Last Saturday would have been my grandparents 65th wedding anniversary. Well . . .my grandpa died 24 years ago, but this is how my 88 year old grandma described the day, “It would have been our 65th anniversary.” Her 90-something year old friends celebrated their 65th anniversary a few days earlier, and she was blessed to visit with them on their anniversary. (I think her words to me were “They look old now.” Well, yeah, they are in their 90’s.) 🙂 Continue reading
Monthly Archives: January 2007
From today’s My Utmost For His Highest
All I do should be based on a perfect oneness with Him, not on a self-willed determination to be godly.
Sometimes it’s difficult to allow other people to help you. It’s tough to admit you can’t do everything and that you need help. In Blue Like Jazz Donald Miller writes about the difficulty of humbling ourselves and admitting we need God’s charity. God’s charity extends beyond salvation, though, and it can be just as hard to humble ourselves and admit we need additional charity, additional help. Accepting help . . . humbling myself . . . allowing other people to be a blessing to me . . . have been lessons God has been teaching me lately. Continue reading
Sometimes I feel like my children are guinea pigs in my grand experiment in parenting. My husband and I are not parenting experts. We’re figuring this out as we go along. We make mistakes (a LOT of them), and we talk about ways we’re messing up, and we ask for forgiveness, and we try again.
Lately, we both are feeling like we need to stop and consider our children’s motives before we rush to discipline. Sometimes I hear my husband’s whisper in my ear, “Consider her motive.” Other times, I am the one who steps in to ask, “Why did you use half the roll of paper towels?” Continue reading
Nine years and almost four months ago, my grandfather died. It was my twenty-fifth birthday, a Sunday. My husband and I had driven to my hometown on Friday, hoping to visit with Grandad because we knew he was very sick. When we arrived at my parents’ house, my mom was waiting by the door to go straight to the hospital with us. My dad was already at the hospital. The doctors had said to call in the family; Grandad wouldn’t live much longer. My aunts and uncles and cousins arrived that Friday night and into the day on Saturday. All twelve of my Grandad’s children, most of their spouses, and many of his (then) twenty-one grandchildren filled his hospital room and spilled out into the hall. The nurses set up a coffee cart in the vacant room next to his, making sort of a hospitality room for our large (and boisterous) family. Continue reading
These redneck teeth just don’t grow old with my children. Continue reading
Laundry . . . . you’d think with one child wearing the same basketball jersey every day and another wearing only swim-trunks, I wouldn’t have so much laundry. But, alas, my hamper runneth over.
Why do I have such a hard time keeping up? Perhaps it is because this is how the laundry chore goes around here . . . Continue reading