Dearest, We always said we’d learn to dance when we got married. But first there was a broken leg to prevent it, then there was always a baby belly or a baby in the way. We keep saying we’ll take dancing lessons when they’re older, laughing that by the time we get around to it…
To write is to risk. To put heart to paper in black and white, even if it’s hidden in a private journal, is to be vulnerable. To sign one’s name and click publish, without hiding behind a brand or a logo, is to bare one’s soul. To know you were made a writer, but that…
The buttercups grew alongside it The cows’ hooves had beaten down the grass so long it had given up growing in the path. Creatures of habit, always taking the same exact steps each time. I grew up wandering the cow paths on my Papa’s ranch. I spent hours reading the stories that were written as…
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…
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…
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…
“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…
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 grew up in the same little community my dad and grandpa had before me. I went to church with the same ladies who’d babysat my dad when he was little. We had shirttail relatives everywhere. Moving to a new town when I got married, looking for a new church, all in a community where…
Writing can be a lonely calling. The hammering out of words on keys. The editing, the honing, the writing again. It’s laborious and lonely. So there’s nothing like doing it together with a team of those who are also called to write. Cheering each other on when we get published, when we’re featured as a…
Weddings make me cry. So do goodbyes. But goodbyes at weddings? They really make me cry. I made it through my own wedding day with a big smile and dry eyes. Except for that moment my childhood and forever friend, my guestbook attendant, came up to hug me right before the ceremony started. And when…
The End.
The End.