I’m deeply distressed that the direction we are moving sends a message to the world that we are closing our borders to keep out those are not us. It is contrary to the heart of a loving God who welcomes everyone.
Before we moved into our house last year, we constructed a long list of things we needed to purge and cable television was one of…
Our middle child, Erin, started kindergarten at a large public school in a suburb of Tulsa. On her first day at Jenks East Elementary, I…
Continue reading → Do the Right Thing: Some Thoughts on the Walkout
My proclamation a few weeks before Lent began - that I was giving up grumbling for the six weeks - was probably a relief…
This blog post is about Nambia. Yes, I’m going there. Not literally, because there is no country of Nambia. In a speech to African leaders…
Shims. These are little pieces of wood that you purchase when the floors in your old house slant in three different rooms. I know this…
This photo makes it clear (or it should) that we have not moved to the Rosedale house yet. It's way past time for an update,…
On Friday, I’m leaving town. It’s not the best time for me to be gone because we run a retail shop and it’s almost Christmas.…
Things we haven't done before: 1) haul a toilet around in the back of our truck for three days, 2) set off flea bombs…
The kitchen demolition at Rosedale started two weeks ago but I wasn't there to watch since the kitchen really isn't my territory anymore.…
When I was five, we took our annual Colorado vacation in the hot month of July, and my mother left my packed suitcase with all…
We bought a house last Friday. Literally. We signed our names on eight pages of paperwork, confirmed the money wire, hugged the realtor, and then…
Here is a thought: maybe we are all artists, and because we were created by an artist who has placed creativity DNA is us, we are unfulfilled if we do not continue the act of creation and then offer it out into the world.
For months, I was adamant that we would not sell Dad's house. I couldn't imagine letting it go. It held all my parents' stuff, and hanging on…
Absolutely hate goodbyes. Dogs are dogs, I know. They aren't people and so there isn't really a need to write a long, sad, introspective blog…
I remember the sound of typewriter keys on Saturday mornings. Dad would finish his Sunday school lesson by typing his notes on the old Royal, circa 1940-something.
Two days before Christmas, I did this to my car. It was completely my fault, and adding insult to injury (actually, my injury was only a…
I have a Black Friday shopping story for you. Many years ago Kyle and I got up at 5 a.m. to hunt Furbies, got sick of the whole circus by 7…
It's been three days since we've been home from Ghana and this time, post-trip, I've done something new and different. I've let down. After previous…
