infertility · Poetry

How Thoroughly God Gives Life!

In 2020, while a child grew in me, I returned to the thing I had loved to do as a child. Writing poetry. And I wrote the years down. Infertility. My silent screaming. God’s history of love to me. My grief. The garden. The starkness of the bathroom floor. The healing. The escape from the grave. Hope Gives a Eulogy. How thoroughly God gives life! His miracles are many. His presence is everything.

artwork by the talented Emaline Westbrook!

It’s been one year since I published Hope Gives a Eulogy. What a gift to learn I could love God with all of me, fully trust Him and live in hope from Him without ever trying to make infertility the good thing. I could hate the pain without bitterness, grieve the loss extensively, and still completely love and be loved by God. I could experience His kindness without contorting His kindness into the brokeness of infertility. Anything good I experienced during infertility is because God changed it. He made the childless story different. He gave the barren woman LIFE. He didn’t let infertility stay the story.

And that was all before my my children.

And as I wrote my son in Hope Gives a Eulogy,

You were never missing,

But so many things were–

Joy and peace and healing,

Dreaming, breathing, being.

A real hopeful kind of living.

So I learned how to play

Hide and seek.

Sometimes, buried treasure

Is a box of lost and found.

And the garden is half-priced

Daisies in a grocery cart.

Maybe the eulogy is a prelude

For new life.

See what I mean?

I’ve got much more to tell you,

And I’m so glad you’ve come along!

I can’t wait to show you all the best

Hiding spots.

(There’s a lot.)

This is a story I’ll be telling forever. To my children, and should God give them, my children’s children. “Come and hear, all you who fear God,and I will tell what he has done for my soul.” Psalm 66:16

Truly God has kept my soul among the living! (Psalm 66:8)

It has been a profound journey of hope and healing. God turned my life into spring and then He gave me two children and expanded that springtime in huge ways. I know this story of God’s love and glory is far from over. I’m glad to have part of it written down. To have shared it with you. And here we are one year later.

To celebrate one year of Hope Gives a Eulogy out in the world, you can purchase this personal collection of 96 poems for half off the original price! This is the best deal to date and the offer goes through Mother’s Day should you find yourself or know a friend who is in a spring-less season this Mother’s Day. May these poems meet you wherever you are. Let me wait with you for however long it takes spring to burst in your soul again. And then some.💕

Perhaps the eulogy is, indeed, a prelude for new life.


Garden Lullaby

May It Be So With Us!

Garden Lullaby, November 26, 2019

So many reasons to love a garden. It’s always surprising me in its boldness to bloom at the most unlikely moments.

These two geraniums have popped into colorful life on a day planned for tidbits of snow and cold rain. This small flowering plant has not bloomed since perhaps the first of spring. YET HERE WE ARE. Two days from Thanksgiving, on a very cold day, spring long past, plants going to sleep…and yet…

AND YET! This!

God shows me such love + treasure through this garden. I am reminded of His beautiful ways. Last night, I read Psalm 65-66. Psalm 66:5 says it all so well…”COME AND SEE what God has done: He is awesome in His deeds toward the children of man.”

What beautiful timing this is. What gorgeous, fragile, strong blooms. What a delightful gift from God. What a surprise! How Thanksgiving wells and spills from my soul to the Creator of long silent geraniums finally blooming in November.

May it be so with us!

Even the Brightest Flower, poem

Your Body Is Strong (To the Women Facing Infertility)

Hope Gives a Eulogy, 96 poems of infertility, healing, hope


Even the Brightest Flower

what happens when

you get thrown

into nothing?

spread out arms

wide to no one?

people move on,

but not you. . .

expanse of heartache,

a cliff for a timeline,

free fall of lost things,

you by a thread.

so, walk to the edge!

but go down softly

with hope,

without breaking

your bones.

sink yourself

into the ground.

way up there

on that precipice

flowers can grow

on cliffs–

the Edge is not

the End.

you can’t command

the sun and rain

or bloom all by yourself.

darkness, silence.

longer, louder.

chaotic stillness.

feeling it all,

all feeling numb.

but I promise

you chose

the way down

that is hope.


hold fast.

hold tight.


impossible hours,

tangled up days,

six feet below?


this is you



how glorious the sun feels,

and it was always there.

and so were you

but underground.

the work of roots

and waiting.

all along, life.

but even the brightest flower

can’t force sunshine

on its skin

before its blooming



Garden Lullaby

Life Spreads Out

Garden Lullaby, September 10, 2019

Golden hour between summer and fall is to die for. This shot captures almost all the small spaces of my Porch Garden. Here you see life spread out farther than one photo can contain.

And I love that.

All these small flower pots get fuller. . .all these fledgling beginnings become grander. . .all these moments to notice and live and give thanks for.

I’m learning a lot, doing the work to get my mind in shape, and soaking up life right here. When I take time to notice, it’s not that hard.