Ellen Rosenberger

I used to think I wasn't creative. Probably because I thought you had to be an artist in order to be considered creative. Now, almost eight years into being a mom, I've realized that yes, yes I am creative. In fact, creativity, I've come to believe, is a necessity for the sane mama's tool kit. Creativity along with a sense of humor and a deep, resilient, on-your-knees prayerful faith. Why is creativity so important? Well, because life. And because kids. All different kids with every manner of personality and learning style and mood on any given day. Creativity gives you options and creativity can actually give you joy in the mundane. I don't think any other child has helped grow my creativity more than my third. My wild child: Lucy Katherine. She lives on her own planet. One that is filled with dreams and adventures and fun. If I thought I wasn't creative before she was born I certainly don't think so now. I have to be! And yet at the same time she can a...

There’s been a slow steady drizzle all day. Like tears streaming down from heaven. Dreary and grey outside. Similar inside for many of us as well. The events of the school shooting yesterday are sadly not new for this area but the trauma, fear, and sadness are felt afresh. I can only attempt to put into words the emotions that a mama’s heart experiences at the news that a school has an active shooter in it. Ten short minutes away. A school where some of my dear church families send their kids. Lord, help us. And then the news that my own kids’ school was placed on lock-out. These are kids. Innocent kids. Who just went to school on a normal Tuesday. And this happening so soon after all the fear caused by hundreds of school closings during a manhunt a few weeks ago. It really was more than a mama’s heart could handle. But my mind went to the mamas and teachers and friends and family members of the students going through this unspeakable ordeal. My prayers fueled by empathy and sad...

Slowing The Goodbye The clock keeps ticking The days keep going How will we say goodbye? Can it be slow? Can it be meaningful, intentional? Or will it be fast? Will it be stressful and abrupt? How do you say goodbye to a place? To a time in your life of struggle and growth? Where each year has been different? It seems impossible to process it all. Can I slow the goodbye? Here I can. I can remember. I can say thanks. I can wonder. And I can embrace the past With all its nostalgia And look toward an uncertain future With all its promise and charm. Here I slow the goodbye. I take time to remember friends gone, Moments of triumph, moments of pain, Stress and joy, adventure and struggle. How could three years pass so quickly Yet hold so many poignant memories? My calendar says there's no time to reflect. But here I slow the goodbye.

This month started with death and that theme has continued throughout. We awoke on September first to a message that our brother-in-law’s sister had taken her life. And just like that our hearts sank to the floor. The pain and heartache and shock and anger her family was feeling seemed to physically weigh on our shoulders as we prayed without ceasing. Crying out to God for mercy and comfort and peace for this broken and hurting family. As we processed death and what’s more, suicide, our spirits were heavy. Our minds were constantly thinking of our loved ones walking this road of grief. Saying goodbye to a beloved sister in no way, shape or form anyone ever imagined they would have to. Then, the next day we heard word from a family in our church that their son, Joshua, was put on hospice care. This family, so hospitable, caring, loving, and giving - now facing the imminent death of their beloved son. His sister is in our young adult’s group and is so very close to him. Our kids got ...

As my Facebook news feed continues to fill up with more and more shares about the chaos unfolding in Nicaragua right now as I type, my heart is saddened. And burdened. With each new link spelling out more bloodshed and unrest and violence, the beats of my heart quicken. Is this really happening? I’m not there so I’m not experiencing it first hand. But the pictures and the videos horrify me. Fires and gunshots and screams and looting. Anger over injustice. Rage at corruption. And I feel it within me sitting here in a quiet library miles away. The silence here is peaceful and yet I know that peace is not a place. It’s a Person. Jesus. The only peace-giver and peace-sustainer. My heart cries out with the people of Nicaragua. Sadness over senseless bloodshed and mass chaos. Worry and fear over what will develop in the next hours and days in a country ruled by power-hungry and resource-confiscating leaders. What solution will come? What will calm the unrest? Our family moved aw...

I'm thinking about life today. My daughter, Elizabeth Kate, turned one yesterday. She's my fourth. Another milestone birthday come and gone. How does it happen? How does a tiny newborn grow into a tooth-showing, giggly, crawling one year old? Somehow it feels like the time flies even faster with each kid.  I remember waking up on the morning of my eldest's first birthday. All of the sudden my baby didn't feel like a baby anymore and I tried to hold back tears. But then I remind myself that though that first year seems to go by so fast, there were long nights, those times when I'd hear a little cry in the dead of night - time to feed again. Yes, we did have long stretches of exhaustion mingled with joy so real it hurt - giggles and tickles and laughter and smiles.  On my daughter's birthday yesterday I couldn't help but think about how this day of celebration would be starkly different had she not made it to one year. How would our day have been spent ...