April 20th, 2020…That’s the last time I wrote anything in this space.
A few Sundays ago, I woke up and felt my creative energy come back to me for about the first time since I hit publish on this site over three years ago. That Sunday I saw the date of my last post and laughed; when I stop and consider how much has changed in those three years, it’s no wonder that my creativity abated throughout a long season of transition, grieving, and survival mode. If you haven’t been along for the ride on a daily basis, those three years have held:
- A global pandemic that changed everything about our lives for a long while.
- The beginning and end of a second Master’s Degree in educational leadership, which gave way to a career pivot or two (okay, four, but who’s counting..).
- The gut-wrenching closure of my beloved Denver Street School’s East Campus and the end of the bittersweet season of being its principal and “school mom”.
- My long awaited move back to the little Alaskan village of Port Alsworth that I proudly call home.
- The thought of applying to become a foster parent, the placement of a very sweet and spicy then-fifteen year old girl, and the eventual awarding of my foster care license — in that order. (Because why launch into single foster-parenting the linear or logical way?)
- Two plane crashes that rocked our little village’s world, but which everyone survived. *Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, praise the Lord!*
- News in March 2022 that my sweet girl would become a Leyba forever– later, rather than sooner though because the bureaucracy of the foster care system is b-a-n-a-n-a-s. (Three cheers for finally having an adoption date of June 27th, 2023 over a year later!)
- A lot of life and some hard to swallow deaths of beloved friends and former students.
- More mental and physical health challenges than I thought one small family of two could survive.
- The deepening of some of the sweetest relationships on planet earth.
- Settling in to our sweet little cabin in the big Alaskan woods and the stretching of roots into its rocky soil.
As exhausting as it is to look back at that list, it’s hard to know that isn’t even an exhaustive list of the last three years’ occurrences. And yet, here we are: still standing, by the grace of God, and finally feeling the clarity of thought that comes with not only surviving, but finally feeling like maybe I can thrive again. Maybe I can breathe and dream and hope– and not just in the “I seriously hope the future is better than this hellacious five minute period, or the five minute period that preceded it” kind of way.
I don’t know what capacity I’ll return to my little corner of the internet in the future, but something in me tells me that I’m not quite done here yet. So here’s to bridging the gap, stretching everything in me back towards the Light, and coming up for air this summer.
I’m glad you’re along for the journey.
xo, Kacy Lou
Louise in the Light 