4 Jan 2015

Rest is Dead, Long Live Rest

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2014 is still twitching. If any of us still used checks, we’d be scratching the “4” into a “5.” I have dairy products in my refrigerator that sport ’14 as the year it should have burst into flames, but it’s probably okay. Scrape that part off.

My word of the year for 2014 was REST. I wasn’t a fan when it was presented because it indicated I’d have a trip around the sun devoid of progress. I worried it meant something was looming and I needed to go to bed early, like a child facing a big tomorrow. God’s voluminous sleeves. There is always something up there shaped perfectly to refine, restore, redeem. Eventually, I ran with REST and discovered a deep, rich word… read more

1 Jan 2015

Pardon Me, But Your Word of the Year Seems Really Stupid

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Resolutions are out of style. The last time I made one was when I was worried Prince might be right about 1999. Over the years, I’ve read criticisms of resolutions in general. They are the express bus to Failureburg. Most people who permanently change their lives do so not because of a calendar square but because of inner change coupled with strength.

In Christian lady circles, the fashion of the past few years has been to pray about and discern a Word of the Year. This has come to replace the classic resolution. There are numerous websites and bloggers who are determined to help and inspire a woman to discover her personal word. We are encouraged to pray for the Spirit to show us where we will be led in the coming year and what quality or virtue to meditate upon. Normally, this is the type of thing that make my eyes roll enough to carry a rubber raft packed with 16 tourists through a canyon. Class 5. The Spirit isn’t bound by a calendar square, either, but I feel Jesus understands the human squee over new starts because he’s the Ultimate New. He could press a word into my soul on a June Tuesday, but I hope he meets me now as 2015 dawns… read more

13 Dec 2014

Joy to the Joy

by | posted in: Faith, Nature, Uncategorized | 0

The lady across the street from my childhood home owned an organ. Her name was Joan. We must have been at Joan’s house for a Christmas party because I vaguely recall many people gathering around as she sat on a little bench. Then, her feet pressed long boards which made sounds like a cow.

Joy to the World, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her king!

Joan’s organ wheezed while everyone sang.

Ever since, Joy to the World has stirred up odd associations: Pants suits and root beer. Feet and cows bellowing. Adults you never heard sing, singing…read more

13 Nov 2014

The Porch Rabbit Lives

by | posted in: Faith, Nature | 0

Every time we have stepped out the front door the past few days, a small rabbit was hunkered a few feet down, trapped. Earlier in the week, one of the kids saw the rabbit dart into a small hole under the concrete front porch. It would have made an excellent home, but my husband filled in the hole with dirt and packed it tightly. The rabbit’s only hope rested solely in digging itself out.

I wasn’t happy when I heard. I have a soft spot for rabbits. My first non-fish pet was a rabbit I won at work when I was a senior in high school. I worked at Target and they were giving away a rabbit as a prize in a trivia contest at the store’s Christmas party. As an adult, it occurred to me a co-worker must have wanted to unload the rabbit and believed the Christmas party was just the ticket. There is no way they obtained a rabbit to be a prize when they had an entire store of items to choose from. That’s why God invented Requisition Forms… read more

10 Nov 2014

Punching George Bailey in the Face

by | posted in: Culture, Faith, Parenthood | 0

The email I composed to my daughter’s teacher was eloquent and angry. It was arch, crisp, devastating. I wrote words I knew would wound a person who dedicated her life to teaching elementary school children. She was a monster, a liar, a manipulator beyond reason. I was fierce and poetic, conjuring a vision of a little girl with a passionate love of school and learning left terrified to enter what was once a beloved place. I seethed and hammered keys. I marveled at how bitterness inspired twisting, clever phrases, even congratulating myself on one particular paragraph. My daggers were lined up and smartly punctuated…read more