For me, May is a month full of mournful memories. Of difficult prayers not answered the way I had hoped.

Mom & Dad 50th anniversary 2002
- A miscarriage ending my first pregnancy May 8, 1977—Mother’s Day!
- My father’s death May 20, 2011, alone in his apartment with a hospice nurse, as my family raced there from another state, and as my mother—his wife of nearly 59 years—was transported home after an extended hospital stay in another town.
- My mother’s death May 31, 2014, four months shy of welcoming two great-grandchildren.
I’m willing to bet you have some months, holidays or seasons which remind you of prayers not answered the way you hoped.
Why, God, did I even get pregnant if the baby was never going to be born? Why couldn’t this have happened on another day besides Mother’s Day?
Why, Lord, did my Dad have to be without his family by his side? Why couldn’t he live four more hours until Mom arrived?
Why, God, couldn’t my mom’s infection have been found sooner and treated? Why couldn’t she have lived a little longer and held two precious great-grandchildren?
I’m sure you have your own “whys.”
Why this diagnosis? Why this financial struggle? Why this job loss? Why this grief?
I can honestly say that even though God didn’t give me any real answers to my questions, He did meet me in the pain.
Alone in my hospital room following the miscarriage and D&C surgery, I finally was able to cry. People telling me that I was young and would have other children had not soothed my grief.

1977 pregnant with Danielle
Don’t they realize I want the child I carried inside me for three months and already loved?
So in my despair that no one seemed to understand, I told God I needed to hear from Him.
I randomly flipped open my Bible and touched the right-hand page. (I do not normally recommend the “flip-and-point” method of scripture reading!)
My eyes fell on James 1:2-4:
Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
Reading those verses that Mother’s Day brought me a peace unlike any other time I’ve ever read them. I was still grieving my circumstances, but I knew the God of the Universe had heard my cries and was at work in my life. I could endure in His strength.
When my mother was in her last days resting peacefully in her own bed, I put a CD player on the headboard and a stack of CDs next to it—a mix of music she loved: barbershop 4-part harmony, instrumental jazz and worship tunes. I encouraged the caregivers to choose and a play a CD.
When she passed away, I walked into the room and fell to my knees sobbing by her bedside. I can honestly say it was the deepest sorrow I have known. And then I heard it:
The CD playing an old a cappella version of “In Christ Alone”–one of the songs I want at my funeral.
“My source of strength,
My source of hope
Is Christ alone.”
I had not put in that CD and honestly didn’t remember the song was on one of the discs.
But God “remembered.” He knows how much that song means to me and He supernaturally arranged to have it playing as He welcomed Mom Home.
So, my weary friend, take all your questions to your heavenly Father and then “fall in the arms of the only One Who knows the reason for every hard season.”
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Please open in your browser to hear the encouraging song Hard Season by Matthew West.




I didn’t want any kids to actually “barf,” so I had napkins to spit out yucky beans, small cups with water to rinse out mouths, and delicious gumdrops to remove any lingering aftertaste.
I wish it were that easy.
Say what???
Shortly after we moved to this area in 2015, we heard Lee Magness, a guest preacher at our new church say that he and his wife Pat had recently retired and relocated here to be near their grandchildren. I ran up to him after the service, introduced myself and asked if they wanted to join my husband and me in our brand new club:
I’m a newspaper reporter-turned-author. And I’m a passionate encourager, but always a truth-teller. I worked for nearly two decades in a unique position as a patient advocate in my oncologist’s office and the Cancer Prayer Support Group I founded in 1991 is the country’s oldest such faith-based group.