Sunday, May 26, 2013

summer. love.


Summer’s here.
I’m for that.
Got my rubber sandals.
Got my straw hat.
Drinking cold [root] beer. J
I’m just glad that it’s here.

Summer’s here.
That suits me fine.
It may rain today, but I don’t mind.
It’s my favorite time of the year, and I’m glad that it’s here.
--James Taylor


The last few days have found me taking lots of deep breaths.  It’s summer.  Finally!  I love how looking ahead doesn’t reveal much more than days that stretch out like the horizon in the Texas panhandle.   For me, these first, fresh days of early summer are the most delicious time of the year.

And, being partly a planner, I’m finding myself starting mental lists of various projects I’d like to accomplish.   Housecleaning, gardening, reading, games . . . . . If I started planning now, I could get oh-so-so much done.  I mean, 90 days is a long time, right?

But I really have to be careful about that, since my well-developed tendency to overschedule can end up causing its fair share of problems.  And, as a mom friend mentioned on the last day of school, I’m mostly looking forward to this: simply not rushing.  So I need to carefully, prayerfully consider just what things land on the “to-do” list, if the slow pace is going to actually happen.

There is one thing, though, that I’m determined to include during the break.  More to come on that very soon.  But in the meantime, what projects are you considering?  Or (maybe more importantly), what sorts of things would you like to leave off your to-do list?

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

the oops


It all started as an accident. 

An accident that somehow became an opportunity I’d been quietly hoping for.

Let me explain:

Weekends often find me making a quick visit to gypsymama.com, home of Five Minute Fridays and brainchild of Lisa-Jo Baker.  I simply love her weekly invitation to creativity, and I so admire her willingness to create a place for women to be heard and to encourage each another in our writing.  If you scroll through my blog, you’ll notice that more than a handful of posts have been inspired by her amazing one-word topics.

On this particular December morning, I went to the site, read the prompt, set the timer, and began typing.  Nothing particularly new.

But when the 5 minutes were up, I realized I’d put words to some fears I didn’t even know had been lurking in my mind. 

[Sidebar:  During graduate school, my thesis director had the irritating habit of “encouraging” me with this mantra:  “Writing is an act of discovery.”  Well, I have to admit it.  He was right.  The act of writing often works to illuminate the shadowiest fringes of my mind or the remotest corners of my soul.  Putting words on paper can give a long-awaited voice to ideas, hopes, worries, and dreams I wasn’t even aware of.  One friend even equates writing with prayer, which I find to be true sometimes.  More on that later.}

Now, back to the accident.

Excited about my little five-minute piece, I decided to link it to the website.  Until I realized that my still-glazed early-morning eyes had misunderstood the word “Go” (which is the cue to actually start writing) for that week’s topic, which was “Opportunity.” 

Oops.

“Oh well,” I thought as I saved the document and headed to work.

A few weeks later, I took a nervous breath and sent that same piece to another favorite site—one that offers daily encouragement to women as they walk out their faith in the day-to-day.  Appropriately, it’s called (in)courage.com.  I hope you’ll visit there soon. 

In fact, how about now?  Just click here.

Because (lo and behold!) they decided to feature my little “accident” on their site.  
 
I hope you'll make a visit, tell your friends, leave a comment, and (most importantly) celebrate the unexpected, accidental ways God works in our lives.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Silent


Sometimes the holy ground crumbles right where I’m standing.

Questions come.  Answers elude.

Outcomes aren’t what I’d hoped for, prayed for, worked for.

Relationships strain, tempers flare, voices’ volume rises.

Hot tears sear cheeks.

Prayers for peace, for provision, for patience, for presence go unanswered.

Face and heart harden.

The needle rips across the vinyl, stops the soundtrack, does its damage.

Now, soul-deep disappointment settles in like a storm, brooding.