Lori Florida

Living just four blocks down the street from my best friend made it easy to share clothes, secrets, and families. We could be found within a close radius of her backyard pool most summer days. The rhythm of our summer days revolved around Gretchen’s dad’s third-shift work schedule. During the morning hours, the house needed to stay dark and quiet, so we picked peppermint leaves to chew, painted our nails, and read books. Not long after lunchtime, Mr. Liddell would wake up, which paved the way for our favorite summer activity: synchronized swimming routines. We practiced and laughed until we felt ready for an audience. Gretchen’s dad always stopped mid-project to be amazed by our mildly in sync pool programs. He clapped and went back to work while we kept playing. His presence was as steady as the summer sun. He wasn’t merely my friend’s dad; he was a comfortable, expected constant in my life. The familiarity born by all those shared moments made his cancer diagnosis particularly awful ...

My dad’s soul left for heaven four months, one day, and about fourteen hours ago and I haven’t dissolved into a pile of nothing yet. I’m more okay than my fear ever let me think was possible. I’ve weathered the scariest thing in my life and imagination better than I expected to because of the “ Lesson Learned ” God is teaching me right now. Lesson Learned: The security you found in your dad’s opinion of you was an important part of God’s plan, but not all of God’s plan. The things your dad gave you were a downpayment on the things God, your good Father is giving you now. Your dad carefully stewarded your self-worth and in ways invisible to you, has been carefully handing the baton back to God. More of how you see yourself is currently resting in how God sees you than you realized. This is why you are okay. God used one of my favorite Psalms to spell this out for me. God’s voice has been especially loud during miscarriages, disappointments, and fears through Psalm 103. I love that he br...

I had a recurring nightmare as a child. It woke me in the middle of the night and kept me awake worrying about whether it would fill my mind as soon as I closed my eyes. I thought I would outgrow it. I hoped my adult brain would be able to see things my child’s brain couldn’t and I would be free. Instead, a panicky fear of my Dad dying followed me into marriage and parenting. I’m 49 years old and until recently, the nightmare still showed up in various forms. This year my beloved Daddy died. I watched him take his last breath in front of me and imagined him arriving with the next in heaven. My whole life I’ve been clenched up around the fear that watching him die might break something inside of me and I couldn’t survive.  It didn’t happen. I’m more okay than I ever thought possible. My dad isn’t living anymore, he’s not here on earth for me to talk to or touch and I’m sitting upright and in my right mind. Today I’m amazed at my okayness. Finally being free of this fear I’ve lived ...

Make new friends but keep the old. One is silver, and the other is gold. Living in the parsonage next door to my church brought with it a fierce temptation to run for cover on Sunday mornings. At war with my longing for good friends was my compulsion to avoid awkward post-service conversations. I loved my friends; it was the process from acquaintance to bosom friend that killed me. Voices in my head told me the happy groups chatting in the foyer didn’t need one more person. But I was in a new place with new people as a mom of two preschoolers. To build a life here, I needed friends. God always knew I needed friends. The proof started before I was even born as my mom discovered one of her Lamaze classmates attended the same church she did. My first friendship was born before I was. Kim and I grew up together. She was the blond to my brunette, the laughter to my serious, and the active to my laid back. She provided an anchor of belonging to my little heart. I can’t remember my ele...

I love old books. Maybe it’s the smell of history that rolls out with the crackly pages. Maybe it’s the tone of authority old-fashioned English gives to the words. Maybe it’s knowing the words are the only remaining living parts of the author. Certainly it’s the look and feel of a proper cloth binding. Hudson Taylor’s Spiritual Secret  is a skinny red book that grabbed my attention for all those reasons. It was printed by China Inland Mission in 1935 and bears the name of its previous owner in flowy script. It was written by Taylor’s son and daughter-in-law, who followed him as missionaries to China. To this day members of the Taylor family are continuing the work Hudson began in China. During his fifty-one years there, he recruited eight hundred missionaries to join him. They went to China trusting God to meet their physical needs without any fundraising. Hudson used unconventional means to gain entry into the hearts of the people. He adopted Chinese dress and many other...

The problem with crying for days is it tires me out—mind, body, and soul. Coherent thought drains away. Gumption to struggle through is gone. Finding my tears can’t change the outcome is a shock, my mind numb to what’s next. The only reality seems to be the ugly pit of feelings I find myself in, slack and spent. That’s when my tears change from the salt of sadness into the fire of anger. When I think I’ve cried all there is to cry and yet more tears flow over my raw, cracked skin, something boils up inside. I’m mad. Mad, mad, mad! My heart cries, “Unfair!” and demands to know if God sees me. The list of credits I’ve logged to my account through obedience, walking hard roads, and following calls is held up in my shaking fist as proof I don’t deserve this. I don’t want it, and I’m screaming in frustration at my inability to bend God to my will. Suddenly yesterday’s truth of comfort, that everything comes from God’s hand, feels like a sharp prod pushing me into a dark and scary p...

Remember back in elementary school when you would meet your girlfriends under the slide during recess and talk about your "club?"  The very best of these moments involved groups of nice girls who laughed and talked together while beckoning for other girls running by to join them. I'm part of a club like that and I don't want you to miss it!  The Glorious Table  is a place where life is shared and grace is poured out.  You will meet some new friends there who will encourage you right where you are and will find a conversation you will want to join. Subscribe to the email list and like The Glorious Table on facebook so you don't miss anything.  There will be new posts every weekday and a special devotional series on Saturdays. Jump on over, check it out, and pull up a chair.  Today's writer is an old friend of yours - ME!   Enter your email address: Delivered by FeedBurner

When my boys were little I occasionally declared "Mom's Off Duty."  Similar to the governor declaring a state of emergency but without the emergency part. I sat down with a book, journal, or my Bible and reminded the kids of the rules.  When Mommy's "Off Duty" no talking to her until the timer goes off.  None, unless there's danger or blood.  After our first couple tries,  I had to add to the instructions and tell them they couldn't make eye contact with me, mouth words to me, or act things out.  "Mommy will not communicate with you in any way unless there is an emergency".  I may or may not have put a blanket over my head so I couldn't see what they were doing a time or two.  Declaring "Mom's Off Duty" is really more of a survival skill than a parenting technique.  Once my kids began to talk, I started to feel the ability to focus slipping away.  I knew that if I didn't do something drastic I might never agai...

Many parts of being a Mom are way harder than I expected.  You can only understand so much until you're actually in the thick of it, experiencing it.  My hardest life lessons have come connected to a piece of parenting.   I know everything I do affects those around me, especially my children.  We all understand this to one degree or another and it motivates us to work hard and become good people. If you are anything like me, you've found yourself surprised by the intensity of love you have for your children. You knew you would love them, but you had no idea it would feel like this. Elizabeth Stone said it perfectly, "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to let your heart go walking around outside your body." There have been many times I've done the right thing or gone the extra mile, more because I knew it was good for my kids than because it was good for me.  There's a shift that happens inside of me, a willi...

Not many people understand how awesome Michigan is. You might not know that the state nickname is "The Great Lakes State." And if you haven't lived here you might not understand that that means Michigan touches 4 out of 5 of the Great Lakes..... almost half of our counties actually touch one of the Great Lakes too. These lakes aren't really lakes at all, they're inland oceans. They're ringed with miles of beautiful beaches and skyscraping sand dunes. You can't see across them. There are whitecaps to play in but no scary sea creatures or pesky salt water. Between those mammoth wonders and all the little lakes of Michigan, you can't be within our state boundaries without being within 6 miles of a lake. You want coastline? Forget Florida and California, check out Michigan! Michigan boasts 3,126 miles of coastline! If we called the Great Lakes oceans, which they really deserve, that puts Michigan just trailing California in miles of coastline.......