I had a precious moment with my husband.

I came back from tending to my father, as we put him into hospice. I've spoken about this earlier. Jim and I were talking about whether he could make the funeral or not.

Some of you may remember, he's experiencing fourth stage cancer right now, and the body is very weak. Jim's spirit is strong, but his body is weak.

So I walked in, and Jim had needed some attention; I needed to work with him, give him some energy, minister him, and clean him up a little bit. After that was all over and we had him back in the bed, we were talking about if he was going to be well enough to go to daddy's funeral. We both realized that he was not, in fact, strong enough to make the trip to Illinois by two planes and all the travel.

As the reality of that moment sunk in, I experienced sadness. I know, I've spoken into sadness before, and that's the word that comes to me. Now, it was much more complex than that. This realization that I was soon...

I had an experience the last two weeks that I want to share with you, because I have learned so much about emotions--the layers, the complexity, and the depth of emotion from this experience, and I get to share it because it is my hope that this will support you in your life.

My father is 90 years old; he's lived a magnificent, joyful, productive life of service and goodness. He is at the end of his life, and we put him on hospice.

Two weeks ago, I flew up to Illinois where my mother lives to support her in this effort. We brought daddy home, and we were able to take care of him there in these final weeks and months of his life.

Once I got past the the work part of that--the physicality, getting everything moved, getting the hospice set up, the nurses, etc. I allowed myself to have a moment.

I went upstairs to my childhood bedroom, and sat on my bed. A dear friend of mine texted me and said, "How are you?". She knew what was happening to me. I texted back one...