Easter - Fine Linen

Medals

Mother’s Day - Psalm 139 for Moms

1-O Lord, Thou hast searched me, and known me. It is good that You don’t have to search for me, Lord—some days I feel like I can’t even find myself, much less my kids. … read more.

Ham for the Holidays

A year of furlough. Three kids, 3 and under (they were 3; we were under). Add a van, clothes for all seasons, toys, diapers, iron and board, tricycle, sleeping gear, cooler, diapers, music tapes, car seats (3), (did I mention diapers?), earplugs. Destination: 70 churches, spanning the United States. It was a year of blessing and busyness, and by December we were feeling a little foggy and in need of some T.L.C. … read more.

Every Day is Mother’s Day

She tapped the desk with her pencil. "So, you'd like to apply for the job?"

"Yes," I said, fidgeting with my purse … read more.

Excuse Me, But You Have Something Green On Your Thumb

She stood there, gripping the chain saw as it rumbled eagerly in the early morning fog. The fingers of her other hand curled around a pitchfork handle. The plants watched.....waited, quaking in their roots.

… read more.

Who’s In the Driver’s Seat?

The time: 10:00 p.m., New Year's Eve
The place: on a street outside a very crowded public parking area, in an unsavoury part of town
The mission: to find, among the cars hugging the curb, one spot large enough to admit a van, and, upon finding that spot, to practice parallel parking. … read more.

What’s in Store for the Unsuspecting Shopper?

It was too good to be true. I couldn't possibly just walk into the store, pick up the four simple items I needed, find a line with fewer than 28 people, and leave. I don't know who organizes those places (and I'm sure to be stepping on someone's toes), but this has bothered me for quite awhile. … read more.

Dead-Ended On Memory Lane

I have a theory about altitude and memory loss. This phenomenon occurs in women living in a dwelling with stairs, and mostly in women who do laundry. Each time you go upstairs, you are either going to or from the washing machine, right? As your ascent increases in altitude, your brain receives less oxygen, and brain cells explode. Likewise, the intense pressure put on the cells by descending into--say, a basement--is terribly detrimental to the memory (this can be compounded by the number of laundrophobiacs living in the home). An extreme case has been cited where a woman with ten children lived on the 18th floor of an elevatorless apartment building. Because of her slow ascent/descent (the laundry was on the 1st floor), you could literally hear her memory cells exploding like bubble-pack. … read more.

Hallmark Holidays

For several Christmases we were the recipients of a well-favored spruce, donated by a tree farmer in our small church. After wrestling the tree into the tree stand, and digging out all the boxes marked "Christmas", we set to work. … read more.

Just Say “Cheese”!

Family pictures...aren't they great! I'm not talking about those "I caught you cleaning the oven without your three layers of make up!" shots. Those are quick--painless. You can laugh at them on the way home from the Foto Factory. They're you. At your worst. At your best. They're real.
I'm talking about formal family photos. . . the stare down at you from the wall kind. The kind where everyone looks like they just couldn't possibly dream of doing anything more fun-filled, and exhilarating than what they are doing right now in that picture. The ones more akin to, say, having a root canal done. Without pain-killers. That special moment that brings families together--sitting down or standing up, in the same room, and quiet. (A feat to be recorded in the annals of each family history). A photographer's dream. A mother's nightmare. … read more.

Eek! A Mouse

Somehow, the house was quiet, almost as if everyone were gone. Is this actually possible? Maybe "the children were nestled all snug in their beds," or some natural disaster had required that everyone be evacuated. Anyway, I sat at the computer--alone. A half-eaten manuscript clung to the screen. This was my big chance to type longer than one consecutive minute. Except now there was no one there to give me help. … read more.

Devotions For Women - The Sin-monger’s Cart

Morning rays tugged the shadows from the sleeping forms in the street. A wheel creaked...a dog barked. One of the shapes moved and sat up. "Hurry--it's the sin-monger!" she cried. Then, all around her they rose and waited until the creaking was incessant and the cart crept into view.

… read more.

I Survived Y2K

We're well into the new millennium--give or take a few years. Your eyes have finally adjusted to the sunlight? Only a short while ago, you were safely ensconced in your bunker, (your Y2K survival kit close by, solar panels firmly in place) concocting those roots-and-berries casseroles. (You did remember the solar panels, didn't you?) And none of it hurt a bit. Or did it? … read more.

Get a Handle on Your Hands

I will never have to worry about someone running up to me and pleading, "We need you to be our next hand model-- oh please, please consider this offer and let us know immediately." My hands have spent too many years inappropriately attired . Should have worn rubber gloves while washing dishes and diapers (pre-disposable era). Should have worn garden gloves while weeding (who can get all those roots, though). Should have worn winter gloves at the first hint of a cold front (but then I'd need a pair in each coat to keep from losing them). But alas-maybe for me it is not too late. Which is why I read, with interest, the article on how to make my hands soft and beautiful-looking (I took note that it did not purport youthfulness). … read more.