I don’t know if what I’ve been experiencing is writer’s block or if this is all part and parcel of living through a global pandemic. Juggling my daughter’s kidney transplant (which was followed by several life threatening complications), “living” at the hospital for several weeks, supporting my children in distance learning, trying to re-invent their social lives, comforting them as they mourned the loss of normalcy, scrubbing groceries, cleaning obsessively, researching the threat posed by COVID-19, scouring the news for some sign of hope, all while teaching my university courses online was no small feat. Throw in the nagging distraction of eroding social and political norms, which increased the fear and anxiety I’ve been feeling for my family, and there you have it. I could not quiet my mind long enough to write amid all that chaos and uncertainty. 

Sadly, I’m sure you can relate. 

This was a brutal year for all of us, a year marked by sadness and fear, hardship and loss. But it is my sincerest hope that we can all put these hardships in perspective by reflecting on the unique and astounding challenges we faced, on our resilience, on the kindness of others, the courage and self-sacrifice shown by essential workers, by acknowledging the faith, hope, and love that carried us through this time. Rest assured I am not giving up on my New Year’s resolution to write two books in 2020. I’m simply extending the deadline. I look forward to sharing those books with you in 2021. Until then, stay healthy, be safe, and be kind to yourself. Please, rest in this thought…

You are a gift, and that gift is enough.

COVID-19 has changed our lives in profound ways. Many of us are working from home. Some are still working outside the home, quite literally risking their lives in essential jobs. And far too many have lost their jobs. The sudden onset of this crisis and the abrupt annihilation of so many societal norms have been shocking, anxiety inducing, frustrating, and truly heartbreaking… which is why I’m checking in with you. How are you holding up? I’d really like to know. And what are you doing to make this crisis a bit more bearable for yourselves and your loved ones? I’d never ask you to share something that I myself am unwilling to share, so I’ll start, but promise me, you’ll share how you are feeling as well. We could all stand to gain a few more strategies for getting through this crisis so please consider sharing some of your strategies in the comment section below.

So, how am I holding up? Well, it’s been a mixed bag. My daughter had a kidney transplant in January. She had an adverse reaction to some of her medications, so she has no immune system at the moment. She is in that at-risk population, as are my parents, who live with us. She’s being monitored closely. Unfortunately, that monitoring requires weekly, sometimes twice weekly blood draws. In other words, we have to break our “quarantine bubble” on a regular basis. We take every precaution imaginable, but the fear and anxiety surrounding the exposure to others and the implications for my daughter are staggering. We have been unable to quarantine long enough to breathe easy, to feel like maybe, just maybe, we’re in the clear. Because we’re not. Add to this concern for my youngest daughter, whose volleyball season ended abruptly. She’s missed several training camps on top of that, so she’s worried she won’t have the skills and endurance to make the team when she enters high school in the fall. I don’t want to see her dreams squashed. And then there’s my mom. She had to leave a job she loves in order to protect my daughter and her own health. I’m worried for her as well. My brother and his wife aren’t working, and they’ve been unable to qualify for unemployment. They have bills to pay and two toddlers to provide for. I’m worried for them, and I miss them terribly. Which is crazy because they live less than a mile away. I’m also worried about my single friends, who have been isolated for far too long. I’m even more worried for all those nurses and physicians who have seen our family through so many difficult times. So, yes, I’m scared, and sad, and worried.

But I’m also extremely grateful. I’m grateful my husband and I can both work from home. I’m grateful we have such a remarkable support system. I’m grateful to those teachers who suddenly had to switch to online teaching so they could continue to educate and empower our students. I’m grateful for every person who is working in an essential job, for every person who has closed a business, for those who have sacrificed their jobs, and for every person who willingly abides by the quarantine. And I am simply in awe of all the people who are making masks; donating protective equipment, food, and money; shopping for others, and supporting businesses that have closed as best they can. I’m so deeply humbled by these heroic acts, by the selflessness that now defines our country and others. They say a person’s true character is revealed during a crisis. Well, I want you to take a good long look in the mirror and recognize just how courageous, selfless, kind, and heroic you are. I also want to thank you from the bottom of my heart because my daughter’s life is one of those lives you are saving right now.

So, as I smile and brush a grateful tear from my cheek, I want to share some of the strategies I’ve been applying to get by. First, I’ve been trying to focus on the silver linings, identifying several aloud each and every day. I’ve been praying a lot. I’ve been attending church online in my pajamas with my dog. I’ve been talking more with family and friends through video messaging, not just texting. I’ve been spending more time with my family, playing games and binge-watching Psych. I’m cuddling with my dog more. I’m walking with my husband, my daughters, and my dog. I’m feeding the squirrels who venture onto our deck. I’m keeping the birdfeeder full as well. As silly as it seems, I really enjoy their visits. We invested in a hammock, which has helped draw us all outside and provides us with an opportunity to soak in some Vitamin D and relax. I ordered some seeds from Burpee and have been growing herbs, vegetables, and flowers. I’m doing Yoga with Adriene (all of her classes are free on YouTube). I’m reading more books, mostly time travel romance. They’ve proven a wonderful escape. I’m watching the news less, taking it in in small doses so I can stay informed but not overwhelmed. I’m listening to more music. I’m eating healthier, baking more. And I’ve been seeking out ways to help those who are less fortunate. 

So tell me, how are you holding up? What sort of strategies are you applying to help make this crisis a bit more bearable? I really want to know.

I know I’m posting this a few weeks late, but I wanted to wish you all a happy and healthy new year. January always beckons a bit of reflection and some goal setting for me, so I thought I’d share where I’m at with all this, in part because it impacts my readers. First, a bit of reflection…

I fell short of my goal to publish a spin-off novel for The Broken Series in 2019. This was the first time in over five years that I didn’t release at least one book per year. It wasn’t for lack of trying. I am one-hundred and thirty-five pages into that novel, however, that project ground to a halt last July due to several medical challenges, which impacted me and my family. I suffered a back injury, my husband ruptured his Achilles, and my daughter’s kidney function declined. We faced several long stints in the hospital, dialysis, and several surgeries, one of which was a much-needed kidney transplant which took place earlier this month. I maintained my teaching load during this time {{{thank God for APUS and online universities}}}, but my writing fell by the wayside. Between the extra demands on my time and the bone crushing exhaustion I’ve been struggling with, I couldn’t write. Believe me I tried, but each time I sat down with my computer, the words on my manuscript would blur, my fingers would land on random letters in no way connected to the words running through my brain, and I’d quickly begin questioning every scene I’d written thus far.

Writing is as essential as breathing for authors. It is what we do, and it’s a big part of who we are. When days trickled into weeks and then months without writing, I felt broken, like some essential part of me was missing. It wasn’t until recently that I realized I’ve been working my way through the seven stages of grieving. Shock and denial? Check. Pain and guilt? Check. Anger and bargaining? Check. Depression? Double check. I’m still working on reconstruction, acceptance, and hope {{{hence, the goals}}}. I am confident my priorities were in the right place. A medical crisis sparks razor-sharp focus on those things that are truly important in life… your husband, your children, your health, your extended family, friendships, and faith. So, as difficult as these experiences have been, 2019 proved to be a good year for me and my family.

So, what about those goals? Well, as we rang in the new year with some very dear friends, exactly one week before my daughter’s kidney transplant, I did blurt out a rather ambitious “I’m writing two books!” when asked to share my goal. {{{See? I’m working toward reconstruction, acceptance, and hope.}}} I am picking myself back up, dusting my computer off, and cranking out some novels. Is that my only goal? Heck no. I want to go on more dates with my husband. I want to take my girls on an adventure, preferably in Europe. I am going to be there for my teenage daughter, supporting her through every blood draw, every doctor appointment, and any unexpected bumps in the road that may come with this new kidney. I will “sleep over” every night she spends in the hospital because I cherish that time with her. I’m going to attend every volleyball tournament for my youngest daughter, cheering her on, because I will not relinquish my title as her biggest fan. I’m going to make my health a priority so I can accomplish all that. And I’m going to be there for my friends when they need me, the same way they’ve been there for me.

Am I biting off more than I can chew? Perhaps. I may not accomplish each goal to perfection, but that isn’t what matters in the end. It’s the journey and all those precious experiences you’ve gained along the way. So… here’s to a happy and health-filled journey in 2020 for you and for me.