a guest post by Jennifer (Pinkerton) van Leeuwen Monday came fast. We’d arrived to the new “home” on a Friday after two weeks trekking across the country and into Canada on a honeymoon road trip. The occasional hotel laundry room had provided unique bonding experiences along the way (“John! Why did you put my white…
I’m looking forward to pulling off my socks and hauling a heavy basket of wet clothes out in the warm sunshine, wrestling the sheets against the wind, shoving the pins down hard, and hoping things stay put ’till they dry. Few of my household tasks are as pleasant as hanging the washing out for the…
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…
Some days, it feels as if I’m living on borrowed time. When the images of September 11 fill my Facebook feed like they filled our television screen eleven years ago. But my loved ones weren’t there in those pictures. When I remember that yesterday was the eleventh anniversary of when my sister-in-law pulled out in…
They spin and they twirl and they stand on their tip toes (preferably in the sunlight streaming through the window so they can watch their shadow dance). In their mind’s eye, they are as graceful as the Ballet Magnificat. “Aren’t I so lovely, Mommy?” the one asks in all confidence. And I agree. Smiling at…
“There are hundreds of ways that heartache can rip through our lives. The kind of pain doesn’t change the truth. God is the same no matter what type of agony we face.” -Natasha Metzler in Pain Redeemed Natasha’s story is one of infertility. Maybe yours is of a broken relationship. Or of a sick child….
in honor of our second daughter’s third birthday I’m posting her birth story… originally written September & October, 2009 Dear Mary Kate, During your first week of life, your daddy commented on how quickly one adjusts to a “new normal.” And when your Grandma kissed you goodbye when you were two weeks and two days…
Sundays are just plain hard when there are little ones in the house. Either your plans of sleeping in fell to naught and everyone was grumpy and tired the entire time you were getting ready for church. Or you actually did sleep in and therefore everything was rushed and you were finally getting into the…
I stuffed my purse full of Kleenex because I knew Angie Smith would be speaking. God knew I’d catch a cold and be carrying around an entire box of Kleenex before the conference was over. I was looking forward to the weekend as a time of refreshment and renewal. God had already given Angie the…
That second I realize I’m going to have to stretch to reach it and every muscle tightens in anticipation rather than relaxing to bend and extend. That moment I realize I’m going to be stretched beyond my comfortable status quo and everything within me is taut with fear. That is when I realize I can…
Give me the wisdom to forego the tyranny of the urgent that I might not forsake the eternal that is here and now.
The End.
The End.