The Bright Eyed Brunette

 Good Monday morning, friends! I hope you all had a great weekend. The First Day of Spring brought the most beautiful weather thus far. Highs in the mid 80's. It was downright hot in the sun, but you know I love the heat. Carl was off on Friday and we made flexible plans to go to Fort Worth and stay thru Sunday, but you know what can sometimes happen: life. We tried to make the best of it and just got a few things done around here on Friday.  Carl is also celebrating his 30 year work anniversary sometime in the next few weeks. I am proud of him. He is honest, loyal, and works hard. His bosses are pretty good to him. He deserves more, but I guess that goes along with a lot of jobs. On Friday evening we put Makena's raised bed together. She is also planting in the ground as well as my grandpa's old wheelbarrow. She is pretty good with plants. I, on the other hand, have a black thumb. And Trey got his chickens this weekend! He got 19 Rhode Island Red hens, and 1 Barred Rock ro...

 Let's just say it: church would be perfect...if it weren't for people. Kidding. (Mostly). The truth is, church is a beautiful, messy gathering of imperfect humans trying to follow a perfect Savior. Which means at some point, you will encounter that person. You know the one. The human equivalent of a squeaky pew. The one who corrects your grammar in prayer request, critiques the potluck macaroni, and somehow has "just a thought" after every business meeting.  So how do we deal with difficult people in church without losing our sanity? Well, this one my kind of hurt, but remember you might be that person  to someone else. Before you get too comfortable pointing fingers, let's pause. Somewhere, someone has probably sighed deeply after talking to us. Humbling? Yes. Necessary? Also, yes. Grace goes both ways. If we want it, we have to give it! Another thing to remember is that church is not heaven. You may just need to readjust your expectations. There are people of a...

 Every year on March 17, the world turns green. There are parades, shamrocks, Irish music, and an endless supply of green shirts. But behind the festivities of St. Patrick's Day is a story that is deeply rooted in Christian faith.  Many people celebrate the day without ever thinking about the man it's really named after--St. Patrick. His story isn't really about luck or leprechauns. It's about redemption, forgiveness, and the quiet power of sharing the gospel.  My leprechaun, Trey Patrick wasn't born in Ireland. In fact, he was born in Roman Britain in the late 300's. As a teenager, he was kidnapped by Irish raiders and taken to Ireland where he was forced to work as a shepherd. Those lonely years in the fields changed him. Patrick later wrote that during that time he began praying constantly and turning toward God in a way he never had before. His faith deepened in the middle of hardship. Eventually he escaped and made his way home. Most people would have close...

 Happy Monday, good friends! I hope you all had the best weekend. It was pretty low-key around here. On Friday, I watched Wrenley all day. I hadn't seen her in a whole week, so I was really needing my girl!  She was watching my uncle's new dog, Skipper in our yard. We ate McDonald's for breakfast. She wanted a McGriddle and a hashbrown. We went to Nanny and Pop's house and played all morning. Then Carl came home around 12 for the day. We "rested" for about an hour and then it was back to playing! We had a tea party.  She mostly just like drinking her tea from a spoon and making a mess. Then we took a ride on the Ranger She laughed and squealed because Boone came with us and ran in a big puddle of water. Carlie and Caleb came and brought some take-out plates from a fish fry at the Christian school my kids attended when they were younger. Then she went outside and looked at where we are going to plant the garden. Somehow, she slid down and got mud all over her w...

Yesterday I made a classic mistake. I said the words every small-town person eventually regrets: “I’m just running to town real quick.” Now if you live in a big city, a quick trip to town probably means you go to the store, get what you need, and come home. But in a small town, that’s not how it works. A trip to town is not an errand. It is an event. It started out simple enough. I needed one thing. Just one. I told myself I’d be in and out in fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes later I was still in the parking lot. Because the first thing that happened was I saw someone I knew. Now in a small town you don’t just wave and keep walking. That would be rude. So we stopped and talked for a minute, which naturally turned into ten minutes. We covered everyone’s health, the weather, someone’s garden, and whether the rain last week was good for the hay. Then I finally made it inside the store. That’s when I ran into someone else I knew. This conversation began with, “How have you been?” and someh...

 Some weeks call for a long list of things to do. Other weeks feel like they need something different-- something a little softer than a schedule full of tasks and expectations. This week, instead of focusing on everything that has  to get done, I'm keeping a simple wish list. Not goals. Not deadlines. Just a few small things I'm hoping to make space for in the days ahead. A Quiet Morning. I'm hoping for at least one morning this week that isn't rushed. The kind of morning where the house is still, and the day hasn't started pulling in a dozen different directions yet. Just a few quiet minutes to think, pray, and ease into the day. Time Outside.  Even if it's just a short walk or a few minutes standing in the yard, I'd like to spend a little time outside this week. Fresh air has a way of clearing your mind and reminding you that the world is bigger than whatever is crowding your thoughts. A Good Conversation. Life moves quickly, and sometimes conversations g...