I long to be the one who makes you smile. From deep within me is a person who wants to be that somebody who makes every person feel like a somebody. I really do want to be an encourager, but far too often I leave a conversation thinking about what I wish I had said. …
When I was young I hated peas. You can ask my Mom and she will tell you that she still remembers me shuffling peas around my plate for what seemed like an hour, trying to make it look like I had actually eaten some of the green balls of goo. While it never bothered me if…
It’s not complicated, really. These three things that seem to have so little in common bring back a flood of memories. Memories can take us back to places we sometimes need to revisit. Maybe it was a time that you learned a lesson the hard way, or maybe it was just an epiphany moment that…
It’s not that I don’t love a beautiful table. I do. Really I do. I have white dishes just so I can create a table setting for any season just by adding colorful napkins and a centerpiece. (I’m practical that way.) It is a joy for me to put together the pieces, adding a touch…
That song. You know–the one you can’t get it out of your head–and yet, you don’t really want to. “You’re a Good, Good Father, it’s Who You are…” “…And I’m loved by You, it’s who I am.” [Chris Tomlin] Being a parent is the hardest, most rewarding job on the planet, and the reality is–…
Oh yes you did. You rolled your eyes. And covered your face. And eagerly walked away from the one who carried you for nine months– and has carried you ever since. The hugs you once demanded are becoming rare, now that you think you’re “too old” for Mom’s affection. But time is slipping away, and…
Physical touch is a love language that I struggle with. I love to cuddle my grand-babies, but in the adulting world, I am not known to be a big “hugger”. You know the kind of person I’m talking about–that opens her arms and hugs every person with abandon? Yeah, I’m not her, but I have…
Despite the not-so-uncommon view that the hope of this world is found in politics or prosperity or possessions, one brush with eternity, and your perspective can change in a heartbeat. Hope has a name: His name is Jesus. When our youngest was in junior high, he started complaining about pain in the side of his…
In a follow-up to my last post, Whatever You Do, Parents… , I am sharing the first of three things that I want my children (and others) to see in me because of my relationship with God. The world that I grew up in was very different from today. Much of society valued church attendance…
We are finishing up 31 Days of Proverbs today! I can’t help but feel some trepidation over this chapter. So much has been written on Proverbs 31 and the “virtuous woman” that I struggle to begin. I don’t think I’m alone when I say that when I read this chapter I can feel inadequate. Go…
One of the ways that I enjoy showing love is to give gifts. Not expensive gifts, but simple, thought out gifts that say to the person, “I love you” or “I am thinking of you.” My eleven grandchildren flock to me for that one piece of gum or the tic tac that Nana always has waiting…
Marriage is a partnership. “For better or worse” you said. (Or maybe you didn’t and should have!) Entering this commitment of a lifetime, you most likely underestimated how big and how hard this choice really is… When I said, “I do”, I already knew that this man I was choosing had made a commitment to full-time…
There is no perfect parent. Period. We would be so much healthier and happier in the process if we would just realize that it’s our humanity that reveals our need for the kind of help that every parent longs for. And that looking for help can be healthy. There are over 70,000 parenting books for…
This very special post was on my daughter’s Facebook. I just had to share it with you, with the hope that it will help get the message out, help bring awareness to the need for Foster Families, and answer a question that so many ask. May is National Foster Care Month. We often get questions…
These are not soft hands. They are tough and worn and calloused. Eighty years of use. I’m sure I did, but I don’t remember holding my Dad’s hand when I was small. We never had a Daddy-Daughter dance. Unless dancing around important topics counts. You see, my Dad is not much on words or sentiment.…
