The boy wasn’t even on my radar.

And that was fine.

The wreckage that was the last 8 years had only recently slammed into my Savior. Things still felt messy, sticky, turbulent. Daily, He taught me the beauty of conversation, of asking good questions, of holy relationship. Light overtook the dark places and chased lies from the recesses. I was in pursuit of my heart’s greatest love.

And this boy wasn’t even on my radar.


We were almost home. The river was in sight; only one more turn before I could finally get out of the car.

It was another day, another cardiology visit. They lasted longer than anyone ever intended. They were exhausting days. This thing, this crucial organ, this life-giving, pumping necessity that is so vital to survival–broken. It was made differently than those around it by a God who is Creator.

And what becomes of this heart has always been out of our jurisdiction.




I was tired, yet I knew there was something left. There was a remnant of a conversation half spoken bouncing around in my head, smothering my heart. Small talk, skirting around the words that were caught in her throat…and the last turn was coming up.

You can’t have babies, sis.

an empty okay.


Twelve years.



Then this boy.

I love him.

He is mine. He is the one I have chosen for this life. His soul is intricate, at once strong and confident while bearing astonishing sensitivity and the frailty of life. He is a warrior, battle-ready for the Kingdom; a man of great honor and integrity who values nothing so much as his Lord. He craves affection and alone-moments, stolen smiles and giggles; and he loves children.

All children seem to find an easy fascination with my beloved. They find in him a glad companion for bear hunts, an exceptional storyteller, and a gentle and ready comforter.  He would be a father to a thousand children, dreaming of orphanages in developing countries from an early age.


To be married to this great man, a man who dreams of his own quiver, is no small task for my faint heart. As his chosen helpmate, my joy would be to fulfill this basic request.

And yet, in full knowledge, he chose me.

a woman severely broken in this most desired area.


He weaves us together.

He pulls the broken pieces of my thread into the vibrancy of my beloved’s. He leans in and breathes life into the musings of our home.

We wonder at who He is that He would pair our hearts, that He would form the Freds.


He invites us into the mystery, into glimpses of the masterpiece, into relationship with the Him as the Almighty.  He encourages us to look long at Him, seeing our threads as He sees them. He asks us to contend with the gaps.

Will you, once again, allow Me to chase out the lies?

The lie that says He gives good things to whole hearts.

The lie that says this mountain defines me.

The lie that says dreams given in youth are born out of folly and are meant to be forsaken.

The lie that says His promises are given and kept based on my faithfulness and understanding.


Psalm 119:50            Psalm 18: 28-30

Psalm 38:9                Isaiah 64:4

Light in the Darkness:

The Archibald Project uses the barrage of media to usher people to the heart of God.

Claire speaks life into my Instagram feed every day, and I love her for it.


Sara continues to stretch my concept of relationship with the Almighty.