How to Find Beauty in the Fog - The Glorious Table

The radio deejay warned us to use headlights. Dense fog threatened to slow the morning commute and cause accidents. I felt no fear, but I still used my lights, and I counted on other drivers to do the same. I needed them to be visible as I turned onto a busy road and could see only a few feet in front of my vehicle. My heart thumped as I pressed the gas pedal, hoping no surprise would appear out of the mist. Even our familiar path felt strange and different in the fog. I drove with an extra dose of awareness.

That morning drive was easy compared to the days when fog seems to fill my whole life. I hate those days. Indecision paralyzes me. My stomach feels sour, and all I can think about is how easy and straightforward other peoples’ lives look. I want to bury my head in the pillows, refusing to move until the fog lifts. Even then, I know the only way out of this life fog is walking to the edge of it, one tiny step at a time.

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What You Need, When You Need It - The Glorious Table

We ate steak at the fanciest place in town, me and my sister, our husbands, and our parents. Around the table, we joined Mom’s reminiscing. We retold our favorite stories of family vacations and holidays. We revealed some silly childhood secrets. And we listened to Mom’s stories from fifty years she and Dad spent together. One of our favorite stories is of the birthday Mom expected a diamond ring but went home from their swanky dinner with a shiny new set of hot rollers. Whenever Mom tells that story, instead of making fun of Dad for his slow-moving ways, she praises his serious, methodical decision making. She points to it as proof of his dependability. My mom told stories. I told stories. My sister told stories. Even our husbands had memories to share. We retold some of the stories Dad put on paper in his journal for us. The thing we missed most was Dad’s voice in the storytelling. Rather than telling the stories himself, he locked eyes on the teller and responded, “By golly, that ha

The Fight for Control - Day 3

Preschoolers' bodies contain a power that defies the laws of physics. Moms of preschoolers know there is definitely something metaphysical going on in their homes. It's also clear to Moms like me that every now and then, a special child comes along with whom the force is especially strong. I had a cute little 3-year-old boy who often left me slack-jawed and feeling outflanked. His will was strong and it was aided and abetted by a deft use of words and logic. Maybe you've encountered a kid like him.....you can recognize them by the iron glint in their eyes and the furrowed brows of their Mommas. Maybe you've got one living under your own roof. Even though it felt like Trevor and I jockeyed for position forever...but it was really just a chunk of Trev's 3rd year. Let me tell you, it was one INTENSE year, but it wasn't eternal. Our toughest head-to-heads seemed to always happen on evenings Scott was at a late meeting and I was flying solo. They start

Project Hopeful Guest Post #2

I'm writing for Project Hopeful again today. We've been very busy in Ethiopia meeting some incredible people! Please join us! Enter your email address: Delivered by FeedBurner

Lori Florida

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