341Jun 1, 2012
Gratitude wells up, flowing out well beyond words, thanksgiving offered open-palmed to YHWH, Elohim, El Shaddai, the lover of my soul, the One who teaches me how to see, the One who never lets me look away. ~*~ I admit it: Sometimes life hits me, smack in the middle of the day when I […]
342May 18, 2012
I live my life on an unpredictable sea. I’m guessing, but I think maybe you do too. Storms come without warning, and I fly overboard, plunged beneath the swells. Mother’s Day, and I sit at the table with Adam while Kevin puts the finishing touches on lunch–the beef stroganoff that has been simmering in the […]
343Apr 27, 2012
Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, 15 I will remember my covenant between me and you…(Genesis 9:14,15). Twelve years old, and she asks for rainbows for her birthday. My rainbow, this reminder that God is faithful; this beauty—a whole spectrum of color, Light bent through rain until we see […]
344Apr 13, 2012
I’m back from a run, my pulse still elevated, sweat dripping. “Mom? You’re sweaty.” Riley’s voice rises from the living room, where she sits waiting on me, her pencil moving over a workbook in her lap. Before I leave, every run, she asks me where I’ll be running, rehearses the steps with me street by […]
345Mar 23, 2012
Today, I will hug each of my children as many times as I serve them meals — because children’s hearts feed on touch. I’ll look for as many opportunities to touch my children today as possible — the taller they are, the more so. ~Ann Voskamp Every day breathing, for me, means learning this: love comes first. I remember […]
346Mar 16, 2012
It’s as though every day is the first time I’ve met God, the first time I’ve loved Him. I wake up and I can’t remember who I am, or that I’m abundantly blessed. I feel trapped in the weary, aware of the walls that surround me, boxed in and dull. And then He shows me […]
347Mar 9, 2012
I know how you feel. Days come when I wake up and think, I don’t want to do this. I feel like the husk of a woman, emptied. I am clay, a bowl dusty from the kiln, all scooped out by the master’s hand and cooling in the ashes. With His fingers He has crumbled and […]
348Mar 3, 2012
It’s the little things that help us choose joy, like Saturday mornings with no where to go. We have been so busy with Upward basketball lately that we’ve missed those slow, lazy beginnings when Kevin and I sleep in, take coffee upstairs, and sip and talk, and our kids curl up in the chairs in […]
349Mar 2, 2012
Sometimes, I’m thankful for autism. On days like Tuesday, when Riley jumps in the van and puts her fingers on my shoulder, waiting. When I look back at her and she smiles, words tumbling out, words like these, words that cut me sharp but leave her pristine: “Mom, today someone said a bad word at […]
350Feb 10, 2012
Thursday morning, I push a table knife right through the bottom of a glass jelly jar. Nothing shatters. Nothing cracks. The knife jabs in more deeply than it should. And turning the jar upward on a diagonal, I see the flat, silver, jelly-smeared tip of my knife jutting messy through a rounded, toothless gape, all […]