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…
By now I hope you’ve embraced your impact as a smaller blogger, are celebrating the joy of building relationship with your readers, and {just about} ignoring your stats altogether. It feels good, doesn’t it? But…What if God calls you to enlarge your reach? Or what if seeds you’ve sown in your blogging journey suddenly ripen…
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 sitting in the coffee shop. I have 45 minutes to write, but the computer is sitting in the bag at my feet. For the moment, my mood matches the weather outside, and I can’t even remember why I call myself a writer. The last thing I want to do is to write words for…
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.
I read a passage this week that, despite being recorded way before the age of computers, seems totally written to us bloggers. Will ya’ll forgive me a liberal paraphrase? “Dear blogging sisters, don’t be partial! For, if a well-known blogger with a professional head shot and a custom graphics visits your blog, and you fawn…
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…
Last week, I planted miracles in the ground. Racing the coming thunderstorm, I spaded the earth and pushed them into the holes. With one eye on the lightning streaking through the black clouds, I covered them quickly, knowing the rain would soon do the rest. Little bits of dried up nothing. Barely a wilted green…
The End.
The End.
