Friday, May 11, 2018

Motherhood Ain't for Sissies - The Glorious Table



Someday I’ll be a white-haired lady talking with friends or gazing out a window alone with my thoughts. My conversation and thoughts are sure to center around moments when my life was busy with little people who called me Mom. Among the everyday moments, other memories will float to the surface and demand my attention above the rest. The highlights will be the clutch moments, the pivotal points in my children’s lives when a decision was made or a new ounce of courage was found. The moments I got to watch them become.

Those clutch moments are the same desires I dreamt about when my babies were growing inside me. My prayers were full of desire to be there when my kids needed me most. I was desperate to offer support and put the wind in their sails. The same moments I longed for at the beginning will be the exact ones sustaining me at the end.


What I didn’t see coming were the tears. My early dreams and the memories real life has given me bear many similarities; what they don’t share are all those tears. My dreams didn’t consider the ripping required for the butterflies to emerge from their cocoons. They didn’t compute the necessary tearing of muscles to make them grow strong.

Saturday, April 21, 2018

Devotion - How to Be Prepared for Trouble - The Glorious Table

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33 ESV)
We all love a good police drama. My favorite episodes are when they call in a guy (or woman) to defuse a bomb or talk down a hostage taker. One guy steps forward, close to danger, willing to defy great odds. He knows he has expertise and preparation the rest of the world doesn’t have to offer.
The expert has high-level training and has honed his skill through hours of practice. He has learned to mitigate the effects of stress on his body. He uses deep breathing to slow his heart rate and steady his hand. Good sleep and healthy living are serious issues to him, knowing he could get a call at any moment.
Why is he this extreme? What has made him willing to sacrifice time and pleasure to prepare with unusual skills? He knows he’s on call and that his phone will ring when disaster strikes. He expects trouble and has prepared to meet it with skill and strength.

I go about my days without ever practicing bomb-defusing skills. I never check my phone expecting to see an urgent call from the local police negotiations unit. They never request my help. My job doesn’t demand expert skills in hostage negotiations or bomb defusing. It makes sense that I don’t have those skills. It would be utterly foolish if I applied for and got a job in special operations and was put on call, because I’d be unprepared.
***I'll share my secrets for living life as prepared as the bomb expert over at The Glorious Table. Please join me there to read more!**

Enter your email address:


Delivered by FeedBurner

Tuesday, March 13, 2018

The Giver Gets the Greatest Blessing - The Glorious Table

Tigist invited me into her home in Ethiopia because I was—and still am—her American sister/sponsor. When my heart was stirred toward orphan prevention, my girlfriends joined me, we pooled our money, and I earned the opportunity to be Tigist’s honored guest.
The inequities of our lives churned inside me during our visit. Our two birthplaces make our realities wildly different. Her entire home is the size of my master bathroom. I have access to medical specialists, while her community has one doctor per 33,333 people. My hard work has the power to significantly change my situation. Her hard work, day in and day out, barely keeps malnutrition at bay.

Trying to make sense of these disparities has been an open, working file in my mind since the day I met Tigist. I need to understand how God is working and what he expects from me. The privilege of my birthplace is a sacred offering I have to give to the world.
Wrestling with these questions has caused unexpected certitudes to appear. The most brilliant is that what I’ve gained by giving far outweighs what I’ve given.
Join me over at The Glorious Table to read the conclusion of this post.

Enter your email address:


Delivered by FeedBurner


Thursday, January 18, 2018

The One Thing You Need to Age Gracefully - The Glorious Table



Twenty years ago, when I imagined myself mid-life, I curated a mental list of the things I imagined myself doing. I expected my forties to be busy, bustling with action. I hoped for a full family life and strength to check boxes on important lists all day long. I hoped to maintain a sense of style that didn’t embarrass my daughters but stayed unique. I wanted my forty-something self to be doing things that felt satisfying.
Here I am at forty-six, and it’s almost exactly as I expected. It seems to be the sweet spot of both strength and perspective. A peak from which I can see how far I’ve come and am starting to turn my face toward new vistas. Thinking about the future is quite different than in my twenties. Then, life seemed limitless, but now it’s easier to see time’s constraints.
The One Thing You Need to Age Gracefully
I used to think I wanted to age like Sophia Loren. She’s stylish and drop-dead gorgeous; she doesn’t try to be any age but the one she is. She gives off an air of embracing the best pieces of who she is today. Twenty and even forty years from now, reality tells me that my strength will wane–of body and mind. In my eighties, I may not have the eyesight necessary to pluck my eyebrows evenly and apply eyeliner well. Without Sophia Loren’s team of stylists, my eighties are bound to look much different than hers. Already I’m doing regular double-takes in the mirror, surprised by gravity’s power. I’m not putting a date on the calendar for when I plan to let myself go, but I do feel a strong pull to be something significant on the inside and not just the outside.

Enter your email address:


Delivered by FeedBurner

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

You Don't Always Need a Resolution - The Glorious Table



I think I was born loving shoes. In a box somewhere in the attic, I have a pair of white leather baby shoes with my name in gold-leaf on the soles. My habit throughout childhood was to go to sleep with new shoes placed in their box, the lid off, by my bed so that they would be the first thing my blurry eyes would see in the morning. I had a growth spurt during middle school, a few short months after my mom bought me exactly the pair of Nikes I wanted. My shoes were still sparkling white when my toes started complaining. My flabbergasted mom took me shoe shopping again—back to the same store, back to the same Nikes with a purple swish. I loved those shoes—both pairs!
This shoe love made my decision to walk out of a shoe store without a purchase this summer feel crazy.

We were shopping for hiking shoes for our adventure into the Wyoming Rocky Mountains. Because we would be carrying all our belongings in backpacks for a week, our feet would be our most important piece of equipment. This required good shoes. My husband, Scott, had hiking shoes that were worn out. Our girls had never been hiking. They all clearly needed new shoes.
I still had a solid pair I had worn on three previous hiking trips. They bore scuffs, scratches, and soot marks, but plenty of life was left in them. I waffled between the allure of new shoes and the tried-and-true comfort of my old pair. Read the rest at The Glorious Table.

Enter your email address:


Delivered by FeedBurner