I read this comic strip this morning and while a few of the children here laughed, I didn’t laugh.   we spend years attempting to train up our children, they cry when we leave and rejoice when we return.  They cling to our skirts and hang out at the bathroom door waiting for us to get finished in there so that they can hand us dandelions and give us sloppy kisses and then… one day it sort of just happens… and they’re independent, they have their own life… (at least some of the time).  We’re never ready for it when it…

It’s a quiet day here in our home – not much different than any other day.  Oatmeal, dishes, laundry, scrubbing potties, sweeping, mopping and thinking.  I mull over the topics discussed at the monthly “Titus 2” meeting last night.  Like the blast of cold air that makes you gasp when you open the back door on a blustery winter day, I recognize over and over that I’m living in the margin. It’s wide, uncharted territory for me. Out of the game, I watch from the side lines – my mantra over and over:  I can’t believe how fast it all…