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Sunday, 31 December 2017

Looking back

There are a few special moments that happened in 2017 that I haven’t written down yet. And because I feel they are too special to forget I’m writing them down right now.

Saturday, 30 December 2017

Christmas pj’s

It has been a wish for a couple of years to buy our family Christmas pj’s. 
Lots of our American friends have special Christmas Pj’s and to me; it just sounds like fun.
So this year I decided to act on the wish. 

Wednesday, 13 December 2017

Poking and smacking

It’s the middle of the night but I just can’t seem to go back to sleep. The story that Aimée told me at bedtime keeps going through my mind. 

Thursday, 23 November 2017


Two little girls hug each other in the hall way. It’s unlikely that they will see a lot of each other after this. They’ve known each other for most of their lives; but now it’s time to say goodbye. One will move. One will stay.

Friday, 10 November 2017

Essentials for a trip

I’m up early. This week has been a bit shocking to my system. Last week we spend days in the warm sun. Spraying ourselves with sunscreen. Eating ice.
This week I was looking through the pairs of gloves we own as the first night frost happened.
6 Days ago we flew back from Jordan.
Today I’m packing my bag again.
That means I see more airplanes on the inside then Mark does at the moment. Which is pretty special to say when your hubby is a pilot.

Sunday, 22 October 2017

Pink Laundry Grace

It’s a Monday afternoon. It’s laundry day. I’m on my fourth load.
Once a week I do a pink/ red/ orange coloured laundry. Since the last couple of weeks this load contains a pink ballet costume, with light pink tights, pink leg warmers and a pink cardigan.

It’s been eight years since the devastating news of our daughter’s dead.  Eight years since the dream of having pink socks on my washing line seemed to be lost. Eight years since I cried with every load of laundry for what I thought would never be…

This week I had a phone call with a friend who lost her baby this spring in a miscarriage. We hadn’t spoken to each other in eight years as our lives passed by on Facebook. But when she wrote us an email last week telling us about her miscarriage, naming Hannah by name I felt the need to just talk with her. And so we did. We cried together on the phone. We laughed. We understood each other in each other grief. Hers so fresh, mine never far away.

Today is laundry day. Today, while I’m hanging our second daughter’s ballet clothes on the washing line tears drop down again. Tears of thankfulness. Tears of laughter. Tears of redemption drop down.  With every pink item I thank the Lord for both our daughters. With joy!

Tuesday, 20 June 2017

When life rocks....

I can’t get rid of that sad feeling around my heart. That fogginess in my brain. That tideness in my tummy. The weariness on my eyelids.
Lord- create in me a new heart. In this world that I don’t understand.

So, Tim’s conclusion is on Friday evening, the praying didn’t work. He’s right. The prayers didn’t work. I still had to tell my oldest son that his teacher died that morning. The teacher that drowned in front of all of the children from the secondary level at school.