“I lost my tooth. The Lord has blessed me.”

That’s how Ann Voskamp’s daughter announced it to her:

When she’s in from the barn, she slams that back door, her hair dripping like she drowned in that shower that doused her curls and the smell of hogs, and she comes grinning and looking for me, holding out her hand.

She announces it like a heralding:

I lost my tooth. The Lord has blessed me.

In the east, the sun burns away the mist and I come to.

The Lord has blessed me.

How does she do that? How does she fill her gaping with celebrating and who sees blessing in loss and how can you just hold on to some peace and sanity and your half of the quilt even in nightmares?

You can read the rest here: “How to Handle Losses”

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