Home

I have so many wonderful memories from childhood. Most of them are tied somehow to this place, the only house I remember living in until the day I was married. My room was on the second level on the front side of the house and was a bright yellow, and one wall had wallpaper with yellow flowers and a white lace bedspread. Now, I've never been a yellow-room kind of person, but this was the design of the previous occupant, my oldest sibling June. (Thanks, June. No sarcasm. Really. Okay, maybe a little bit.)

Lessons Learned at 42

"Not to be offensive or anything, Mom, but how does it feel to get older? I mean, can you really tell?"

This is how the conversation with my 21-year-old son Caleb started, and it ended with my rather simple answer: "Besides my back getting a little sore sometimes, Caleb, I feel better than I have in years." 

In 1999 Robert Fulghum published the book All I Really Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. The book was a best seller, and I loved it. There are a lot of things, though, that I didn't learn in kindergarten, that took me 42 years to understand, and still many more that I'm trying to figure out. Please blog with me by sharing in the comments section the lessons you've learned.

Some Thoughts on Marriage

Today is my 23rd anniversary. Twenty-three years ago my 19-year-old self and my 22-year-old boyfriend walked down the aisle and made a very grown-up commitment in a world that seemed pretty uncommitted.

We've learned some things along the way. When I first thought about writing them down, I wondered who would possibly want to read them; after all, 23 years is not that long...and yet it is. So at the risk of sounding like we have it all together (we don't), I thought I'd enroll Jerome's help and give you seven things we've each learned about marriage. If you've been married awhile, you don't need this list, but if you're just starting out, maybe you can learn from our mistakes.

My One Thousand Gifts

Inspired by Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts, I've decided to write a detailed list of those everyday things and people for which I give God thanks. This is definitely a list in progress.

1. The way ducks drag their feet through the water right before they land
2. The penetrating heat of the sun's rays on a spring day
3. The sound of nine-year-old feet scampering across my wooden floor
4. Floppy puppy ears

On Pride

I have a problem with pride. I care too much about how I appear to others, and nothing is ever quite good enough for me.

As I've blogged about many times before, perfectionism is something I struggle against often. From my career path as an English teacher and editor to my calling to be a mom, I have focused on the ideal. I strive to be organized, to have a neat house, to volunteer, and to develop and maintain good habits.

While I don't really consider myself a competitive person with others, I am always, always in competition with myself. Am I better than I was yesterday? Am I stronger, bolder, smarter, more compassionate? And while the appearance of this inner competition makes me appear motivated, the truth is that I sometimes struggle to accept myself the way I am today and love myself the way Jesus loves me.

Memory of a Neighbor

Once in a while a memory will come back to me in odd bits, one leading to the next, until a big picture emerges that I hadn't contemplated much before. That happened to me this morning as I was practicing piano.

As I was going over "Threads of Love," I was suddenly brought back to another piano, one that I used to play at my neighbor Phyllis' house. I hadn't taken any piano lessons at that point, but Phyllis would encourage me to play by ear. That's what she was: an encourager.

Bucket List Lesson Number One

I've shared my bucket list with you, and you know I'm taking piano lessons. As goofy as it seems for a 40-something woman to be taking piano lessons, let me tell you that I really enjoy it—so much so that I almost called my piano teacher yesterday and asked her for an extra one because I've practiced so much this week. Yes, goofy. I warned you.

A Hope and a Future

Call it a mid-life crisis. Call it anything you want to.

The last couple of months, something has affected me. Is it my new almost-daily commitment to reading my Bible? Is it my recent weight loss? Is it my excitement for the future: first, a cruise with my sweetheart, and next, some trips to Ethiopia to adopt one or more children?

Christmas Newsflash (Don't Get Too Excited)

This morning I finally decided to get out and hang the evergreen roping I purchased at the greenhouse. The result always looks pretty decent, if I do say so myself.

From when I got married at the young age of 19, my mother would always compliment me on the rare occasion when I'd bake something. "My, aren't you a Betty Crocker!" she would exclaim. The last few weeks, as I've been making my own bar lotion, bath fizzies and gift wrap, I've felt like Betty's daughter Martha Stewart. (And up until about 30 minutes ago, I was feeling pretty good about that.) This, my friends, is not normal.

Now, for an Attitude Shift

I was wrong...about everything.

You'll probably be hearing that from me often–—daily—–as we go through this adoption process.

As we go through the various workshops, literature, and videos that are required of adoptive parents, it sometimes feels that every reason for adopting is the wrong reason. Your children are growing up and you have room for more? Don't look for a child to fill your needs. You want to help others? Don't think of yourself as some savior. You have infertility issues? Don't look for a child to fill the grief of not having your own biological children. There appears to be no right reason for adoption.