From Fear to Wonder Opening my eyes to the stars in the darkest nights

The light switch in my childhood room was by the door. My bed was all the way across the room. I was so afraid of the dark that I’d close my eyes before turning out the lights and walking across the room like I was playing some game from the… Read more“From Fear to Wonder Opening my eyes to the stars in the darkest nights”

Noticing The Goodness That Is There, Every Day

I tend to be a little hyper-focused at times. (I also tend to totally lack focus at other times. It’s called balance. Or maybe, ADD.) Truth is,  I’ve been in a long season of hyper-focus. Managing daily life, my home and family’s needs, and caregiving through an entire series worth… Read more“Noticing The Goodness That Is There, Every Day”

A mile in her shoes…walking in the dark, with others.

They carefully pressed his tiny toes first onto the ink pad, then onto the birth certificate. Next came his tiny hands. Hands that would hold my finger while he nursed, hold my hand while we walked and my heart, forever.  I have experienced those holy moments with 3 sons. It’s… Read more“A mile in her shoes…walking in the dark, with others.”

Dear Mom Who…….

Dear mom who: parents differently than me. Is having a bad day. Hasn’t showered in a week due to nursing schedule of doom or depression.  Who has a cranky child. Who has a child who has decided that today is THE day to test cuss words at church, or scream… Read more“Dear Mom Who…….”

I’m Not Proud to Be a Christian. (Just: grateful, humbled, in awe of God’s grace to me, the list goes on.)

I sometimes find myself wanting to wave a flag and declare:  I’m proud to be a Christian. Except. I’m not. It’s Pride Pressure. Pride pressure is when you see a bunch of facebook posts that (basically) threaten to judge you if you don’t post your “pride.” Some even imply that… Read more“I’m Not Proud to Be a Christian. (Just: grateful, humbled, in awe of God’s grace to me, the list goes on.)”

“Sorry, Pat Benatar. Love is not a battlefield. It’s time to stop fighting about it and start living it”

    Shout out to my girl, Pat. We’re on first name basis, of course. I actually call her Patty, she calls me Betty. (Long story.) ok. That’s a lie. Any way,  thanks , Pat, for inspiring my love of black leather, sassy short hair and for warning me that love… Read more““Sorry, Pat Benatar. Love is not a battlefield. It’s time to stop fighting about it and start living it””

A Mile in Her Shoes: Picking Favorites (Not among my children.)

I love her style. Maybe, if I spend time with her, it will rub off.  A list.  She’s beautiful, like model beautiful. If I hang with her, I’ll be the fat, plain friend. B list. She’s too negative. I can’t have that in my life. She’s too happy-happy joy joy…. Read more“A Mile in Her Shoes: Picking Favorites (Not among my children.)”

A Lavishly Celebrated Christmas…..

Lavish=expended, bestowed, or occurring in profusion: lavish spending. 2. using or giving in great amounts; prodigal (often followed by of): lavish of his time; lavish of affection. FYI: Lavish is a relative term. This year celebrating Christmas lavishly means: We have a tree in the foyer but the lights won’t work… Read more“A Lavishly Celebrated Christmas…..”

The Mess of the Manger

  Crystal. Olive wood from the holy land. Hand carved Bavarian. Faceless collectible figurines (I always will see if those are of Amish design…prices range from a dollar for an ornament at dollar tree to. Thousands. For a nativity scene. The choices are endless. One for every decor and budget. All… Read more“The Mess of the Manger”

The Last Dandelion. Celebrating the daily love of my kids.

  It is crushed enough that the chubby, dirty fingernailed and mud smeared hand that holds it, now shares a smear of it’s sun-like yellow color. And, it is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.  The last dandelion handed to me by my son.  The leaves are wilted. The stem… Read more“The Last Dandelion. Celebrating the daily love of my kids.”