Getting Crucified?

The media loves to crucify conservative politicians. Fanatical sports fans often crucify their teams for losing streaks.  Heavy metal definately crucifies music; as for me, frequently, I crucify commas, semi-colons and metaphors.

Of course, betrayal, failure, addiction, hatred, loss, natural disaster, disease, and a myriad of other life devastations have nailed many a faithful Christian to the metaphoric cross.  I know because I’ve hung there crying out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.”

When getting crucified, church provides little comfort.  Worse, God’s existence no longer feels like a certainty.

Life … Continue Reading

Transplanting Reflections


October 27, 2013 at 10:38 a.m.

October 27, 2013:  Andrea, Mom and I woke in the hospital waiting room we’d call home for several weeks.  Deirdre was intubated and, though her kidneys were crashing and she wasn’t breathing on her own, we felt hope.  I’m grateful to our donor for the gift of perfect, pink lungs.  I’m also grateful for the hope.  Not to mention the possibilities accompanying the hope.

I’m sharing the letter Deirdre sent us, we read it while she was … Continue Reading

Forgiveness Sucks

A straw sucks. Forgiveness sucks more!

Black holes suck gas, dust and occasionally astroids.  Vacuums suck dirt.  Hypostomus plecostomus—fish commonly seen in doctors’ office aquariums—suck plant scum and dead fish debris.
Guilt sucks, too.

In Psalm 38:4 King David said, “My guilt has overwhelmed me . . . ” because, when we sin, guilt sucks away our peace of mind.  The great news?  Once we confess our sin to God, asking Him for forgiveness, we are forgiven.  Then, our guilt stops sucking.

Fortunately, God is ready to forgive 24/7. Even … Continue Reading

Dance of the Prairie Chicken

Trust me girls, this grandma knows best!

Never call a boy or pay for a date, Mom said.

You’re old-fashioned and anti-feminist, I replied.

Mom countered by describing the dance of the male greater prairie chicken.  First, the male greater prairie chicken finds a special area from where to woo.  He arrives at his venue before sunrise (early bird gets the girl).  Erecting his tail and neck feathers, the greater prairie chicken inflates the orange air sac along his throat.  Then, sending booming calls throughout the dawning prairie, he stomps … Continue Reading

My Children are NOT My Own?

Looking on my daughters, I've always thought, "Mine!"

My sister believes our children are not our own; if we’ve done our parental best, then they eventually leave home to forge happy, productive lives elsewhere.

I say, I made my daughters; they belong to me; and they can only move away if I can move with them.

After all, I endured my daughters as mewling infants, constantly demanding diaper changes and feedings.  I tolerated them as snot-nosed toddlers requiring my help in tying their shoes and learning … Continue Reading

On Vacation!

Monday, August 11th will be my next posting.  Until then, I’m on vacation, enjoying time with family and friends; writing my novel.  Enjoy these random pictures of my first weeks of summer . . .



Enjoying Shakespeare at American Players Theater.

Eating Gigi cupcakes.

Sure as the Sun Sets

Madeline's heart is set on a life in the theater.

Candlelight sets a mood; music sets a stage.

Courses are set using stars or GPSs or dreams.  And, soon after one heart is set upon another, diamonds and wedding dates are set.

We set clocks and tables.

A sailor sets his sail.  A judge sets bail.  A marathon runner sets her pace.

My grandpa never “went” anywhere, he “set out.”

We assume that which is set is secure—like a contract.  We believe that which is set is fixed—like a broken bone.

But … Continue Reading

An Argument for Overusing I Love You

Yesterday I said, I love you, to little girls . . .

My husband Richard contends saying, I love you, too often renders it meaningless.  According to Richard, actions, not words, best express love.

He’s so wrong!

Which is why I say, I love you, before hanging up the phone, after getting ready for bed, as my children leave for school and during dinner.  I even say, I love you, when I’m grumpy-stressed or temporarily dislike the person I love.

As with sunscreen, I slather on, … Continue Reading

You’re a Hoosier!

My Hoosier aunt (left) is pictured with my mom.

On the seventh anniversary of Aunt Marietta’s tenth birthday, I drove from Wisconsin to Missouri and surprised her at her favorite restaurant.

Hugging me, Auntie said, “You’re such a Hoosier!”

Makes sense, Hoosier is Aunt Marietta’s go-to descriptor for anyone, regardless of circumstances.

She dubs both brave missionaries and rude drivers Hoosiers.  When her granddaughter says something clever, funny?  She’s a Hoosier.  Once, during the nightly news, Auntie learned of a man arrested for running a brutal dog-fighting ring; as she shrieked … Continue Reading

My Vows of Omission

Richard didn't know what he was in for 15 years ago!

When pledging to have and to hold my husband, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until my dying day, I omitted the less romantic, less agreeable things I also intended to do.  Like move his stuff; finish his sentences; go to bed angry; horde chocolate; monopolize closets; consistently run fifteen minutes behind schedule; plug drains with my hair; sing at full volume in the shower; relay important information to him when … Continue Reading