Unfinished Stories:: Kristen Strong

by Kristen StrongJune 25, 2013

IMG_5506

It started out innocently enough, a simple browsing trip to Barnes & Noble where my ten year old could also pick up her summer reading journal sheet.

Faith, her brothers, and I wind our way through our city towards the bookstore. Even as I intentionally turn on Rangewood instead of Lexington – one street further away from the gymnastics center – Faith isn’t  fooled. Sure enough, she knows right where we are and asks with a sigh,

“Mama? Isn’t this the way to gymnastics?”

I reply “Well, it’s one way there.” I glance into the rear view mirror and see her turn towards the window.

It’s been quite the road for our Faith, from a broken neck and surgery in 2011, recovery in 2012, and learning to be peaceful with the loss of a dream still today.

She is learning, just like all of us, that sometimes giving up is the right thing to do. But even when strong winds slam a door shut  and you are clearly sent in a new direction, your heart is sometimes slow to get the message.

Faith still misses gymnastics, but she’s not crying anymore. Progress is progress, but that doesn’t mean little reminders – like driving past the gym – don’t sting a bit.

We tell her it’s okay to feel that way.

After all, God isn’t shocked or let down by our humanity. He is patient and compassionate as we keep on keepin’ on. When it comes to loss, time doesn’t heal all wounds, time with the Healer does. In countless ways He showers us with grace throughout the hard middle, and in that His timing heals all wounds. If we keep our hands open – even when it’s dark and dreary and a white-knuckled fight – we will see how releasing our hopes cannot compare to what we find when we grasp His Hope.

Because while there’s more than one way to a dream, He knows the best way there.

I park the car in the Barnes & Noble parking lot and look at Faith again through the rear view mirror. She smiles as she unbuckles her seatbelt.

“Ready to go in, peeps?” she asks, bright smile warming her face.

“Yup!” I say. “All ready!”

I’m ready to see what we find inside.

I’m ready to see how the Author faithfully unfolds the pages of her unfathomably beautiful story…

[ts_fab]

11 Comments

  1. A Story Unfinished on June 25, 2013 at 8:44 am

    […] I’m sharing the rest here. Read […]

  2. KristinHillTaylor on June 25, 2013 at 8:54 am

    Beautiful words here, Kristen! Thanks for reminding me the story is always being written.

    • KristenStrong on June 25, 2013 at 9:07 am

      Thank you, dear Kristin.

  3. Lisa-Jo Baker on June 25, 2013 at 8:57 am

    Oh I love learning these lessons from you and your Faith

    • KristenStrong on June 25, 2013 at 9:08 am

      Love you so much, friend.

  4. matt mooney on June 25, 2013 at 9:00 am

    what a beautiful take from a mother on her daughter. thank you for your words. I can see the love you have for her in just these few words.

    • KristenStrong on June 25, 2013 at 9:11 am

      Thank you so much for welcoming me to this special place, Matt, and thank you for faithfully and skillfully telling the story of your precious Eliot. May all those who hear it continue to be in awe of God’s grace and truth.

  5. Bev Duncan on June 25, 2013 at 12:42 pm

    Thanks, Kristen, for the reminder that it is time with the Healer that we need when one door closes…true indeed! Thanks for sharing from your heart…
    Love and blessings,
    Bev

  6. Mary Bonner on June 25, 2013 at 2:37 pm

    we all have something unfinished, don’t we? this is lovely Kristen. thank you for sharing it with all of us!

  7. Amy Tilson on June 25, 2013 at 5:51 pm

    Thank you for sharing this beautiful example of answering a child and leading them through disappointment to their future. This is powerful medicine here, lady.

  8. lhamer on June 25, 2013 at 6:36 pm

    What an awful thing to have to go through at her age. There is certainly learning in her position. Thanks for sharing her story.

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IMG_5506

It started out innocently enough, a simple browsing trip to Barnes & Noble where my ten year old could also pick up her summer reading journal sheet.

Faith, her brothers, and I wind our way through our city towards the bookstore. Even as I intentionally turn on Rangewood instead of Lexington – one street further away from the gymnastics center – Faith isn’t  fooled. Sure enough, she knows right where we are and asks with a sigh,

“Mama? Isn’t this the way to gymnastics?”

I reply “Well, it’s one way there.” I glance into the rear view mirror and see her turn towards the window.

It’s been quite the road for our Faith, from a broken neck and surgery in 2011, recovery in 2012, and learning to be peaceful with the loss of a dream still today.

She is learning, just like all of us, that sometimes giving up is the right thing to do. But even when strong winds slam a door shut  and you are clearly sent in a new direction, your heart is sometimes slow to get the message.

Faith still misses gymnastics, but she’s not crying anymore. Progress is progress, but that doesn’t mean little reminders – like driving past the gym – don’t sting a bit.

We tell her it’s okay to feel that way.

After all, God isn’t shocked or let down by our humanity. He is patient and compassionate as we keep on keepin’ on. When it comes to loss, time doesn’t heal all wounds, time with the Healer does. In countless ways He showers us with grace throughout the hard middle, and in that His timing heals all wounds. If we keep our hands open – even when it’s dark and dreary and a white-knuckled fight – we will see how releasing our hopes cannot compare to what we find when we grasp His Hope.

Because while there’s more than one way to a dream, He knows the best way there.

I park the car in the Barnes & Noble parking lot and look at Faith again through the rear view mirror. She smiles as she unbuckles her seatbelt.

“Ready to go in, peeps?” she asks, bright smile warming her face.

“Yup!” I say. “All ready!”

I’m ready to see what we find inside.

I’m ready to see how the Author faithfully unfolds the pages of her unfathomably beautiful story…

[ts_fab]

11 Comments

  1. A Story Unfinished on June 25, 2013 at 8:44 am

    […] I’m sharing the rest here. Read […]

  2. KristinHillTaylor on June 25, 2013 at 8:54 am

    Beautiful words here, Kristen! Thanks for reminding me the story is always being written.

    • KristenStrong on June 25, 2013 at 9:07 am

      Thank you, dear Kristin.

  3. Lisa-Jo Baker on June 25, 2013 at 8:57 am

    Oh I love learning these lessons from you and your Faith

    • KristenStrong on June 25, 2013 at 9:08 am

      Love you so much, friend.

  4. matt mooney on June 25, 2013 at 9:00 am

    what a beautiful take from a mother on her daughter. thank you for your words. I can see the love you have for her in just these few words.

    • KristenStrong on June 25, 2013 at 9:11 am

      Thank you so much for welcoming me to this special place, Matt, and thank you for faithfully and skillfully telling the story of your precious Eliot. May all those who hear it continue to be in awe of God’s grace and truth.

  5. Bev Duncan on June 25, 2013 at 12:42 pm

    Thanks, Kristen, for the reminder that it is time with the Healer that we need when one door closes…true indeed! Thanks for sharing from your heart…
    Love and blessings,
    Bev

  6. Mary Bonner on June 25, 2013 at 2:37 pm

    we all have something unfinished, don’t we? this is lovely Kristen. thank you for sharing it with all of us!

  7. Amy Tilson on June 25, 2013 at 5:51 pm

    Thank you for sharing this beautiful example of answering a child and leading them through disappointment to their future. This is powerful medicine here, lady.

  8. lhamer on June 25, 2013 at 6:36 pm

    What an awful thing to have to go through at her age. There is certainly learning in her position. Thanks for sharing her story.

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