My Joy and my Heart

Last week marked three years since my mother, Karen, passed from this life to the next. I usually like to spend some time alone reflecting on where I was, what I've grown from and God's tender mercy over my life but I couldn't because I was out of state chaperoning a trip. It was a blessed time with my daughter and her friends. It definitely was not a vacation, the schedule was packed and the sleep was minimal. I missed my Mom's prayers over us. I missed her texting and being genuinely interested in all the mundane details. There are very few people in your life interested in the boring parts of it. I've been revisiting one of the last conversations I had with her. I wish I could remember all that we said but I don't. What I do remember is me telling her how grateful I was to have her. She told me she was grateful to have me too.  I'm so glad we expressed these types of things to each other. I wish I would have written more things down. I'm taking the ti...

My Dad had a very particular way of doing things. I must have inherited it from him because my Mom always told me I was very particular...in those exact words. It's been two years since my Dad's passing, and in honor of him, I write this today. He always showed me the correct way to do things: "do it this way Jam Jam."  I've dealt with sudden, unexpected loss and anticipatory loss, and I'm still working through the physical, emotional, and spiritual aspects of it all, but there are a few things I've learned. As we will all experience grief, I've committed myself to do some things differently in support of others who might be on a grief journey, knowing that it all has its particular DNA. You can do with this information what you will, but I am praying that one thing might help you help others dealing with immense loss. 1. Don't tell your grieving loved one what their person might have said to them. "Your Mom would have told you..." We hav...

I still know your number by heart. In a time of cell phones where no one actually knows anyone’s number, I still know yours. Life has given me so many reasons to want and need to call you.  Something amazing happened the other day. One of those mountaintop moments in life where you just can’t wait to call all your special people and relive the moment through a breathless retell of your story. When you finally take a breath to give your person a chance to respond they are going to be just as elated as you are because they have poured into you, they have invested in you and have toiled in prayer over your life and circumstances. Today is the birthday of one of my most special people. I couldn’t call her the other day to tell her about my mountaintop moment but I could imagine what she might say to me and that is at least something.  It’s been 3 years without being able to celebrate your birthday.  I’ve heard some people say it’s your heavenly birthday which I don’t quite ge...

  When looking through our family photos you’ll regularly find someone smiling with their mouth wide open! It’s  the Hoffmann picture pose. I’m pretty confident we got this standard Hoffmann pose from my Dad. He was the life of the party. A total jokester. When others would comment on his children’s good looks, he would say things like…”good thing they look like their mother.” I commented to him how beautiful his grandchildren were to which he replied “they all look like me!” One time when I was a kid I told him that my face hurt. I was probably laughing too much or something. He replied “well it’s killing me!” Always joking! Always laughing at himself with that big crazy smile!  He taught me that laughter really is the best medicine. Even in the most chaotic of times I will always find something to laugh about.  My Dad was a sentimental man. He still had a drawing in his office that I sent him when I was like 10 years old. It said “Rad Dad” in graffiti letters on a ...

"I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden, along with the sunshine there's gotta be a little rain sometime..." This lyric sung by Lynn Anderson (1971) was a funny thing my Mom used to say when she found her children exhibiting a complaining spirit about life in general. She would often say it when she realized she too had expectations that life was not cooperating to provide. And even though this song is being sung in the context of a relationship it bears such truth to the rest of life. I beg your pardon but suffering in this life is unavoidable.  I came across a sermon by Charles Haddon Spurgeon from 1910 titled Maroth-The Disappointed ,  that I found great comfort in.    "Who are you that everything should happen just as you wish? Should the weather be fine simply because you want it to be so when a thousand fields are gasping for rain? Should you have the channels of trade turned in your direction when, if that were the case, scores of others would b...

I’ve been humming a lot lately. People have been noticing even when I don’t notice that I am doing it. My Dad hummed. He hummed and whistled all the time. It’s very calming actually. The body's way to regulate oneself under stress or overthinking I assume. I am happy to be carrying on the tradition. It makes me feel close to my Dad who for most of my life was 300 and something miles away.  One of my last 300 mile visits up to see him he had just moved into a new house. I was helping him organize his office. He was listening to his standard western honky tonk music, singing at the top of his lungs, and drumming on his desk; a standard practice for my Dad. He really should have been a drummer.  I was having the best time just singing and laughing with him. He was sick already at the time but in that moment he let us both forget that he was. I’m so glad for that memory.  My brain has been working overtime these last couple of years so I’m thankful when I can revisit my paren...