One day one of us will be alone without the other. I’m not willing to entertain that thought right now. I’m hoping that we’ll just fly to Jesus one day, all wrapped up together.
Look into her/his face. Smile big. Say good morning in my happiest voice. If she/he starts a conversation, listen intently and make a kind reply. Repeat…
I realized today when I tossed those pillows on the swing that the way I’m wired hasn’t curled up and died. My gifts for gathering people and warming up our home so people will feel loved and welcomed. This is who I am. I just haven’t known how to be that person in a different place.
This week I read about a 100 year old woman who’s shared 82 years of marriage with her husband who’s 103. When asked their secret she offered, “Just be nice to each other.”
I’m all for the first amendment; free speech and all. But what is to be done to a word that is both ambiguous and possibly hurtful? I’m thinking of the word old.
We barely knew each other at our wedding; it’s true. I can still picture myself in a scene from our honeymoon. We were taking a walk in a hilly area of St. Maartan. It felt surreal and scary and I recall thinking to myself, “What have we done?!”
“No one else can play your part.”
A few months ago, while waiting in a long line, I found myself listening to a conversation in a public place. There was mild irritation between a husband and wife who were disagreeing over a minor issue concerning a child. A mom, who wasn’t acquainted with the couple, commented to the wife that she was so glad she no longer had to endure arguing.
Is your table big enough for folks outside your family? Is your heart large enough to offer a hand of friendship to…
Dolly—my friend of over forty years. It’s funny that when you’re young and nonchalantly making friends, you don’t think ahead to how a friendship might play out. How you’ll find yourself years later, thinking like that person or even talking like her. I realize today that I’m pretty much a compilation of all my relationships plus the Grace of God.