blessings,

Julia