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Showing posts from February, 2017

Slow - Five Minute Fridays

Interruptions slow.
Interruptions are detours that weave you through backstreets like stray ribbons.
Sometimes backstreets refresh.  You see different parts of the neighborhoods you pass every day.
I'm okay with detours if I'm not in a mad rush to get somewhere.
We get figurative detours almost every day.
Perhaps not roads that twist us through communities and thwart our fast attempts to get to our destination. Extra tasks emerge that we weren't expecting, lost items to search for, or perhaps a sweet friend on our doorstep. 
Wednesday found me mentally checking off items in my head.  I had seemed to be more productive than usual. 
I started to walk down stairs to grab towels out of the dryer quickly so that I could make a trip to the grocery store.  I heard my name being called.
"Hey Somer!" I heard a recognizable voice call out through the noise of my chattering four year old and one year old. 
I walked back upstairs and saw my sweet friend Rachelle in m…

Sister Birthdays

The four sisters in my life share birthday weeks.
Two in February.
Two in July. 
Both within a few days of each other.

This week my sister of the heart celebrated her birthday and so does my real sister.
It's funny.  I've joked with both women about February.  And how much we love it.
It's that short and sweet love themed month.
It fits because two of the most loving people I know begin their story in February.

Heart Sister.
I never knew when I met her that I would become intricately connected to her.
I remember being intimidated by her, but surprised by how kind she was to me.
Of course I was intimidated.  She is stunning. Naturally bright blonde hair and equally bright blue eyes.
Recently, I was at a dinner party and someone asked the question, "Who is the kindest person you know?" It was supposed to be a question to ponder, but instantly I whispered her name.
I didn't have to think about it.  It was an automatic response because it was the truth …

French Kids Eat Everything by Karen Le Billon (Books to Read)

Sometimes after mulling over books to read you decide upon a title that seems like a wildcard.  It’s not your normal story line or genre.  And sometimes that’s a great thing! French Kids Eat Everything by Karen Le Billon was my wild card read.  The cover and title captured my attention.  I was intrigued by the idea that any kids ate everything.  A foreign concept in my world.   Author, Karen Le Billon takes you on a journey.  This journey is the account of her year spent away from Canada and living in Brittany, France.  Le Billon has two children and is married to a Frenchmen.  The story details their attempts to mesh with French food culture, especially in the realm of feeding her children the French way. She has humor generously sprinkled throughout this book. You smile at her attempts to gain ground in healthy eating that solidly lands her in a myriad of mishaps. She’s transparent about the struggles she has melding into a new culture and doing things that those surrounding her do w…

Fires & Forgiveness

Early Autumn found me praying daily, hourly about forgiveness.
I was praying it for myself and declaring that I offered it to others.
I was praying for other's to find there way to it's release. 
Forgiveness was the pulse throbbing through my mind.
We have all had moments, seasons, and offenses that make us justifiably unforgiving.  We are the wronged and we writhe with the call for justice.  Messages on forgiveness sear us, prick us, and irritate us.
But when you do wrong and need forgiveness like you need oxygen to take your next breath you start to explore the topic with intensity.
You see yourself in great need of forgiveness and you see those who have hurt you as your equal.  Those that you have withheld forgiveness from in the past now seem to be sharing your same patch of ground. You now stand with them like a penniless beggar bankrupt without forgiveness.
You stop seeing yourself as the wronged only, but now you have joined the group of wrongdoers.

One early Oc…

Special Birthday

Three weeks ago marked nine years of Meredith.  Whenever January 21st rolls around memories flood.  
She’s the baby I always marvel over has reached another year.  That we made it another three hundred sixty five days. That now nine years stretch out between the days before I was a mom, when I was still twenty-two and not responsible for much.   Meredith has always been a grace to me. Her middle names fits. She still is.  When I think about succumbing to despair I start to think about her gray green eyes looking for mine.  The way  she still curls up in my lap and reaches for my hands.  Her long slender fingers threading through mine.  I think about her when I think about giving up. I think about the way she looks at me and the tender heart that hides under her nonchalant attitude. Meredith experienced much growth this year.  She gained confidence which is no small feat considering her normal shyness.  She started to excel in reading thanks to her new tutor that is imbibing her with bel…