Tag Archives: following God

To Everything There is a Season


Standing up for a friend and/or doing what is right can lead you down a path you didn’t expect to travel.

The author, a mutual friend, poured her heart out on the page to give the reader a glimpse of what she was feeling. When asked if I thought it was alright to remove part of a sentence in the piece…I said no. I tried to explain how important it is to leave the piece as it was written.

I felt a whirl-wind of emotions while making my way through the chain of events that happened after that meeting. After a series of emails…the piece was pulled from the program. The short list of emotions I was feeling included: disbelief, heartache, frustration, and love.

My disbelief was mixed with heartache and frustration as I tried to understand how some people could be so closed-minded that they will not listen to facts. By digging in her heals and not listening to me, she would throw away over a decade of friendship and collaboration. I also had a hard time understanding how another friend would turn into “Switzerland” so not to get involved.

I am thankful for the undercurrent of love that was flowing through me during this time. The love that gave me the strength to follow this path. Also the love for the author and for what she had written.

As God says in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, for everything, which includes everyone, there is a season.

I am sad that what I have done for 11 years…seasons…has come to an abrupt end. I know that God will lead me and guide me through my next season.

THE HEALING BRICK
By: Julia Kovach

Nervously, I approach the Angel Statue thinking I’ll have to search for my son’s recently engraved and installed paving brick, but I look down and there it is, nestled in amongst all the other little angels, his name in print, for the entire world to see.

This sight provokes something unfamiliar in me; deep in my soul, in my very core. I kneel down and through my thin grey slacks I can feel the cold, hard, roughness of the bricks on my knees.

“My knees could bleed as I pay homage”, I think, as if atoning, “Let them, I would almost be grateful.”
I touch the words, ‘MICHAEL S. KOVACH, PRECIOUS SON’.

“Oh sweetie, look at you; you’re finally here.” I whisper.

Humbly, I bend down and kiss his name. Instantly I flash back to the hospital and he is in my arms again, and now I am not feeling the cold textured brick, but am kissing his face.

I open my eyes, tears streaming.

Like a cat coughing up an unmanageable hairball, thirty years of guilt, grief, and torment begin to rise, large and ugly, from deep within and catch in my throat.

I remember when I was pregnant with him and how I didn’t watch my diet and I didn’t reduce my stress and I didn’t get enough sleep. And I remember laboring, and how I screamed, “Don’t let me die!” but I didn’t scream for the life of my own son.

“Please forgive me.” I whisper.

I hear a guttural animal groan escape from inside me; as the words allow my agony to detach itself and release.

I was like a broken bone that had healed misaligned and needed to be re-broken so that it could be set right and mend properly.

Michael’s brick has been my one quick SNAP! I am now re-broken, re-set, and relieved.

I am deeply comforted and grateful, and finally healing well

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Only By The Grace Of God

Between the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic on April 14th and the 97th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide on April 24th, I have been doing a lot of thinking.

My Grandmother, on my Dad’s side, was born April 8, 1900. In 1912, she traveled to England with her mother, to sail on the maiden voyage of the Titanic. I can only imagine the thrill and excitement they were experiencing traveling for their home in Istanbul, Turkey to Southampton, England.

Their excitement quickly ended when they found their papers were not in order and they were not allowed on board. What must have been going through their minds and their hearts when they found out what happened four days later.

Three years later, on April 24th, was the beginning of the Armenian Genocide. This time it was my Grandmother, on my Mom’s side, turn to have a brush with death. I don’t know a lot of the details on what happened to her. The little I do know sends a chill down my spine and makes my heart swell with pride.

My Grandmother along with many, many other Armenians were forced to march…to their deaths. 1,500,000 Armenians were sent on death marches, raped, beaten, starved, crucified, butchered or sent to a certain death in concentration camps.

It is almost impossible to comprehend the inconsolable terror that must have be racing through the mind of this teen age girl. My Grandmother was wounded and played dead on the side of the road. The strength she drew, to lay still and control her breathing well enough to be left for dead, could have only come from God.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13

I am so thankful and blessed to be part of these two families!

Praise the LORD! Blessed is the man who fears the LORD, Who delights greatly in His commandments. 2 His descendants will be mighty on earth; The generation of the upright will be blessed. Psalm 112:1-2

Spencer

When my son, Spencer, was in kindergarten he asked me if I knew what he wanted to be when he grew up. Since it was already past his bedtime, I figured…stall tactic. I let out a sigh and asked “What?”. His response melted my heart. He said “I want to be a pastor so I can teach people about the Bible and how important it is to have Jesus in their heart”. Wow! I had pools of “I’m so proud” tears in my eyes the rest of the night.

For graduation, his class did a program titled “When I grow up”. The teacher randomly passed out cards printed with different professions. There were three police officers, two teachers, two firemen, two doctors, two plumbers, and one pastor. Spencer got the card for pastor! He said he hadn’t told his teacher about his future plans.

Graduation came and went. (He did an awesome job) Summer vacation flew by as well and the beginning of first grade. Spencer was in the chorus for the Christmas program. During a break at one of the practices, the teacher asked the kids a question. If they were traveling with the Wise Men, what gifts would they bring for baby Jesus. Answers started flying around the room. Hot Wheels, video games, basketballs, footballs. Spencer raised his hand and said, “I would bring myself to worship Him”. Another ‘wow’ moment.

Over the years, Spencer has had many ‘wow’ moments and I have had many ‘I’m so proud’ pools. One that comes to mind happened when we were out for dinner. Spencer stopped in the middle of his meal, put down his fork, and said “You know, even if someone says they’re a Christian if they don’t have Jesus in their heart, they’re going to hell”.

This year, Spencer told me he wanted to be a doctor. I asked him why. He answered, “I seem to get sick every winter and feel terrible. I want to be a doctor so I can help people feel better”. Whether Spencer becomes a pastor or a doctor, he will make a huge difference in the lives of those he meets.

I know either way, he will be working for the Great Physician!