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
I feel a little jealous when someone says, “I married my best friend!” or “We were high school sweethearts.” I married a…
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.
“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.
A funny thing happened recently. I looked in the mirror two days after my eye surgery and saw an unfamiliar face looking back at me. I studied my skin with all its splotchiness and thought, “The sedation meds must’ve had some weird effect!” I couldn’t imagine why my skin had taken on a different color and older look.
One Saturday morning years ago, I was cooking breakfast for a table full of ravenous teenage boys. A thought came to my mind, “You don’t even know who you’re serving.” It reminded me that all acts of love are done without our awareness of the ultimate outcome. Who knew the character and accomplishments that would be present in the lives of those boys? God did.