Blog Category: “our writing”

the right beginning to an ending

By The Murphys,

steve and i always wanted to write a book. we just didn’t know what the ending would be. and we didn’t know what the ending of our blog would be, either.

that was ten years ago, nearly to the day from when we started. we wrote to keep the updates that fueled the prayers and begging for Jesus to not let him die.

then our words became a means of sharing what his broken body was showing us about Jesus’ broken body. updates on healing and surgeries and what we needed to believe in order to keep going.

and then steve left us and our words became mine and i didn’t know God like he did. and the gaps in our hearts that started with ian grew deeper and so did our need for heaven, and prayer, and the strange connectedness that words written online created.

then we were married under the big tree next to 14 people that would carry us and in front of 150 that would remind us of why we said yes. my words turned back into our words as we figured out how the heck to do marriage and grief and watch other lives move so much faster than ours ever could.

then videos started and publishers found us and soon work i had wanted to do since i was a little girl was sitting on our lap. we put our words to a book and believed enough about God to believe it would be worth it. we shared our words at events and churches and small groups and somehow ended up in a film that allowed us to share Jesus to the world and put us on national talk shows and cable channels.

and it was worth it. and it always will be.

but then the words started coming less easily and the requests to share our words out loud weren’t coming but my career was and talk of babies was.

and then the cost of the words started to seem like a little too much after giving ten years of our hearts to strangers. the vulnerability and the comments we’d hear and the risks weren’t being outweighed by confirmation from Him anymore.

and that became ok.

because the new beginning of raising our son that we’ll bring into the world  in a few short months isn’t something we want to share in our words. and for now, that local church and family is where we want to be.

the 14 that stood with us, as many as they could, met us in the mountains on 9/30, ten years since the 9/30 we wish hadn’t happened. and that’s where we will keep being. living out the rest of our story, for now, not online but in rooms filled with the faces we get to live life with.

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we’ve made it this far because of prayer and the local church and the church at large and because of every single plea made on our behalf. until we can hug each of you around the neck in heaven, the three of us give our love and gratitude, always.

love

L

 

  Filed under: "a disabled life", "community", "marriage", "our writing", Uncategorized
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tables of christmas

By The Murphys,

image

 

sometimes we have chances to see the big picture.

last weekend was one of those times, as we found ourselves on planes to indianapolis. and we got to experience God’s love through people who had just before been strangers.

like the sweet life pictured above, who was brought to tears at seeing us, because she knows how hard life can be, but she also knows how good God is.

or like the young mom who dedicated her table to us, because changes in her health now mean doctors talk about wheelchairs in her future. she’s seeing now through ian’s life that God doesn’t leave when our abilities do and through the words in our book she’s given hope that she will not be led into her future in fear.

it was a weekend where i timidly stood on stage in front of a crowd  with 300 unique stories of seeing God’s love in the messiness. we sat at a table after, markers ready to sign the pages that contain our heart, he making his “x” with a smile each time, and heard story after story of how God used those weak words.

it was a weekend well spent, and spent in ways that we hope to do so many more times in the future, because our lives and our story are so much bigger.

 

image

  Filed under: "a disabled life", "our writing"
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invest

By admin,

 this weekend was for flying south, far away from the below zero temps and white flakes.

to reward the work of writing 75,000 words

 and to invest in our marriage all that this coming year may drain from it.

and peace and rest met us, an answer to many prayers, and in the ways we wouldn’t have thought possible.
and his dad might not have ever imagined we could have done it.
but we did. because God has done much.

  Filed under: "a disabled life", "marriage", "our writing", gratefulness
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showers, weddings and babies

By admin,

last week we welcomed our newest nephew into the world and were again reminded of just how intricately God works.

life has been full with showers and weddings and that little thing called a manuscript that’s due terrifyingly soon.

with that and our vacation coming up next week, the blog will be silent for awhile. we’re hoping to plow through the remaining work on our book with a goal of august being for relaxing, so you may not hear from us until then.

we’re not taking the ramp on vacation this year to get into the house – a huge step for us. pray that God would keep ian healthy on vacation and that he would have lots of strength especially with walking up and down the stairs.

thank you, always.
i&l

  Filed under: "family", "our writing"
  Comments: 10

snippet

By admin,

today is a writing day, a coffee shop and itunes my company. i came across this portion that i’ve written and thought about how truly quickly ian’s definition to the world changed. where i end though is on hope – hope that this is not all that Ian will know.

“With my eyes closed and the song ending, I felt a hand on my shoulder and a whisper in my left ear.

‘Steve just called,’ Mary said. ‘Ian’s been in an accident. He’s in a Pittsburgh hospital. We need to leave.’

With those words, life shifted. With those words, my role in Mary’s life, in Ian’s life, in my family, warped. With those words, Ian was removed from a body that the world would call normal and was given a new label, a label what would change everything.

I would give anything to take those words back, those breaths back, to shove them up into a tight ball, seal them with tape and glue and cement to make sure that they never opened back up. Those words Mary told me and that moment and that millisecond in his car that he was distracted meant that for the rest of our lives, we would grieve. They meant that Ian would be lost.”

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how i’m fighting for joy

By admin,


particularly in this season, our daily battle to believe and know that truth always conquers is a deeper and longer battle than usual. and so i’m trying to teach myself and pray for ways to fight for joy and mental clarity and hope. below is my list so far – of which all are underlined and supported by and kept in by grace.
marriage gratitude journal – a little journal, sent to me by a sweet blog reader, devoted solely to capturing the gratefulnesses i have in ian and him as my husband
exercise – to clear and empty my brain and keep me healthy to serve ian
date nights – wednesdays are reserved. and in a few weeks, after our first deadline, we’re taking a week to devote solely to dates. no writing.
prayer – growing in my commitment. fasting on wednesdays. spending time thinking about and praying for something/someone other than myself
sleep – a time to escape
thank you for praying for our writing and our marriage.

  Filed under: "marriage", "our writing", gratefulness
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excerpt

By admin,

here’s another post from ian’s old blog that we found recently. he wrote this eight days before his accident.

Excerpt from “Recovering Double Agent” page 57


She told him the last time she
had been in the city was on business, but because of the nature of it
she couldn’t tell him the details of her mission. From inside the raised
apartment flat he saw her through the sliding screen doors, standing,
facing the edge of the balcony. The moonlight cast a streak of light
across the top of her shoulders and dark hair. He stood with the two
glasses of wine in his hands and let her wait and hunt for shooting
stars. He didn’t want to interrupt her. She was filled to the brim with
secrets. The things she kept left a separation between the two of them.
From that distance he couldn’t think of a single thing he would change.
He didn’t want to move forward, she always looked so beautiful standing
aloof. A life she led previous to this one was something he would never
be able to know. Sometimes he would catch her in the right light and
would admire her for who she was at that moment in time. But, as he
approached, the closer he got, the more he became aware that she would
never be completely his. Questions he had that he was afraid to ask,
like, “Where were you the last time you saw the moon glow such an
amazing shade of orange?”. The chances were she would be able to answer,
but then she would most likely have to kill him.

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timid

By admin,

it’s been easier to not deal with it, to just push it into the depth of a memory and let it suffocate from my task list at work, my paperwork to get ian’s caregivers switched to a new company, anything that doesn’t mean investing emotions. but now i’m faced with diving back in, pushing myself to remember the smells and sounds and textures of raw loss. as i retrace our lives and story to push forward on the manuscript, my heart is trying to get me to stop. my mind is only letting me go so far into the memory before pushing panic, and self preservation.
i can’t be afraid of what’s inside of me, what monster of grief sits in there. it’s more comfortable here on this side of it, the loss familiar and usual, though still unwelcome. but back there, back in the ICU and back in the bedroom that i shared with lydia and back in the mangled station wagon, the grief hasn’t aged. it’s new and it’s exposed. i can’t be afraid but it’s terrifying. i feel my thoughts lurch when they get too close, when they come too near to standing next to the hospital bed and brain surgery drainage tube.
please pray for me, for us, that somehow god would make these hands move on the keyboard and words form in my mind to tell this story at even a fraction of the weight that it’s worth.
so, so thankful that he’s bigger than me
larissa

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fake and found

By admin,

we recently found an old blog that ian had started in 2005. it’s filled with fake excerpts from books, short stories from ian that are incredible to read and hilarious and prove, once again, that he is a much better writer than me.

Excerpt from the book “Raising Tide Of Worry Or Doubt”
‘”Have you ever had anything published?”, She asked as she twirled her finger in her artificially red hair. A look of boredom permeated the young, swart faced writer’s body language, “Yeah, I have. I just finished my second fiction novel.” Enthralled with the subject of conversation, she asked what the hardest part of “making a novel” was. He responded, while pointlessly fiddling with the decorative cloth napkin on the table, that he felt that dialogue was the most difficult part of writing a novel. He explained that he thought that adjectives unfortunately seemed to be going the way of the dinosaur when it came to young people’s every day conversation. “That is like, so true. I’m like…ugh, so true. You have so much like, you know, true stuff to say.” This was the first thing his date had said all night that he had agreed with.’

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