bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, love, mercy, Redemption, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

I will go before you and level the exalted places. Isaiah 45:2

I dreamt I attended the funeral ceremony of a kind and giving man, a steadfast friend of our community. I suppose I’d seen the photos of others who attended, who shared their thoughts on being there.

The faces of the family left to live without him, the dignitaries who gave thoughts and tributes and other individuals there to witness the event and offer support.

I noticed the posture of some, shoulders slightly bent, carrying a burden and I noticed downcast faces on some who stood at the podium.

But, I saw strength in many; perhaps, they told of how this gentleman taught them to be stronger.

So, I dreamt that I was there and after the ceremony was over, one of the speakers approached me to say hello. It was then that we shared our own experiences of knowing the man who passed away.

It was then I shared,

He always spoke with the kindness and sincerity in hoping the best for me every time I had the chance to talk with him.

The listener listened with the same kindness as I added, “He was like a father to many, I believe.”

Every morning, I add thick circles around my prayers. One in particular might be circled until I’m gone.

Because when I think “no need” life shows me I could be wrong.

I’ve told a very few people on rare occasions that someone felt like a father to me.

It’s super personal and often uncomfortable to express that you wish you’d had your father a little longer or worse yet, that he had been a different person.

Now, I’m seeing why I dreamed that dream. Often, writing helps me unravel the causes. It wasn’t the FB photos of the funeral attendants, it was a thoughtful documentary about redeeming our days and the days we decide were all wrong.

Yesterday, I watched “Love, Tom”, a documentary about the life of songwriter Tom Douglas.

The story is told as his response to a younger man struggling who says beseechingly so in a letter to Tom.

You’d think he might not even respond.

After all, he’s famous, the recipient of many awards.

He lives in Nashville and is beyond the early angst of a creative’s struggle. I’ve commented on Instagram to writers when feeling a likemindedness…no reply. You realize they’re famous and you are not.

I’ve promised myself if I write again, a book more well-known or become a better known artist, I’ll engage with the curious and kind followers who simply want to be closer to my craft and me, the creative behind it.

Tom wrote the young songwriter close to giving up an authentic letter.

The letter became this documentary.

And, I suppose because he’s a creative he told some beautifully, tender and honest things about himself.

About redemption and about a sort of rethinking his father who struggled’s reputation.

I won’t spoil it for you. I hope you’ll watch it for more than a couple of reasons:

A well-known responding to another who feels invisible, a parent relating to a child, a child forgiving a parent and a creative who learned not to pursue creativity harder than he pursued the Creator.

Redemption, he suggests we keep after it until we’re gone.

Now, I see that the dream wasn’t really about the man laid to rest, it was about the other prominent person who listened when I expressed my feelings over the loss and with his response and his eyes, he agreed and together our grief was encircled.

More here:

Love, Tom

growing love

courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

The soil of faith

The soil of faith

To love someone in reality is easy.

I wonder if there’s more to be said for Faith that stands, that lingers.

That withstands and makes stands.

In love and for love.

Faith is the staying the course, an intentional choice of aligning.

Faith is decision tied to action, doing, not just being.

To have faith in someone is to cultivate love.

Tend to them. To grow them like seedlings.

Nourishing love’s roots planted deep.

Faith is the soil.

Hope is the water.

Love, like the changing of tiny branches from brittle to verdant green to lush and flowering,  stronger in the growing because of its roots and it’s soil.

Seasonless and for every season.

Faith-filled soil, Moist, pillows of soil, cushioned by hope.

Love grows best there.

We plant. We water. God grows.




happy slumber

Children, family, Motherhood, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder



Last year this time, I headed home down ice abused streets.

Glancing towards windows as I drove.

Hoping for homes illuminated by the magic of electricity.

Ice ravaged our trees, our streets, tested our Southern spirits.

Walking into my den, I’m greeted by a den floor covered in mattresses.

Every blanket, quilt, afghan, cover or spread.

Beautifully, tidy and pretty.

My daughter has made our beds…and I am greeted with love and happy colors.

Everyone’s recalling the storm of 2014.

And I, this morning, in the quiet of early am cherishing this…

The time we slumbered together next to the fire.

When Heather made the beds.

Remembering now, my eyes moisten from the sweetness.

The happy place in the storm.

The happy slumber.



Demonstrating love

Children, Motherhood, rest, Teaching, Uncategorized


Small things

Small things

I made Heather’s bed after she left for the day.  I cleared the football weekend,  tornado-strewn floor of clothes and various accessories and tucked her quilts tightly and just so.

I stood back and looked, turned to walk away then decided to leave a love note on her pillow.

Then I straightened Austin’s room and chose to let him be lazy, have his space. I stopped myself from repeatedly asking “What you doing today?” Which, in mama speak is “why you being so lazy?”

I continued with the laundry and let him disengage after an intense baseball weekend. I have questions to ask, but I let them wait.

Not pushing, prodding, whining or complaining…just me doing what they could be doing for themselves just because.

I am sure there are critics of my approach. Some call it enabling, spoiling, crazy…I call it demonstrating love. All the love I can, for the empty best is looming and I will have vacant spotlessly clean rooms and couches with no long,lazy legs sprawled over them.

Small things with great love

Love never fails. It binds us together… bond a mama only knows

Over all other virtues, put on love which binds us together in unity. Colossians 3:14

Spreading love

Faith, Motherhood, Uncategorized


Last week I was hugged by a beautiful, fragile little black lady. She was dressed in a pale green pant suit with a beautiful pin shaped like a daisy on her lapel next to her Holiday Inn name tag. I met her our last day in Atlanta for a crazy, hectic stressful baseball trip. I needed Frosted Flakes.

All the buffet had were mini wheats and bran.

She saw me standing in the middle of the hurried baseball parent crowd and walked over asking, “What in the world is it you need, pretty mama?”

I smiled.

How could I not smile, this angel with a jubilant smile, tilted towards me, hair pulled into a perfect bun? I said, “I wondered if there is more cereal in the back, Frosted Flakes or Fruit Loops.”

She smiled, turned confidently on her heels and said  “I’ll be right back!” She came back with Frosted Flakes, three boxes, and said, “Now you go and have a good day.”

I lingered there, in front of her joyous face, then hugged her and said “I love you.” She smiled back, really big…and said. “You be blessed.”  “Thanks.” I said, walking towards the elevator, glancing back to see her watching me go as she whispered, “Keep spreading that love.”

Kindness of kind hearted souls

Grace and love without reservation

Entertained by and entertaining angels…Love.


Love, Hope, and Faith

Faith, Trust


Last week, I created a gift for a friend, a hostess for a big event.  I decided to make a handmade gift, a simple vase, with a twine laced tag…the word, Hope, hand painted. I filled the vase with fragile white “snowball type” flowers. So fragile that I had to carefully deliver the simple gift being careful not to shake the little petals from the stem. It was my friend’s wedding anniversary and I felt the affirmation of Hope was timely. It was providence I now know in choice of this simple word, Hope. A timely message neither of us could have known; but, just as I imagine her glancing towards that simple little gift, that nondescript text of ” hope” I have many times myself smiled inside at the timeliness of this gift.

Yesterday, I prepared for a wedding. My nephew was about to marry the sweetest, most angelic little bride I’ve ever seen. At the last minute, I decided to grab this simple sketch of husband and wife, toddling along, together still. The sketch, an afterthought of an extra gift, no frame, not yet complete. I decided to add, the words “Faith, Hope, Love”.

The wedding was special, as are most. The procession of wedding party, the lighting of unity candle, the soloist, the giddy, yet passionate smiles on the faces of bride and groom. But, then the recitation of scripture chosen by bride and groom, read by my brother. His voice, strong and composed,he began. I watched, listened intently as he swayed nervously yet intent side to side in a sing-song motion reading from I Corinthians 13. FInally, concluding with “And now these three remain, Faith, Hope, and Love; but, the greatest of these is Love.”

Love is the answer. Hope is the motivator, Faith is the foundation; but, Love is the gel, the cushion, the cure.

and the afterthought…the clarity of a gift from the heart, a gesture, an extra kindness not required

And we know all things work together for good. Romans 8:28

I am amazed by the Lord’s weaving together of seemingly insignificant acts.