I am Javert. I see everything black and white. Justice, all must be fair. Yet, I am Eponine. Dirty and rotten. Ever failing. So desperately in need of mercy. Then there are my little Cosettes looking up at me. Innocent in so many ways yet already in need of grace. And I feel the struggle…
“Mom, when I grow up, I’m going to have the perfect life.” So said my almost-six-year-old yesterday afternoon. She went on to describe the perfect Aspen trees she’d climb, the horses she’d ride. And I lost track of her detailed perfection as I looked around at the toys strewn all over the floor, her mis-matched outfit and…
“Where did you get that red hair?” My brother and I heard the question over and over growing up, since we sported identical shades of dark red hair–mine curly, his anything but. “From both sides of the family,” we’d explain. We had three great grandpas with red hair, only one of whom we ever knew….
Sunday morning worship time isn’t always very conducive to worship when you’re a mom. I breathe a big sigh of relief if we even make it there on time and in one piece. And then I try to sing the right words at the right time while balancing a child in one arm and a…
We talk about the first time and the last time, romanticizing the romance and the goodbyes in Country songs and novels. But the truth is, that first kiss, though sweet, is often awkward. And the first time that newborn babe is in your arms you’re as filled with fear as you are joy and relief….
Sometimes I stare in the mirror on Sunday mornings and wonder why I bother. Why put on the makeup, why wear the cute skirt? Because when we see each other Sunday morning, our children bouncing up to us, the makeup covering the tired bags under our eyes–that’s not real relationship. We exchange hellos and compliment…
Dear Ruth Ann, You are my eldest, my artist, the one who keeps me on task but forgets to stay on task. You have your daddy’s laid-back personality combined with the typical traits of an oldest, but oh you have your mother’s penchant for getting so lost in your art that you forget everything else….
“Was it hard, moving away from your family?” they ask. “Weren’t you homesick?” I always smile as I shake my head. I’d been homesick for him for so long that I couldn’t be homesick when we were finally making a home together. Yes, there were the adjustments of a new town, a new job, finding…
Dear Mary Kate, There’s no way to put into words the giggle in your voice, the lilt in the way you pronounce words. A photo can capture the sprinkling of tiny freckles across your button nose, but it would take a non-stop video camera to record everything that makes you Mary Kate. You are developing…
Whenever I am getting ready for company, I start seeing my house through another’s eyes. The bookshelves are stacked to the overflowing, and the desk looks just like the shelves — except it is papers and files that are cascading all over the desk. Dust bunnies lurk in the corners and can always be found…
Every spring we have fleeting thoughts of worry until we see them come in again. Selling organic vegetables brings us more than the usual run of clientele suffering from illnesses they are hoping to cure by eating well. And sometimes, we wonder whether we will see them again next year or not. But he had…
I am related to some of the most beautiful people in the world. I just can’t decide if they seem more beautiful when I’m missing them so far away, or if they are more beautiful when I get to see their faces again after a long absence. My beautiful paternal grandmother is in the hospital…
The End.
The End.
