Seeking Hope — the first in a series of Advent posts

dsc_0283Advent is defined as this season of ‘expectant waiting and preparation for Jesus’ birth’, for the coming of Christmas. Makes it sound holy, quiet and serene, doesn’t it? But really? Really, we are entering  a season of crazy, busy doing. Anybody with me? And I just can’t seem to break the spin cycle. So how about this? Each week as we light these candles and walk into this season, I will be sharing some scripture and words here on the blog and praying that it can help us pause and see Him with us —  even as we hustle and hurry to make it all happen. So come on in…

When Giving Thanks Seems Out of Place

untitledI am so excited to be given to opportunity to write over here at (in)courage today. My post is featured as their post of the day!

Would love for you to check it out. Just click the link below.

When Giving Thanks Seems Out of Place

 

Happy Thanksgiving, friends!

A prayer on this Election Day

dsc_0078Here’s the prayer that’s been on repeat in my heart about this day.

Lord, today is the day.  Today is the day that “we the people of this great nation” get to decide who will lead us. Today is the day.

Stepping into new things

dsc_0041He wants to try a new sport, this routine loving boy of mine. The basketball court has been his second home for so many seasons that we’ve lost count. But not this winter, he tells us. Wrestling. He wants to do wrestling. He wants to try a new thing.

For when you just don’t know what to be

dsc_0475“A zombie with blood dripping out of my eyeballs! Will that work? Can I be that? Or what about the guy with the chainsaw?” this boy goes on and on with his lists of possible costumes as we wander the aisles of the costume store. And I have no words. What is the deal with all things death?

“No blood, gore or death, that’s the rule!” I remind him as I add ‘get a pumpkin’ to my list of things to do.

“But, mom! Then what am I going to be!?!!” he questions loudly. “Why are you always so against all things Halloween?”

What? Good ol’ Halloween. We meet again.

Who’s in charge around here anyway?

dsc_1190Fall has arrived in the South, y’all!  And I am so thankful for the crisp air that whistles through the open windows in my office and helps with the usual pervading smell of all things boy. I have peaceful visions of quietly getting some work done while the boys frolic gently in the yard. Ummm… yeah, sure. The sounds from the backyard neighborhood football game make their way through my open windows and I remember that this is real life. With boys.

How to drink your Gatorade

dsc_0572This time of year in the South we are all waiting. Waiting with visions of crisp cool breezes, rustling leaves, apples, campfires and all things pumpkin dancing behind our eyelids. Waiting for the heat, which excited us with its possibilities back in March, to finally make its exit. And we’re not sure it is ever going to happen. Because, y’all,  it’s 94 degrees here with 87% humidity; you could fry an egg on the pavement in our cul de sac (don’t tell my boys that — they will try it).

So we wait …

Doing the Dishes

dsc_0970It’s looking a lot like this around here this morning. There’s not a clean knife to be found and the boys nearly had to share the same cup at breakfast. And yes, we do have  dishwasher — this magical machine that takes our grimy greasy dishes and makes them bright and shiny again. Yeah, we have one of those.

On Making U-Turns

u-turn-sign-on-road[1]I have absolutely no sense of direction. None. But I like to pretend that I do. You see, I still live in the same city where I grew up; so I think that I know my way around. But I really don’t. Just ask my sweet husband.

How to Beat the Clock

DSC_0928That clock. All. Day. Long. He watches over my shoulder, tick-tocking his way into every fragmented thought. He determines what gets done and what gets piled in the corner. He decides if I eat lunch or simply down another cup of coffee and call it good. He declares with every beat of his tiny second hand if we are on time or late; if the deadline will be met or missed; if the day will slip quietly down with the sun or pull at the hem of the darkness with its demands.  He gets my eyes more often than anything else throughout the day. That clock.