It’s hard to believe it’s been 59 days since we’ve all been together under one roof.
When I look at this picture, I see my most treasured gifts — my kids. Each one is a story of grace, strength, and God’s faithfulness through seasons we never could’ve imagined walking.
I snapped this photo late one night, the night before Kale and I hit the road to take him to college. At first glance, it’s just a picture of siblings. But to me — it’s a timeline. A “before” and “after.” A moment that quietly whispered, “Things are about to change again.”
Have you ever just known in the moment…that moment would become a line in the sand a marker from the before to the after?
Flashbacks That Take Your Breath Away
There’s another picture that will forever be etched in my heart — a flashback from years ago. Such a sweet memory.
It was taken in the kitchen of the home where we brought each of our babies home from the hospital. That house held every memory — bringing our first home from the NICU, first steps, birthday candles, dance parties, and long talks in our kitchen.
The day we sold that home, I gathered the kids together for one last picture. They stood beneath the archway that connected the living room and kitchen standing under the words:
“As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”
That verse had been the heartbeat of our family — the anchor through the highs and lows, the laughter and tears.
When I look at that picture now, it feels eerily similar to the one I just took with them before Kale left for college. Both photos mark before and after moments in our story — times when life shifted in ways that would change us forever.
Selling that house felt like closing one chapter. Losing Q felt like losing the whole book.
But both moments remind me of this: God doesn’t just live in the easy seasons — He holds us steady through the hard ones, too.
Kale’s Journey of Sacrifice and Strength
Kale’s path has been one of incredible courage and and often times a quiet strength.
When his dad passed, everything changed. He was just beginning his college journey, playing baseball — the sport he and his dad shared countless hours around. From the backyard to the ball field, baseball was their bond. It was their rhythm, their love language.
But after Q’s death, Kale made a decision that showed me the depth of his heart. He came home.
He walked away from his college dreams to attend a local junior college, choosing to be close to family — to help his siblings navigate the loss, to help me hold things together, and to anchor himself in what mattered most- his faith and his family!
He didn’t choose comfort. He chose character.
He didn’t choose convenience. He chose compassion.
That year stretched him in ways no young man should have to endure. There were nights filled with quiet grief and days where the weight of responsibility pressed heavy. But it was also a year of growth — a year where God met him in the middle of the ache and began to shape his heart for what was next.
When God Redirects the Dream
That season brought one of the hardest decisions yet — he chose to hang up his baseball glove. I remember vividly a long hard conversation with Kale in our driveway about if it had been me that passed away and not his dad, what his dad would be encouraging him to do. He needed that talk, we both did.
Baseball wasn’t just a sport for Kale. It was a piece of his dad. Every crack of the bat, every glove pop, every coaching pep talk carried memories that now brought both pride and pain. Learning to navigate these emotions together was nearly crippling every time we walked up to the plate. So many bittersweet memories to cling to but knowing that with everything seasons come and seasons go. Saying goodbye to baseball was saying goodbye yet again to a piece of his dad he so desperately wanted to cling to.
But in that decision, I saw a young man learning to listen for God’s direction. He realized that his purpose wasn’t found in a game — it was found in his faith.
He told me, “Mom, I think it’s time for me to fly.” With tears in my eyes, I responded “You did your job, Kale. The honorable thing and if this were me, your dad would say it's time”.
And even though part of me wanted to hold on tight, I knew this was his faith step. God was calling him forward — to new ground, new people, and new growth. Who was I to stand in the way of God leading him? My emotions of wanting him to stay and feeling it was another loss for me was selfish! No matter how I felt, God had an amazing plan for my son and I refused to let my emotions stand in the way.
I just didn't realize it would be a thousand miles away! Woah!!
Heading to GCU: A New Chapter
Now, Kale is stepping into his next season at Grand Canyon University in Phoenix.
It’s far from home — and far from everything familiar — but I know this is exactly where he’s meant to be. It’s his time to spread his wings, to discover who he is outside of the shadows of grief and familiarity, and to walk boldly in faith. I truly believe God has called him there.
And if his dad could see him now, I know he’d be bursting with pride.
He’d see a son who gave up his own plans to take care of his family.
A son who walked through heartbreak with integrity.
A son who sought God’s will above his own.
He’d see a man molded by hardship, yet strengthened by hope.
I can almost hear Q’s voice saying, “Get After it Son.” as in a way to say “That's my boy”
Because it’s true — Kale carries so much of his dad in him. The way he leads without apology. The way he protects his sisters. Walks with his brother. The way he loves deeply but humbly.
I was honored to ride alongside Kale taking him and moving him in to GCU and what an adventure it was! I can just see Q beaming with pride seeing all the challenges we took on along they way, carrying old memories with us and making sure to take advantage of all the stops along the way. You can read more about that ADVENTURE here.
A Mama’s Prayer in the In-Between
The night before our road trip to Phoenix, I gathered the kids together again.
We circled up — just like we’ve done through so many chapters — and I prayed.
I started with gratitude of the seasons of past. If I am being honest, this was hard. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful but it was because I wanted that time back. It seemed like it all slipped through my finger tips as I was holding sand..the harder I held it the quicker it fell.
I prayed over Kale, asking God to go before him, to open doors no man can shut, and to give him courage for this next season. I thanked God for his heart, for his strength, and for the man he’s becoming.
And then I prayed over all four of my kids — that their bond would never be broken by distance, that they would always choose each other, and that no matter what life brings, they would stay anchored in faith and family.
Because that’s what Q always said: “At the end of the day, family takes care of family.”
And that’s what we live by and will continue to live by as we carry the legacy of my amazing husband and father Q!
Learning to Let Go Through the Seasons
Sometimes life is made up of a series of goodbyes — from selling the home that built your memories, to saying goodbye to the person who helped you build it, to watching your kids step into their own chapters.
Each one hurts in its own way.
Each one marks a “before” and “after.”
And each one reminds us that God’s hand is steady through it all.
As moms, we spend years holding on — to moments, to memories, to people. But faith asks us to open our hands. To trust that what we’ve poured into our children, God will continue to water in the seasons ahead.
Letting go doesn’t mean we stop loving — it means we start trusting.
Choosing Faith in the Shift
If you’re walking through a season of letting go — whether it’s your child leaving home, a dream changing, or a loss you’re still learning to live with — I see you.
And I want you to know this:
God is still good.
Even when life changes, His faithfulness doesn’t.
Even when your heart breaks, His hands hold every piece.
So I’m learning — again — to thank Him for every season:
For the home that built us.
For the man who greatly loved us.
For the son who’s finding his way.
And for the God who never leaves us.
Because as for me and my house — in every season, in every change, in every before and after —
we will serve the Lord. ❤️
Much Love- Lori
Do you have a season that has defined you? A physical loss, a loss of a hope or dream? I would love to hear it below. Every comment here on my blog I cherish. I read them all and love to hear how you are overcoming and taking steps of faith to move forward in those before and after or even those “in-between” seasons.
My hope to help you stay encouraged through the darkest of seasons to stay ROOTED IN HIM ✝️💗
Lori, yes, your life has changed dramatically. You are a great Mom, Q is still influencing you from above. The kids know this also. You were a great “team” with our God leading you!
Soul Notes posted it originally!
This prayer is for the quiet ache that comes with loss — not just the loss of people, but of seasons, dreams, and versions of yourself that no longer exist. It’s for the moments when your heart feels weighed down by what used to be, and you find yourself holding both love and longing at the same time. This prayer isn’t about pretending you’re not sad — it’s about finding light in the sadness, about letting gratitude rise gently through the grief.
Loss changes you. It softens you, humbles you, and slows you down in ways you never expected. It reminds you that nothing here lasts forever — not pain, not joy, not even life as you know it. But even in that truth, there is beauty. Because the things that leave still leave behind something: meaning. The love that shaped you. The lessons that steadied you. The memories that remind you of how full your heart once was. Gratitude doesn’t erase grief — it gives it purpose. It says, I may miss what’s gone, but I’m thankful I got to have it at all.
When you whisper, Dear God, when my heart feels heavy with what’s gone, let gratitude lighten it, you’re asking for divine perspective — for eyes that can see blessing beside the brokenness. You’re saying, Help me shift my focus from what I’ve lost to what remains. Help me see the good that was, without being crushed by the fact that it’s over. Because sometimes gratitude is the only way to honor what you can’t hold anymore.
There will be days when gratitude feels impossible — when the hurt still overshadows the beauty. That’s okay. Gratitude isn’t always loud or easy; sometimes it’s a whisper in the middle of tears: Thank You, God, for letting me love this deeply. It’s not denial — it’s transformation. It turns the weight of what’s gone into the warmth of what was given.
This prayer is also a reminder that gratitude is not just an emotion; it’s a healing posture. It’s the act of opening your hands again, even after they’ve known loss. It’s saying, God, even though some things have left, I trust You to fill the empty places with new grace.
So when your heart aches for what’s behind you, pause and pray:
Dear God, when my heart feels heavy with what’s gone, let gratitude lighten it.
Let thankfulness rise where sorrow sits.
Let memories bring warmth instead of pain.
And let Your peace remind me that endings aren’t emptiness — they’re evidence of love that once lived fully.
Because grief and gratitude can coexist.
And even when your heart breaks for what’s gone,
it can still bow in thanks for what was. 🤍
My daughter shared this post a few days ago and I shared it on your messenger! She has a daughter that just graduated from college and is working in New Jersey, a son that is a Junior at A&M studying biochemical engineering and a senior in high school that will be going to college next year! This touched her mama’s heart big time!
I am so sorry, it has been a long day! The original post was soulful words not soul notes!