It’s been a year today.
December 12, 2014, we pulled into Denver during rush hour. They waited forever for us to arrive — the precious smattering of church family and other sweet friends who helped us unload our moving truck into our apartment. It was dark, our kids were strung out, and our friends carried load after load after load from the parking lot, up the sidewalk, and into our new, much, much smaller space.
Little did we know what the next year would hold for our family.
2014 was hard in its own right. Broken friendships. Grief. Anxiety and trauma like I’d never experienced before. A house that took just shy of a full year to sell.
2015, though? It’s been its own version of hard. Watching Isaac suffer from more intense anxiety than I’ve ever seen anyone experience, discovering the reality of his special needs, navigating the day-to-day pull-your-hair-out frustration and heartache that come with the territory for him… it’s
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