The Orthodox blogging community, at large, is both a blessed gift and a stumbling block for so many of us. It’s a two sided coin. On the one hand, we can find inspiration through the words of a myriad of Orthodox writers with a few, simple clicks of our mouse. This is an opportunity of a magnitude never before seen throughout history. We can connect with other Orthodox individuals and families across the United States or even on the other side of the world within seconds. We can support one another, share resources, and even ask questions. This is especially a blessing to those living in rural areas or in a sparsely populated Orthodox community.

A long drive is ahead of us. Audiobooks have been downloaded to our various electronic devices, and we’re ready to melt away hours of monotonous cross-country driving. My kids are all too familiar with drives lasting hours and even days. This has long been a part of our lives – partly intentional and partly just the hand we’ve been dealt. Audiobooks are not the only form of entertainment we have used to pass the time on these trips, but it is the primary form for this journey. I had planned to listen to children’s books and write lesson plans in my mind during the drive, but at the last moment, I decided to follow along with the book my daughter was starting – The Hunger Games. Once again, as in years past, it was the perfect catalyst for a discussion.

My eyes close and I take a deep breath. The baby I was lovingly carrying in my womb had passed away. I exhale…oh…so…slowly. I’m overwhelmed with sadness and retreat to the inner most cave of my thoughts. “Lord have mercy on me.” How do you cope with something of this magnitude? How do you find strength to take a step forward when all you want to do is fall to the ground in agony?

I’m in a darkened room holding the phone to my ear and sobbing as my husband helplessly listens on the other end. Unfortunately, this is not the first time he’s on the phone with me and wishing he was by my side instead. His job has him traveling often, forcing him to be supportive through the tender words of encouragement he offers me. He feels guilty. He yearns to be home - but he’s stuck planted right where his job has left him until he comes running back to us. As much as I always long for him to be home with us, he has always done a phenomenal job of helping me cope and make it to the other side in our difficult moments even if it has had to be over the phone – whether it has been for our son’s seizures in the middle of the night, problems during the foster care years, or dealing with our power outage for four days by myself with our then six kids after a wind storm.