When I was a kid, my family lived close to a park with lots of grassy hills. My sister and I would lie down at the top of the hill and roll and roll and roll! The momentum of rolling was exhilarating until I got to the bottom and I was ready to roll again. The problem was that I was and still am highly allergic to grass so the thrill was a risk unto itself – with a very itchy, uncomfortable aftermath. For those of you that have read my blog from the beginning, you know that I have been married previously. So for me, this is a falling-in-love-again-for-good kind of story. Ours is a story – a forever-always – amen kind of love story. I can spend countless minutes talking about the horrific emotions of infidelity and distrust in my previous marriage but it serves no purpose other than to distract from the beautiful, chaotic love that my love and best friend, Jeff and I share. When asked what makes our marriage work, honestly the only” What” is a “Who” – God is t...

Am I the only one that seems to have no words for the unrest happening in Ferguson? I’ve tried but the ugliness throws me back into the doorway, looking at what’s going on in my community and inside my home instead of being emotionally wrapped up with all that is going on in pandemic proportions elsewhere. I’m not shutting my eyes to racism because I’ve experienced it more than I really care to think about. But what I do want to talk about is being vulnerable enough to let others into your life and those things that you are most passionate about. People hate what they don’t know or maybe want to know. People assume because assuming is easier than going up to another person and talking and REALLY finding out who you are standing beside, living next to or worshipping with. We guard our hearts from evil but we also keep others from seeing deeper into who we are for fear that we won’t be accepted. Courage is letting go of the “what ifs” and opening our arms to “why nots”. I...

As far as I can remember, I had a love for books. My mom would read my sisters and I books that seemed to come alive right before our very eyes. I l oved the sound of her voice as she read but I couldn’t wait until I was big enough to read all by myself. Summers were spent reading underneath the air conditioner or by the stereo where we would trade books with one another. The librarian knew to save books for us because they were quickly devoured and we were ready for more. I imagined life on the Banks of Plum Creek, being Margaret in Are You There God, It’s Me, Margaret or one that I often wished, The Mummy Market, a place to trade in your mom. I laughed with Ramona Quimby and became an entrepreneur with Eddie Hits Paydirt. I saw myself in each book that I read. The love of books still remains. In fact, to de-stress, one of my favorite things to do is to go to a second hand store and browse through the books. Going to the library is similar to having that first morning cup of...