When my book first came out, I had lots of questions and ambitions swirling around in my head. Would it be successful? Would my blog readership skyrocket? Would I become a speaker? Honestly, I struggled along with bouts of both insecurity and of pride, because my writing had never been published and I wasn't sure how that would change my life. On the one hand, I wanted to become famous. But, on the other hand, I didn't. Suddenly, I felt pressure to build a platform and to do great things. Meanwhile I was embarrassed if anyone took notice of my work, and I mostly just wanted it to go out quietly into the world and do the thing God had intended it to do, while I stirred mac-n-cheese over the stove and rocked my babes. The thing is, it did go out quietly into the world and my life r[...]

I'm sitting here at my kitchen table, my laptop propped right next to the sippie cups and the bowl of crusty ramen noodles and bits of leftovers from lunch. My kitchen floor is atrocious. There's some hot dog scraps and some paper scraps and some plastic dishes and although I'd like to clean this place up, I'm taking some time to scratch out words instead. It's funny how, being in the middle of all the mess, I do feel right at home. I've been processing a lot of things. I've learned to take a few days off of social media here and there partly because I'm on there a lot and I don't like how it feels--that dependency. And also because I post a lot and I worry that I become annoying to folks and so I like to practice a little solitude and silence so as not to talk too much. I also t[...]

We shouldn't be ashamed of our brokenness. It's through our own fractured places that we're more capable of relating to the world. When we're fragmented, we can deal tenderly with the aches of others. After all, we see that it's hard to hold it all together. We see that we can't always do that. And so we learn to be okay with that. And it's not just okay for us. It's okay for those people over there, too. The Jesus-follower who experiences brokenness has the craziest kind of hope. Because Jesus says of him/her, "Where you're weak, well, that's where I'm strong." (See 2 Corinthians 12:9-10) So, like sunlight bursting through broken up clouds, Jesus shines through all the cracks and crannies of our shattered hearts. And the world sees something they always wanted to see. They [...]

Yesterday I noticed for the first time that my yellow crocus' are bloomin'! I noticed them right after Samuel stepped on them and crunched half of them to the ground. That's okay. He's too little to appreciate the delicate glory of the first crocus blooming. The way they holler out, "SPRING! I'm serious! It's coming! For REAL!" I praise the Creator of those crocus. And the Maker of that boy with his flower trampling feet. Last night I didn't sleep well. I've got these allergies that I've had for like, oh, the last six years of my life and I finally broke down and made myself an appointment with one of those allergy doctor persons. It's pretty tolerable except for when I can't breathe. Breathing is just so important. But, I'm thankful that suffering, even suffering from all[...]

The other day, we visited this children's museum. As we made our way inside, I watched my kids run enthusiastically down that carpeted ramp, pointing excitedly at this and that, and I cried. I cried because I got to be witness to this--my boy beside himself with glee over the Transformers exhibit and the dinosaur sculptures and I got to see the world again through my little girl's eyes, all full or curiosity and wonder. I cried because so many of the world's children have never been to a dinosaur museum just for the fun of it. Some of them are scraping the parched earth, looking for food and they can't find any. And some of the children in the world don't have a momma or a daddy to take care of them and here we were, all together enjoying life and we'd go out to eat at restaurant[...]

When I was in my early to mid-twenties, I went through a pretty deep depression. Probably on the outside, I looked fine. Happy mostly. I showed up at work every day. Played pranks on people. Cracked jokes. Tried to maintain a kind and cheerful disposition. But, those closest to me could tell something was wrong. I came home every day and slept. For hours. My weekends were pretty mundane and uneventful. I plodded along through a lot of dark days. Looking back, I can now see several contributing factors to my melancholy outlook on life, but mostly I think I was just deeply disappointed. Disappointed in the way things had turned out. And to be honest, when I looked ahead toward the future, it didn’t carry any hope. Now, I know I was only in my twenties, but I had already settled in [...]

So, I’m in the process of writing another book. Which is fun, because I like writing. A lot. I like it so much that I try to do it a little bit each day of the work-week. Though, sometimes I’m so excited about writing that I can’t focus and so I check facebook and then read some blogs for inspiration and then check facebook again, and before I know it, all my writing time is gone. But, hey. I’m not doing that. Did you hear that self? Don’t do that today. Now, I haven’t signed a contract or anything quite yet. I wanted to get a plan down first, because I hear plans are good things to have and once a contract is signed, well, then that’s serious business. Deadlines have to be met, which is exciting and exhilarating but there’s no more loli-gaggin’ around if you know what I mean. [...]

 A repost from the archives....because I sort of needed some light-hearted happy today:  Some day, you might get this uncanny urge to make a bird nest. But, before you get the urge to make a bird nest, you might get an urge to make some playdough. So, you do. You make some playdough. And it's messy, but it's fun. Then...then you get an urge to make a bird nest. Because when you're three, there's only so many things you can actually make out of playdough. I mean, you can make a snake. But snake-making is fun for like the first two minutes, then you want to go on to bigger and better things. So, a bird nest it is. And since your mother wants to make sure you're [...]

An edited repost. Because I feel this every year...right about this same time... I think this northern winter is taking its toll. Last night I lay awake thinking about all the little ants down deep in their tunnels and what they must be doing, groping around in the dark and cold. I wanted to yell to them, “Hold on little ants! Spring is coming! You’ll get to see the light soon!” And I imagined the moment that first little guy emerged from his hole, like coming up out of a grave, his tiny antennae sensing bright warmth for the first time in months. I wonder if ants do a hallelujah dance. Since I was wide awake, I started imagining bees buzzing and crocus popping and grass green  and trees finding their leaves again. I imagined that first barefoot step I’ll take out in the[...]