Best Friends Forever! by Annie Rim

When we moved into this neighborhood, we couldn’t have known what awaited us, just across the street. If we had been able to include neighbor profiles in our search criteria, I couldn’t have imagined better. A family with a daughter, just a few months younger than our oldest? How perfect! Now, hardly a day goes by without these girls yelling out windows, running into open garages, insisting on playdates. They...

Is it time to receive your commission?

I, Paul, and my companions in faith here, send greetings to the Galatian churches. My authority for writing to you does not come from any popular vote of the people, nor does it come through the appointment of some human higher-up. It comes directly from Jesus the Messiah and God the Father, who raised him from the dead. I’m God-commissioned. Galatians 1:1-2 Message We are going to a commissioning. We’re...

May – the month of memories and moms

When my brother and I were kids, May 1st was when we were allowed to go barefoot. I don’t know what it was that my brother liked about going barefoot through the cool, damp grass but he would peck at dad with his questioning of ‘when?’ like a hen pecks at the dirt.  Daddy’s answer was always the same: May 1st. I think if we’d had a freak snow storm...

Are you living in or out of the box?

The prompt for photography class is outside the box. hmmm Nothing came to mind. Only questions. How do I do that in a still life class? Does she mean shoot something not still life? Do I get literal and silly and take a photo of something outside of a box? Oh, how I can complicate the simplest of instructions. I want more information. Tell me exactly what you mean, what...

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...

My momentary attack of brave (and hoping it stays)

I had a sudden attack of brave last week. The day I turned…six oh. (That’s much easier to type.) It’s left me now, that brave person who decided to face real life and not pretend. The me that wondered how will I do this in a way that conquers my fear, the me that had an ounce of determination to just do it! I posted this on Instagram: Today, not...

When housework makes you think…too much

I still look for it to be hanging there next to the broom and sponge mop I don’t use anymore. Then I remember and grab the Swifter and fasten a dusting cloth to it. Do you remember dust mops? Do you even remember rag mops? They were nasty to use, reaching down to wring the thick cords of fiber with your bare hand, wringing out all of that dirty water....

Giving myself grace to linger

I tell myself it will wait. To linger a bit longer here where there is no office and the sunshine streams bright through the windows. The piped-in music is soft enough and generic enough to accompany and not conflict. A quiet tumble of voices nearby are speaking life and activity. Some are hurrying through and others lingering like me. I wonder what they are avoiding by the extra moments spent...

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...