Someone spilled their juice at breakfast. Again. And it’s no use crying over spilt milk or juice, but it’s the fact that it’s spilt over and again that tries one’s patience. Too often I react to my children’s little spills and mistakes with less patience than they show towards me. And it’s in the midst…
Christmas was the first trip we’ve taken with him that we didn’t pack the Boba or the Ergo or the wrap—or all three. And I only wished we had it once. He’s twenty months and getting oh so very man-like. Think ahead to a time when your little boy’s a man And you’d give anything…
I still remember the view from the diving board at the city pool where we took swimming lessons. I’d stand there, hesitating, my teacher and the rest of the class watching and cheering me on. I knew it would be fine, once I jumped. But it was the fear of jumping that kept me there….
“Stay where you can hear His voice.” It’s the lesson from Allume that keeps reverberating in my head. When I want rules, when I want guidelines, Ann Voskamp’s words echo back. She told the story in parable form, as she does so well. Their daughter asked how far she could go away from the church…
It’s when the quiet settles in after a long day that I feel my body relax. I can finally hear myself think. If it’s naptime, I can write or work. If it’s nighttime, I can curl up with a book or cuddle up with my husband. But those quiet moments are so few and far…
It was one of those mornings. Other people’s to-do lists crowding out my own, yesterday’s laundry begging to be washed, and constant phone calls on a dying cell phone. I was feeling sorry for myself, running high on caffeine and low on patience. Then someone fell and there was blood and a quick trip to…
My daddy’s roots go deep. He planted his family not 30 miles from where his great grandpa raised his own children. The tilling of the land might have lessened a bit with each generation, but that hasn’t changed the way these men are tied to the place they’ve always called home. I like to think…
I look down and I see my wrinkles and rolls, stretch marks and blemishes. I see legs that are anything but tanned and an outfit devoid of style. I look up and I see their bright eyes and a beautiful smile. I see shoulders that hug and arms that hold. I see hairs that He…
It’s a race. We’re to run with perseverance. And that might mean throwing off everything that hinders us. We’re to run in such a way as to finish the race. And that might mean strict training. We’re to run a good race. And that means not letting anyone cut in and get us off course….
I ask her to pick up her room and she does anything but. She runs in from outside, fist full of flowers, “I picked this bouquet for you, Mommy!” “They’re beautiful, honey, but aren’t you supposed to be picking up your room?” She comes from the school table, “I drew all my letters!” “Good job,…
I stretch my arms wide. I want to do it all. But then everything’s shallow. It is easier to go wide than it is to go deep. I say yes to too many things thinking, “I can do it.” But then I’m spread so thin I can’t do anything well. Less is more. I’d rather…
Dear Me, I’ve been wondering—if I really could send a letter back in time to you, what is it you most need to hear? I could tell you about the adorable curly-haired children you’d have, but you could probably guess what they’d look like (hint: just look at your baby pictures). I could tell you…
The End.
The End.