Savoring

This early morning we sat snuggling under layers of cozy quilts on the porch.  Morning coffee steaming in our mugs, we breathed the crisp new fall air. 

Knee-high socks have made their reappearance after a summer slumber in my bureau. 

Autumn is here, friends.  We're bringing out our quilts and brewing hot pots of coffee.  We're looking forward to snuggling in front of the crackling fireplace; and yes, every now and then even breaking out in a Christmas carol or two.  Pumpkins adorn our mantel and a cute chubby glass owl rests among the gourds there.

It's a fresh season; a fresh day.  Get out there and embrace it!  Or rest quietly wrapped in a faded quilt.  Either way; savor this day.

"I will be glad and rejoice in You; I will sing the praises of Your name, O Most High."  ~Psalm 9:2

Enjoy today,

 P.S.  You are welcome here!  Thank you for stopping by for a visit.  Feel free to join the conversation by leaving a comment and sharing your thoughts.

Catching the Drips

"Pling.  Pling.  Pling."

You know the sound.  A faucet that is turned on and just won't turn off.

"Pling.  Pling."

This is what hit my ears when my feet hit the ground Sunday morning. 

I grasped the cold metal handle and raised it.  Lowered it.  Shifted it to the right; then left. 

Pushed it all the way down.  Eased it up ever so slowly.

"Pling."

There's no escaping it.  My faucet needs repair.

I stared at it.  Prayed over it.  I let my husband know we would need to fix it.

What else to do?

Gathering up my houseplants in my arms, I brought them in, one by one, and allowed them to sit under the slow and continuous drip.  

This drip that annoys me; it provides a nice long soaking bath for my dry plants.  They loved it.  Sat there for hours and just drank it in. 

Look around with open eyes.  Are there any drips you can catch today?  

Enjoy today,

 P.S.  You are welcome here!  Thank you for stopping by for a visit.  Feel free to join the conversation by leaving a comment and sharing your thoughts.

Unleashing Joy

"Don't put the kids to bed yet.  We're waiting on a phone call."

"Dad!  What is it?  What are we waiting for?"  Our three children clamor around Josh, tripping over each other's sentences.

"Guys.  It's mom's birthday weekend..  No questions."

Approximately 17 minutes later (no, really, I wasn't counting) the phone rang.

"All right, gang.  Hop in the van!" 

We parked in the darkened drive of a house a few miles down the road.  Mac greeted us with outstretched hand, wide smile.  "Here it is, buddy.  What do you think?  Is it what you were looking for?"

My heart leapt into my throat even as I kept my well-trained Craig's List poker face on.  I turned and gazed big-eyed at Josh.

Mac was running his hand over the smooth finish of a well-worn piano nestled in his garage.  Nothing fancy;  no bells or whistles.  Just a simple instrument that has been cared for and loved.

"We've built a new house down in Carolina; and well, there's just no place for it anymore." 

Transaction complete, we settled on a pick-up day this weekend. 

Now let's go ahead and lay something on the table.  I am no prodigy.  Far from it.  I took lessons for maybe three years or so back in elementary and middle school from a music professor at a local college. 

I practiced my thirty minutes a day and plunked out Christmas carols for passersby in a shopping mall.  I dressed fancy for recitals and critiques.  I experimented with all the different sounds on my mom's synthesizer when they first came out in the 80's. 

And I remember the day my parents were out and I was angry with my brother.  Tears streaming down my purple face, I rushed pell-mell to the piano bench.  I threw myself down hard with the strength that only an offended middle school girl can possess. 
 I whipped open my music book to Beethoven's "Ode To Joy" and pounded hard the keys.  Each note crashed a forceful staccato; I am sure in no way like the great master intended for it to be played.  But I think he would understand nonetheless.

Beethoven

I sat there long, the same notes over and over again pouring out.  As my tears slowly began to dry, the music beneath my fingers gradually found a smoother rhythm.  After about 45 minutes of  the same song, the storm had subsided into a beautiful melody flowing through my fingertips. 

There is something special that happens in a soul when music is created.  It's far more powerful than simply listening to music.  Something is unlocked that perhaps at other times is closed.  Music has a way of revealing the mysterious and unleashing joy.  

And so, I await the delivery of my new-old piece of beauty.  And I hug my husband, the man who understands my yearnings and desires.  

Enjoy today,

P.S.  You are welcome here!  Thank you for stopping by for a visit.  Feel free to join the conversation by leaving a comment and sharing your thoughts.

A-1, Class Act

Yesterday Caleb and I had the privilege of sharing the heart and mission behind www.lavameclean.com with a group of senior adults at a local church luncheon. 

All set to head out to our speaking engagement

Caleb helped me with the technology when I didn't know which button to push.  He sat next to me during the potluck and used his best manners.  He oversaw the contest we ran for those in attendance.

Can I just tell you how much I love this boy? 

He was top-notch.  In fact, as we were leaving, two of the gentlemen shook his hand and told him he was an "A-1, class act".  Now that is a fine compliment. 

Beaming with joy and satisfaction in his job well done, Caleb packaged up our soaps and poplar trays in boxes and hauled them off to the trunk of our car.  Each time I neared the door, arms loaded with supplies, he would rush ahead of me and hold the door wide. 

I gave him a big thank you hug and a crisp $10 bill for all of his efforts throughout the day. 

And then I thanked God.  I thanked him for this boy that I see ever so gradually growing into a man. 

9 years old.  9 years!  That's halfway to 18 and college!  What?! 

Grateful.  I remain grateful for each and every moment I spend with him:  knowing, teaching, loving, playing, admonishing, growing, disciplining and enjoying.  Parents, we are blessed indeed.  

"Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from Him."  Psalm 127:3

Enjoy today,

P.S.  You are welcome here!  Thank you for stopping by for a visit.  Feel free to join the conversation by leaving a comment and sharing your thoughts.

An Unexpected Surprise

A few years back, I purchased some material to make some fall aprons.  I carefully chose my fabrics and was so inspired by the rich hues and autumn patterns.  I just couldn't wait to get started!

That night I ironed the fabric and got to work.  Measuring and snipping while music played in the background, the scissors and fabric were scattered all about.  Inspiration was thick in the air.

About 15 minutes into my project, I started lining up the pieces I had cut and realization began to set in.  I had trimmed them all wrong.  In my haste and excitement, I had made a major mistake with the pattern and now couldn't finish the aprons.  

I sat staring (possibly a bit forlornly) at the fabric and mourned the aprons that would not be.  What a waste.

As I looked longer, though, a new idea began to simmer. 

I quickly began turning my fabric this way and that, and a nice fall throw quilt for our couch started to come together.

Our family's favorite fall quilt

Adding some cotton batting on the inside and a thick layer of tan corduroy on the back, I quilted it all together with a stipple pattern. 

The finished product quickly became our family's favorite fall quilt, and we look forward to bringing it out of the attic each autumn to enjoy during the crisp weather. 

Quilt in the morning mist

Try turning over a problem today and looking at it in a new light.  Perhaps it was actually meant to be something other than what you had originally planned.  

Enjoy today,

P.S.  You are welcome here!  Thank you for stopping by for a visit.  Feel free to join the conversation by leaving a comment and sharing your thoughts.

Words of Life

"I will speak words of life."
"I will speak words of life."
"I will speak..."

The sentences scrawled five times across the blackboard in a childish hand.  Apparently, a minor altercation had ensued when I was absent from the room.  Based on the story relayed to me, I gathered that the perpetrator had accused a younger sibling of "whining like a baby" when they were having a hard time with their school work.

We had a short discussion on the merits of speaking blessings and encouragement over one another, and then the consequence followed of dreaded blackboard writing.

Did you know that we hold the power of life and death in our tongues? 

It's true. 

"The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit."  ~Proverbs 18:21

Here's the thing.  Whenever I seek to teach my children a lesson, the Holy Spirit always begins to roll it around in my heart and head as well.

And so this, this is what has been passing through my being the past few days:  "I will speak words of life...I will speak words of life...I will speak words of life."

There are always words of blessing the Lord can bring to our mind to speak over another person.  Even when it's hard.  Even when we think there may be none.  They're there. 

Try it.  Ask God for words of life that you may speak over another person created in His image today.  And when He answers you; speak them. 

We have no idea just how deeply those words could minister to another person's heart.

Enjoy today,

P.S.  You are welcome here!  Thank you for stopping by for a visit.  Feel free to join the conversation by leaving a comment and sharing your thoughts.

Your Purple Crayon

"Mama?"

"Yes, honey?"

I paused in the doorway, turning back around to answer my youngest.

Five-year-old Isaac looked up at me, smiling, "Is 'Harold and the Purple Crayon' real?"

"What do you mean, Isaac?"

"I mean, did it really happen?  With the purple crayon?  CAN it really happen?"

I smiled gently, casually.  "No, baby.  It's not real.  It's a made-up story."

Isaac nodded and set back to the business of reading his book.

Heading back to the kitchen, I picked up my broom with the handle all bent from the boys' Star Wars misadventures.  I swept the floor I've swept a thousand times and thought to myself, "If only..." 

If only "Harold and the Purple Crayon" were real. 

What would I draw on my blank white canvas, bringing to life with a quick swipe of my purple crayon? 

The broom stood still in my hands.  Because I realized, I would draw my life exactly as it is. 

I would draw brilliantly happy pictures of my husband, children and home.  Pictures of my church family madly in love with God.  Pictures of the body of Christ working together, serving together, worshiping together. 

I don't think I would put my crayon down at that point, though.  No.  A purple crayon that can draw out your dreams into reality?  That's too amazing an opportunity to be missed.

No, I would keep on scrawling.  I would draw a world with everyone smiling and understanding the great love their Creator, God has for them.  I would keep drawing a place where people understood the saving grace of Jesus Christ.

And then, once all of those people were smiling and receiving that love from God, I would draw them sharing with each other in a reflection of His love for us.  Streams of purple would flow into rushing rivers of flowing clean water.  Scribbles would turn into food that everyone would share until all bellies were filled.  A house and a mommy and daddy for every child.

That's what I would do with my crayon. 

But you see, don't we each hold a purple crayon?  Isn't that what the very Creator, God Himself, breathed into our beings when He formed us and made us?  He puts into the hand of each of us a purple crayon.  And with our lives, we draw. 

What are you drawing with your crayon?

Enjoy Today,

P.S.  You are welcome here!  Thank you for stopping by for a visit.  Feel free to join the conversation by leaving a comment and sharing your thoughts.