High Water Mark

As I write this blog entry, the city of New Orleans is marking the thirteenth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. On August 29, 2005, Katrina came ashore just east of the city. For those of us in the area, we breathed a sigh of collective relief as peril appeared to skirt around us.

Then . . . the levees broke. Read more

In Too Deep – Part 2

Last week, the Awesome rescue of a Thai youth soccer team captivated our hearts as the feel-good-story of the decade.  Yesterday, the boys and their coach were released from the hospital and are headed home a day earlier than expected. “Awesome” is capitalized purposefully in describing the events, as I can’t help but to see God’s fingerprints all over that rescue.

If you believe like I do that God intervened to make the rescue of the Wild Boars possible, then there is a corollary that we must also acknowledge: Read more

Life Doesn’t Feel Fair

My daddy loved little reminders. He carried the same old, worn pictures in his wallet for decades. Joe Rudd was the kind of guy who made refrigerator magnets to commemorate holidays. He wanted us to remember the moments after they had passed.

Daddy also liked books, poems, and pithy sayings. The sound of “if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right” still lands impatiently upon my ears. One of his favorite poems was by Mary Stevenson. (Who? Trust me. You know this one.) Read more

Coping with Life’s Labor Pains

Time is such a funny thing. Not sure about you, but I couldn’t wait for time when I was younger. I wanted to do everything before its time.

Then time speeds up. Where’d it go? We find ways to turn back the hands of time. How can we get it back? There’s not enough of it.

There is one phase of adulthood when time shifts – when you have children of your own. Read more

The Path of Hope is Muddy

Who hasn’t had to memorize “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening?” What 7th or 8th grader hasn’t had to study “The Road Not Taken?” Robert Frost is one of the great American poets studied by school children across the nation.

What does “The Road Not Taken” have to do with grief or loss?

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

What if your “yellow wood” is your home office in the wee, dark hours after a horrible accident has taken your youngest daughter’s life? A “yellow wood” could just as easily be the backseat of the car as your mother takes you home after seeing the team doctor. Homes are awfully lonely in the wake of divorce – even when bathed in yellow sunshine. Read more

To Everything There is a Season …

It was a Tuesday in January 1998. This was the day. It had finally arrived. I could say that I had been waiting for this day since May 1997 when we got a plus sign on the little stick but the truth is that I had been waiting for this day for much longer. For as long as I could remember, I wanted to be a mom. I wanted a baby, and now – the day was here. Years of longing and months of anticipation were finally going to be satisfied.

January 27, 1998. The day that I became a mom. The day that Megan was born. The day that my life changed forever. Read more

#BiscoffsforBrooke – A Little Kindness Goes a Long Way

Monday started out like a typical day. My phone dinged a few times letting me know that I had a couple of packages waiting for me in the downstairs delivery lockers. No biggie. One of the things about apartment living – we order a lot more of our goods online. I was expecting several packages. (I even have a special folder in my email account to keep up with what has yet to be delivered.)

I headed downstairs with my trusty codes to unlock the lockers. I opened the first locker. Delivery from Williams-Sonoma. Check. I opened the second locker. Huh? The return address was foreign to me. Who do I know in Georgia? The box didn’t match the size of any of my anticipated deliveries. It was addressed to my full legal name. It’s not my birthday. I wasn’t expecting anything from the government. Read more