bless the mamas
They mother the motherless, the mamas in this orphan village. The team that traveled to Jeremie, Haiti, the month before us went specifically to love on them. The photo of women washing the feet of women who wash feet nearly undid me. These mamas carry hearts heavy with Jesus. Though some bring their own children with them, many leave them in the care of others so they can spill love into the empty, into children with no mamas or papas. (One of the mamas is going to school to become a nurse.) They receive a small compensation along with room and board—likely pennies from our perspective. But how can mere money compare to their sacrifice? I’m writing about these mamas today over at BibleDude. Won’t you join me there and offer a prayer for...
the finger of God
I see God’s creative finger in all seasons. But never more, I think, than in the spring when life unfurls. These are the days when all that glitters is green. Yet life is sometimes blood-tinged like the color of death in this new leaf. That also carries the color of hope. Because life is in the blood, and as long as there’s life, there’s hope. I’ve been thinking a lot about the “finger of God.” I’m sharing over at BibleDude today. It’s a little disjointed. But then so is life sometimes. I’d be honored if you’d join me there. Still...
and then i jump
I brush the hair from my mouth and eyes, pull hands up into sweatshirt sleeves, and lean into the wind as we trudge up the path. We gather under the pavilion to struggle into harnesses, clip heavy ropes to anchor loops, tighten helmets. I feel much less brave than I did when I signed up for this little Nebraska adventure. It was just a momentary lapse in judgment. I’ve never dreamed of doing this. Not really. Anyway, it’s Still Saturday. I should simply be still. We dodge piles of deer doo in the field as we make our way to the platform. The platform that towers to the heavens—at least 12 times my height. And there’s only one way up. Follow me over to BibleDude and meet up in the comments there? I’ve cleared the path… Still...
when you think you’re just josiah
We’re at Steak ‘n Shake. “Takhomasak,” gleams the neon sign over the counter. It was years before I “got” it. I’d frown. “Tahk’-oh-mah’-sak.” I’d say it slow. I’d say it fast. It sounded Japanese. “Car, table, counter, or takhomasak?” Ooooh. “Take home a sack.” Duh! I’d stressed the wrong spots. Dennis and I spoon chocolate malt from a shared glass. The cherry is mine. And most of the whipped cream. I sense a slight stroke in a few strands of my hair and a light tickle on my shoulder. I hear a woman whisper, “Sit down.” Read what happened next over at BibleDude. I’ll get some more spoons. Stilled by His...
time to stand and stare
It’s the morning after the morning we remembered the mourning and celebrated the Morning. D has risen early again, because it’s Monday and time to move into a new week of busyness as usual. I want to burrow down under white down, but there’s a light that shines in the dark, and I hear him move about the room. He bends over to kiss me goodbye. I won’t see him again until bedtime. Dawn’s smearing rose on Horizon’s lips when I flip back the covers. Downstairs, I press the power buttons on computer and coffeepot, then go down another level to add a log to the fire. Back at the kitchen table with a steamy mug, I check messages from my Facebook prayer group. Then my calendar. I breathe deep. Try not to choke. Follow me to BibleDude.net for the rest of this...
pondering a fall
She’d just climbed up and in when it fell apart and down. The neighbor man made it for my mother-in-love and her sister when they were young. “The last girl to get married,” he said, “gets to keep it.” Mom gave the set to us shortly after our wedding. That bed’s enfolded guests, our daughter, us, and now the grandgirl has claimed it. She even carved her name in the headboard to seal the deal. We’re not too happy about that. I was living in the hospice house with my mom when my husband accidentally locked a cat in that room. For two days. We had to throw the mattress out. I’m sharing the rest of this meandering story over at BibleDude.net today. It includes stuff about smoke, the pope, and humility. Won’t you join me there, maybe...
in which my week spins and i center
I’m curled up with my cream-colored plush throw to read in preparation for a High Calling book club discussion, when my daughter-in-law calls. My son’s vertigo is back, and he’s begging to go to the emergency room. I sigh. Not again. When it happens, it happens out of the blue and keeps him down for a week. “Keep us posted,” we tell her. I try to focus on “A New Story for Work” and “the gospel and medicine” and how doctors sometimes tend to get lost in their profession and how we tend to idolize them. I remember how as student nurses we were required to give up our seat in the charting area if a doctor entered the station. My husband’s phone rings. “We need to go to the ER,” he tells me. Continuing the rest of this story over at...
Meet Sandy
Spend–and Give!
Tuesdays. Here.
April 19-21, 2013 (past but not forgotten)
American Christian
Fiction Writers
Follow Me!