Cling
I took Riley to the vet, the other day, for his checkup and shots. Since his actual death experience while we were in Europe, he hasn't been too keen on the vet's office, and, seriously, who can blame him? If I had died somewhere and lived to wag my tail about it, I wouldn't necessarily want to hurry on back there. Would you? Regardless of how he felt about it, boyfriend needed his shots, so off we went. Since he was a puppy, he has enjoyed riding on my shoulder like you would hold an infant there. Because he's long-bodied and little, even full-grown, this continues to be one of his favorite ways to be carried. So, as I was standing at the exam table, across from the vet, I had my...
On Commanding the Moments
It began yesterday, and had nothing whatsoever to do with Easter. Oh, we had a lovely Easter day...beautiful church service, a nice meal, a wonderful, nourishing rain. But, later in the afternoon, beds were stripped, and equipment was unpacked from a certain closet in my favorite room of the house. Yes, the preparations for my little darlings (including their bigger - but not by much - darling mother) began in earnest. That closet is wonderfully large, so I sat up the Breyer horses/barn, and the dollhouse, in there so that Lilli could have a place to play that kept Brody away from small parts and from wreaking general havoc. That meant I had to go through old equipment they'd both...
His Words (for when you think you’ve gone too far)
Every Sunday around here is for His Words, instead of mine. But today, you're getting a few words of mine and from a friend of mine, mixed in. Lisa McKay (also known as The Preacher's Wife) is an author, speaker, and one of the sweetest and funniest Bible scholars I know. Girlfriend knows her stuff. Yesterday, she posted this on Facebook, and I haven't been able to quit thinking about it (truthfully, I'd never even noticed it before): My favorite resurrection passage? Mark 16:7 "but go your way and tell his disciples AND Peter that he goes before you into Galilee and there you will see him just as he told you." Why the special invitation to Peter? Because he wouldn't have come...
An Open Birthday Letter to My Dad
Good morning, Dad. The sun has risen on this, your 78th birthday, and it's shining its promise of glorious delight out across the tree tops of the ranch. You would love the view. The birds are competing in song, and in just about every other way, right now. It is, after all, that time of year. We have two of our three barn swallow nests occupied by nesting mamas, and I find myself turning a blind eye to the mess they make and a more focused eye to any predators that might interfere, including our own cats! One of the nests might just hatch while the kids are here, and I'm excited at the thought of sharing it with Lilli. You know, it's the warmer weather I associate with you most, Dad. So...
It’s a Good Day
Back in 2010, I wrote a piece about Good Friday. I thought about it this morning and couldn't remember how long it had been, so I pulled it up and felt the strongest urging to repost it. So, here it is. It's likely that many of you have never read it, so I hope that it will resonate with you on this Good Friday. It truly is a very good day...maybe the BEST day, except for Great Sunday (also known as Easter!). I read the story of that day, 2000+ years ago, every Good Friday. It was a day that started with betrayal, and quickly spiraled downward from there, to include an arrest by the authorities, denial by the closest of friends, a call and sentence to murder, bludgeoning,...