Petals of Friendship

  A new season begins. It is Lent. We are born. And the moment we are born, we leave one realm and enter another. We were conceived by the greatest Artist, God. Designed, created, and with the breath of life in us, He perfectly places us exactly where we are supposed to be. Yet, at this moment we entered imperfection, and became needy. Needy for so many things, but more than anything else, it was the beginning of our need for Him. Our need for His grace for our souls. Our search begins. Is it possible we have a memory of where we came from? Is it possible our needy souls long to be seen and loved as we once were? Could it be that this is what drives our search? Our search for someone to hold us, care for us, nurture us, and grow us? The neediness in us becomes so great that our lives can turn into broken fragments and pieces that scatter to anyone or anything that appears to have the ability to mend our souls together. We can be stuck in this fragmented and scattered state and cont...

  Your story, God’s story The past, present and future…all parts of our story. I am intrigued by history, especially my family’s history. The people, where they lived, the origins of their stories. Knowing my roots and where I came from is not only a part of their stories, but my story. God’s story. While I may not always pay attention, God has been weaving a unique story through the generations of my family. I’ve tried to capture those stories, mostly in small bits and pieces through the memories of my mother and father. The good, the bad, and the ugly parts of it have been shared. No one has a perfect story, and I think we’d rather forget about the bad and the ugly parts, but we have to wonder, why were those unwanted parts written in? We can stay stuck in those past parts, but God offers something better. Throughout the Bible, we find stories filled with the reality of hard things. Highs and lows are scattered throughout the lives of the people yet, in those stories, God shows u...

  Our hidden parts... A friend recently invited me to a new Bible study. I went back and forth in my mind about attending it. I had many reasons to say no. My biggest reason was that I didn’t know anyone except my friend, and the thought of meeting new people gave me a heavy feeling. By heavy I don’t mean anxious, it was more of a wondering if I would fit in or have anything worthy to contribute. For an introvert, these thoughts form familiar, personal hurdles that I must approach with full velocity. Or not. As I chose to attend, I simply hoped to make the jump and land safely. My “normal” go-to is keep to myself. Until I get to know someone, I stay hidden. And this hiding has become something to ponder lately. Recently, I discovered that the part of me that I keep hidden really should not remain that way. And I discovered this lesson in my garden. I relish the blooming of the peonies in my backyard each spring. They are one of my favorite flowers and I can’t wait for them to open ...

"It takes time and practice to learn to listen. And it takes a caring heart. A fourth-grade teacher once asked her class, "What is listening?" After a few moments of silence, one little girl raised her hand. "Listening," she said, "is wanting to hear." Lord, make us a people who want to hear." Janet Dunn, Desiring God. I love learning and I admit that I am somewhat of a self-help junkie. A friend once said to me, "You have to start reading something fun!" It didn't sound interesting, but she was right. This same friend is a great listener. When I sounded off about trouble in my heart about my relationship with my mom, she offered kind and loving advice. What was that advice? That I needed to seek the help of a counselor. Inside, I rolled my eyes. Really? Again? I've gone this route before, aren't I done? But I went forward with her advice.  I connected with a counselor, a caring soul, a beautiful listener. With her by my s...

My Betty Crocker cookbook is a wreck. It was given to me as a bridal shower gift in 1979, and I have treasured it ever since. Over forty years later, it remains a prized possession. It has been my cooking guidebook, truly important when you’ve grown up feasting on a mainly southern Italian diet, (no complaints here) which included a lot of pasta and meatballs. Yes, our meals had variety, but gravy was simmering at my house just about every other day. The traditional, and now collectable Betty Crocker cookbook became my best friend in the kitchen. Today, it has all the signs of being used and maybe a little abused. The pages are weathered, written on, and stained. The covers are loose, no longer held in place by the familiar spiral binding. The only thing keeping it together is an oversized, stretchy band. I’ve collected other cookbooks over the years, but this one has been my go-to manual. In it, I discovered new recipes, tried making things I had never heard of, and was thrilled ...

I recently watched Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris (Amazon) and it was a lovely, “dreams come true” story. The main character in the story, Mrs. Harris, is a light-hearted woman with a lovely disposition. A war widow, she makes her living as a hard working housekeeper for upper class clients. While at one of her clients’ homes, she spies a stunning Dior couture gown hanging in the wardrobe. Instantly, she is entranced by its beauty and resolves to own one someday. She was on a mission! She scrimps and saves at every opportunity. Finally, she has saved enough to make the trip to Paris to visit the renowned House of Dior. She is ready to make a purchase! She endures a few twists and turns, but as fate would have it, everything falls into place for her. She is seated in the viewing parlor ready to observe a private showing of the beautiful collection of couture dresses. Spoiler alert… She purchases a beautiful gown and the process to custom fit her dress begins. She proudly owns a Dior gown! I...