Showing posts from 2011

Under Attack!

We’ve been under attack. Well, our lawn, that is. My husband woke up one morning, alarmed at what he found outside. Our yard looked like someone had attacked it with a rototiller. Each side of the house had large sections uprooted and we couldn’t figure out why. After pondering, Joe realized that it had to be an animal of some kind, digging for grubs. I learned that grubs are attracted to grass for many reasons, one of which is drought stress. They also move deeper into the lawn during the late summer and early fall months to seek out moisture. It all made sense. Now, the challenge was catching the culprit causing all the damage. Joe turned into the character Bill Murray played on Caddy Shack. He spied the terrain; and one sleepless night, he got up and surveyed the back yard. There in the distance was a set of beady eyes that belonged to a skunk. A defiant one at best. I really felt bad for Joe because he is meticulous about caring for the lawn. Fertilizing, thatching, mowing, etc. Th

I Can't Remember

I’ve been lazy. I let my guard down, and found my confidence shaken. A few weeks ago, I participated in several business functions where I observed some interactions I was not a part of. Slowly, I started experiencing feelings that seemed to pull the rug right out from under me. I felt jealous, left out, angry and longing to be included. Where did those feelings come from? Wherever it was, I didn’t like it. The possibility that this could have been some sort of stealth, spiritual attack didn’t even cross my mind until later. I often kid about how I forget things, but this time, it was all too real. I had forgotten the truth. The truth of what it means to be a woman who is loved by God. Unconditionally and relentlessly. Forgetting the truth made me lose my footing, causing me to walk off the solid ground He has given me. To look towards others to make me feel accepted and secure. Thankfully, God is not lazy! He does not let his guard down. He is always ready to fight for me. Willi

My Favorite Mike

“My Favorite Mike.” That’s what I called him. Mike was one of my son’s best friends, and he passed away last week. When I heard the news, the knot in my throat was all too familiar. Over the years, our family had experienced unexpected death before, but this was different. I think it was different because this young man had so much life ahead of him. I instantly thought of his beautiful personality and how deeply he would be missed. Mike was one of those kids who brought a smile to your face every time you saw him. Mike’s death made me think about my own two kids. It forced me to realize how much I don’t know them and how much I miss them, even though they are here. They are doing exactly what they should be doing as twenty-somethings. They are living their lives with freedom and independence. We raised them to usher them into adulthood, right? Why then is there an ache in my heart for them? Profound and life changing moments come when we least expect them. Those moments can affect


Today was the last session of my collage class.  It has been a gift to be in Laura's class ( ) and the bonus of it all was to create and work with other women who love collage.  Each student in the class has been an inspiration to me.  I really admire the artwork everyone creates.  Laura really pulls us into the creative process and I love that and need that!  The piece I created is from our last two sessions.  I call it "Layers."  Over the years, I've been trying to grow up and out.  I've often been told that the process is much like the peeling off of layers of an oinion.  Layers that cover up who we are, our hurts or the broken places in our lives.  The collage process is the opposite of this.  In collage, we build through layering.  I am finding that the layers help to reveal who I am.  I found a common bond with many of the women in the class.  We all have a yearning to break away from the things that keep us bound to habits we wrest

Living with the pain

While working on a project in an art class, a sharp sting on my finger made me stop in my tracks. I knew instantly that a sliver just broke through the skin on my finger. It was just a tiny piece of wood, barely visible, but boy did it hurt! I tried to remove it, hoping I’d get the entire piece out but no luck. There was a small part of it still under my skin, and I couldn’t do anything about it until I would be home later in the day. Interestingly, I was able to proceed with my project, and I actually forgot about it. Later in the day, I brushed my hand against my jeans, and the pain from the sliver came back. I was quickly reminded that something wasn’t right. That’s how sin is in our lives. It’s so apparent to me when I am not in sync with God. Instantly, the Holy Spirit elbows me and lets me know that I stepped out of line. The conviction, while gentle, is painful. It’s also interesting to see how I can forget about my sin and just go about my business as if nothing is amiss. But t

Welcome 2011 - Connecting the Dots

I am in my third collage class session and am absolutely thrilled. I am learning, learning, learning. One snag though. It seems like the perfectionist in me is keeping me from creating as freely as I'd like to. The part of me that wants to do my work in an exact manner is hanging me up a bit. So I've been trying to pay more attention to what is inside of me, hoping to hear a whisper from the Holy Spirit. After all, the art is in me and so is He. I try to be aware of the messages that will lead me and memories come to mind of when I was a little girl, collecting and gathering this, that, or the other. I never understood why I was drawn to the things I chose. I just knew that when I liked something, be it a rock, an old screw, or a feather, I added it to my collection. I didn't think about it much, I was just happy with my stuff. Over the years, as I've been drawn to the "this and that", I have added it to my collection of stuff. There was no rhyme or reason to