Hiding Away

How does that old song go? “Summertime, and the living is easy…” Well, not this summer! Somehow, the calendar is suddenly full. Pete is working full time, and trying to sort out his medical bills and insurance payments from his heart “event” earlier this year. My schedule is packed as well. We desperately need time—with one another, and with God together.

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Feeding Friends

We’re having guests for dinner tonight. A group of friends are coming, and I’m looking forward to the evening. The only problem is that I really don’t know what to make.

  • I’m on the keto diet. That means no carbs—no fruit except berries, no carb-heavy veggies, no grains, and of course no sugars in any form. Instead, I am eating low-carb vegetables, some protein, and a lot of fat.*
  • On the other hand, Pete is on a “heart healthy” diet prescribed by his cardiologist, which eliminates saturated fats and emphasizes fruits, vegetables, and high fiber carbs.
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What a Shame!

Lately, I’ve noticed that there’s a whole lot of public shaming going on. It doesn’t even need to be for a egregious  sin.

For instance, I was reading a Facebook post where someone bragged that they hung all their laundry on a clothesline, and couldn’t understand why any sane person would use a clothes dryer. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with hanging your clothes out to dry. But it was the attitude, one of “do what I do or you are a terrible person” that bothered me. The implication was that she was superior to us lesser mortals who use clothes dryers, and we should change to imitate her.

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I’ll Call You Friend

r leslie&linda having fun

“Please give three references.”  I was helping someone I’d recently met to fill out a job application. She’d already listed her contact information, work experiences, and skills. Now she just had to list three people who knew her well, and she could turn in the form.

I figured that she didn’t need my assistance with this part, so I moved on to helping another person. But later, when I reviewed the woman’s application, I realized that, for her, this had been the most challenging question of all. Yes, she had listed three people, but they were people I knew well—and I knew they didn’t know her at all.

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Hanging Out with God

I’ve been highly distracted for the past two weeks. Our daughters and granddaughters have been visiting, and I’ve been playing games, taking photos, cooking meals, and hugging—lots of hugging. What I haven’t been doing is writing blog posts. In fact, I totally missed last Friday, in spite of my best intentions. Instead of writing, taking time away from family that we don’t get to see nearly as often as we’d like, I thought I would cheat a bit.

The following is one of the very first posts I ever wrote for this blog. Yes, it’s listed in the archives, but if you’re like me, you rarely—if ever—hunt back through the old posts for something to read. I think my point is just as important today as it was when I wrote it almost ten years ago. I hope you agree.


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Conversations

GothicValley-GunnisonNF-CO_LAH_5549May is one of our busiest months. Everything seems to happen at once. I love to go birding, and here in Colorado, May is the peak of spring migration. It’s also the month when my garden wakes up. I can’t wait to get my fingers back into the soil, sowing seeds outdoors, setting out started seedlings, and pulling the weeds that have been sleeping all winter. At the same time, work continues, bills must be paid, clothes still get dirty, and we still get hungry.

With our schedules full, Pete and I had been communicating in sound bites. “Heading to the store, need anything?” “Can you stop at the bank for me?” “Don’t forget, tonight is our small group meeting.” We hadn’t had a real conversation in weeks. We really needed some quality time. Happily, we’d scheduled just that—back in January.

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Glad to Meet You!

“Glad to meet you!” I shook hands with the couple behind me at church, mumbling over and over the names they had just told me—Josh and Laurie, Josh and Laurie. I tried to think of some way to cement their names into my brain, but I knew with certainty that they would be gone from my memory by the time next Sunday rolled around. No matter how hard I try, or which little tricks I employ, I’m simply horrid at remembering peoples’ names.

If only they were flowers—or birds! Continue reading