Rue Emmanuelle: Our Gift of Grace and Healing

God stitches together stories with details that often help mend the shattered pieces of our hearts in ways we never expect in our waiting and in our hoping and in our healing. Here we are waiting for something very special—a little bit of grace and hope for healing.

For the last few weeks, the name Rue kept coming to mind. I didn’t know why. But I kept turning it over in my head.

Rue.

Rue.

Why Rue?

I mean Rue is street in French, I know that, but who is Rue?

Then there are moments in life when the smallest things—a name, a gesture, a look—seem to carry profound meaning. They feel like gentle whispers of grace, guiding us through sorrow while opening the door to new beginnings. This is what happened when the name Rue quietly began to echo in my heart, not knowing why.

Until it made more sense.

Six months ago today, 12/18, we lost our girl Bonnie, and our hearts were shattered even more in the wake of the devastating loss of Jon. I know for sure that Bonnie was never the same as she sat by Jon’s side so often protecting and licking his weak hand to bring him comfort. Never mind the signs she gave me when something wasn’t quite right, and then we’d end up in the ER. Dog’s sense and know.

It is why love our furry friends so much. They are part of us.

Clyde has not been the same since his buddy Jon left us, too; he’s been even more sad and lonely since the loss of his best friend and companion, Bonnie. I know how you feel, Clyde.

The adventures of Bonnie and Clyde have been part of our humorous and loving history for the past nine years. Bonnie came to us at two years old, after 13 long, beautiful years with Gracie. Clyde came to us 8 years ago on Good Friday. That was a great Friday.

We have been discerning if a new furry friend would be an option for us. Our hearts have been hurting. We didn’t know where to look.

We looked into rescues and considered a select few breeds. We were open to whatever God wanted for us. We came to realize after a frightening and unexpected encounter with a rescue our hearts could not take much more trauma that may come with a dog who may be older and needing rescuing. Truth is in many ways, we still need to be rescued.

Then I saw her. The one with those beautiful, brown, soulful eyes.

The little playful one with the brown curly soft hair.

I think this little one is rescuing us.

Rescued by a New Pup

A sweet friend, Suzi, I’ve known for some time who lives in Texas and has roots near Philadelphia, is a breeder with a standard poodle. The friend reached out to me in the fall after she learned a new litter of golden doodles were on their way. But in my “fog of grief,” I don’t remember seeing her text not until I went to send her a text a few weeks ago inquiring about the last available pup in the litter. What a wink it was to receive that text back in September near Jon’s birthday.

The new pups came on the Feast of The Guardian Angels at a time when the kids and I were talking A LOT about our Guardian Angels. I didn’t know anything about the pups at that time. As mom, I felt a strong call to call on their guardian angels a lot.

Just in the last few weeks, I saw that the last baby in the litter was available. I discerned, questioned, and discussed with God and my kids, and have no doubt, I “discussed” it all with Jon, too. So many signs, nods, and wonders still leave me in awe to say, “yes, your hearts could really use this.”

While I know some may question our decision, I probably would, too. But I have come to trust the voice of discernment and that this choice, rooted in love and discernment, is one God is leading us to, and we embrace it with open hearts.

What I also know is I have 4 young adults/teens who are hurting too. And who are utterly committed to being open to life and helping us welcome a breath of fresh air and new furry life to help us take steps forward.

Last night while sitting with my confessor, he shared a word or two that hearkened back to affirm what is on my heart, You have so much love to give. Pour it out.

So…here we are.

This is the story of pouring out love and how it all connects to Rue Emmanuelle.

Sweet Little Rue

Once we knew we were making a decision that felt right for our family and our hurting hearts, one of my girls and I searched for a possible name that would go well with our boy, Clyde. We already had a Bonnie to our Clyde.

So we scoured lists, smiling at the possibilities, “swiping left” on the ones that didn’t fit.

Then, almost in unison, we both landed on the name Rue.

Instantly, it felt right.

I recalled the many times, Rue came to my mind over the last few weeks.

Oh, this is Rue.

Later, the other kids, who loved the name, Rue, for their own reason, added their excitement, affirming our choice.

Sometimes, life brings us small signs that feel like a whisper of grace amidst the noise of sorrow. In this season of grief, we mourn the loss of a beloved husband, father, and our loyal standard poodle, Bonnie, who we lost 6 months ago today. We find ourselves opening our hearts to a new companion—a chocolate mini doodle who shall be named Rue Emmanuelle.

Emmanuelle: God is With Us

The second part of Rue’s name, Emmanuelle, may be no surprise. We ARE IN the season of Advent—waiting and hoping. Waiting for that miracle to be birthed in our sorrow.

Emmanuelle brings in the powerful truth of God’s presence with us. The name Emmanuel comes from the Hebrew Immanuel, meaning “God is with us.” It is a reminder that God walks beside us even in our deepest sorrow. Choosing Emmanuelle for her middle name felt more than right.

Yes we give our pups middle names too. Gracie Hope, Bonnie Maizie, Clyde Vader and now Rue Emmanuelle.

Rue Emmanuelle’s name is a gentle companion on our journey and a reflection of God’s eternal and comforting presence. Through her, we are reminded that God is always near, no matter our challenges.

What about Rue?

Rue’s name brings with it layered meanings. In Old English, Rue signifies “sorrow,” a tender nod to our grief and heaviness in this time of loss. The Hebrew root rue tells a different story in the Bible: it means friend or companion. Together, these meanings capture the essence of this new chapter. Rue arrives as a gentle acknowledgment of our sorrow but also as a faithful friend to walk alongside us through it.

And then, there’s the unexpected connection: Rue’s mother is named Gracie, which I learned later as I began to doubt our decision. Learning this simply affirmed the decision for me and the doubt disappeared.

It felt like the divine wink I needed, a reminder of grace interwoven into this moment. Gracie—the name Jon and I bestowed on our first furry friend, was a white standard poodle we rescued at 6 months from the SPCA at a time in our lives when we both really needed her. We needed that grace as we adjusted to some challenging “outside” circumstances we unexpectedly faced early in our marriage. Gracie, the name we once chose for our first furry friend, now echoes in Rue’s mother’s name—a reminder that grace, like love, always finds its way back to us in ways we least expect it.

In the Bible, Rue is mentioned in Luke 11:42, where Jesus reproaches the Pharisees for focusing on tithing herbs like Rue while neglecting justice and the love of God. This passage calls us to focus on what truly matters—internal virtues over external displays.

Rue’s name can be seen as a reminder to seek purity of heart, to reflect on the depth of our faith, and to aim for balance and integrity in all we do. It asks us to turn our attention to the love of God and to live out that love through our actions. This is exactly the kind of message my priest shared with me last night without knowing our situation with Rue.

Rue is the Herb of grace—it is now part of Rue’s story. It’s as if God, in His infinite kindness, is threading our lives together in ways we couldn’t have anticipated.

Our little Rue really is the Herb of grace in more ways than one. God is never to be outdone with the details of our lives and the beauty He creates from the worn and shattered pieces.

While there is no saint named Rue—you know I love my Saints—the Herb itself has been connected to practices of prayer, penance (where I received such beauty, grace, and mercy from the priest (in Persona Christi last night), healing, and grace. Rue symbolizes the virtues of patience, perseverance, and steadfast faith—qualities that are essential in our spiritual walk.

With her tender presence, Rue Emmanuelle is not only a physical companion but also a symbol of spiritual growth and divine companionship. She reminds us that healing is a journey—and as we walk it, we are never truly alone.

The name Rue Emmanuelle brings the themes of sorrow, healing, grace, and divine companionship. Rue’s presence as the “herb of grace” gently calls us toward spiritual renewal, offering us the grace to heal from our losses and embrace a future filled with hope. Her name speaks to sorrow but also to forgiveness and the path to healing—inviting us to turn toward the love of God in every moment—another message the priest and I discussed last night.

Rue Emmanuelle is not here to replace what we’ve lost. Nothing can replace or fill the void of those losses. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that in your grief journey, whether for a parent, a spouse, a pet, or a friend.

Bonnie’s place in our hearts is secure, and the legacy/memory of a husband/father remains a cornerstone of our family’s story. They can never be replaced. Instead, Rue Emmanuelle represents the truth that even in grief, life offers gifts. Her presence is a bridge between what was and what is to come—a reminder that love expands and makes room for joy, even in the shadow of sorrow.

Welcoming Rue feels like an act of hope. Her soft, warm, chocolate coat and wagging tail will soon become familiar fixtures in our home, and her name—a blend of sorrow and companionship—will remind us daily that we are never alone. Rue’s story, with a mother named Gracie, is a gentle testament to the grace that carries us forward, even when the way feels uncertain, even when it feels incomplete.

As we embrace this new friend, we hold space for the memories of those we miss while making room for the healing and joy that Rue will surely bring. She is a sign that life, though forever changed, still holds sweetness and possibility. Rue is more than a name; she is a symbol of love, grace, and the beauty of a heart that remains open, even in the face of sorrow.

And it’s worth sharing that a few short hours ago, we picked up this little love from the airport, she flew across the country with a companion who said Rue was sweet and chill. Like in The Adventures of Bonnie and Clyde; Rue and Clyde are already getting along famously and lovingly. I am sure in a few days, they will be romping across the yard. But today starts the Adventure of Clyde Vader and Rue Emmanuelle all ordained by our Father in Heaven.

Rue’s journey with us is just beginning, but already, her presence is a living reminder that even in the shadow of sorrow, life and love continue to grow—renewing our hearts and filling our home with joy, and love and laughter once again.

Welcome Home, Rue Emmanuelle. You truly are a gift from above, and we already love you.

I have no doubt Jon had his hand in so many parts of this!!!

This post is dedicated to the furry friends we have loved and lost and the hand of the Father, who weaves it all together and the husband and father who helped created this house of love and laughter.