Community
Tuesdays have become one of my favorite days of the week, although, most of the time it is forgotten. Mashed between the ever dreaded Monday and the most infamous of the week days, hump day, it garners little fame and quietly passes us by. However, I have grown fond of it and wake up each week excited about what lies ahead. For me the enticement is the group of ladies I meet with. The group is diverse, ranging from the mid twenties to middle age. Some are married, some are not. Some of us have children and some are hoping for them. For two hours each week we study God's word, share our stories and pray for one another in going forward. I have found these ladies to not only be an

The telling.
I love movies, books, songs, anything that tells a story. They fascinate me, capture my attention and leave me mulling over the characters. It is a real passion of mine. To me, it doesn't really matter if it is a chic flick, comedy, action or just a great book. My concern is with the telling. Do the characters reach beyond the surface? Does the story line invite me in? Is there a journey?Every now and then I will come across an exceptional telling, one that leaves the characters lingering in my mind for days following the movie credits, final lyrics or last page. This is the sign of a great story teller. However, for every great story, there are those tha

My Anchor.
For many, going home is something to look forward to. I know folks who can't wait to visit family, friends, old schools and places they use to hang. Sometimes their remembrances of home are accurate and other times they are a hyped up romanticized version of the actual place. At any rate, when it comes time to go they are excited for the journey down memory lane. However, I am not one of those people.For me, going home is a time consuming and arduous process. Home is 12 hours north of where I live now and the place I made all my bad choices. It is a living remembrance of a lifestyle left behind and I have a hard time going there.This anxiety I have with g

What does your sign say?
Disappointment. Frustration. Misunderstood. Incomplete truth.These were all the feelings that flooded my heart when I drove home yesterday. What drove me to feel these things? Signs. Signs are an everyday part of our lives. Signs allow us to know the speed limit and which way to go on the expressway. They help us on hospital visits, college campuses, the grocery store and so forth. Basically, the list could go on and on. However, the signs I encountered Sunday were, in my opinion, misguided daggers of judgment. "Abortion kills" - "Jesus hates Abortion" - "Abortion is Murder"My heart broke as we passed a line of 20 or so people ho

:: called to love ::
The other day at Panera I lost the key to my prius. I searched frantically, retracing my steps, emptying my purse and even asking the 3 women who sat at my table after me to move so I could look there. It was gone. At this point I was near tears. You see, I have no other key. We bought the car used and it came with only one key... only one. Defeated, I pulled out my phone and prepared to call my husband. But, just as I was dialing the numbers my friend came running toward me with one hand held triumphantly in the air. She had found my key! Apparently, I dropped it on the restroom floor earlier in the morning. In all the commotion and panic I had forgotten to check the bat