Today is Hopey's birthday. She's lived on this earth for one whole year! (Remember when she was still in my tummy and I thought she was a boy?) I'm so glad she wasn't a boy. She sure surprised us. Now, one year old's don't know much about life yet. But they do have a few essential things down. Like, how to kiss. Kissing is important. And she knows how to just be. She's good at enjoying her little life. She doesn't stress about what's comin' next or worry about tomorrow. Cause she's provided for today. I should like to be more like that. Happy Birthday, Hopey. I'm so glad you're here with us.

Dear friends--this last weekend, I spent a good amount of time with some llamas. Like, well over 10 minutes with them at the county fair, and there are some things I feel I must inform you about them. It's just that there are some common misconceptions that I simply need to correct. Here are just a few:First of all, in case it was in your heart to befriend a pack of llamas, let me spare you the effort and humiliation. Llamas are simply too cool for you. They neither need nor desire your friendship. They don't even care that you exist on the earth. They wouldn't even cry if you died. They don't have time for you. They don't like the way you smell or the way you stare and they certainly don't appreciate your amusing laughter. In fact, you make them want to spit.  Secondly, in spite what[...]

Dear Everybody, I thought you should know that I’m gonna be a Harley man when I get big. I’m gonna be a Harley man named Big-man Biker Bub and I'll join a Harley chapter and participate in Harley chapter activities and make lots of Harley friends.Yeah. Even though my mom said it wasn't a good idea. She said motorcycles are dangerous. She thinks I might drive real fast. She thinks I might get a big belly. And I might get too hot in that black leather outfit and I might pass out. And I might get deaf because they're very, very loud. And I might get other people deaf that are not Harley riders. And she said people might get the wrong impression and think I'm just a big ole' mean guy.But the good news is, I already have a helmet so my head won't get hurt. I mean, my head will probably get[...]

Last night, after the kids hit the hay, I went out walkin' barefoot in the yard. I watched some fireflies. I noticed some pink clouds up there in the sky. I played with my cat. I sat on the swing and I swang. And then I remembered a funny story. (Blogger now transitions from intro into funny-story time.)photo credit So me and my little brother were just little folks. Like, I don't know--I think I was 12 or so and he was 10 or so. We were at my Mamaw and Papaw's house way out in the sticks. We were just a-swangin on the swing talking about life and stuff. "Hey Maggie," my little brother exclaimed, "Just so you know, if there was ever a bad guy around, I wouldn't even be scared. I would just beat him up." As usual, I felt the mean-sister duty to laugh him to scorn and then retorted, "Wh[...]

Some days I feel this stressful tension wrapping around my throat. Pressure to "get it all done" that chokes the life right out of me. The Cinderella song starts playing in my head:Cinderelly, CinderellyNight and day it's CinderellyMake the fire, fix the breakfastWash the dishes, do the mopping And the sweeping and the dustingThey always keep her hopping She goes around in circlesTill she's very, very dizzyStill they hollerKeep a-busy Cinderelly!Before I know it, I'm not happy anymore.  Golley-jeepers, folks, I just don't have time for happiness. No sirree--I've got way too much to get done. After all, isn't that what makes your life worth something? If you have a million things on your list and your knocking them out? So, I decide to put my head down and get to work. Knock it ou[...]

Continuing on my journey through J. Oswald Sander's, The Incomparable Christ. Photo creditIt's summer and every day ends with fireflies blinking. I stay outside at dusk to watch the darkening yard fill up with them. Another day just whirled by and it feels like I just stumbled along. Most days, really, I spend groping around, trying to figure out how to live this blink of my life. It's just not good enough for me to simply exist here. I want to know how to fully live. I hunt for meaning because I've just got to know what's most important. I can't stop thinking about how I only get this one chance and it's all so brief. I've been reading about Jesus and at the moment I feel silly. Like, am I wasting my life thinking about Him?  What does He have to do with today, anyways? But I can't g[...]

I picked up a book yesterday in my mother-in-law’s basement. I actually went down there to retrieve something else and found myself distracted, as usual, staring at her shelf of old books. This one caught my eye, “The Incomparable Christ” by J. Oswald Sanders. There was nothing attractive about the cover, but a sweet friend had raved about it, so I took it upstairs, sat down on the couch and began.  And now here I am, still thinking about what I’ve read and that I would like to do a bit of blogging as I go along. You see, this book is all about Jesus. And as I write this, I am a little frightened by what you’re thinking right now. Like, what if you don’t like Jesus? Or what if you don’t think He’s real? Or what if you think He was real, but you just don’t get why people would dev[...]

Good mornin' folks. We're up here at the Slam-dunk contest and we've got 2 season champion, Bubby Paulus at the hoop...that's right, folks, he's been slammin' dunks since he was 6 months.He surveys the crowd. He gathers his thoughts. He adjusts his pants. He burps. He steadies himself for another win.He's got the ball. He tightens his grip. He looks around for the basket.   He spots the basket. It's high, but not too high. He's short, but not too short. Ready...Aim....SHOOT! Bubby flies through the air. He does a triple-spin deluxe. He manages three flips off the back-board. He touches his toes. He does the splits. Ouch. He decides to never do the splits again. Oh, wait. He gets his hands stuck in the net. Oh, shoot. This is embarrassing. He fumbles the ball. He ge[...]

I like being married to this man. Isn't he beautiful? I love his eyes. I remember the first time I sat in a room full of people with him, I kept looking back at him and whispering to God, "Wow...he's beautiful. God, You did a really good job when You made him." I kept saying that over and over again. I haven't stopped thinking it since. Of course, we don't have a perfect marriage. Because I'm messed up and Brent, well, he's messed up and two messed up people do not a perfect marriage make. But, I am in love with him. And it's not all my fault either. Brent is an amazing man. He works hard at the things that are important to him. He's intentional. He gets discouraged but he doesn't give up. He keeps pursuing, he keeps asking forgiveness, he keeps asking me questions, he keeps wanting to do [...]