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Mowing in the Dark

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I knew I had procrastinated too long. The yard was a jungle. I had used every excuse to put off this task, but today was the day it must be done. The neighbors had all mowed. I had the lone unkempt, tall grassland on the block. I started late in the evening. Unfortunately, because I was cutting a jungle, it was slow going. Every few steps required that I slow down, raise the mower to blow out the grass, then repeat. By the time I got to the last section of my yard, the sun was setting quickly. When I was about half-way through that part, the only light was from the streetlight in the corner.  As I guess-mowed, I thought about light sources and mowing. ( I know, my brain is weird ) When I mow the yard in the sunlight, I can see well. It's easy to see where the grass needs to be cut and use that as a guide to know where to turn. I can see fallen twigs, the neighbor kid's nerf darts, and the wire from the old sprinkler head that I mowed over last time. In the sunlight I
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Reminders of His Goodness

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It wasn't twelve stones from a riverbed, but it was a reminder of God's miraculous work in my life. I stumbled across this memento while looking for a scripture to accompany a blog post. I reached for a small red Bible that was on the shelf above my computer. (I don't move things around much, this Bible had been there for a very long time). I was shocked when I thumbed through the pages. There was evidence to show that this Bible was given to me at my high school commencement service in 1984. There was an old Sunday School envelope with my maiden name and “high school” written in the blank for class. I had checked boxes for Present, Bible Brought, and Worship Attendance. This blast from the past took me back to a time when life was easy. I thought I had this Christianity stuff down pat. Fill out the envelope, check all the boxes, follow all the rules. Pretty easy right? As I turned a few more red-edged pages, another relic fell from its hiding place. Th
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Fear Not

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At the clap of thunder my dog Pumpkin came running. He jumped into my lap and climbed onto my shoulders. He is terrified of loud noises. (also leashes, any type of cord, and the vacuum cleaner). He shakes and pants until the noises stop. He doesn't trust me when I tell him its okay, he thinks the thunder (or the firework, the leash, or the vacuum cleaner) is going to get him. They say dogs and owners resemble each other. I'm not scared of thunder or fireworks (okay, maybe sometimes the vacuum cleaner). Sometimes, like Pumpkin, I am fearful. From one thunderstorm to the next, Pumpkin forgets that he is safe. He doesn't remember that the vacuum cleaner didn't eat him last time. I think that even though I have protected him before, he doubts that I can or will do it again. Sometimes life's circumstances are scary. A change in a relationship or a medical diagnosis  may startle us like a clap of thunder. Uncertainty in a job situation or in finances may send us
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Light in the Gap

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"You're going to make wrinkles in your forehead," the voice of my mother played in my mind as I walked out of the bus station. As part of a ministry called Light in the Gap , I had just been with a group who meet, visit, and pray with women just released from prison. Five days a week these newly-freed women come through the bus station in our town. From here they connect to cities all over Texas, where life on the outside awaits. The goal of this ministry is to fill this wait-for-the-bus gap with a smiling face, homemade cookies, a bag filled with items to help with a new start, a listening ear and a prayer. Connectors (women who go to the bus station to meet those just released) share the love of Jesus with those no-longer-prisoners as they step out of the prison van and into freedom.  Conversations with a few of the women this day weighed heavy on my mind. How in the world would they ever make it? It seemed the deck was stacked against them. I had a hard time envi
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Whatever!

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I couldn't believe my eyes. There it was. The popular expression that I was determined to eliminate from my children's vocabulary was printed in big bold letters across the front of my friend's t-shirt.  I couldn't ever imagine her using that exclamation, much less wearing it on her clothing. As I tried to process this troubling sight, I looked up to see her husband. He was wearing a matching shirt. Something was definitely wrong here.  Imagine my relief when my friend turned around and walked away from me. The back of her shirt explained it all:
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All Things?

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"I married him twice." The revelation of this shocking detail results in some interesting looks on the faces of those who hear it. Efforts to keep their jaws from dropping and their eyebrows from raising contort their countenances into some caricature-worthy expressions.  Usually this juicy bit of information is shared after the hearer knows the back story of betrayal and abuse experienced in my first (and consequently second) marriage. I imagine the thoughts that must be running through the listener's  mind. She looks smarter than that. What was she thinking? I bet she wishes she had that to do over again. The abbreviated version is this: I married the man of my dreams when I was nineteen.  The dream quickly became a nightmare. He was manipulative and abusive. He was addicted and criminal. I was naïve and stubborn; and thoroughly convinced I could love him enough to fix him. I was embarrassed and ashamed. I felt stupid.  When I was twenty-three he was
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Thirty-two?

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I miss this face. This little boy would be thirty-two years old today. It's been too long since I've seen him. It's been too long since I've seen that smile or heard that laugh. I wonder what grown-up Matthew would be like? I'm pretty sure the brown eyes would sill sparkle, and that crooked grin would still melt my heart. I'm pretty sure he would be protective of his sisters. What I don't know is what his teen-age and adult choices would have been. Were there some unpleasant consequences that he was spared from by being taken at the age of five? So many questions remain unanswered. What kind of young-man would he be? Kind-hearted? Most-likely. Generous? Probably so. Hard-headed? I'm pretty sure. Would his teenage and young adult years brought trouble? The hard answer is: probably so. This precious boy in his five short years witnessed domestic violence, and saw his dad arrested and imprisoned. As a young mother, I was overwhelmed and not the pa
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