Dear Tom, It’s hard to remember my life before you. Somehow, you were always here; always meant to be. I love you falls…
Helping Women Move From Fear into Faith
In November 1985, as our loved ones gathered around, Tom and I walked the aisle, prayed, linked arms and promised to stick…
I find myself still wandering around in the old year working on the lessons begun there. I’m not as excited about a new year as I usually am. I want to be dazzled by the new number and the new decade but it hasn’t hit me yet.
So I come to you Lord, humbly, again offering myself completely to you. I don’t have it all together, but this is what I do know: You are my everything. I fervently long for your will to be done in my life so that I will bring you glory in this bright and shiny New Year.
I don’t want to carry gratitude around in seasons.
I want to carry it in my bones,
I want to rest it in on my tongue
like it is a language
that I never stop speaking.
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.
It felt good just to hear myself say the words and to hear her listening. She went on to tell me about a difficult situation she and her husband have been navigating with a third party. Immediately the magic happened again. We were entering into each others’ lives and caring and responding. It helped me to get my mind off of myself; pray again for her and also feel relieved of my sad feelings.
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.
There is a part of me that would like to climb up on the old soapbox and tell you what I think about all the craziness in our world today. If I did, my voice would only heighten the loud cacophony all around, in which it is hard to distinguish a true voice that matters.
On my morning walk I was praying like it was my job— serious praying that befits this season. Friends with serious health diagnoses, a sweet friend fighting for her life after a horrific accident and a couple manuevering a very painful breach in their marriage—we love them all so much and we’re crying out for answers. It seems almost too heavy a burden sometimes.
Is your table big enough for folks outside your family? Is your heart large enough to offer a hand of friendship to…
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.
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.