Another Trip Around The Sun

Today marks another trip around the sun. Sixty-nine of them, apparently. One short of 70. Which feels impossible, because in many ways I still feel like the girl squinting toward the horizon asking, “What’s that?”

When I look back, the landscape of my life is anything but simple. There were childhood years shaped by fear and confusion, living under the shadow of a narcissistic mother and abusive stepfather whose cruelty left marks that took decades to understand and even longer to heal. The loss of my only brother, my protector, when I was 14. Those years could have hardened my heart forever. Instead, they taught me something about survival - and eventually, about grace.

I think often about my beloved Jon, the deep love we shared and the weight of his loss. His memory is still there in quiet everyday moments, reminding me how fiercely love can live inside a life.

But my story is not only about grief. There have been moments of wild, ridiculous joy - laughing so hard around a table with people I love that I thought I might turn inside out. Standing somewhere far from home, staring out over water or mountains, whispering a quiet prayer of wonder. Long conversations about God, doubt, faith, and the mystery of it all. I have loved deeply in this life. Sometimes that love left bruises. Sometimes it left wisdom. I think about how blessed I am with a loving family, who is always by my side - thick or thin. I cherish deep friendships built over a lifetime - my ride or die. And, certainly, I give thanks for God who has helped me heal my heart and expand it to love deeply and fiercely.

And, somewhere along the long road of healing, I learned something that changed everything: I learned to love myself. Not in a shallow way, but in the deeper way that says I belong here. My life matters. My story matters. And what amazes me most, standing here one year away from seventy, is this: Despite everything - the heartbreak, the beauty, the questions - I am still willing. Willing to feel deeply. Willing to laugh loudly. Willing to keep searching for God in ordinary places. Willing to keep showing up for the next chapter. Sixty nine trips around the sun. What an astonishing ride it has been. And somehow, beautifully, I’m still here for it - for all of it - and looking forward to the next horizon with wonder, joy and gratitude for what comes next.

So, here's to another year of wonder, delight, and lots of laughter!