Category: memories

A Love Letter

A Love Letter

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.

Don’t Quit in the Middle

Don’t Quit in the Middle

We got married to be together. For better or worse. Let’s put on love. One touch here. A kiss there. A kind word. Love is made up of lots of little decisions. Let’s wear LOVE like a coat. Let’s wrap our SELVES completely in it.

Blindly Going

Blindly Going

There were so many times I felt like I couldn’t change another diaper, or survive another tantrum or comfort my daughter through the night when morning would come so quickly. That I’d never be able to enjoy a so-called normal life. But I also recognized the Holy Spirit coaxing me to keep going (without seeing).

Finding Me

Finding Me

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.

I Married a Stranger

I Married a Stranger

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?!”

Is Your Table Big Enough?

Is Your Table Big Enough?

Is your table big enough for folks outside your family? Is your heart large enough to offer a hand of friendship to…

Reaping Where I Didn’t Sow

Reaping Where I Didn’t Sow

I stepped outside into a beautiful April morning and did a little trimming in our mini-yard. Compared to the acre we lived on earlier, this one is on the tiny side. I happened along into a small spot in between our house and Debbie’s. There, hidden away, is the most beautiful profuse light blush colored rose bush. I was reminded again that I’m reaping things I didn’t sow.

Back in the Saddle

Back in the Saddle

Today I took out an instrument of torture on the lovely path— the instrument I formerly referred to as my bike.

Hope in Room 562

Hope in Room 562

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.