Category: Etc.

There’s Something About Accountability

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AccountabilityI didn’t want to write today. The last two posts were a little hard for me to write. I was walking lines, trying to step carefully, not sure if I had crossed over or not. That feeling of insecurity, combined with the busyness of the holidays and starting the first round of edits for my novel, has left me a little done in.

But I made a promise to you and myself that I would purposefully look for, see, and celebrate the good things. And that promise forced me to look today.

To see the gorgeous sunrise and watch in wonder as the sun’s spark slowly spread from a tiny spot to flames spreading from horizon to horizon.

To hear the laughter in my sister’s voice despite the hard things she endures.

To feel the heat in my home and good food filling my stomach.

So today, I thank you. Whether you know it or not, you are my accountability, my outside-myself-reason to keep finding beauty, to keep writing, and frankly, to not play it safe.

Today you helped me find the beauty in the world so filled with amazing things, I often miss the overflowing and take it for granted.

So if you took my challenge earlier this week and decided to not play it safe, what are you doing to be sure you will actually take that step? If you’re willing, I would love to know what your dreams and hopes are for the coming year. Maybe we can help keep each other accountable.

When Playing It Safe Isn’t Safe

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Sometimes Risk is worth it
Sometimes Risk is worth it

My daughter is fearless. She’s climbed trees two stories high hanging over a three story drop (that’s five stories if you’re counting). She dove off a swim block in a competitive swim meet at the ripe old age of five. And she has climbed circus silks far above my head twisting herself in and flipped over in an elegant inversion before righting her self and sliding to the ground with a flourish and grin.

My girl’s a study in bravery. Except when she’s not.

Girl in TreeWatching her struggle with insecurity around other people and with some things that really matter, hurts my heart. I see the potential in her. I see what she could be, what she could achieve, but she’s too afraid to try.

And I recently realized how often I do the same. I’m afraid to try. To risk.

Continue reading “When Playing It Safe Isn’t Safe” →

Why I Hate Christmas

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IMG_4217I’ll be honest, most of the time I love Christmas. It is, after all, the most wonderful time of the year.

But the Christmases of my distant memory are often haunted with darkness and loneliness—a desperate longing unmet.

Perhaps that’s why I work so hard to make Christmas full and bright, as much for my kids as for my husband and me. A celebration of all the good, happy, pretty things.

Red and green. Gold and silver.
Polished up kids, on the best behavior.
Shiny packages, bright with promise.

For the most part, and for most December 25ths, the magic glitter of Christmas works. But any one day can’t live up to the burden consistently and it frays at the edges, threatening to rip open from the pressure of little sleep, excess sugar, and packing in too much in too little time with too many people.

It’s a wonder we ever make it through without falling through a chasm—a la Griswold Christmas.

Continue reading “Why I Hate Christmas” →

3 Lessons About Friend-Type People

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Friend-Type PeopleI’ve always had a hard time making “real-life” friends. It is, I think, partly why I like books so much.

Like a friend, a book can leave you frustrated, annoyed, or disappointed. It can change your life for the better or for the worse. But you can always walk away from a book without leaving a piece of yourself behind.

People, on the other hand, friend-type people especially, get under your skin, into your life, tangled up in who you are. You can’t walk away from people without a little tearing in your soul.

So when, as a kid, I realized my little soul was in tatters, I just stopped letting those unreliable people in–those soul-tearing, friend-type people. I closed the door, hunched in the corner, and worked to patch myself back up.

But I realized I didn’t have the tools for a patch job, there in the dark corner by myself.

Then a few friends crept in and showed me that I’m missing something there in the dark with my light starved soul. They brought in the light of laughter, encouragement, and accountability.

And I discovered that anything worthwhile is worth the risk. There’s beauty in there somewhere. Continue reading “3 Lessons About Friend-Type People” →

There’s Something About . . . Clouds

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There's Something About CloudsToday is cloudy, some might say dreary . . . okay, most days I would say it was dreary.

But I’ve been trying to look deeper into those things that look ugly, and I realized something–

There’s beauty inside that grey.

The sky is blanketed, in wisps of deep purple, whispering over blue and grey. Somber, cool, quiet.

I struggle to see that beauty sometimes, but I realized the other day that without the clouds, the beauty of sunrise and sunsets are just missing a little something. It takes some darkness, some flaws to paint a really amazing sky… Continue reading “There’s Something About . . . Clouds” →

When Fine Isn’t Fine

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IMG_4106I sat in church the other day and listened to folks talk to the brand new mom behind me.

“How is it going?” “Fine.” “She looks like such a good baby.” No response, but a small smile from the mom.

And when they left she breathed to her husband, “What else am I supposed to say?”

Tears filled my eyes. I hate the word fine.
Fine says nothing.
It’s neither here . . .
Nor there.

Fine makes it easy to hide.

How are you doing? Fine. When life is slipping through your fingers. Fine. When you’re barely keeping panic from exploding your chest. Fine. I look fine. Feel fine. The day is fine, thank you very much.
Continue reading “When Fine Isn’t Fine” →

Kids, Books, and Censorship, Oh My!

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Kids, Books, & CensorshipI went to the public library with my kids the other day. It’s one of my favorite places—the smell, the hushed reverence, and oh the books. Glorious books!

But I have an increasing frustration, not with the library, but with finding age-appropriate books that would also fill the school’s requirements for difficulty-level, inclusion in computer-generated tests, etc.

I feel like I am lacking a specialized degree in book selection.

I’m amazed at what levels my first-grade son is required to achieve, even when compared to what his big sister did just a few years ago.

It’s incredible. But along with the chapter-book-reading first graders comes an increasingly bigger issue—how do we find age appropriate, challenging, engaging books for our kids? If they’re reading what used to be a second grade book in early first grade, what happens when they’re in fifth grade?

I’m fully aware that I’m rather protective when it comes to my child’s mind, but I think we can all agree that a ten-year-old shouldn’t be reading what is meant for a sixteen-year-old.

Despite what we may have been told, what our kids read matters.

Continue reading “Kids, Books, and Censorship, Oh My!” →

There’s Something About Thursday–Life

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There's Something About LifeI recently realized that I’ve made a massive shift in the last few years. The tectonic plates of my life have created an earthquake, and my easy way of moving through life has been destroyed.

You’d think I’d be reduced to tears at seeing my old way of life crumble. But I’m not. I’m glad.

Even though the commitment to look at my life, really look, is sometimes hard, it’s also really good.

I find myself looking at the sky, my kids, the rain, listening to the swell of the wind or the music on my radio, and I’m in awe.

There’s something about life. You know?

That got me thinking about how to be purposeful in recognizing the things that make me stop and wonder. I want to commit to at least every other Thursday giving a nod to the things that make me stop and say, “There’s something about . . . ”

There’s something about Thursday. We’re almost to the end of the week. Maybe it can become a time where together we find that something to think about.

Maybe you can notice and wonder with me. So for today, how would you complete the sentence: There’s something about . . . ?

Overflowed

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OverflowedIn the interest of being honest, I’m struggling.

Not in the sense that I am enduring the huge storms of life. No. It’s the slow trickle of the stream of stress that’s worn me down around the edges.

Over the last year or so, I’ve been on a journey to discover what it means to be still. It’s a glorious place . . . when I can find it.

What I’m struggling with, what I don’t know how to do, is be still within the hectic franticness that is life. How do you practice being still when helping your daughter study history, while your son is asking for help with spelling, and in the midst of realizing that you forgot to start dinner? Again.

The stream overflows. And that’s where I’m at. Overflowed. Continue reading “Overflowed” →