Books:
Heaven and Nature Sing features 28 daily readings written by nine authors (including me!) to guide the reader through Advent. Compatible for a small group experience or individual devotional, the reflections and scripture-rooted meditations give different perspectives on the same topic: Heaven: The reality of a heavenly realm interacting with earth And: The connective nature between now and not yet Nature: The beautiful, natural created world reflecting the coming King Sing: The glory and praise due to the hope He brings to the world – Available Now on Amazon; Find out more at HeavenAndNatureSingBook.com
The Life of an Unknown Author: An Anthology on Writing and Publishing from Some of the Best Authors You Haven’t Yet Read, is a compilation of essays written for those who dream of being published, who are tired of hearing: your platform isn’t big enough. Published in October, 2022, it includes unique and highly-relatable essays by 15 authors (including me!) about why they keep writing even if few are reading. Find out more at theunknownauthorbook.com.
Strong, Brave & Beautiful: Stories of Hope for Moms in the Weeds – a compilation of 43 essays, published Fall, 2020, by the Kindred Mom team (including me!), is full of heart, grace, and vulnerable encouragement for moms who are in the thick of every stage of motherhood. (Click here for a non-affiliate Amazon link.)
At NoisyNarratives.com
Essay: Fix My Eyes
October 4, 2023 – “Which is better, one or two? Two or three? One or three?” I sit as still as possible in the leather chair staring through the phoropter as he clicks through a variety of lenses. The letters projected on the wall remain clear through the process. The eye doctor pulls the simple machine away from my face and flips the light back on. “Everything looks good,” he said, “there doesn’t seem to be any change in your distance vision this year.” Then, he hands me a card and asks me to read the miniscule letters across the bottom. I pull the card a little farther from my face and squint a minute, then laugh. “Is it that time?” I ask as he hands me a sample pair of reading glasses. I slide them on and immediately the tiny letters are clear. The difference is surprisingly great, and I purchase a pair before I leave the office. Can I read without them? I can. But it is so much easier to read and write with them! Read more here…
Essay: Timeless Tupperware
May 10, 2023 – We’ve cleared the table of our dirty dinner dishes. I stand at the kitchen sink and begin to rinse them. The scalding water cascades down each plate and fork beginning to wash away the grime. My son works next to me, unloading the dishwasher. In what has been one of his evening household chores for years, he talks as he works through his routine. He tells of his day – a funny moment between friends, the details of an upcoming project, his thoughts on his new high school football coach. “I don’t think this one got all the way clean.” The statement interrupts his stream of thoughts. He hands me the Tupperware bowl and I examine it. As he said, it isn’t all the way clean. A reddish-orange residue remains as evidence of the pizza sauce from the night before. Thinking something had blocked the steamy, soapy dish washing, I rinse it again and set it back in the dishwasher for another round. Read more here…
Essay: Homesickness
March 29, 2023 – Sleep hadn’t come easily in the hours before. I’d tossed and turned and finally found comfort curled under the blankets. Now, my eyes blinked rapidly, adjusting to the silvery light of the room. The surroundings were unfamiliar – a bed and pillows that weren’t mine, a an unfamiliar clunking sound on the other side of the wall and a darkness that wasn’t the same as the warm dark gray of nights in our room at home.
Ah yes, our hotel room, I groggily realized as I threw my covers to the side and felt my way to the restroom. I flipped on the light, blinded for a moment. I rubbed my neck, tight from the restless night’s sleep so far, and thought through how glad I was to be on vacation. But, at the same time, how much I missed home. I love to travel and don’t often deal with homesickness, but in that moment, that’s what I was… homesick. Read more here…
Essay: Ordinary Time
March 1, 2023 – I walk through the house gathering items and settling them into a plastic tub. From our fireplace mantle, I pick up a red-heart-holding gnome, whose long white beard peeks from under a tall pink cap. I grab the red throw pillow scrawled with “love” in scripted letters and fuzzy red blanket. A few more little knick-knacks and finally two ceramic fairy sized baskets of pink roses that had been nestled in a pot of succulents are packed away. Valentine’s Day has now come and gone.
In January, I walked a similar, but much more time intensive path as I packed up Christmas decorations; I’d enjoyed the red and silvers and sparkles past Epiphany. Instead of one plastic tub, that endeavor took several. Nativity scenes, tree trimmings, and stockings all fit like a puzzle into boxes and tubs. The house always feels somehow both more tidy and more empty after the Christmas holidays. To combat those feelings, I placed a few snowmen figurines in strategic places, and kept both the winter vanilla scented hand soap in the guest bathroom and the buffalo plaid placemats on the table. Read more here…
Essay: Which Voice
February 1, 2023 – On a recent Friday morning, in the darkness of the before school hours, I sink with a huff down into my favorite green paisley chair in our office. Our puppy stares at me with curious eyes and cocks her head. The house is silent, but still my soul feels it… noise, thoughts and feelings and worries clamoring for attention, a to do list waving a flag of importance.
I close my eyes and the words of The Belonging Co’s song wash through my mind, “Peace be still, say the words and I will…” I breathe this chorus as a prayer. “Peace be still, you are here so it is well…”
My mind wanders to all the times lately I’ve noticed the noise around me. I switch off the TV at night with low-level exasperation at the background noise. I linger a moment in the quiet car after everyone else has gotten out. I jump at the sound of a car racing down our street. I roll my eyes at the often-present AirPod in the ear of my son as he works on homework.
Outside sound isn’t the only culprit, though. I choose to purposefully turn my ear to the noise often, too. I flip on a podcast or an audio book when I fold laundry. My son and I add a musical soundtrack to every drive via his latest Spotify playlist.
In the midst of all this though, I acknowledge, compared to the world outside, my home is relatively quiet.
But, do I allow it to be quiet enough to hear God’s whispers, to feel His peace? Read more here…
Essay: Now It Feels Like Christmas
December 21, 2022 – “Want to help me decorate the house for Christmas?” I ask my son over breakfast – a steaming bowl of berries and oatmeal for me and a bowl of dry Cocoa Puffs for him.
He considers for a moment, while I hold my red mug, which touts itself in white lettering as a “Cup of Cheer,” and I pray he says yes. I’m looking forward to making a memory with him since our days have been packed with activities lately and I’m longing for the cozy feelings of Christmas to enter our home.
“Can I watch the noon kick-off of the football game first?” he counters, and I agree.
Minutes later I rinse our breakfast bowls, refill my mug and drag boxes of decorations out of the closet under the stairs and into the living room.
As is our tradition, I start with our nativity. Holding each piece gently, I nestle them into the familiar scene on the mantle and surround it with twinkling lights and tulle. “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth, peace to those on whom his favor rests,” I recite in whisper and prayer. Lord, may we find your peace in this season. Read more here…
Essay: Salty Tacos and Conversations
November 2, 2022 – I slit open the plastic film and flip the package of ground beef into my crock pot. After a quick wash of my hands, the lid on top, turn the pot to high and walk away to work on laundry and check in on the football game on TV. A few hours, and a couple of stirs later, I open the crock pot to several pounds of fully cooked (now ready for nights I need to pull together a quick meal) ground beef. Feeling accomplished, I pack it all away in meal size portions to cool and freeze.
Later that week, mentally high fiving myself for my meal planning, I pull the meat out for tacos for dinner. I reheat the beef until it’s sizzling, add taco seasoning and warm up the taco shells. My husband has a work event tonight, so we’re eating in shifts. In the first round of dinner, my son and I build our tacos with refried beans, shredded cheese, and an extra dab of avocado jalapeno dip for me. He fills me in on his day as he makes his tacos – beans, meat and cheese only for him. We take our first bites and both of us pause. The taco meat is close to flavorless. I glance over at the counter, the taco seasoning still sits next to the taco toppings. Suddenly, it dawns on me. The ground beef has no salt. We add a few shakes from the saltshaker and continue our meal with much better tasting tacos. I warn my husband before he builds his tacos later that evening. But I wonder, even with a variety of other seasoning, how the taco meat could be so flavorless when only missing the salt? Read more here…
Essay: Altars of Remembrance
October 5, 2022 – My heart pumps to the rhythm of the bass as music thumps and swells energy through the crowd. We stand in a sea of golden clad fans, a smattering of those in green add to our numbers. The fall sun pleasantly warms our backs and the shade, cast by the stands above us, approaches with the promise of a beautiful early fall afternoon.
Red fireworks crack overhead during the national anthem, and the crowd thunders as green flares shoot into the sky following the school song. The players sprint onto the field through an arch of flares; the jumbo tron thunders, blaring music and highlights from previous games. The video begins with a grainy black and white clip, then a montage of decades of tackles and hits, scenes of trophies raised high, green and gold confetti falling, the opponent falling short and winning scoreboards. The pre-game hype video leaves the crowd cheering, yelling, ready to play!
Moments in history. Tradition. Remembrance. Read more here…
Essay: Engage in Their Obsession
May 11, 2022 – “Momma! Momma, will you help me find the missing one?” My growing-too-fast boy kneels in the dining room chair leaning on his elbows across the table as he surveys the colorful plastic toy bits sorted in piles across the table. A white sheet draped across the dark wooden table protects it for this building project. Patches of sunlight dance across it in the afternoon light. His chubby little boy fingers sweep through the rainbow of pieces looking for a single brick to complete this step in a long instruction book.
I sit beside him, his face full of concentration, as he found the missing piece. Mesmerized at his intensity, I stare too long. He looks up, grins and then goes back to work.
Hours later, with only quick bursts of conversation with me, the project is complete – a bright yellow castle with characters and moving pieces. I snap a picture of him with his work to show off to his grandparents. His proud smile lights up the frame.
Colorful plastic bricks are his obsession in this season. Read more here…
Essay: Breathe In, Breathe Out
March 30, 2022 – Standing at the sink, I fill up a spray bottle for my Sunday evening routine: watering the few plants I attempt to keep alive – four succulents, a small potted cypress tree, and a Christmas cactus. I move through the house, checking on each one as I offer it a little moisture and care. The two succulents seem to be doing well in the flat white pot surrounded by miniature models of creatures from Eric Carle’s books. The whimsical potted birthday present has survived close to a year and brings me joy each time I walk by.
Next, I move on to the cypress tree. He needs to be repotted to continue growing. I add that task to my mental to do list but am thrilled to see he remains green another Sunday.
I make my way to the Christmas cactus and notice the leaves are no longer plump and full. They’ve begun to look withered, wrinkled and limp. I furrow my brow and spend extra time spraying water all through the plant, hoping it is just thirsty, but knowing it was just watered a week ago.
For the next week, I watch it closely. Still the green stems wither, continuing to fall limp around the side of the pot. After some research I learn the culprit is likely one of three things: over watering causing root rot, under watering, or the root ball was so tangled and hard the water isn’t seeping in to nourish the plant. Read more here…
At TheUncommonNormal.com
Essay: From the Grateful Heart of a High School Football Mom
October 14, 2021 – I clench my hands together and lean forward on the metal stands, my eyes focused on the boy in the black cleats. The ball snaps. He pushes forward. The running back flies through tackles for another gain. In my excitement, I yell and cheer and stomp my feet.
Tonight, the air crackles with excitement. The score is close, the evening weather is cool with the first hints of fall, and our boys are playing hard, scrappy football. We get a win. Hugs, cheers, and the fight song ripple through the stands. My phone buzzes, full of celebratory texts with other mommas anxiously waiting on scores and game updates.
After the victory, in a moment of reflection, my heart fills with gratitude for all we’ve learned—and are continuing to learn—within this game. Read More Here…
At ChristianParenting.org
Essay: Determine My Steps: Pause, look, consider & rest in the Lord
July 20, 2021 – His wavy, blonde hair was damp and tousled, and his cheeks were flushed. I couldn’t help but smile at both signs of a quality afternoon nap as he reached for me to pick him up.
I pulled him into my lap, then leaned back on the barstool. He snuggled in against me. His fingers twirled through my hair as he finished waking up, and I finished watching the lecture video for my online class.
His hair still smelled faintly of chlorine after his swim lesson this morning. His blue eyes were still glassy with sleep. I kissed the top of his head and shut down my laptop.
“Wanna go bye-bye?” I asked him. “Momma needs a Dr Pepper.” “Momma needs a Dr Pepper?” he repeated. I grinned. Read more here…
At Joyful Life Magazine:
Essay: Goodbye to Summer Days
August 28, 2020 – I stood to stretch before readjusting the towel covering the hot tile next to the pool. The towel now straightened under me, I sat criss-cross and watched my growing-too-fast boy glide through the water and grab the diving sticks I’d thrown for the 452nd time.
He popped up next to me, dripping water and grinning, “Count again, Momma! See if I can do it faster!”
I took another sip of sweet tea, and half-heartedly obliged his request, tossing the sea creature shaped torpedo back into the water. Down again he went.
I silently wondered why my heart was sour. The sun beat down from a clear blue sky. My summer was coming to a close, but I wasn’t due to report back to school for the new school year for another week. Fresh-baby-faced pre-kindergarteners would fill my days soon, but for now the lazy days of summer were still in full swing… Read more here
Essay: Lord’s Prayer for the Unsettled Heart
April 14, 2020 – My shoulders sagged and my eyes brimmed with tears. The light from the evening sun revealed dusty floors and crumbs on the counter. My hands jerked through each motion of cooking, serving, and cleaning up dinner. With each clank of plate against plate, shifting and uneasy thoughts shook my soul: Everyone has everything a little better. Everyone has more fun with their children, more time with their husbands, better relationships with friends, better jobs, better physical bodies, better houses... The endless list ate away at my heart.
I shoved the last spoon into the dishwasher and haughtily announced I was taking the dog for a walk. I grabbed her leash and headed out the door, nearly slamming it behind me. Yanking the leash to turn down our familiar path, I wearily hoped the sunshine, fresh air, and quiet would warm the chill in my heart. As I rounded the corner, my tumultuous thoughts turned to tears. The tears morphed into prayers. Instead of my usual thank you for this and that and requests for him or her, the familiar phrases of the Lord’s Prayer met the rhythm of my steps… Read more here
At Kindred Mom:
Essay: Growing Back Together
September 10, 2020 – I pull into a parking space facing the doors of the coffee shop, put the car in park, and freeze. Butterflies flit through my stomach and up into my throat. I run my sweaty palms up and down my thighs and take a deep breath. I see her pull into one of the front parking spots, gather something from her passenger seat, and walk in.
Meeting one of my oldest friends shouldn’t feel this way, but—other than her email invitation for coffee—we haven’t spoken in years.
When I saw her email, I thought it might be a scam or she’d been hacked. We hadn’t communicated in what seemed like forever, so why would she reach out now? But something nudged me to open the message anyway. It started simply enough: “Hey, it’s been a really long time, but I’ve been thinking about you.” My eyebrows shot up and my jaw dropped a little. I will do almost anything to avoid conflict, so opening back up a line of communication which had been conspicuously silent felt risky. “Maybe we could grab a coffee and catch up?”
My mind flashed back to our last conversation at her going away party, the awkward way I felt and the blunt way she’d tried to hold me to a higher standard. “It feels like I don’t know you anymore,” she’d muttered sadly.
“Well, maybe you don’t,” I retorted. Read more here…
Essay: Learning to Love Peaceful Silence
March 5, 2020 – Delicious campfire smoke filled the air and covered my clothes. The air was cool for a summer night, and the inky black country sky stretched as far as I could see. Stars like pinpricks of bright lights winked above. I sat perched on a log surrounding the orange glow, with legs stretched out before me. The flames warmed the cool summer night. I stared into the blaze, listened to the quiet strum of a guitar and the youth leader’s words.
“You are your truest self when it is quiet—in the night before you go to sleep or in the morning as you wake. That is where God will meet you. The place where you are still and quiet.”
I soaked in the words and wondered how that would be possible when I didn’t like the quiet—or the alone… Read more here
Essay: Our Collective Strength
September 19, 2019 – “I’d recently gone back to full-time teaching and our weekday pace was frantic. My growing-too-fast boy lounged on the couch with eyes glued to the television. I wished for a moment he’d chosen a different mode of relaxation, but instead of asking him to turn it off, I snuggled in beside him to finish off my coffee.
Instead of cartoons, he had chosen a documentary featuring animals of the Savannah on one of the animal and science channels. Within moments I was riveted, and my heart raced.
In the video, a small band of Cape buffalo meander along a riverbank when a contingency of lions attack. The lions grab a baby buffalo as it falls into the water. The adult buffaloes take off running. I gasped, unable to take my eyes off the chaotic scene on the television. The situation goes from bad to worse for the baby buffalo as the camera pans to the water and I spy two beady reptile eyes. In a blink, I hear a snap!
I screamed and grabbed my boy’s hand. “Oh, my goodness! Is the baby going to get torn in two?” At which point, he rolls his eyes and says, “Just watch!” … Read more here
At ChickeningIn.com
Essay: Courageously Embracing the ‘New Normal’ of the Workplace
April 14, 2020 – I glanced around. The faces of my co-teachers were somber. The mood of the room heavy and full of worry. Spread out, one person at a table to keep to the prescribed social distancing of the day, we wondered, “Could we make digital learning work for our kids?”
Finding my own table, I set down my bags, opened my computer and prayed, “Lord, your Word tells us in the stories of Joshua and of Solomon to be ‘strong and courageous.’ Fill us today with the same strength and courage.” (This article and chickeningin.com is no longer available online, please email me for additional copy.)