My goodness this is so stunning. Your words and all they convey brought me to my knees and called tears to my eyes. Bless your work, your writing, and the sincerity of your practice ~
Hannah, you brought tears to my eyes in response. Blessing is much appreciated in these spaces (as it must be in all spaces). Thank you for reading, and for such a kind and generous note.
There’s a Catholic Montessori program called Catechesis of the Good Shepherd and in my daughter’s classroom, there’s a piece of art that shows Jesus running to a lamb that’s stuck in some mud… it brings me to tears every single time I look at it.
Amber, I so appreciated you sharing that picture. These are the kinds of images which take up shadowy residence in the mind and inform more than a few inner leanings. Thank you for reading!
"Yet again I am left holding new depths of gratitude for those things which exist beyond the boundaries of the moment—those simple acts of care which offer sustenance both through great celebration and through great loss.. But is it really grief which must always deliver the invitation to unearth the depths of their meaning?"
Thank you for reading, Haley, and for bringing those lines together. (I so appreciate the way you consistently become the voice of expression for relationship between and within thoughts.)
Thank you for sharing the "scattered, unfiltered, raw" notes for the rest of us. These places of grief and loss and the blessed spring of new life used to be common ground. We've lost so much by confining them (usually) to hospital walls and far-off farms. Your work and your writing matter. Saying a prayer for you and your mothers.
Such a beautiful observation, Leah. I have been thinking recently of how much we have collectively tried to contain these "common ground" experiences into the sanitized domain of the professional, and the astounding loneliness and isolation that has ensued. Even the biblical emphasis on bearing one another's burdens can quickly take on an unspoken clause of "but keep those burdens tidy, manageable, unseen". And neither the celebration of new life or the grief of life ending falls into the category of tidy and manageable, however much we might succeed at not seeing them.
So thankful for your thoughts here. In these times of successfully “not seeing,” being seen in those burdens is often the most powerful force of encouragement. Good thoughts and a balm to me!
Thank you for sharing your heart with us, Jan ♥️ I’ve read this so many times in my postpartum season. Midwives are such a treasure.
I miss my midwife after all our visits together at the end of pregnancy. It’s hard to give her up to the mothers coming after me. But I’ll get to see her for our 6 week visit soon. 🥰
This is beautiful. You are doing such extraordinary work. Reading this brought me to my deepest memories--thank you.
Isabel, I am grateful for the warmth in your ongoing encouragement. It means a great deal. Thank you for reading!
My goodness this is so stunning. Your words and all they convey brought me to my knees and called tears to my eyes. Bless your work, your writing, and the sincerity of your practice ~
Hannah, you brought tears to my eyes in response. Blessing is much appreciated in these spaces (as it must be in all spaces). Thank you for reading, and for such a kind and generous note.
I soak in every word you write, always.
There’s a Catholic Montessori program called Catechesis of the Good Shepherd and in my daughter’s classroom, there’s a piece of art that shows Jesus running to a lamb that’s stuck in some mud… it brings me to tears every single time I look at it.
Amber, I so appreciated you sharing that picture. These are the kinds of images which take up shadowy residence in the mind and inform more than a few inner leanings. Thank you for reading!
<3
"Yet again I am left holding new depths of gratitude for those things which exist beyond the boundaries of the moment—those simple acts of care which offer sustenance both through great celebration and through great loss.. But is it really grief which must always deliver the invitation to unearth the depths of their meaning?"
Thank you for reading, Haley, and for bringing those lines together. (I so appreciate the way you consistently become the voice of expression for relationship between and within thoughts.)
Thank you for sharing the "scattered, unfiltered, raw" notes for the rest of us. These places of grief and loss and the blessed spring of new life used to be common ground. We've lost so much by confining them (usually) to hospital walls and far-off farms. Your work and your writing matter. Saying a prayer for you and your mothers.
Such a beautiful observation, Leah. I have been thinking recently of how much we have collectively tried to contain these "common ground" experiences into the sanitized domain of the professional, and the astounding loneliness and isolation that has ensued. Even the biblical emphasis on bearing one another's burdens can quickly take on an unspoken clause of "but keep those burdens tidy, manageable, unseen". And neither the celebration of new life or the grief of life ending falls into the category of tidy and manageable, however much we might succeed at not seeing them.
So thankful for your thoughts here. In these times of successfully “not seeing,” being seen in those burdens is often the most powerful force of encouragement. Good thoughts and a balm to me!
This was so lovely, Jan. Thinking of you. Thank you for sharing these words and experiences. ❤️
Abby, thank you for reading! I have been thinking of you as well, and will reach out shortly. Please forgive my long silence!
Don’t stress! Here whenever is right.
Thank you for sharing your heart with us, Jan ♥️ I’ve read this so many times in my postpartum season. Midwives are such a treasure.
I miss my midwife after all our visits together at the end of pregnancy. It’s hard to give her up to the mothers coming after me. But I’ll get to see her for our 6 week visit soon. 🥰