Failure is the reason I keep going. Yet another rejection deadline has passed, and in the publishing world no news is bad news.  The frustration is strong, and I want to throw in the towel- but that just leads to more laundry! It seems as if everything I do is like banging my head on a brick wall- it gets me nowhere and it hurts! I know I have potential… I just can’t get others to see it! So I begin to make a list of motivation- what gets me to press on when I feel like I’m sinking? Failure. Yes, failure. And its impending threat from someone ready to…

Time to prep for the holidays! This time of year I am always looking for a new recipe. Do you have a favorite? Maybe its something unique. Or a family recipe passed down. Or maybe its a new twist on a holiday standard. Whatever it is, I’m sure its good! So, lets swap some goodness! Post your favorite recipe in the comments below, then scroll through to find something you want to try! Don’t forget to come back and let others know how it went! Participating in The Thanks And The Giving? Why not whip up a treat and drop it by a friends house just to let her know…

November. The month that reminds us to be thankful. To count our blessings. To gather together and say thanks. Its a time to slow down and refocus on the life in front of us. As we settle in this first day of November I can’t help but feel challenged to do more. Not more things to do, but more thanks to give. More love to give. More giving. So, this year I will focus on the thanks and the giving. Yet what do I have to give? Everything. The whispered prayers of help I offer up when the pennies are short are answered with the word give. But what do I have to give?…

I drank the milk straight from the carton this morning. Someone left the smallest amount of milk possible in the bottom of the jug, and frankly I didn’t want to dirty a glass. So, I gracefully hid behind the refrigerator door, put the carton to my lips and downed it. It felt good to break the rules of being a good housekeeper. Recently I have found myself in the midst of friends openly admitting our shortcomings of being a homemaker. Tales of laundry piled high, unmade beds, and bathrooms that need cleaned. Hearing my friends authenticity has given me the comfort that I am not a failure! And because I…

One year. I’ve been worshiping in this church plant for one full year. I’ve learned a lot from the preaching, I’ve felt loved a lot from the people, and I have become happily involved in a variety of ways. Its been a really great place to heal a broken heart. And today the worship transformed into something amazing. And it wasn’t a new song. But lets back up for a minute. My 3 children, my husband and I came here from a good sized church with a kids program with around 100 kids. And here, in this very young church plant, my children warrant nearly half the regular attending kids.…

Far too long have I listened to the voice of evil tell me I am not good enough. I have let it choke the words right out of my writing, talk me down from big projects at work and home, convince me that I am a terrible mother, and keep me in my own little world of doubt. But that ends now. Three weeks ago I was ready to launch some new material and a big project. I worked hard for days reading, writing, and researching. But life gave me a few stumbles… a sick kid, a small car issue, extra hours at work. In those small tasks of life…

Back in the day Joan Osbourne recorded the song, “What if God was One of Us,” where she poses that question- What if God were one of us? Just a slob like one of us?  Just a stranger on a bus tryin’ to make his way home?   Too often we don’t want to imagine our Holy God as a stranger on a bus. We have a hard time seeing him as a “slob” since he is called perfect.   Instead we put God in a tight box. We pack it with the beautiful language of the 16th century, touch it with white gloves, and dare not to let him…

It’s beyond capacity. It’s overflowing with random projects, school papers, craft materials, and candy wrappers from my secret stash. I was looking for something the other day and pulled open this overflowing junk drawer to find myself even more frustrated as a result of the overflow of mismatch that poured out. And instead of calmly sorting through the stuff I did what every mom of young ones did… I yelled. And then I shut it. And somehow I have a far fetched hope that the next time I open it will be different.   But it won’t.   Later that night as I sulked in my bad mood I began…