I would speed through it all and finally sit down to enjoy our decorated fresh fir… after the holidays. I was overwhelmed with sadness when I realized I’d missed some priceless moments that were gone forever.
Helping Women Move From Fear into Faith
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.
“At the basis of Jesus Christ’s kingdom is the unaffected loveliness of the commonplace.”
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.
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.
It’s the last day of November and I’m not thinking of Christmas. As I unpack boxes in our new house, my mind…
I lost a dear friend this week. Actually, she’s not lost. It’s me who’s lost just knowing she’s not here. Her earthly ties were cut loose and she flew right into the arms of Jesus. I’m hurting for my loss but no doubt the loss is felt much more by her dear husband of over 60 years and all the extended family who loved her so much.
“Our house was not unsentient matter — it had a heart and a soul, and eyes to see with…. We never came home from an absence that its face did not light up and speak out its eloquent welcome — and we could not enter it unmoved.” Mark Twain
My daughter Katherine was about three years old when I walked upstairs and saw a long row of shoes–our family’s shoes–up and down the hallway, near the bathroom door. There she was, bright eyed with that perpetual smile. “Joy” was the nickname I’d given her. When I asked about the shoes she said, “You told me we’re having a shower so I got everyone’s shoes ready.”
We just celebrated Eliza Jo’s first birthday with a “pool party” in our back yard. All the cool kids were there.
The grandparent hype is true. Full heart; big feelings.
My friend and I imagined that theoretically we could have a tidy clean house with everything in order. But what benefit would there be to an empty house? We wanted to learn to embrace or at least accept the poopy diapers,never ending laundry, the continual spills. One day we’d miss those little rug rats.