Are you wondering if God has forgotten about you? He hasn't. Not ever.
If God were to send you a message, I think He’d write something like the words in this note.
Living a Full Life
Loved. This. My friend and I were sitting at a small table in the coffee shop, reminiscing about our days at Northwest Airlines. Catching up on where life has taken us since then. In the middle of updates and future plans, my friend very nonchalantly said, “I have a full life.” Oh my. Those words made me pause. When was the last time I heard someone say that? Most conversations include… “Life is crazy busy.” “We’re hanging in there.” “Too much going on.” How my friend described
Moments of Mutterings and Murmurs
Perhaps it was mom’s strawberry Glucerna spill in bed at 2:30 a.m. Or the looming project deadlines. Or that I’d stayed up too late watching tapings of the new season’s NCIS shows. Whatever the reason, I was tired. And grumpy. I was feeling extremely cynical. And it showed up in an ugly attitude. The target of my cynicism? TV’s female news anchors. I was tired of their standard, apparently prescribed, wardrobe and look: Solid colored, tight, sleeveless dresses. Tan legs that cross perfectly. Trendy jewelry. Five-inch heels.
This is Livin’!
It’s how my dad lived his life… Creating “This is livin’!” moments. I don’t think I ever heard dad complain. About anything. And I know I never heard him say a bad word about anyone. Ever. He was too busy looking for the good. What an awe-inspiring way to live. Dad really loved life. He found joy in the little things. A good piece of pie. A good (very weak) cup of coffee. Fishing with the grandkids. Eating vanilla ice cream while watching the Minnesota Vikings on
Finding the New Rhythm
It was a you’ve got to be kidding me! moment. There were six of us. Six women who dreamed of tap dancing on Broadway. But knowing that was never going to happen, we had chosen a community dance class and were now gleefully tapping on a grade school stage. It was our recital. After nine weeks of stumbling, sweating, and fighting shin splints, this was our chance to show friends and family how quickly our feet could move. We had practiced. Hard. We had this. We wore snappy purple
I Took a Bad Detour
Oh my word. It happens so fast. In one moment I’m dancing around in My Happy Place (not literally though, because I’ve never really felt like dancing when things are great – I’m more of a high-fives in the air and whoo-hooing myself kind of girl), feeling good because everything seems to be under control. And then… I make a mistake. And within an hour I’ve been bumped from My Happy Place and bounced into the Place of Pity and Despair. And who did the bumping? Me.
Changing the Words
I love words. And I am tired of words. One reason for this weariness is that I’m finishing the writing on my next book, and everything I write sounds like blah, blah, blah. The bullies inside my head are not sending me feedback messages with smiley faces and pink hearts! (Oh, writing is so humbling!) I know this is part of the process…but ooftah. A bigger reason for this weariness, though, is because the world just seems to be filled with so many words. I watch the
The Synch Swimmers
Yup. I’ve got the fever. Olympic fever. And I’m counting the days ‘til Rio. My favorite event? Synchronized swimming. I don’t think it even shows up in prime time – it’s not a big fan favorite – but watching those ladies swim in synch actually makes me…gleeful. I tried it once, you know. My friend Lynn and I decided we’d give it a shot. Good grief. Whatever were we thinking. We selected the hyped-up music, created a dazzling routine, donned the colorful swim caps, and performed for
Asking for a John Deere
I learned it first in farming. Farmers and families coming together when the fields were ready for harvest and the rain was coming tomorrow as sure as the sun comes up. Trucks and combines moving across dusty gravel roads in single file and descending on someone’s farm to help them get their crop in. Then the John Deeres and Massey Fergusons caravanning to the next farm with ears tuned in to weather reports while turning on lights to break through the dusk and men and women in overalls praying for just a
Losing Part of Tuesday
So then this happened. I had just finished my workout at the Y last week Tuesday. I called my sister from the lobby, and that’s the last normal thing I remember for a while. When I went into the locker room to get my gym bag, the room seemed to be tilted on its side. The lockers looked like they were toppling over. I couldn’t figure out where I was or what I was trying to do. But I recognized the locker number I usually stick my
In Memory of Aunt Idelle
My Aunt Idelle (dad’s sister) was always full of life, focused on family, and brought the energy and spirit to every room she entered. She died on Friday, and although we will miss her terribly, she has left her fingerprints on so many hearts. A few years ago I wrote a short tribute to her. I’m sharing it again in honor of her memory. Aunt Idelle, you will never be forgotten. Thank you for loving so deeply. She’s 83. She lives in an apartment for senior citizens. She’s
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Consider me a city girl with a Midwest small town heart. I’m not afraid to poke fun at my own mishaps, and I love laughing out loud 'til it hurts! As a speaker, author, blogger, and Chief Encourager, I bring you a breath of fresh air on this journey we call life!
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