12.3.12 | ADVENT
“How many more days?” You ask again over breakfast. Five-year-old feet swing bare, pink, in morning sun beneath the planked table. I crane to see the patchwork of days, etched black and white on the kitchen wall. We count again.
Together. At the finishing, you scowl. Swipe your pink sleeve, cuff to elbow with milk from a perfect pout. Mumble. It will never come. {READ MORE…}
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11.14.12 | THE {NOT SO} QUIET TIME COMPANION
I know what it’s like to rise early to spend time in the Word, only to meet an overly exuberant child with bed head and an agenda before you’re halfway down the hall. I know that feeling of guilt when you realize you’re running like mad, and on empty. And then there are those mornings when you can’t find anything to write with but broken crayons and your devotional book is…around here somewhere. This has been my story too. {READ MORE…}
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6.27.12 | WHEN YOU CAN’T FIND QUIET OR TIME
Standing at the kitchen sink, just before noon, and I can almost hear it – the splintering of a day. She sulks loudly underfoot and I pretend not to notice until I can’t pretend anymore. The sound of my own impatience splitting the air tells me it’s time to retreat. We’re not merrily rowing along. We’ve run aground. When the early morning clock jarred, I bolted, not for Bread but bustle, and now the soul snarls faint with hunger pangs. {READ MORE…}
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6.7.12 | FOR THE ANXIOUS
“Let us look at him (God) in the face of Jesus Christ; for He is the express image of his person, and he that hath seen Him hath seen the Father. The knowledge of that gracious character, as interpreted by the cross of Christ, is the true remedy for our disquietness…”
{READ MORE…}
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5.28.12 | WHEN THE VOW BREAKS…AND IT WILL
Depths must laugh loud when we broken blurt bold at altars in black and white. Pledge wholly holy in choreography and candlelight. State it loud and true:
We don’t vow because we’re strong. We vow because we aren’t. Frail cleaving to fallen.
{READ MORE…}
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5.25.12 | SAY YES
I lean in to listen, gulping babe in arms, at the kitchen table. It’s coming – thing that I dread. Hissing contraband on carpet tells me so. Inward I groan and shift in the chair. Across the threshold it sails -
veritable tanker of toys, rubbermaid raft, propelled by a four-year old on mission. { READ MORE…}
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5.24.12 | DOING LIFE TOGETHER
Her smile and her life say welcome.
I often wonder if she knew what her yes would really mean. She’s not hosting a quiet ladies tea. We’re a rag-tag bunch, piling in each week with a litter of littles in tow. We fill her floors with crumbs, her ears with stories, and her trash can with diapers. {READ MORE…}
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5.18.12 | THE LIST
I adjust the mirror. Steal a glance. She’s close enough to touch and miles away. Brooding eyes meet mine, then dart. The light is gone – spilled in the plunge. She tripped and fell on the way to the car, not on rocks or roots but words. My words. Again. {READ MORE…}
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5.16.12 | KNIT FOR AFRICA
Faces flash – a multitude. A sea of sorrow. A symphony of suffering.Small, he held some loaves and fishes. Small, I hold some twine and time. Both, in the hands of Jesus can nourish a multitude. {READ MORE…} *************************************************************************************************
5.14.12 | HOW A MOMMA CAN ABIDE
How can a Momma press into Him when the day is pressing in on her?Hear Spirit’s whisper in the wild whirl? Stay intwined when she’s all but unwound? I’m asking. HE’s answering. Not all at once. Little by little. Such grace…Open blinds and curtains to morning sun. Whisper thanks that He is light and in Him there is no darkness at all. (1 John 1:5) Pour coffee and pack lunches. Pray that we will labor today with the energy that GOD provides. (1 Peter 4:11) Fill bottles and sippy cups. Plead for little ones to crave the pure spiritual milk of the Word. (1 Peter 2:2 {READ MORE…}*************************************************************************************************
5.11.12 | MOTHERING IN LIGHT OF THE GOSPEL
Before our firstborn greeted us, all rosy and regal that Autumn morning, I was convinced I knew more about mothering than I do this morning. My dreams for our days together had gestated for nine months and as my belly blossomed, so did my confidence in my own ability to parent. After all, I’m a planner. If there was a book, I read it. If there was a class, I went. I was prepared. Fast forward 48 hours to our first night at home. I will never forget the moment I realized that this curious little creature had not read the books. I was following the script. She had her own agenda and boosting mommy’s confidence was not it. {READ MORE…}
5.10.12 | LISTENING IN THE LITANY
Sometimes a day is sunshine -
A birds-are-singing, barefoot-in-the-grass, giggle-til-your-belly- aches,
kind of day. We laugh loud. We listen long. We love like Jesus. Sometimes a day dawns tattered,
unravelled before it’s half-hatched. Sometimes there are tears before breakfast. Sometimes I cause them.
Sometimes they are mine. We snag on splinters and sarcasm. {READ MORE...}
