http://www.snowflakesandjoy.blogspot.com/

Joyfully After All, Sheridan, WY (2026)

01/23/2026

Brr... winter's chill has come upon most of America. For those of us in the Wild West that means below zero temps and water constantly running through our faucets. Right now my cats and I are snuggled in bed quite cozy before I get up to head to work.

I'm thinking this weekend I need to work on the Snowflake's 2025 photo book. Each year I make her one. Its fun for me, and something I hope she will enjoy for decades to come. I try to have it ready by Valentine's Day.

This year I'm slacking. I haven't wanted to do it. 2025 is the year where Papa will disappear from photos. Its hard. A physical reminder of what we feel daily.

2026 has been an exciting year so far, lots of good things on the horizon. My career, Snowflake's education, a much needed trip planned, our silly cats, friends and family doing cool things; and its still just January!

Papa is with Jesus now living his best life; he is healthy, whole, and amazing. We smile thinking about it. For him, 12-12-25 was a day of celebration. To live is Christ, but to die is gain. That's exciting.

We here? We are adjusting to this After-Before. Tears still come easily. Memories are more painful than comforting. It feels weird planning things without him. The table still seems empty. Its been less than 2 months.

We are being gentle. Grief exists outside of time. It hits you WHAM! BAM! In the face at times. At others, it creeps up slowly and you realize tears are falling and you wonder how long that has been happening this time.

2025 was the year we said "goodbye". 2026 is the year we learn how to live an After-Before. Its the juxtaposition of a holy hard.

So, I'm dragging my feet. I'm not ready for the book. I want to do it right and the wound is still raw. The holy is still more hard. It still seems unreal. I am not ready to see in photographic evidence the reality that we don't get to make any more memories with Papa. What we have is it.

And that is ok. The book will come in due time. Maybe in 2027. Maybe in a couple of months. Grief doesn't require apologies or explanations.

2025 the year of goodbye. 2026 the slow move forward. 2026 is smiles, laughter, excitement, but seasoned with meloncholy. And that isn't something to pity. It is a sign of the deep love that still exists and will one day be satifised with the best of reunions!

Till then, here's to making 2026 a year that will fill the photobook with lots of good.

01/18/2026

Happy Sunday!

Grief is a weird beast, journey, experience (however it helps you to view it). One of the things that has been the hardest for me are photos.

I take a LOT of photos because I don't have the greatest memory and photos help.

I still love photos but it is very strange to see family photos without Papa. It was always Mama & Papa. Now, just Mama. And those are precious. I'm thankful to still have my Mom around. It is just weird to not see Papa.

The days are getting easier. I can accept condolences and talk about him without wanting to run and weep RIGHT away. The mask stays in place better.

Now, I'm noticing more all the holes he has left. All the life he isn't here to enjoy. I am also becoming more able to be excited for all that He is doing now. He is WITH Jesus. And that is amazing.

We are learning to find our joy in this After-Before. Right now it is just glimpses and moments. In time the joy will be stronger and more vibrant as we remind ourselves that each day brings us that much closer to our Heaven Going day.

This world is not our true home, but with the Holy Spirit's help we can serve Christ while here and have a truly incredible (and that looks different for everyone, for me it is simple, enjoying my circle, loving my family, and taking an occasional trip) time. We can fully live, even with the holes created when Abba calls another traveler home. Joy is being in thr moment while focusing on the prize of eternity.

01/12/2026

One month. The longest month of my life.

I spent years living 2000 miles away from my parents, but they were always just a call away and we talked daily. God gave me two great parents. Two people whom I admire and love spending time with.

And now I've gone one month without talking to my Dad. The longest stretch ever and it just gets longer each day. It is hard to imagine that for the rest of my life I don't get to chat with one of my favorite humans. Seems impossible. But it is what life is now. I'm living in the After-Before.

After my Dad went to Heaven and Before I get to go.

The A-B is hard. It is sad. It is long.

The A-B is life though and I have to LIVE it and not just survive it. I have to live because my faith tells me I'm not without hope of a reunion. An eternity with Dad serving Jesus together. I have to live it because life is made for living.

So, I grieve when I need to, but I am trying each day to focus not on who is gone but who is with me. I have my Mom, daughter, sisters, friends, work, and most of all my Savior.

I may not have a nice snowy winter (in fact it is incredibly warm and dry for this time of year), but the sunrises lately have been beautiful! My daughter is a great, quirky human, my work is valuable, and so much more. Like amazing friends.

God is showing me that as deep as this grief is, He is greater, stronger, and larger. I will walk it, but I walk it knowing what awaits. HE awaits and He isn't just on the "other" side somewhere. He is with me. He grieves with me.

I think that is the lesson of Lazarus. "JESUS WEPT". Two little words that bring such comfort. Jesus as God knows the future. He sees the big picture. He knows Heaven is waiting and still He weeps with us and walks with us.

We serve a God who celebrates with us (He partied at the wedding in Cana) and weeps with us. He is with us for all of it. So we LIVE because the Creator of life itself is our constant companion.

01/10/2026

Dad loved Java Moon (JM). He visited the other coffee shops in town,, but JM was his place. As a principal he held interviews and met with parents there. As a pastor he had Bible studies, meetings, and 1:1 visits at the Moon. It wasn't uncommon for Dad to be there for hours and multiple times a day.

It should come as no surprise that he and I spent many an hour in one of the booths talking about nothing and everything. JM was his vibe and his vibe still lingers there. JM is more than great drinks and yummy food. JM is community. It is deep chats and friendly chatch-ups.

I have been avoiding going there. Java Moon is Dad and I was afraid I'd lose it and start weeping in public. Not something I wanted to do. I do love the place though and knew I needed to show myself that I could go and get through.

So yesterday I had some work I could do from anywhere while my daughter was in an appointment a couple of blocks away. So I prayed, took a deep breath and went in.

I ordered my drink in Brad's mug. I sat in his booth (when it opened up) and I worked.

There were some quiet tears. There were loads of memories, I kept expecting to see him come in. He never did. That hurt. But at the end there was comfort. Java is still Java. It is still great drinks and yummy food. The community vibe is strong.

He's missed, but he'd want us to keep making memories and meeting at the Moon.

01/07/2026

Cancer. Six little letters. Six life changing letters. Cancer, a word that I have come to hate with a passion. Cancer is a thief. Cancer is a word that my Mom would wash my mouth out for saying. Cancer, an equal opportunity murderer. Babies, children, young adults, adults, elderly, rich, poor, healthy, sickly, no one is immune if Cancer chooses you.

Cancer. A beast. Cancer. A killer. I do not have any nice words for cancer. None. It is just stupid. Cancer needs to go to the eternal hot place and never return.

Cancer. Your body attacking itself. The cancer army is like the N***s, killing at will. Taking the good, the bright, the beautiful, the kind, the loving, and just eradicating it. Cancer doesn’t care about your feelings. Cancer doesn’t care if you have a family dependent upon you. Cancer doesn’t care if you can’t afford treatments.

Modern medicine has radiation and chemotherapy. There are foods that are said to be cancer killers, but if cancer wants to take you out, we are still hard put to win that battle. So often cancer wins and we erect another headstone. Cancer claims victories every single day. Cancer is not something to be taken lightly. It is an incredible foe.

The Bible tells us, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10). In Psalm 6:2 we see David pleading to God, “Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing; heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled.” And later in the Psalms we have, “The Lord sustains him on his sickbed; in his illness you restore him to full health.”

Cancer is big. Cancer is scary. Cancer is deadly. Our God is bigger. Our God is mightier. Our God is life-giving. God can choose to heal. Sometimes God chooses to heal through removing the cancer. Sometimes God heals by calling the person home to Himself.

We have to trust that God has our best, our eternity in mind. Even when things seem dark, hard and scary down here, when we are facing a foe that seems to have overwhelming force, we have to remember that God is bigger and better. God is our Allied force.

Dear Lord,
Abba, Father, help us to remain focused on you and your strength, and not on stupid cancer. When the pain of fighting is too much. When we feel helpless watching those we love suffer, remind us that you are our refuge. You are our comfort. You are our General in this battle. Remind us in the midst of fear and sorrow that you are our Giver of Blessings. When we feel the least blessed as we face this beast of Cancer remind us that your love and our salvation is a blessing that no cancer can steal from us. Strengthen our faith, minds, hearts, and bodies. May we feel Your Holy Spirit within us providing what we need. Amen.

01/01/2026

And just like that, its 2026. Happy 250 to America!

Christmas without my Dad was tough. It was quiet. The merry seemed forced. We still sang Happy Birthday to Jesus. We celebrated our Savior, but there was an elephant in the room.

In stature he was not a big man, but he was our Barnabas. His humor, his humility, his kindness permeated and filled rooms. His absence was large.

We got through Christmas. I thought I was doing ok. And then 1030pm hit last night.

Grief can be like a rogue wave. You are sitting there on the beach, minding your own business and WHAM a rogue wave just engulfs you.

That was how 2025 ended for me. A giant wave of grief. A realization that I won't see, chat with or hug my Dad at all in 2026. Nothing. He's just gone.

Yes, he is in Heaven and I am happy for him. I am excited for him. His gain though is our loss.

So I cried. I looked at photos. I listened to recordings with his voice. I wrote him an email. I reminded myself that it is ok to not be ok.

So 2026 is starting a bit meloncholic. The year seems more empty and vast like a wasteland and not new, young, and hopeful.

The waves are calming down again and I see beauty in the distance. Right now, it may be a new year, but its still a time to mourn. The singing and dancing time will come.

For now, we sit, watch the waves and remember that with Jesus, the rogue ones are survivable.

12/22/2025

I love Jesus. I trust in the truth of Scripture. I know that God is holy, just, unchanging, loving and good. I am also mad at Him right now. I’ve tried to explain it as just being mad at the situation, but if I am being completely honest with myself, I am mad at God because of who I believe God to be. Because I believe God is all powerful, I’m angry that He didn’t use His power to remove Dad’s cancer and allow him more time here. Because He is all loving I am angry because does HE not see how much we are hurting? Why didn't He fix it. He could have stopped Dad’s death.

God CREATED life. He is the giver of life. He is YAHWEH, and still my beloved Dad, my daughter’s Papa and best friend, my mother’s husband of only 47 years, our modern day Barnabas, that man is just GONE. God did nothing to stop it. God has healed so many people I know from cancer, and I am very thankful each time that He does, so why not my Dad? Cancer is such an evil thief. I hate cancer and rejoice with my suvivor friends. I just wanted Dad in that group.

WHY did He choose to let my Dad suffer, to hurt, to starve, and to DIE when we still need him here? It wasn’t his time. So yes I’m angry at stupid cancer. I’m angry at dad for not fighting more. I’m angry at God. I’m sad and I’m angry.

I still love God. I still trust He is who the Bible says. I still believe that salvation comes through Christ. None of that has changed. I’m just hurt and I’m angry. I am running to God today in my anger. In my hurt. In my questions. With my “How could you?” With my, “Why did you?” With my “I hate this!”

Christ came for those of us who are hurting. Christ came to be the balm for all our emotions. Christ came to celebrate our spiritual highs and to be the answer for our hurt and our anger. He is pleading for those of us with broken hallelujahs, for those of us feeling less than faithful to come. The manger and the cross are for all times, but they hit differently when you feel bereft.

Right now I’m finding comfort in the God that CAME. He isn’t just sitting up in Heaven loving from afar. He came. He got dirty. God got mad. God wept. God CAME. He GETS it. He can handle my anger because He understands human loss. He is the God of life, but He experienced death, and so He knows. I can crawl to Him. I can yell. I can be angry at this God I love dearly. I can question right now because I’m talking to a God that felt what I’m feeling.

Don’t let your questions, your hurt, your shame, your fear, your anger, whatever you are feeling, don’t let it keep you from running to Jesus, from worshiping at the manger and clinging to the cross. God is going to love you through it.

The manger is for me. The cross is for me. The manger is for you. The cross is for you. Jesus is for all of us. He wants to take all that we are experiencing and use it for good. He wants to love us through all of it. We can’t scare Him. Our feelings, our past, our sins, our questions, they all feel so big and overwhelming. But our God is even bigger. So, run to Him. Our mess is never too messy. Our anger is never too angry. Our questions are never too big. Our hurt is never too painful. What feels too much is not. God is bigger, larger and stronger.

The simple manger welcomed God to our mess. The ugly cross proclaimed His love to the world. The empty tomb shouts His power. God can handle what we can’t. Christmas is our reminder that God CAME. So go to Him. Warts and all, just go.

12/21/2025

Yesterday we gathered, at church and online. We prayed. A few of us spoke. We sang hymns. We laughed. We cried. We celebrated. We remembered. We honored. We preached the Gospel. I think Dad approved.

And now we carry on. We go forth. Some days will be filled with tears. Other days will be smiles and laughter. Right now the tears seem to be winning, and that is ok. It is.

We were created for life. Death is the ultimate consequence for sin. So yes it is painful. We ALL have sinned and fail to live up to God's holy and perfect standard.

Some sins are blatant, and some are quieter, sneakier. Some we have tried to sweep under the rug and say, "those are not sins anymore because its just who I am." But they are because God doesn't change. We can find comfort in His steadfastness.

Death is HARD. It hurts. It rips loved ones away. Its a rest of our lifetime seperation.

But Christmas! Oh wonderful Christmas! Love wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in a manger. Christmas is the answer. It is the balm.

God in human form. Holy, perfect, justice demanding God. Loving, forgiving, and salvation providing God.

We can't be perfect, we can't escape death, so God came to us. He lived, perfectly. He died horribly. He was buried, alone. Dead. But not finished. He rose, once 100% dead and now 100% alive!

Death no longer gets the final word. Yes it still hurts. We still have to experience it, but we now do so with hope. "Believe on the Lord, Jesus Christ, and you will be saved." Faith is the path through death to Heaven.

Jesus is the comfort in the midst of grief. Hope holds the tears as precious.

So we carry on. We cry. We laugh. We live. We do so believing in the truth that it is only as temporary as this life. Because of what was started on Christmas with God in a manger humbling Himself for our sake.

Merry Christmas season to all.

12/20/2025

Tomorrow we say our public good-bye to my Dad. Next week we celebrate our first Christmas without him in the room. A bittersweet way to end advent and say happy birthday to Jesus.

It has been 7 days now without him. 7 days where he doesn't answer texts, I can't run over and check on him. 7 days with a lifetime left to go. Seems overwhelming. I want him back. Selfish but I do.

On the flip side. Dad gets to see Jesus as Heaven sings Him happy birthday. A glorious way for Dad to spend his time.

Dad has had 7 earth days (I'm not sure how time works up there, that will be fun to discover) to be healthy. 7 days to talk to family and friends. 7 days to serve others with endless energy. 7 days to worship at Jesus' feet. He doesn't want to come back.

So tomorrow we gather to weep, to say goodbye, and to celebrate a man who lived well, served humbly, and loved deeply. Tomorrow...

12/16/2025

Grief is an interesting monster. It attacks each of us differently. Deeper grief doesn't necessarily signify a deeper loss, we grieve how we are wired. Some of us process step by step through the "grief cycle". Some of us bounce back and forth through grief hitting the 5 stages seemingly randomly. For some, grief travels quickly through, for others it is long lasting.

There are few right and wrong ways to gieve. Grief is personal. It is truly a journey. We can't rush it.

Right now I feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest and his name is Despair. Mr. Anger rhino is trying to push him off and take his place, and sometimes he does. I have to remind myself it is early days yet. Harder days will come and better days will come too.

God promises us in Ecclesiastes that there is a time for everything. A time to weep and mourn, but also a time to sing and dance in joyful abandon. I am clinging to that promise as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.

This shadow is big and dark. But God is providing just enough light right now to show me the next step. The next right thing.

It may feel heavy and hard to breathe at times, but I have Yahweh, the Giver of life sustaining me.

As much as I want my Dad back, and let me tell you, I want my healthy Dad back. I want to hug him and never let go. Standing up, releasing him, and letting the funeral home wheel him away, was good for closure but so very hard. I would promise God anything if it would bring Dad back.

Yet, I don't want him to have to come back. If God would give me a peek into Heaven I would see Dad walking around with friends and loved ones. I would see him healthy. I would see him serving Jesus in Dad's quiet humble way. I would see contentment and worship on his face.

Right now grief says to plead for Dad's return to ease the pain and get the pachyderms to leave. Faith and love say to celebrate for all that Dad has earned and the life he is living now.

Grief may seem to win for a time, but ultimately I trust that God's peace will be a balm that slowly replaces pain with peace, tears with laughter and smiles, despair and anger with excitement, hope, and the joy of the Lord.

That's all coming. Right now I mourn, but with the Jesus beside me that my Dad now sees. So yes, I want him here. I want another hug, but he is where he belongs and someday I'll get to join him and get the most amazing hug.

Pain has an expiration date for the Believer, joy doesn't. Joy gets the final word.

12/12/2025

Christmas is going to be different from now on. Each day will be different. There is a little less laughter. The sun seems not so bright. Even my beloved snow seems less sparkly.

We played our last Yahtzee game this Fall. You told your last joke. You wore your last crazy tie and crazy pair of socks.

Death is stealing from me one of my favorite humans. Cancer is an evil and demonic thief and I will hate that word for the rest of my life. I will never understand on this side of Heaven why you had to go now.

My heart shattered in August when the doctor pronounced your diagnosis. Your death sentence. And now, hour by hour it sprints closer.

I weep for the man Earth is losing. You have touched so many lives. Mine especially. Yet even in my shattered state I rejoice. You are about to breathe Heaven's air! You will SEE Jesus! You will hug your parents, I know you've missed them as I will miss you. You have a child and grandchildren in Heaven to meet.

From your perspective your death will be a reward. From our perspective it is as painful as can be.

We cry out in anguish as you cry out in worship. Jesus went and He prepared a place for you. Where you are going we will one day be there too!

We have the hope that we aren't who we once were. We are forgiven. You are about to be fully sanctified. We still journey on.

Yes. Things will be different. There is a hole in our family that won't totally heal till we get where you are going. We weep. We grieve. We may be angry. We feel lost. Things are darker. But we know, as you know, that pain has an expiration date for those who have let Christ in.

Go. Run to your Savior. Bask in HIS beautiful holiness. Breathe the freshest air ever. Be as healthy as Heaven affords. Serve with joy the Savior you love. Your race here is ending and now its time to experience your well earned eternity.

I love you FOREVER and EVERYWHERE.

12/08/2025

If I could say some magic words and take away your cancer I would. That is God's job. And HE will. That first breath you take in Heaven... you will already be healthier than you have ever been and more alive too.

If I could hold your hand forever, just to keep you here with me I would. I can't be selfish though. Your time here is ending. It is time to let God do His thing and reward you for a life well lived for Him.

If I could go with you I would. I can't though. I still have things here to do. God's job is to be with you and God never fails. The place you are going is HIS holy home. My turn is coming, but my family and friends here still need me.

If I could hold your hand forever because I love you, I would. You will soon see the hands that held nails for us. The hands that brought us salvation will be on the Savior that welcomes you past the pearly gates. The hands that heal the sick will shake your healthy hands.

If I could tell you I love you ten thousand more times it wouldn't be enough. That is God's job and
He already demonstrated His love while He was on earth. Soon though we will have all of eternity together.

If I could... I would. So many ifs, coulds, and woulds. I can't but God can and that's even better.

I can't hold your hand forever, but I can hold it tonight. God gave us our yesterdays and our tonight. So I will hold your hand tonight.

Joyfully After All

01/23/2026

01/18/2026

01/12/2026

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01/07/2026

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12/22/2025

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