The spilled batch of homemade laundry detergent finally pushed me over the edge.
I’d been experimenting for a while with homemade cleaners. Cheaper. Earth-friendly. And I liked the image of myself as the kind of mom who made her own cleaning supplies. If nothing else, it was a great topic for playgroup conversation.
But standing there with gloppy liquid oozing over my toes, it hit me:
This is not me.
It’s not that making your own cleaning supplies is a bad thing. It just wasn’t my thing. Being “housekeeping challenged,” to begin with, why did I want to add layers to my household chores?
Continue Reading »
We walked back up from the river in the deepening dusk. As we rounded the bend we saw them—fireflies twinkling among the thistles and Queen-Anne’s lace bordering the path.
My daughter froze. “Mom,” she said in a reverent whisper, “Are those fireflies? I’ve never seen them before.”
We held out our hands to catch the light and watched the fireflies dance in defiance of the dark.
God has called us to be light. “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl.
Continue Reading »
She launched herself into the air, squealing “Catch me Daddy!” My husband threw himself across the pool, barely getting his hands in position to catch her as she splashed into the water. She shook water out of her face and cackled with glee. “Again!” she shouted, smacking her father on the shoulder. “Catch me again, Daddy!”
She’s our brave one, this blond-headed firecracker of a child. Her older siblings have always tread with caution, but she throws herself at the world and trusts that someone will be there to catch her. Slides, swings, pools—she has absolute faith that her father’s hands will be waiting.
Continue Reading »
