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What Happens If There’s No Fireworks? My Retreat Wrap-Up.

The retreat weekend started with a bang. Maybe a howl is a better adjective. We were supposed to drive up on Friday night but due to the tornadoes and storms, we waited until Saturday morning. It was an agonizing verdict that taught me a lot about decision-making and just how difficult it is to get five women to agree on anything.

We decided to take one car, another huge decision in itself, and to meet at Christy’s where we would all leave together. There would be no early escape for me, no matter how hard I tried. I prepared to leave my house at 6 a.m., quietly and without drama, until I couldn’t find my keys. I had to wake …

Women, Chocolate, and Kleenex. Why Retreats Scare Me.

It’s Monday. I’m already worrying about Friday.

A couple months ago I thought it would be a great thing if a couple friends and I signed up for the women’s retreat. We’re all fairly new to our church—wouldn’t this be a good way to get plugged-in and meet a lot more people? I encouraged. I prodded. And now, as much as I’d like to, I can’t back out of my own idea.

A few of us are long time friends, a few are new-ish. I’ve never spent time alone in a hotel room with any of them that’s for sure (or seen them in their p.j.’s, for that matter), and I’m nervous.

How do you approach, you know, the stuff?…

Buckle Up. Bad Weather Ahead!

Tuesday morning I dropped Sophie off in Leiper’s Fork to check out a school. The long drive is not something I typically do any other morning. Just think Tennessee farms, horses, and fog settling beneath the branches of empty trees on a cool winter morning. On the way home, I purposefully let up on the gas pedal and turned the radio off. The quiet helps me think. And remember.

It’s hard to believe that just two nights before, eerie tornado sirens were drowned out as the wind whipped through the Bradford pears and delivered hail and buckets of water.

This calm after the storm reminds me of a time when Sophie and I flew to Texas to visit my mom. …

Food For Fines a/k/a How Ramen Noodles Taught Me About Grace

January 9th marked the start of the annual food drive that Nashville’s Public Library conducts in order to purge people of all their sinful ways. I mean to waive their overdue fines.

As I approach the gentleman at the library, my face turns pink. My eyes often well with tears when I discuss my overdue fines. I preface our conversation with, “I’m probably on your most wanted list. I need to pay up before I can check anything out.” Fear veiled in humor is a dead giveaway.

He perches up on his elbow, leans in close and whispers, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” He points to the flyer that says “Food for Fines” and tells me to pay …

What To Do With Your Left Overs

Recently I attended a Bible study on John 6. I’ve heard that story since Mr. Perrone’s second grade Sunday school class; we sang about it while arranging felt figures on that simply magical board!

I’m sure you’ve heard it before. Jesus fed more than 5000 people with a kid’s lunch that consisted of a couple fish and some of his mama’s homemade bread. Oh how he must have dreamed about sitting in the shade and munching on his yummy feast that day! Little did he know what he would give up. I still remember being amazed that Jesus did all that multiplying without twitching his nose or folding his arms and blinking!

But after they were done eating, Jesus told …

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