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An Eye On Home

I was sitting on the front porch when Roxy and Sable started sniffin’ the air. Instantly the rain came at a downpour, even leaking through a few of the boards overhead. I scooped Roxy up and ran inside.

Sable looked at me with weepy baby browns. “You’re not making me go home in this are you?” 

As I curled up in my favorite chair, both dogs ran circles of delight around each other that they’d found shelter from the storm. I propped the heavy front door open but kept the storm door closed so I could enjoy any outside light that snuck in.

Sable appeared right at my feet when I went to make a cup of coffee. I practically …

Grace…There’s an App for That

A few years ago I got one of those pink-sherbet colored phones. What a loss when I couldn’t catch her before she took a nosedive into the pool during Eli’s swimming lesson. A few months later, my replacement phone literally jumped from my back pocket and into the toilet bowl (pre-anything, I promise). Then after purchasing  a cool new iPhone, I placed it in the cup holder where a bottle of water had spilled overnight. It wasn’t until I pulled into the office and picked up my phone that I realized it was dripping…and dead.

Late Sunday we were driving home to Nashville from Georgia. Instead of putting my iPhone on my lap, I sleepily put it into a half …

God Has Not Left the Building

Recently I had a migraine. Often I have to take a pill, go to a quiet spot, and lie down before I find any relief.

I thought I’d find that relief in my bed but no sooner did I lie down that Roxy curled up at my feet. She doesn’t require much so I didn’t shoo her away. Then came Regi who wanted to watch the Olympics from his favorite spot. Next, and wouldn’t you know it, Eli decided to plop down between us. All we needed was Sophie to complete the moment, but she was dealing with a sinus infection and wouldn’t be showing up to the party.

Silence was nowhere to be found. Regi was cheering on the …

Are You Barely Hanging On?

It’s been one of those weeks. Busy, yet quiet. Full, yet empty.

Sophie, Morgan, Eli, Hannah and I joined Regi at an engagement in Pensacola Beach over Memorial Day weekend. Friends, family and the beach: the perfect way to begin our summer. When we returned, I thought for sure some magical fairies would have packed for me. They didn’t and now my house is a wreck. Open boxes, sealed plastic containers, to-be-purged pile, and to-be-stored pile all growing by the minute. I simply want to close on Point A so that we can get to Point B. I’m done with where I’ve been, ready to move on.

Ever feel like you’re barely holding on?

My favorite day over the weekend …

A Brown Paper Bag

Something waits below the mundane of taking the kids to school, heading to the gym, sitting at a desk wishing you were home—do you see it? It’s called purpose. Sometimes you must search for the intention behind the action, but I assure you, it’s there.

For me it’s as though a Mack truck pulls into my driveway and blasts, “Can you hear me now,” because more often than not, I’m too busy to listen.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

It’s so much easier when you stop and listen.

Eli forgot his lunch last week. I didn’t notice the bag in the refrigerator until he called at 10:55 asking if I would bring it to him. There’s no chance he would buy what the …

Risking All To Walk On Water

We put our house on the market Thursday. By Sunday, we had two offers. Monday brought one more. I’m reminded of my pastor’s sermon two weeks ago on Risk Faith and Courage—was he talking about For Sale signs as well? MY plan was: find out about a change in schools by Friday, put the house on the market the following Monday, and then by the end of next week, have the house sold! However, in spite of the first answer taking longer than planned, we decided to go ahead and stake the sign in the front. I liken it to sticking my toe into a creek to see the temperature, not ready to jump in yet.

For the first …

Show Me Your Scar, I’ll Show You Mine

I have scars.

I got one recently after I cooked lunch for some friends. In the rush to have everything on the table at the same time, I burned my hand as I took bread out of the oven. It didn’t hurt until the next day. A puffy little blister, sore to the touch; I knew it would leave a mark.

There’s more. If you look closely, you can still see the faded triangle between my left calf and shin from the fifth grade when I tried to officiate a fight between two German Shepherds. On my other shin, there’s a scar from when I slid down a concrete bench in the 11th grade. I can still see where …

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