Tweet The Willy Wonka movie thrills me. I mean, seriously, who doesn’t want to be able to eat grass and gorge themselves on all things candy? But more than that, I’m taken with the vibrant colors and things in that big room that make my eyes pop. What imagination! I want to walk in that room and smell the chocolate and swim in the river! I encourage my children to use their imagination, to make thingsread more…
Tweet I have four kids. And it’s not like I have four kids under the age of 5 which makes me pert near stroke out at the thought. No, I have four kids that span 12 years. You see, I have a 14 year old. Beautiful, smart, funny and FOURTEEN. This one: yeah I had this one after the first one 17 months later. Witty, caring, bright, faithful. Just kill me now. And 7 years later…read more…
Tweet I live in America. Land of the free, home of the brave. Wouldn’t trade it for the world. But, like all things, there are flaws in this here land. Before you click away, this is not a political post. This is a spirit-chul post, even though it is one that has to do with ‘merica. As much as I love my country, what it stands for, what it is, there are cultural things in thisread more…
Tweet It’s not easy being perfect, believe me. In fact, it’s exhausting. Quite exhausting. Overwhelming. Ridiculous. But, feels like it’s the right thing to strive for when things get crazy. I lose footing and scramble to make it up. The last 2.5 years have been very hard. Not like, I’m-being-persecuted-hard, but more like My-life-has-changed-more-times-than-my-hair-color hard. It started with our decision to leave the church we loved, start a business and try something new. Followed up withread more…
Tweet When I’m sitting somewhere where I can just people watch, a sickness rises up in me. I am secretly looking through the masses to see if someone, anyone will trip and/or fall. I just want to see one person do that trip-over-the-invisible-bump-and-look-back-at-what-isn’t-there thing. I know. Sick. But, let’s be honest, the show Wipeout is designed for people like me. I honestly can’t imagine that there might be people out there who do not think Wipeoutread more…
Tweet I have to admit, there was a silent sigh of relief many years ago when I realized that God had made me a Sender. Shew! I didn’t have to “go” anywhere. But reality soon sets in. Being a Sender is no small task. It’s purposeful, deliberate, challenging, time consuming …and I have failed miserably at it. However, as I sit and think back over the last eight years from that Perspectives course, I can see how God deepenedread more…
Tweet When people ask me what I do outside of being a mom, you know, what’s my passion, my heart’s cry, I usually say things that range from being a speaker to a Bible teacher to even a writer. All of which is true. I’d say it and really try to believe that yes, that was my calling. However, in all my years of describing myself that way it never rang deep and true in meread more…
Tweet Their house was huge. Four stories. Four. It was magical, fascinating, timeless. Huge open living room with widows that spanned the entire house, overlooking a lake. Dark, creepy basement that held treasures of old architect drawings and smelled like a library. Furniture so amazing in the 60′s, I’d love to have it now. I can still see every room, make out the familiar patterns of the fabulous and wild wallpaper choices. I can hear the doorsread more…
Tweet Oh God! I read this and was stopped in my tracks. Jeremiah 22:16 “Is that not what it means to know me?” What? Where did that come from? How have in my 30+ years of following Jesus did I not see this before? Too consumed with Jeremiah 29:11 just a few chapters to the right, maybe? I went through my Bible looking up Scripture that had to do with the poor, oppressed, widowed, orphaned andread more…
Tweet “Mom.” “Mom.” “Mom?” “Mom!” “MOM!!” Usually when this happens I am reading a book, typing on some sort of computer gadget or watching TV. Something happens to my ears when I am engaged in an activity that requires even the slightest amount of focus. The electrical things that go from my ears to my brain to say, “Hey, someone is talking to you and it’s your kid.” is somehow shut off. I can hear them.read more…
