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The years teach much
which the days never knew.

-RalphWaldoEmerson


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The Power of Music

Music. It tells a story, makes us smile, makes us cry, warms our hearts, consoles our hurts, tells our stories. That’s the power of music.

This morning one of my daughters sent a text, a picture of her home’s front flowerbed: hyacinths and dozens of tulips just beginning to bloom. How sweet of the Lord to give her that gift — this is the first Springtime in her new home and so the various plantings done by the previous owner are just coming into view. This is just an example

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Lists Are Tools

After writing last week how I dealt with starting out unprepared, my friend wrote about lists I used to have on my walls. So I thought I’d continue on today sharing about lists and how to use them — remembering: lists are tools, they’re simply tools.

Again, I wasn’t born organized — I’m not a naturally organized girl, but life as a mother to many children gave me much practice and many opportunities to test the results of being disorganized and being organized. And, believe me, organized was better. It’s

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Unprepared

Just so’s ya know, I’m not a naturally prepared girl — I’m more unprepared than prepared. But God. It was through many blessings in my life that I learned to be prepared for things. It was through many failures, missed events and opportunities that I had to develop methods to be better prepared for — well, for life.

But I was unprepared. I didn’t come from a large family. I wasn’t raised in a Christian home. I didn’t have a great deal of Bible knowledge yet–but I had faith and

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Jesus Saves

Freedom.

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Keeping a Journal

Keeping a journal is sure a marvelous way to watch for the Hand of the Lord in our lives. I say marvelous bcz of the many times I’ve seen the “rest of the story” or the completion of the story as I’ve gone back and reread passages written in days gone by. Had I not kept a note or had I not written a thought, a description of an event, a heartfelt prayer, or lamented a painful sorrow, I’d not have connected the beginning to the end of a trial

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Welcome Home

Welcome Home. Some of the sweetest words we all long to hear, long to read, long to know: Welcome Home.

Some of you have been reading pages of my journal for many years — some, perhaps, for the first time today. I’m glad you’re here — I’m glad you’ve been here. I’m a sporadic blogger but a daily reader and writer, and, this being the case, it’s probably disconcerting to readers to wonder when/if another entry will be written — I know it is to me. ~smile~ This past season’s

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Seasons End In Various Stages Of Bloom

I’ve been mulling over the thought of seasons ending in various stages of bloom. It was below freezing through the night and this morning and as I look out the windows of my warm home, I see all around, summer is falling to the ground. The trees are losing their leaves, many fewer on the trees today than yesterday… more all over the lawn and field. The roses, hydrangeas and other flowering plants are losing their beauty, ending in various stages of bloom.

The wood burns hot in my woodstove…

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Faith Made Surer In Trials

It’s not in the bright, carefree summer days that faith’s made sure, it’s in the rain, the cloudy days, and cold, sleepless nights, it’s in waiting rooms, empty mailboxes, sorrowful news that faith’s made surer. Faith is made surer in times of great alone-ness, struggle, steep climbs — uncharted territory. Faith made surer isn’t cheap, fleeting, emotional, cushy, easy.

More and more that it’s surer faith I desperately want — it’s surer faith I need day by day. And as I read the Word and as I read years of

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Writing Raw

Tonight I’m doing something I never do: writing raw. On purpose.

On purpose, generally, I never write raw. I write. I let it set. I come back and rewrite. If it seems pretty set, I “publish.” Tonight I’m writing raw.

Eighteen months ago a journey began here at our house. Totally uncharted territory. Big time. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know what to feel, I didn’t know what to think, I didn’t know what to say.

But time went on… and as time went on, I began

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Thousands of Pictures to Sort

I’m in the midst of an overwhelming project: I have thousands of pictures to sort. Earlier today I was standing next to a table lined with boxes into which I’m distributing the thousands of pictures. It never seemed like we took a lot of pictures. At the time.

What I remember of the early days was buying film and flash bulbs, taking pictures during special events and occasional pictures of our children’s milestones or accomplishments. And those quick get the camera adorable poses. We’d get to the end of a

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