Bruising Seasons, A Life Overseas

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Bruising Seasons, A Life Overseas

Today I’m writing about the bruised reed at A Life Overseas. About grief and loss and the things I’ve put my own parents through by taking their grandchildren to Africa. About hope and comfort and finding strength.


Here’s an excerpt from Bruising Seasons

I stand at the entrance to the airport with my arm around her. Four of our children slide backpacks and trunks through scanners, turn for a last wave goodbye. One, for the last time. He’s graduating from their boarding school this year. Mine won’t get that old, will they? I counted, on the drive to the airport. We do this three times a year. We have five more years of school. That makes fifteen times.

Fifteen times I will drive to the airport with my forehead pressed against the glass. Fifteen times I will try not to lose my temper all morning because that’s how I feel about people I love leaving. Fifteen times we will make double batches of peanut butter chocolate chunk cookies and cram extra toothbrushes into carry-on bags and remind them to call home on Sunday.

Her shoulders shake and she lists off the things in his trunk. The old medals and the school projects. Special toys and gifts from friends. Photographs and volcanic rock and broken pieces of coral. It’s a list of a life lived well and stretched out and moving beyond. The next time she sees him, he will wear a graduation robe and an Honor’s medallion. One more miracle. Like the time one child survived licking bleach on a challenge from his brothers. Like the time another child fell from the roof and walked away with a bruise. Like the time another whispered he was ready for Jesus.

Read more Bruising Seasons.


  1. Esther Aspling May 21, 2013 at 12:52 pm - Reply

    Beautiful! I’ve not been bruised like that, and yet I know I will be at some point.

    • Rachel Pieh Jones May 21, 2013 at 2:33 pm - Reply

      Thanks Esther. When/if it comes, may you hear those promises and lean hard into them.

  2. […] I want to apologize to you, for causing this pain. Sometimes I want to apologize for not sending enough updates on the kids or Skyping often enough, […]

  3. […] She writes, “I wish someone would acknowledge that pain of what He is asking. Just once, I wish someone would give me a hug and say, ‘I understand. It’s okay to say that the right thing to do hurts. Go ahead and cry.'” […]

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