The Shoemake Journals

10/02/2026

This is just a roll of toilet paper. Except it isn’t.

It’s homecoming week.

Out here, one of the traditions during homecoming is for the seniors to go rolling houses. And yes, every once in a while somebody takes it too far. Property gets damaged, people get angry, and Facebook lights up with posts about “kids these days.” And I get it. I don’t agree with kids destroying someone else’s property either.

But I want to tell you about some kids these days, too. Some of these boys were Leland’s friends. Leland would be 17 years old now. He would be a senior this year. Class of 2027. That sentence alone carries a weight I don’t know how to explain unless you’ve buried a child.

These boys stopped by my house tonight unexpected. They respectfully didn’t roll my house. Instead, they handed me one roll of toilet paper with “Leland Shoemake c/o 27” written across it. And I’m not sure they will ever fully understand what they handed me, because grief isn’t only the anniversaries everyone knows about. It isn’t only birthdays or the day someone died. It’s all the milestones that keep coming for everyone else while time stays frozen for the person you lost.

People don’t see me filling out medical paperwork for one of my children and stopping when it asks how many siblings they have. They don’t see me come across Timmy’s name as an emergency contact and have to mark through the name of the person who was supposed to always be there to raise our kids together, and then stare at the blank space left behind.

And they don’t see a new school year begin and a mama quietly realize: My son should be a senior. There are no senior pictures to take. No graduation announcements to order. No cap and gown. No graduation ceremony where I get to watch him walk across that stage.

And so far, there hasn’t been anything recognizing the fact that there is someone missing from the Class of 2027 who should be here.

One of the deepest fears when you lose someone—especially your child and your husband as I have—is that eventually everyone else will forget. Because I can’t forget. I remember them every single day. Sometimes I wonder if anyone else still does.

And then a group of teenage boys showed up at my house carrying a roll of toilet paper. It sounds so ridiculously small when you say it like that. But it wasn’t small to me. Because they remembered him.

For a moment, somebody else looked at this senior year and realized there should be another name in it.

Leland Shoemake.
Class of 2027.

So while social media is busy talking about everything wrong with “kids these days,” I think we need to be just as loud when they get something right. There are still good kids. There are still young men with compassion. There are still kids who know how to be respectful while having fun. There are still teenagers who stop long enough to think about somebody else’s heart. And there are parents raising those kids.

To these boys and the parents who raised them: thank you. You probably thought you were bringing me a roll of toilet paper. You weren’t. You brought me proof that my son is still remembered.

And to a mama who is terrified that the world will keep moving until everyone forgets the boy she would give anything to see standing among his friends today…

That is anything but a small gesture. ❤️

09/25/2026

Often times it’s not the actual day (sometimes it still is), but it’s the days surrounding it that can be the hardest. This entire month has been crushing me. I felt its weight before I even realized it was September.

11 years without my precious boy. I often wonder who he would be, how tall would he be, what would he sound like…and it’s debilitating. Leland would be a senior in high school now.

This is the second death anniversary that I have had to go through without Timmy. And it feels as though there’s no way to survive. The emotional pain isn’t the only crushing part, it’s physical too. Time heals absolutely nothing.

When Timmy and I went through the death of our child, we went through it together. He was the only one who lost the same person I did. The only one who lost him in the same way and who understood the exact pain I was going through. That loss caused the deepest wounds in both of us, but we leaned into each other and got through, one day at a time.

Our wounds were still there but we had learned to continue through and experience happiness again, to grow closer to each other. The days were long and nights were even longer. But we had each other. Now my days and nights are just one long nightmare.

The tiny bit that those wounds had healed, were all ripped open again when Timmy died. Grief and loss compounded on top of each other. Dragging me under to never let go. I no longer had my best friend, the other half of me…and the wounds were so deep, they would never heal. The old wounds reopened like when they were fresh all those years ago.

I don’t have the one person I need to get me through my days and be here with me on days like today. Timmy’s death left me feeling not only his, but feeling Leland’s all over again too. It’s a re-grieving of sorts. And it sucks.

So today as you go about your day, lift us in prayer and that God continues to help lift the heaviness we carry. Because it’s not just me in my pain and loneliness, there are still two children who miss their brother and their dad. They watch their mom fall apart on a daily basis. But they also see her get up and put on a face to brave the day. God is faithful, he comforts us, he provides, and he loves us.

So today I’m thanking God for the time he allowed with Timmy and Leland. And I’m thanking Him for trusting me with them both. But that doesn’t erase the pain I will endure for the rest of my life or the grief that always comes along side me as my unwanted companion.

08/30/2026

Arizona was amazing!!! Yall get ready because I got to sit down with an amazing man and share details that I’ve never shared publicly on a recording before. Raw, real, honest emotion in real time that’s unrehearsed.

Thank you Tyler Hall for hosting me and being so incredibly kind. God is doing amazing things through you. Thank you for being obedient and being a vessel for His good works. You and Heston made it so comfortable and welcoming for this southern girl. I consider you both good friends now! I sure hope we get to do this again soon!

Thank you James Robert D***s for being the conduit that connected us and being a friend from afar to me. So proud of you and how far you’ve come on your own painful journey.

Much love to you both and many prayers for blessings over you and your families.

https://www.instagram.com/tyler.hall?igsi=bXY2aTJndnAxdzJ6

https://linktr.ee/Tyler_hall?utm_source=linktree_profile_share<sid=c013b2ec-a5c5-43bb-b2a8-fdd54a45fe43

https://youtube.com/?si=32kBGCu6qIzzWduM

08/01/2026

For the first time in the forty years of my time on this earth, I went out to eat alone. And I’m not talking about sitting in the truck eating. I actually got out and went in and sat by myself. I thought it would feel isolating and embarrassing. But in all honesty, I didn’t care what people would think. They wouldn’t know the reason behind my being solo. They wouldn’t know where I would be just moments later.

Sitting between the two first loves of my life and not being able to talk to them. The ones that I will never be able to enjoy a lunch with ever again. My husband whom I was with everyday for 22 years. And my son whom I had for 6 years and made me a mom.

Trying to find my place in this world and where I fit in, has been a struggle my entire life. Until my late husband came into the picture. I knew exactly who I was with him and what my purpose was. He showed me love on the deepest level. He showed me how to love and that I was worthy of being loved back in the same capacity.

Now that he’s no longer here, I’m searching yet again for those things. But I’m not searching for the answers in any earthly person. God is the only place I seek answers and direction. Because people have let me down more often than not, and God never has.

I don’t come here to talk to Timmy or Leland. I come here to spend time with God and feel closer to them at the same time. I sit between them hoping that God will offer me some comfort as the tears roll down my face. This is never the way I envisioned my life going, but for some reason, God thought I was strong enough to handle it.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words but sometimes there are no words. Words can’t begin to describe the level of pain I live with daily. But this picture shows my reality. The loneliness. The brokenness. The isolation. The storm above. My loves below and on both sides of me. Defeat. Grief. But what else do I see? Strength. Resilience. Trust. Faith. Perseverance.

The heaviness of the dark cloud that is always overhead. The grief that never leaves or lets up. I never knew that a pain this deep could exist within someone and them still be breathing. But I’m proof it’s possible. Because God fills my lungs with oxygen and forces me to breathe when I constantly feel as though I’m holding my breath. He calms my panic. Soothes my wounds. Comforts my brokenness. Softens my heart. And holds me up when I can’t do it myself.

God DOES give us more than we can handle. Because it makes us realize we need Him to help us carry it all.

This picture reminds me that my kids will see that their mother never gave up. She was repeatedly knocked down but she always got back up. She has gone through the worst things in life, but the world didn’t win. She will fight and stand up every single time. Because sitting on the front row of two funerals made her into something that is terrifying to the enemy and the people he uses. She fights a battle daily that most would have surrendered to immediately. She’s not someone to be underestimated or provoked.

If you know a widow or a parent who has buried a child, they are often misunderstood and unpredictable. But if you are given the chance to be loved by them, don’t take it for granted. They will show you a love deeper than you ever thought possible. But at the same time they’ve learned to protect themselves and their peace. They can be so gentle, yet very firm. Their boundaries don’t shift for the comfort of others. They will remove anyone who doesn’t bring calm to their already anxious heart. But if you’re patient enough with them to love them, they will pull you in so deep, and you’ll be blessed beyond what you’ve ever prayed for. Trust me. We are worth it.

06/25/2026

As I was outside walking after having surgery last week, trying to get some grounding in, I had a very honest conversation with God. Walking through something like loss, especially one compounded on top of another, reveals things to you that otherwise wouldn’t be. We are faced with two paths to take. One of anger, loneliness, bitterness, isolation and destruction. Or one of growth, strength, perseverance, joy, love, faith, and trust. This is one area free will comes in.

I have Ginosko tattooed on my arm. It means “to know” but on an experiential level. This is the kind of relationship I have with God. Not one of textbook knowledge or lecture in nature but a knowing that can only come through experience and really knowing someone on a deeper and more personal level.

Oftentimes that knowing can only come through trials and hardships. Which is exactly where mine came from.

So I want to talk about love for a moment and free will. God could have made us in any way that he wanted to but he chose to give us free will. He could have easily made us all obedient and made a robot love so that he would be loved by all. But he didn’t. And I don’t blame him. I don’t want someone to love me because they were forced to. I want them to choose to. It means more that way.

He knew that free will would be our downfall. Where our failures would come from. Where all the bad choices and sin would be birthed. Where we are given the choice to turn our backs to Him or lean into Him. But he still gave it to us. And I know exactly why. Being on this side of what I’ve gone through has shown me a new strength, vision, clarity, healing and way of seeing others.

I put myself in His shoes when I think about it. Having a love where you are chosen, where you are the priority, where you are the option that is picked every single day. A love where it isn’t conditional to circumstances and where you’re only loved when things are going good. But where you’re loved when everything is falling apart. Where, no matter how much you screw up and get it wrong, you’re still chosen and still loved with the same magnitude.

This is the kind of love I experienced with Timmy. This is the kind of love I gave back to him. This is the kind of love I experience from God daily. And this is the kind of love I want to give back to Him. Most don’t get to experience this kind of love. But I did. And I’m forever grateful for that love.

This has turned into the only way I know how to love. And when I think about what I had and what God gives me, it brings me clarity on what it means to put God first and truly love Him. What it means to love others as God does. Because I know that love, and I’ll never give any other kind. God blessed me with this love once and if He chooses to, then I know He will again. I seek clarity, intention, presence. That’s the love that God gives, it’s the one that I give, and it’s the one that I expect in return. Not perfection. Just presence. If you can’t love God this way and love Him first, then you’ll never be able to love someone this way either.

Let me end by saying, I know my worth and what I have to offer. I know what I want and expect. Just as God does. He’s opened my eyes to so much. If you’re struggling with any of this and need help or direction, please reach out to me. This is something I’m very passionate about and I hope to turn into a career one day. Helping others through uncertainty and darkness. Having faith that God will always show up no matter what and that even in the pain, I still choose Him and I still trust Him. You can too. Never settle. Never lower your standards. Love God like He loves you and He will send someone that will love you the same way. Be patient my friends. I know it’s so tough to do that but I promise you, it’s worth the wait.

06/14/2026

I dressed up for church today.

That might not seem like a big deal, but if I’m honest, I don’t do it much anymore.

Not because I don’t like dresses. Not because I don’t care what I look like. Somewhere along the way, after loss, those things just stopped feeling important.

Timmy loved me in leggings, messy hair, no makeup, and an oversized t-shirt. He never needed me dressed up to think I was beautiful. But he also never missed an opportunity to tell me when I was.

He noticed. He always noticed. And when you’ve had someone love you like that, losing them changes things.

People think grief is just missing someone. It’s not. It’s waking up one day and realizing there was no closure. No final chapter. One day your story was being written, and the next it stopped. Mid sentence. Mid story. Mid us.

It’s standing in a life you never would have chosen and trying to figure out how to carry both things at once. The person you’ve become and the price you paid to become them.

It’s realizing your whole world ended, but somehow everyone else’s kept going. The bills still need to be paid. Groceries still need to be bought. Conversations still need to be had. You’re expected to keep functioning while carrying a weight nobody else can see.

The hardest part for me hasn’t been the tears. It’s how grief rewired me. Losing Leland. Losing Timmy. It made me aware of how quickly we can lose the people we love.

Now I hug tighter. I check to make sure people made it home safely. If someone I love takes too long to reply, my mind immediately goes somewhere it shouldn’t.

My heart is constantly bracing for the next phone call, the next goodbye, the next thing I’m not sure I could survive. It’s exhausting. It’s like part of me is always scanning the horizon for loss. Always waiting for something else to be taken.

And before anyone mistakes that for a lack of faith, it isn’t. I trust God completely. I know He’s sovereign. I know He’s good. I know every one of our days is written before a single one of them comes to be.

This isn’t fear that God will fail me. It’s the reality of having loved deeply and lost deeply. It’s the understanding that life is fragile and tomorrow is never promised. The difference now is that when those thoughts come, I don’t carry them alone.

I give them back to God. Over and over again. Because I’ve learned that while I can’t control what happens tomorrow, I can trust the One who already stands there waiting for me. I don’t take a single moment for granted.

Grief changed my tone. My eyes. My rhythm. My reactions. The way I love. The way I see people. The way I forgive. The way I worry. The way I trust. The way I walk through this world. I may look like the same person. But I’m not. And I never will be.

Every morning Timmy is still my first thought. Without fail. I’ve stopped fighting that. It’s just where he lives now. For a long time I kept waiting for the day it would hurt less. Now I know grief isn’t something you get over. It’s something you learn to carry. The love never leaves, so the grief doesn’t either.

The irony is that healing didn’t happen when I tried to hold it all together. Healing happened when I stopped pretending I was okay. When I sat in the mess. The anger. The sorrow. The exhaustion. The missing.
And let it be what it was. Proof that I loved. Proof that I lost. Proof that I’m still here. Because if there’s one thing I know, it’s this:

Timmy was worth every hard day. Every 2 a.m. Every tear. Every nightmare. Every broken piece. Every bit of grief that came from loving him. He was worth all of it.

Maybe one day I’ll have a reason to dress up again. Maybe one day there will be someone waiting to tell me I look beautiful. But for now, when I put on a dress, it reminds me of him.

It reminds me of the man who never missed an opportunity to make sure I knew I was loved, wanted, and seen.

So today I put on the dress because I’m still here. Still standing. Still learning how to live in a life I didn’t choose. Still carrying a love that death couldn’t take. And still choosing, every single day, to move forward.

Not moving on. Moving forward.

06/10/2026

Yesterday, while I was out on my walk, I was crying harder than I had in a long time. Just me, God, and an honest conversation that only He could hear.

As I looked up, I noticed something unusual in the sky. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, but there was another bright light reflecting beside it. For a moment it looked like there were two suns shining. It’s called a sun dog, or parhelion, a phenomenon created when sunlight passes through ice crystals in the atmosphere.

I couldn’t help but think about how often God works that way. Even when we can’t clearly see the source, the evidence of His presence is still there.

Sometimes the Son is hidden behind the clouds of grief, disappointment, waiting, or uncertainty, but His light is still breaking through in ways we don’t always recognize at first.
It reminded me of Psalm 84:11:

“For the Lord God is our sun and our shield.”

Standing there looking at that sky, I couldn’t help but think about how often God gives us reminders that He is still working, even when we can’t fully see what He’s doing.

1 Samuel 23:16 (NIV)

“Jonathan went to find David and helped him find strength in God.”

I think one of the hardest lessons to learn is trusting God’s timing when it doesn’t match our own.

We pray. We wait. We wonder why God isn’t moving faster. Why He hasn’t answered yet. Why the door hasn’t opened. Why the right people haven’t shown up.

But when I look at David’s story, I see something beautiful.

Before David ever sat on the throne, there was a wilderness. Before the promise was fulfilled, there was waiting. And in that waiting, God was working. Not just on David, but on the people and circumstances around him too.

Sometimes we think every delay is about us. Sometimes it is. Sometimes God is growing our faith, teaching us patience, humbling our pride, healing old wounds, or preparing our hearts for what we’ve been asking Him for. But sometimes the waiting isn’t about us at all.

Sometimes God is working in someone else’s life. Sometimes He’s arranging circumstances we can’t see. Sometimes He’s preparing people who will eventually cross our path at exactly the right moment.

David needed Jonathan, but Jonathan also had to be in position to encourage David when the time came. God saw the entire picture when neither of them could. That’s what we forget. We see the chapter we’re standing in. God sees the whole story.

Isaiah 55:8-9 reminds us:

“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord. “And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.”

The friendships. The opportunities. The closed doors. The open doors. The waiting seasons. None of it is wasted.

God knows who we need, when we need them, and how they need to show up in our lives. He knows what work still needs to be done in us and around us before certain prayers are answered.

And because He is a good Father, He isn’t interested in giving us what’s merely good. He wants what’s best. Even when we don’t understand it. Even when the waiting feels long. Even when our faith feels weak.

Proverbs 3:5 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding.”

That’s the hard part, isn’t it? Trusting when we don’t understand. But I’ve learned that some of God’s greatest work happens in the waiting. The seasons that feel silent are often the seasons where He is moving the most behind the scenes.

So if you’re waiting on something today, don’t lose heart. God hasn’t forgotten you.

He’s working in ways you can’t see, writing parts of the story you don’t know yet, and putting pieces into place that will make sense one day. Until then, trust Him.

The God who sees the whole picture can be trusted with the chapter you’re living in.

04/25/2026

Tune in tomorrow to hear my conversation with my friend Dustin. You can listen online too!!!

POWERFUL. REAL. INSPIRING. ✨

Join us TOMORROW MORNING at 8AM on 92.5 The Bear for a special edition of Heavenly Sunday Morning with D-Rock 🙌

🎙️ We’re welcoming Author Amber Shoemake as she shares her incredible story and talks about her book:
📖 “A Good Day: Faith in the Shadows of Loss”

This is more than an interview… it’s a message of hope, healing, and faith that could speak directly to someone’s life right now ❤️

👉 If you or someone you know needs encouragement… DON’T MISS THIS

📻 Tune in at 92.5 FM The Bear
⏰ 8AM TOMORROW

💬 Tag someone who needs to hear this
🔁 Share this post to spread the encouragement

🙌📖✨

04/19/2026

Book signing day and just two hours away!!!!!

I can’t wait to see you all and hug you! Don’t forget to hold tight to faith and know there’s always hope, even in the darkness. Remember it’s not how or where you start but that you don’t give up and that you finish. Don’t waste your pain and trust that today is a good day!

See you all between 2-5pm on the square next to Fat Joes in Thomaston. ♥️ ✌️ 🙏