Hope

Grief is a funny thing. Not funny ha-ha. Funny in that though its a concept –  it acts like thing, a person, a force. It inflicts pain like a punch to the gut one minute, then it weighs down as if s a 300 pound gorilla scampered up your back to snag a shoulder-ride the next. Then It morphs into twins so it can grab onto both your legs at the same time like a tantrum-toddler hanging on for dear life, refusing to let go, dragging behind so steps forward feel like trudging through quicksand. But Hope is a funny thing, too. And Hope, though a concept, goes so much further than grief. Because unlike grief, Hope IS a person. Hope gently lifts. It steadily adjusts and brings into focus Truth. It shines light. It holds back the floods & storms so the waters don’t rise over. It blocks the flames so they don’t burn. It shelters. It keeps

Never losing sight of dinner’s deeper nutritional value

Cleaning House Boot Camp: Week 1 “Get ready for some good food, Mom,” dinner-kid shouted to me from the kitchen. “I’m such a good cook, I already have my own bakery. It’s called Jack’s bakery.” “You’re making dinner,” his sister reminded him, shaking her head at the newly minted, possibly excessive confidence. “Bakeries make desserts. “Well, my food is so good – it tastes like dessert.” Bam! The fun & laughter wasn’t so much fun & laughs at our family meeting the night before. We kicked off our six-week Cleaning House boot camp of sorts to the sound of moans and groans: “What?!” “Why would we do boot-camp’?! We already know this stuff.” “You’re just trying to get us to do all the work around here.” And then someone had to throw in, “did you run out of things to write about?”

THE tale as old as time

For years my uncle, Eugene Brock (namesake for our 4th child) rounded up writers to share op-ed for our home-town newspaper (Wichita Falls Times & Record News) during Holy Week. Very sadly, my uncle Brock went home to the Lord earlier this year, so my cousin Alan Brock took over the helm. What an honor and privilege to have been included in both their line-ups. Here’s what was on my mind this year. I hope you have a very blessed Easter. Thank you for blessing my life as we walk the road together. :) In a land far, far away in a time long, long ago, a Prince and Princess lived in peace and in the absolute completeness of love and joy. Every day brought with it wonder and happiness that surpassed the fullness of the day before. The good King lavished the young royals with all he had. But mostly he loved them, unconditionally. Then one day,

Spring-Signals that Inform Life

Recently we sat in the car at a red light waiting for green. I was going on hour 2 of carpool – not because we were traveling outside of a 3-mile radius of our house, but because staggered school-end-times plus drama practice plus track practice result in lots of wait. I looked out my window and saw this tree: “Boy, that tree looks sad doesn’t,” I said to my shotgun rider. “It looks dead,” she replied. But right next it stood an almost exact replica – same height, same shape and same type of tree – but very different: Spring has sprung on the second tree (not so much for the sad-tree.) Life hidden behind an outside that looked dead has made it’s way to the surface. That’s what happens with spring. New life. Whether seen with the human eye or hidden from sight, the life that springs
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