As a child, I was a dreamer with a bad habit of writing run-on sentences and an overbite, for which I wore a nighttime orthodontic appliance. (Thanks to my British ancestry–oh, bugger! The orthodontic work did nothing to improve my third grade writing.) It’s a good thing that the Croatian side of the family gave me a hearty sense of humor. From a French great-grandfather, I inherited a palate for red wine and the “joie de vivre” of finding it on sale. But my love of cashews comes from my Mama and my love of Shakespeare from my Dad.
Growing up in a Catholic family in Denver, Colorado, my five siblings and I ate a lot of spaghetti. We had to be imaginative to survive some troubled circumstances. Marriage and family life are beautiful. When they are wounded, we enjoy less than God’s best for us.
But life happens. An unplanned pregnancy, and the spontaneous miscarriage of my first baby, led me to encounter God’s love and mercy. Here is my story. God’s merciful love comes to each and every one of us, in surprising ways. We can live the happy ending, now. “Do not be afraid” to rejoice and bloom.
They meet with joy and gladness, sorrow and mourning flee away. (Isaiah 35:10)