Broken Glass {An Advent Lesson From the Wilderness}

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As we begin this year’s countdown to Christmas, my family and I started an Advent reading calendar to prepare our hearts and help keep our focus on the important parts of Christmas through the holiday mayhem. We’ve never done it before, as our kids have been too little to really understand, but as we sat down today with the lights twinkling and the fire roaring, it really started to feel like Christmas. As we cozied up, the storm raged outside (the RAIN storm, mind you, in 39 degree weather on the FIRST DAY OF DECEMBER – oh so festive!) and the Christmas music was playing softly in the background when our 6 year old asked, “What is ‘Advent’?” I answered without really thinking, “It’s the time leading up to Christmas that we use to prepare our hearts and remember what Christ did for us.” And in that moment, a lifetime of Scriptures and Christmas cliches culminated in a newfound revelation that brings me to where I am now, sitting at my computer, and writing to you.

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Freckle Face {Lessons I Learned In The Sun}

frecklefaceheader1So it seems it’s time for confessions and I will make mine readily: I have an awful freckle face. It hides itself in the winter, but as soon as the sun hits the daisies it pops out faster than you can say ‘go buy concealer!’ I’ve never been a huge fan of them, but they cover easily enough so they didn’t give me much trouble. But they were covered. Always. I painstakingly applied makeup to all the brown little dots morning after morning, time after time, to try to erase, or at least neutralize, the sun’s damage. It wasn’t until just recently that I ever considered doing otherwise – because, why else, freckles were meant to be covered, right? Continue reading

A Daddy’s Heart {A Father’s Day Tribute}

daddyheart1Father’s Day was always a very special day in my house growing up. All six of us kids would elbow our way into the kitchen to help mom serve up the best breakfast of the year and then fight over who got to pour his orange juice. Some lucky duck would think quick and race into the closet to deliver his bathrobe and slippers. I’m pretty sure he got non-stop back rubs from the moment he woke up until he finally peeled us off to put us to bed at night {enter the Velcro sound effect}. We would shower him with gifts, homemade cards with scribbled names and always – always – mom would initiate a craft (usually something he could wear) that had all of our hand-prints on it. If you peek in his closet today you can still see the ratty sweatshirts with fabric-paint hand outlines boasting 2, then 3, then 4 and 5 then sets of prints, names and ages. He wore them proudly and we loved to go up and find out hands throughout the year and compare how they had grown. Needless to say, we loved our dad – adored our dad – and there was one very simple reason for that: he adored us. Continue reading