Even If

Every one of us that’s walked through the pain of a story you wouldn’t have chosen knows how much it means when people stay. When they willingly step into your mess and stand by your side. When they remember the dates and say their names and sit in silence while you cry and lead the way through the dark. When they sacrifice their own desires for your survival and needs. And as I've read the Christmas story this year through the lens of my own weakness and longing and loss, here's what I'm struck by: Joseph stayed. God will us would have been enough. But Joseph was with her too.

Nothing about a newborn baby conjures up the image of peace. Especially a newborn baby born in a stable, during a census, and leads his family to flee for their lives. But calling a baby the Prince of Peace reminds us that peace doesn't always mean that our circumstances are calm or under control. It simply means we have access to it even when they aren't. Mary carried peace in her arms, but we carry it in our spirits. No matter what external circumstance we face.

If you’re weary of waiting for things in your own life right now, Advent might seem like a backward thing to celebrate. Why would we embrace a season of waiting in our faith when we’re doing everything we can to get out of one in our own lives? Because Advent reveals to us the “suddenly” movements of God where everything changes in a moment, no matter how long you've been waiting, He's been working, and we can get our hopes up in expectation of what He can do. If you're joining our Advent challenge to posture ourselves toward hope this week, share the ways God is increasing your expectation by using #evenifpodcast on Instagram.

Thanksgiving can be hard when we're carrying grief, and we're unsure if there's enough room for gratitude also. But gratitude and grief don't cancel each other out. You can carry both at the exact same time. If the holidays are hard for you, this Thanksgiving blessing might be exactly what you need.

I've grown up loving the church my whole life. I know that hasn't been everyone's story, but I care deeply for the local church and her role in the Christian faith. But when Imogen died, we were deeply disappointed in the way the church we were attending responded. It wasn't intentional, but the framework they built with their words and their lack of reaching out to us in our grief indicated that our pain wasn't welcome, our suffering wasn't seen, and our grief had to be handled alone. I share our story here, not to shame or criticize the church we were in, but to invite you to evaluate your own church community and whether or not you're making space for people in their grief. It might be the only time they show up.

Peter and I have been actively asking God to grow our family for over a year now since Imogen was born. We know that path might look different than we've imagined or planned, so we've been asking Him to show us the next steps when it's time. I'm sharing all about where He's leading us and where we are in the process today. This episode is full of personal updates and a big announcement about what's next! Click here to learn more and donate toward our adoption expenses.

Sometimes our seasons of waiting don't produce the outcome we want, they don't result in life, or at least not the life we expected. And yet, God promises us that the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy. In your waiting, God is enlarging your expectation for everything that will be fulfilled in heaven. And He’s also increasing your capacity for joy in everything He’s giving you here on earth. What are you waiting for? Join the conversation on Instagram: @kelly.streiff

There’s undeniable value in naming your reality right now; in acknowledging the pain and accepting our grief as it comes. But there’s also value in acknowledging a reality far greater than what we see right now. Something beyond the sharp edges that don’t make any sense. Something more real than the things we can touch.Something that lasts forever, even after earth passes away. In today's episode, I'm sharing three practices I use to remind myself of what's eternal when the pain of now feels like it will last forever.

I’ve been thinking a lot about God’s presence in our pain lately. It’s a phrase I use a lot, it’s my go-to prayer when people are suffering - God, be so present in their pain, be so close to them in this season. Comfort them with your presence. Be near. But the interesting thing is that not everyone wants the same type of presence in their grief and I think that impacts how people perceive that prayer. What kind of presence am I asking for? What kind of presence can we expect from God? And what's He doing when He feels so far away?

In seasons of loss, it's easy to feel abandoned by God, or worse yet, betrayed by Him in our pain. I found myself feeling that way after we lost our second baby last year. In honor of National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, I'm telling the story of our miscarriage just a few months after Imogen died and sharing how I processed my pain.

What if preparing for the storm isn't actually about focusing on it at all? What if it isn't about training harder, gearing up stronger, pivoting faster, or exploding bigger? What if it's about rooting ourselves not only in what we need to survive, but what we need to flourish, grow, and thrive? I'm realizing that surviving the storm is a byproduct of operating in the calling and purpose for which you were created. The very things that cause you to flourish under the best of circumstances will be what help you survive the worst.

Here's the things about storms in our lives - the question was never, "will they come?" The question has always been, "will we be prepared when they do?" There are things we can do right now to build our foundation and secure our faith so that we can ride out the storms we face. I can't promise they won't do damage. In fact, chances are we'll get a little beaten up along the way. But I am absolutely confident that when our foundation is on Jesus, it will hold. Every single time. The time to prepare isn't once the storm is here...it's now. Before the forecast. Before the rain. Before the wind. Check out www.theevenifpodcast.com for notes and references in this week's episode. Follow Kelly on Instagram for all the daily updates (www.instagram.com/kelly.streiff).

We're back with our second Q&A episode answering all the questions you submitted - and this week we're talking about grief. After Imogen died, Peter and I quickly realized that we responded to our grief differently. He needed to stay occupied and I was triggered by almost everything outside our home. We're sharing how we learned to support each other, when we knew it was time for counseling, and how we agreed to always turn in. Grief isn't linear and we've by no means made it through to the other side. But it has shifted and become more of a companion than a foe. I hope our journey reminds you that grief isn't the enemy, that there's no finish line, and that you aren't alone. Follow @kelly.streiff on IG to hear more of our journey through loss.

When I put up an ask on Instagram a few weeks ago, I wasn't sure anyone would respond. But you sure did! You sent almost 100 questions and today we're answering all the ones about Imogen's birth, what happened next, how she died, and the time we spent with her. This episode is first and foremost a birth story. It's the story of us meeting our daughter for the very first time and the 24 hours we got to spend with her here. But it's also the story of her death. In stillbirth, birth and death are inextricably linked. Since you couldn't meet Imogen here on earth, we're so happy to share her with you on the podcast and so thankful to God for the gift of her life - short as it was. For more, follow Kelly on Instagram (@kelly.streiff) or send her an email at kelly@kellystreiff.com to connect.

We talk a lot about giving ourselves space and permission to grieve - permission to feel sad and angry and weary and tired. We need permission for that. But we don't talk as frequently about giving ourselves permission to laugh. To feel joy. To sing at the top of our lungs or forget for a moment what life looked like "before." So, today, I'm sharing three practices I'm using to welcome joy into my life and embrace it when it comes. Get a copy of my "permission slip" online or check out my Instagram stories to share.

In these days of COVID-19 risk and social distancing, we've become accustomed to "contactless delivery." We value exchanges that we can "leave at the door" without connection, contact, or contamination. But while that system might be a good option for our meals and groceries and mail, it’s a poor substitute for how we relate to God. Are you trying to receive the promises of God without the presence of God? His promises are fulfilled in his presence and in His presence, we find fullness of joy.

It feels powerfully defiant to look suffering in the face, to stare it down, and say, “You can’t have my voice. You can’t have my praise, my affection, my song. No matter how shaky my voice gets, it won’t ever change its tune." Worship isn't always the easy choice when we're facing suffering, grief, and pain but it is a powerful weapon in this battle we're fighting - and we're never fighting alone!

What if surrender wasn't so much opening our hands, but laying down our lives? That's the picture God's been revealing lately. Surrender isn't about picking and choosing what we offer Him when we're ready to let go, but about giving Him all we are before He asks, before He needs it, before He's ready to use it.

Denying our pain doesn't make it go away. Putting on a brave face doesn't make everything ok. And hiding it doesn't mean we're healed. It just means it's hidden. When we stuff our pain underground, it can travel for months and miles unnoticed, unchecked, & unseen - and it's doing damage the whole way. But when we name and acknowledge our pain, when we don’t shame ourselves for our suffering or sorrow, there we encounter Jesus. Who knows what it feels like to ache on full display.

We're celebrating our Imogen's first birthday and talking about the three reasons we chose to celebrate this year. And here's what I've learned: While her life was cut short, her purpose wasn't. Though she never made a sound, her life is echoing all around the world. And even though she never took a breath, God is breathing a fresh expression of hope through her life and story. If this season feels barren right now, you might just be birthing an incredible expression that no one else can produce. You can see more of our celebration and read more of her story by following me on IG: @kelly.streiff.