Fifty equals Freedom

Balloons-Wallpapers-7 Yesterday was my birthday. And according to many of my very heart-warming and wonderful Facebook/text/email/phone messages (thank you for ALL the b-day love!!), it’s a “landmark day.” Yes, I’m 50. Though fifty could feel old (I must admit I’ve had a few moments wondering how in the world I could be FIFTY?! So what if I’ve lost part of my hearing and am more often than not fumbling through my bag trying to locate readers – those things don’t mean anything – right?! Inside I’m still 20.) – I’m choosing to look at the bright side of mid-century. And I’ve decided to embrace all that 50 brings with it. I’m talking freedom. That’s right. Fifty equals freedom. Why wait 20 years to sink into all the great stuff that comes with age? I’m sinking into it today. I told Chris, my

So-long Lazy, Hazy… Hello Crazy

closet Like a blast of arctic air, the end of summer has smacked us in the face – leaving us stunned, feeling like the Bullet Train has literally hit and run. (Can someone get the license plate on that thing?!) Good-bye lazy, hazy days of summer. Hello crazy, tiger-by-the-tail days of I-don’t-know-what-to-call-you. Those arctic blasts have looked a little something like this from last week (since summer for 3 of our 5 ended last week – of course school can’t start for all of them at the same time, that would be too easy): Endless Searching (and by endless, I actually mean endless). “Where are my shoes?” asks child, 10 minutes before needing to be at cross-country practice. “Your shoes?” “Yeah – where are they. I’m going to be late. And I can’t wear the ones from

A Letter to May

Slide2 Dear May, Hi. How are you? I see you. It’s still April; but dearest May … could you please go away. I don’t mean to be rude. And I’m not actually saying disappear. I’m just asking you to dial down the stress level that comes when you enter the picture. Is that possible? Listen, I love you. June (freedom from to-do’s) is just around the corner from you. And your name is so happy. Promising something on the other side of saying you, like “May I have another cupcake.” Would you like two? “Why yes I would.” Because, you’re pre-swimsuit. But May, can we just state the obvious? With you comes a certain amount of agony. And I don’t want to just live to get through to the other side of you. I want to enjoy your beautiful weather and linger and savor. But those words don’t normally accompany all that you bring to the table:

Missionary Dresser … not for the faint of heart

mission dressing For those who might not know, Jon grew up on the mission field. His parents lived on a tributary of the Amazon River with an indigenous tribe called the Ese Ejas. They became family to each other. So much so, Jon’s oldest sister and her family still live in Bolivia. Mission work is in the Wyma blood. So, when Jon and I met and we realized we were falling in love, one of the first things Jon asked me was, “Do you think you could be a missionary?” I responded with an enthusiastic, whole-hearted affirmation, “Absolutely!” And I leaned into the dreamy adventure of it all. Well, it didn’t take long for Jon to question my response. His doubt might have had something to do with my reaction to a roach in our first little rental home. In my defense, that bug was huge and quite possibly flew. But, Jon just shook his head and laughed as he he killed
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