Giving up is not an option. Cutting off all contact is not an option. Negating or negotiating wrong choices is not an option. Reversing the damages is not an option — that is to say, whatever precipitated the wrong choices is done. You cannot recreate the past. If you made stupid parenting decisions, if you weren’t there as a parent, if you messed up — whatever — you have to get past the idea that you can, today, make your yesterdays or their yesterdays any different. But you
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Over the years, standing at the sink many times each day, I’ve seen the most remarkable sights… all the changes each season brings. Through the years, I’ve become aware of what changes will come about in each of the different months. I look for what each new season brings–eagerly anticipating the blooms that will soon appear all over the yard… the tiny new, elegant leaves of the giant old weeping willow tree, the daffodils that will soon dance around the base of that old tree.
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I love blue and white things. Blue is my favourite colour. It’s not my favourite mood, though I struggle with that one. Sometimes, a lot. Blue is my favourite for hydrangeas, dishes, gemstones, berries, skies and seas. And though I mostly prefer to wear pink and black now, navy clothing has long been pretty much the only colour I’ve worn.
So you can imagine, that when I went to my first Basic seminar (wearing my favourite colour and that favourite colour was the colour of
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A beautiful image is brought to my mind as I think of… a patient woman. Conversely, what an ugly image is brought to mind at the thought of an impatient woman. It takes me no time to bring up recollections of impatience (on my part or on the part of another). But what I seek is for ready responses of patience – patient thoughts, patient replies to requests, patient understanding.
So beautiful is the woman who patiently waits, patiently listens, patiently answers, patiently watches, patiently
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“Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations: That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ:” –1Peter 1.6-7
There seems to be no lonelier place than the den of rejection — few trials more painful and few trails more uncertain. And for us, as Christian women –
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As I read year-end letters, more Christmas cards and letters, headlines and articles, a common theme is always revisited this time of year — sure as New Year’s resolutions, are the slogans and affirmations: Out with the old, in with the New! This Year’s the Year for You! The sentiments may have very different motivation, very different context, but the intent is the same: This year’s going to be the best year ever!
And they always are. Today.
Today is the first day of the New Year…
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I know. I’d probably grimace if one of my kids started an essay: “Stuff’s going to work out.” But, it’s on my mind today: stuff — and how it works out. But I want to begin by saying: stuff’s probably not going to work out how you thought it would — or even how you hoped it would — but, truly, in the end, stuff’s going to work out.
Last year, the year you’ve heard me describe as the most sorrowful year of my life, I
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