Friday's w/ Dan #11

This week’s episode sits in that space where heaviness and hope overlap. I talk about the unexpected losses that hit close to home, the people who shaped me, and the reminders of how quickly life can change. But I also share the light that broke through — my novella moving into the editing stage, and the good news I learned about my second cousin’s acceptance to UW–Green Bay.

We close with Psalm 30:5 and a prayer for everyone carrying something heavy right now. It’s an episode about grief, gratitude, and the small joys that still find their way in.

https://podmatch.com/hostdetailpreview/1768323039635344d43bab5cf

https://open.spotify.com/show/2ZHWgVJf5Dadq6c1jHFrNC?si=34203254b3c54fa6

Transcript

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Alright everyone, welcome back to Fridays with Dan. I'm so glad you're here today. It's been a bit of a heavy week on my end. One of those weeks where life reminds you how fragile everything is. There's been some loss in the family, some unexpected news, and just a lot of emotions moving in different directions. Even in the middle of all of that, there were these small, stubborn moments of light, a little good news for someone in the family. And on my side, my novella officially moved into the editing phase, which brought me more joy than I could have ever expected. So today's theme is simple: finding light in a heavy week. Because sometimes the good and the hard show up at the same time. And maybe the best we can do is to just notice both. So this week started with some very tough news. I found out that a former coworker of mine, Brenda Anson, passed away unexpectedly. And that one hit me harder than I expected. Brenda worked at the United Way of the Midlands for, I don't know, close to 40 years, maybe 100, I'm not sure. She was always there. She was one of the first people who ever taught me about nonprofit accounting. And if you have ever worked in that world, you know it's a different beast. But Brenda, she was a whiz, especially with our revenue software. I mean, literally anything you had a question on, she knew the answer. And she always was willing to help. Always. She had this super dry sense of humor that I always appreciated. The kind of humor where she'd say something under her breath and you'd catch it a second later and just lose it. So when I got the news that she had passed, it stopped me. It reminded me how quickly things can change, how fragile life is, and how the people who shape us, even in small ways, leave a mark we don't always realize until they're gone. But I tell myself it's okay. She's in a better place now, and I'm grateful I've got to learn from her, laugh with her, and carry a little bit of her wisdom into the work I still do today. So on that same note, there was another loss connected to my United Way of the Midlands family. Not something that happened this week, but something I only learned about this week. My former coworker Stacy lost her father, Chris Arnt, a couple of months ago. I didn't work with Stacy for very long, but she was one of those people who stepped up. Even when she was still learning, even when she wasn't totally sure what she was doing, but she always showed up. She was willing to jump in, willing to help, and willing to figure things out alongside you. And she was always open. I mean, you could talk about work, you could talk about life, and she'd always meet you right where you were. Everything was on the table with her. So when I heard the news, even though the loss itself wasn't recent, it still hit me hard. It smart breaking, and it reminded me that grief doesn't follow a schedule. Sometimes you feel it in the moment it happens, and sometimes you feel it in the moment you finally hear about. it feels good. It feels good to have something creative moving forward. It feels good to see a project that started as a little idea in my head in the middle of the night become something real enough that someone else is helping me polish it. And in a week like this, that meant something. It reminded me that even when life feels heavy, there are still these moments where you get to say, hey, something good is happening too. So yeah, that brought me a little bit of joy, and I'm gonna hold on to that. And another bright spot this week came from my family. My second cousin has been going through a really tough stretch lately, uh, dealing with some anxiety and some struggles. I won't get into any details, but uh this week I learned she was accepted into the University of Wisconsin Green Bay. I don't know exactly when she got the news, but hearing about it now, it honestly made me so happy. Because when someone you care about has been fighting through a hard season, seeing them get a win like that feels like hope. It feels like momentum. It feels like one of those reminders that even when life is heavy, good things are still happening for the people we love. So that was a little light in the week, and I'm holding on to that one too. In a with a week like this, a mix of loss, unexpected news, and these small but real moments of light, I kept coming back to a verse that feels right where my heart has been. So this is from Psalms chapter 30, verse 5. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. And that's been the reminder I've needed. That the heaviness doesn't get the final word, that even in the middle of grief, there are still little signs of joy breaking through. So let us pray. God, this has been a heavy week, a week of loss, of unexpected news, of hearing about struggles in the lives of people we care about. And yet, in the middle of all of that, you still gave us moments of light, reminders that joy isn't gone, that hope still rises, and that you're still moving in quiet ways. We lift up the families who are grieving right now, Brenda's family, Stacy's family as they continue to navigate the loss of her father. Surround them with comfort, with peace, and with the kind of strength that only you can give. We also pray for my second cousin. You know everything she's been carrying. Thank you for the good news she received and for the doors opening in her life. Keep guiding her, steadying her, and reminding her that she's not alone. And for all of us, Lord, help us see the light you place in our days, even when the week feels heavy. Help us hold on to the joy that comes in the morning. Amen. So, everyone, thanks for spending a little time with me today. Weeks like these remind me how much we all carry and how important it is to slow down and notice the light when it shows up. I hope you found a little bit of that here today. So take care of yourselves, take care of each other, and keep looking for the small joys along the way. I'll see you next Friday on Fridays with Dan.