A different kind of love letter
Divinely sent inspiring words
One of the most frequent searches that leads people to my blog is "words of encouragement…". Sometimes other words are attached–death of a loved one, when a child loses their mom/dad, etc.–and when I stumble across these, I always...
When tragedy knocked, hope answered the door
Following the heart-breaking death of their 17-year-old son in a car accident a week ago, Jamie and Scott are responding with grace, dignity, humility, strength and life-giving faith. Their daughter, Emily, is, too. If this had happened to me, it is...
Mojo? Mojo? Wherefore art thou, Mojo?
All last week I was trying to figure out what time it was after hitting a wall, then in the wee hours of Saturday, we received tragic news. Perhaps it is a combination of the two that I now find myself in the unfamiliar position of having a thousand stories...
We get by with a little help from our friends…
When I traveled to India with our team of Compassion bloggers last week, I felt like Lance Armstrong. It wasn't just me pedaling a bike along the Champs-Élysée, there were a host of friends–online and off–cheering me on in prayer, thought and...
Surreality
Our family, school and community are reeling today following the tragic accident last night that took the life of one of my childrens’ friends and leaves another fighting for his life in intensive care. Ryan Gill had just celebrated his 17th birthday....
Because it’s stormy and sometimes levity is just what the doctor ordered
Friday morning brought storms to to the Tennessee Valley, and the subsequent patio pitter-patter prompted a grin-induced memory ~ Because kids do say the darndest things and they don’t have a filter for what’s appropriate to repeat in public, as a mom...
Good, night
The movement is mechanical and routine, one whose repetitions could be calculated if any point would be served in doing so. There's not. Water fills the carafe to just over eight cups, an unnecessarily-bleached filter is nested into place, and I...
Fire in hand
Kolkata, India, April 2009. She's not learning karate for kicks; she's learning it to defend herself. On first glance in the last picture, it looks like she's wearing a ring; it's actually a glowing ember. Compassion...
Typos, schmypos
This morning as I’m sipping My Precious–a steaming cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee, the thing I missed most last week after my husband and kids–I’m also drinking a companion cup of Bittersweet. One of my oldest and most entertaining blogging...