Showing posts from March, 2012


Generally, this isn't a word to describe me.  I'm a fan of quiet, and its many variations.  Relaxed.  Gentle.  Whispering.  Soothing.  Loud usually isn't what I go for.  Unless it's music.  Or laughter.  Or joy.  Those I like in wild, raucous stretches.

But these days, the only things that have been loud in my life are those I'd like to mute for awhile.  Things like sadness.  Fear.  Dissatisfaction.

I try, I really do, to make the joy louder than the not-joy.  Positive thoughts.  Scripture truths.  Prayer.  Rest.  Ice cream :-).  

But my attempts to follow all the right steps, to hush up these not-joy-noises work about as well as Christian-bumper-sticker-slogan bandaids.  They don't really cure the problem.  Actually, the fact that they don't help only adds to the angst.  Makes it even louder.  Almost unbearably so.

In the moments when those other noise-makers are drowning out what I so long to hear, I must remember.  No, I have to remember this:  Sorrow's …

Making a Little Room

Tonight, I had the delicious opportunity to reconnect with a friend over dinner.  Our time together reminded me about one of my favorite qualities in a person—a trait that this friend possesses in abundance:  the ability (and willingness) to ask great questions.  The kinds of questions that create room for meandering conversations about what we’re thinking and feeling, doubting and believing.
Our conversation uncovered, I think, one reason behind this new adventure that is shadowwonder:  I long for those kinds of conversations, and that longing is part of my DNA.  It simply will not be ignored for any real length of time.   For proof, just ask my husband.  :-) 
It’s true:  I have things to say.  But I also relish the opportunity to listen.
Obviously, I’m the one here who’s done most of the talking so far.  But I constantly find myself wanting to hear from you.  Partly to know a little about the people who are dropping by my little spot in blog-land.  (And thank you, by the way.  Your vi…


I’m in the middle of my Spring Break.  The holiday is questionably titled, since the calendar says it’s still winter.  Thankfully, though, the weather has graciously cooperated.  

I’m taking full advantage—avoiding all unnecessary planning, doing a few chores here and there, dropping by a few favorite shops, walking Huckleberry the dog, and pretending my kids are on their break too (even though theirs isn’t for another 10 days or so).  For better or worse, I can’t bring myself to take homework duty too seriously this week.

I’ve also had opportunities for long, lingering conversations with a few friends—something my work schedule doesn’t usually allow.  A sort of friendship-feast, if you will, that included coffee, laughter, and a blessed absence of the distractions that come with children (though we do love 'em!). 
What makes me so grateful for these relationships is the opportunity to reflect on the brighter spots in our lives as well as our passages through shadowy places.  You kn…


I’ve always thought of HOPE as JOY’s synonym or perhaps a close cousin.
Being called to HOPE-fullness means being of good cheer.  Optimistic.  Unfazed by the potential for pain.  Able to see the half-full glass.  Willing to celebrate the silver lining, no matter how delicate its glimmer.
My attempts at such HOPE are, at best, meager.  Paltry.  Characterized by less-than-JOY.
Maybe because someone forgot to say this: 
A call to HOPE is a call to WAIT 
for a need to be met;              for a dream to be realized; 
         for a goal to be accomplished;
for a destination to be reached.
And a call to WAIT is a call to be PATIENT.
When I imagine the face of patience, I see a smile both gentle and understanding.  I think of warmth.  I think of certainty.
The patient face I envision reflects no acquaintance with pain.
(Patience.  So lovely to encounter in others.  So difficult to demonstrate myself.)
Yet its Latin root, “pati,” doesn’t reference gentleness, or warmth, or certainty.
To be patient is …