Father, forgive me. Too often, my expectations focus only on the negative. I fear, I doubt, I dread. And I pray. But are my pleas against the things I fear or for the things I know You can do? I know how much my thoughts guide my attitude. So shouldn’t I be watching with eager…
I listened to it as I fell asleep last night. And each time I woke up, it was still coming down. The gentle thud of each drop on the rooftop was music to my ears, lulling the little ones to sleep, helping my farmer hubby rest a bit more easily. The girls had cried on…
When I look at my son, I see his daddy. When I see my son’s smile, it’s my brothers all over again. When I look at my husband’s profile, I see the profile of his dad and his grandfather. When my husband smiles, it’s his grandpa’s military picture smiling back at me. When I look…
Dearest, Did you know what you were getting into, my love, when you married a writer? Did you know it would mean oft coming home to dishes only half finished because inspiration struck in the midst of the soap suds? Did you know how often I’d nearly burn your dinner—or forget to get it started…
I’m faced with the opportunity so many times a day. And too often, I ignore it. The moment slips through my fingers due to my own impatience. It’s not a book deal or a speaking engagement. No, it’s bigger than that. But I brush it aside and think I’ll tend to it later. I pretend…
She talks of how moms need perspective and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. How can one maintain perspective in the midst of the up-all-night, wiping-noses-all-day, clingy-sick-babies kind of week we’ve had? Another speaks of visionary motherhood and the tears well so I can’t even see. How am I supposed to be a…
There’s something about hanging out the laundry that makes it all right in my world once again. Maybe it’s the wind in my hair. Or the sheets flapping in the breeze. Maybe it’s the sense of accomplishment, four baskets of clothes hung neatly on the line. And the even greater satisfaction of a job well…
Dear Mom, I’m not sure how you did it. I know your floor hid the crumbs better than mine does. But the laundry was always clean and folded and put away. We didn’t have messes of toys everywhere. Our house was clean and we were happy. Not only that, but you managed a home-based business,…
“And when you believed in Christ, He identified you as His own…” –Ephesians 1:13, NLT Twenty-five years ago today, I took His identity for my own. With the simple faith of a child, I knelt and prayed. I gave Him my heart, my life. I decided to follow Jesus, no turning back. But it was…
My maternal grandfather’s birthday is today. It seemed a fitting time to share this piece I wrote ten years ago for a college writing class. Happy Birthday, Papa! Thanks for your example and all the memories. I love you. Stepping lightly over the hot wire fence alongside my cousin Melissa, I recall the day not…
I’m a country girl.
Real is the dirt field my farmer plows.
Real is the paper and ink love letters we wrote to each other.
Dear Lord, It’s past 1 o’clock in the afternoon on this, the National Day of Prayer here in the U.S. The house is finally quiet, for the first time since the middle child woke us all up at I can’t even remember what time. I sit down with my Bible and a hot cup of…
The End.
The End.