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We’ve heard the saying over and over again, “Hindsight is 20/20”. Or what about, “If I knew then what I know now”. Countless times in life we look back and find ourselves thinking, “Now it all makes sense”. My friend, Sarah, and I met for supper last night. Too many months had passed since we […]

I’ve always been fascinated by quilts; especially hand-stitched ones. My grandmothers and great-grandmothers were excellent seamstresses, which means I’ve been the recipient of their labors. The beauty of the outside (or top) of the quilt only reveals part of the story; the culmination of their time and efforts. The countless hours, days, weeks, and months

Sitting around a table is one of my favorite things. Good food and good conversation make for even better memories. This weekend will be spent at these tables. You can draw a few conclusions if you look closely. Large drinking vessels, brownies, bagels, and a box of kleenex; what more could we possibly need. Right?

There’s a tension in the air. It almost feels like you can touch it. It’s at work and at the gas station. It’s in the produce section and at the school drop-off line. It’s in the booth behind you at Applebee’s and even that encounter with your neighbor at the mailbox. Chaos. Busyness. No margin.

This picture represents many things; too many to actually list here probably. But let me give a few examples, such as: a safe (but scary) place, a peaceful (but stormy) place, where I often talk to and listen to God, where I ponder the life of my dad and brother (and many others whose loss

Ladies and gentlemen, I may have outdone myself. This delectable pan of scrumptious goodness is the ultimate baked spaghetti. No joke. Hands down. A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! But this post isn’t really about the baked spaghetti; it merely served as a nice segue I think. I received a text at 6:41 am this morning. Generally speaking, when I

Fairy tales have never really been my thing. As a kid, I suppose I enjoyed Cinderella as much as the next little girl. But I wouldn’t say I was ever excited; I never really bought into the whole thing. I did, however, thoroughly enjoy The Wizard of Oz or a Sunday afternoon, after-church viewing of

The turning of another year often finds us reflecting on incredible joys, profound loss, and everything in between. I’m no different in that regard. I’m also guilty of setting goals and then pooping out by mid-February. So here I find myself again. Looking back. Examining. Frustrated at some of the silly and downright ridiculous things

I don’t remember how old I was; that dreaded first year of not believing in Santa. I also don’t remember how I responded. Was it catastrophic? Did I have a meltdown? Did I take it in stride? And although coming to a realization about Santa can certainly be a pivotal point in life, there’s something

Christmas music conjures up mixed emotions. For some, the sooner it starts playing, the better. For others, please don’t even bother. And then many of us fall somewhere in the middle. Personally, I enjoy and appreciate most Christmas music. I can listen to Harry Connick, Jr., Elvis, Mannheim Steamroller, Amy Grant, a good jazz ensemble,