Monthly Archives: January 2012


When I was a child, I loved to play “Peek-A-Boo” with my parents. It was my chance to deliberately hide. But hiding wasn’t the best part for me. It was in being found where I experienced the most joy.  Growing up, I often felt unseen. So much activity surrounded my older brothers and sister, as well as the baby, that I often felt pushed aside. So imagine my joy when my parents would be intentional in their pursuit of me as we played this game . It was my time alone with them. Uninterrupted. They had to come looking for me.

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Just Show Up

There is next to nothing in this life that can be accomplished without work. I am trying to lose ten pounds, which requires work. I have to exercise if I want to see results. I have to sweat and strain and push myself, if I have any hope of reaching this goal.

I want to be better about buying and grocery shopping so as not to waste food and money, that also requires work. I have to make a menu, and plan, and then I have to take four children to the grocery store and try not to break the wine bottles and jelly jars as we careen through the aisles.

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Healing for Mom Guilt

For years I had the same dream several times a week. I lived in a nice house where life was full and happy. There was only one problem . . . there was always a pet, usually a dog, living in the basement. That in itself was not a problem, I love critters, the problem was that I continually forgot to feed her and let her out.

My neglect always led to feelings of guilt and fear of what I was going to find when I went downstairs to check on her. Finally, tired of waking up feeling like a failure before my day even started, I prayed and pondered – what was this dream trying to tell me.

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When Your Quiet Time is Not So Quiet

It wasn’t like I turned my back on God.

I just couldn’t fit Him in my schedule. The birth of our third child pushed me over the edge – the pages of my carefully crafted day planner fluttering in the breeze. Normally, I spent time in Bible study and prayer in the morning after the kids left for school. But nothing was normal.

I tried getting up earlier for a while, but my sleep deprived body revolted. I tried doing it during naptime, but realized I needed a big dose of Jesus just to get me through the morning.

For two years (Did you read that?

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Remembering To Breath

As a busy, full-time working mom, I try to accomplish as much as I can in a day. I am usually okay with the messy house, unfolded laundry and cluttered kids’ rooms from time to time. But lately, I’ve been anxious and uptight over the fact that I can’t seem to get caught up. I’ve been short of breath, suffering from headaches, body aches and restless nights. I’ve had a busy couple of weeks, but nothing out of the ordinary. My day-to-day activity is pretty routine:  I get up, get myself ready, get my children off to school, go to work for 8 hours, come home, help with homework, feed my family, do household chores, get the kids to bed, catch up on my favorite blogs, check my email and throw myself in bed somewhere around midnight, or later.

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No Longer Living in Fear

Since childhood, I’ve been afraid. Afraid of death. Afraid of the stories describing a heavenly measuring rod. Afraid of the judgement. Afraid I wouldn’t ever be good enough to escape the consequences of sin and make it to the better place. Afraid of myself, my inadequacies, me — so quick-to-sin. A child afraid. A teenager afraid. Trying to get good graces and accolades. Wanting so badly to be told I was “good”. Seeking affirmation. Wishing so badly to escape the constant heaviness of realized imperfections.

Funerals made me catch my breath, hollowness in my soul, eyes dry and staring, unable to wrap my mind around the impossible forever of what-comes-next?

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wake up

I pushed my red Target cart forward thinking of all I needed to get. I wandered past an endcap with the 50% off sign I stopped and looked at all the things I didn’t know I might need to have. Notecards, cute little media boxes, and stickers caught my eye. As I stood there I heard a loud noise.

Then darkness.

The power went out.

I didn’t know what to do. Do I move forward to the 70% off signs in the toy area? Do I stay here? Do I go back to the light of the doors? And then another noise, and slowly lights began to flicker on.

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Hello! I was There

One of my Facebook friends left the following post the other day:

My daughter’s school records have the wrong date for her birthday. Now my five year old thinks her school is right, and that I don’t really know when when she was born. – Hello! I was there!

Too funny! As a former Kindergarten teacher, I remember how quickly a five year old can get confused, how often a child believed me over their parents. I used to tell all moms and dads, “I will only believe half of what comes to school; will you will only believe half of what comes home.”

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