The never ending, always expanding, role of mothering

There was something about the role of mothering that came natural to me. It started, perhaps, as granny mothered me in times I only know through photographs. Mama was in seminary where they couldn’t take their kids in those days. Daddy was pastoring a church while mama finished so granny filled the gap and so began a relationship that would keep us connected for long enough for her to see...

What if this were my prayer?

What if this were my prayer? thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank...

The grace of giving from enough

I can count on one hand the number of times we saw grandma Durham. I remember visiting her and grandpa in California when I was 5 or 6. We drove from Louisiana or Arkansas, wherever we were living at the time, in a station wagon that I think we slept in at least one night. My memory focuses on the cots spread out in the field behind their house, across the...

Transition ahead: Slow down!

She wanted to sleep in but sleeping in for me means 7, maybe 7:30, not 10. I pulled out the art supplies, tried to entice her in learning to draw a butterfly with a few lines when she said, “Can I paint?” Yes! yes, you can paint. This will be good. This is what I envisioned for the week she’d be with us during her spring break. We’d spend a couple...

This is what’s saving my life this month

It sounds dire and like the most serious thing there is when you say ‘this is what’s saving my life’. Yes, perhaps it’s a little dramatic. But then again, maybe these things are  saving us more than realize. If this is your first time to my blog, know that the only one who can literally save my life is Jesus. He saves me. Every. Day. There are a few things that...

Delighting in the strength around me when I’m weak

Tell me the story simply, As to a little child, For I am weak and weary, And helpless and defiled. It isn’t the body that is weak but the spirit. Tired and weary as the old hymn says. Made weak from the news, real and fake, weak from uncertainty, and even weak from caring. But I take heart in the strength of Jesus. He puts others in my life to...

Finding a tender companion to grief at Christmastime

More catalogs and advertisements are filling our mailbox this time of year. Tucked between Golf Digest, an ad for car sales and one actual Christmas card was the Mrs. Fields catalog. They come around holidays and are tossed in the recycle bin with old newspapers and unwanted ads. I glanced at it thinking, when have I ordered Mrs. Fields cookies and then I remembered. The past few years that mom...

Why I, WE, need Thanksgiving

Because when it’s not on my to-do list or calendar I forget It can’t be the best thing to admit I forget to be thankful. I say thank-you. Mama raised us to have polite manners, after all. But I forget to BE thankful. To carry specific thoughts of the litany of reasons to give thanks to God. If we didn’t have a whole day with it spelled out on the...