Tuesday, November 21, 2017





Not my strong suit.

Look at my weight loss journey.  Years upon years of tried/failed attempts, with pounds added onto pounds onto pounds.

Look at my career journey.  Years upon years of hesitation to move into management, supervision, administration.

Look at my writing journey.  So personal. Gut-wrenching. Long-suffering.

Yet I have been willing to put it all out there.

Because what good is the struggle if there’s no lesson in it?  There’s so much joy to be shared. Not to mention pain, heartache, pathos…

Am I transparent?  Are any of us?

I’m trying to get there.

I put my weight loss journey out there, warts and all. Finally a trip to Mexico to have my guts carved out of me seems to have provided the solution.  I followed-up and followed-through. Cancer scares have a way of making you act…do.

I put my career journey out there, highs and lows together. Starting over, day after day, starting again, trying to make sense out of retirement and retooling or rethinking and rebooting.

And I’ve put my writing life out there. Turns out I’m another one who has a steel will.  

But what’s it all for?

Is the benefit all about me, me, me, or is there something greater at work in all of this angst, anxiety, and effort?

The Lord put something on my heart a couple of weeks ago. I was reading and meditating on the Psalms…37 to be exact:

From David we hear a plea…trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.  Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.  Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this:  he will make your righteous reward shine like the dawn, your vindication like the noonday sun… 
Such precious promises.  David gives us something powerful to cling to, hold on to, look forward to…with thanksgiving.
The psalm is all about God’s provision. He provides all for all.  We can dwell in this land and enjoy this safe pasture in the time and space that he provides. We can want for this and desire that, knowing that he will give us the desires of our hearts, in his time.  We can trust that he’ll give us a reward that shines like the dawn, and it probably has nothing to do with what seems important to us on this earth…it’s in the noonday that we’ll finally see his full, perfect, divine will.
I am grateful this season…so grateful.  For the life he’s allowed me to live, the children he’s allowed me to raise, the grandchildren he’s allowed me to love, the friends he’s allowed me to cherish, the air and wind and water and trees…I am so grateful this season. May we all be tenacious in our thanksgiving…may we take nothing for granted and with persistence come before him with praise, praise, and more praise.

Saturday, August 12, 2017



Things trended down when my doctor uttered a couple of words I didn't like. Cancer cells.

And then, and then.

He offered hope in the form of surgery, recovery, and a challenge.

Hope is a funny thing.

And so is irony.

Years ago...I'm talking high school...I forgot to return a library book.

Okay, forgot is a strong word.  More like, refused.  Because I liked a quote and kept it.

Thanks, Em.

Turns out, this life is all about traveling from hope to hope. It's the thing with feathers, perching inside us, ready to sing, never stopping...it's the thing that gets us from cancer cells to taking in the joy of his smile, her chatter, his silly riddles, their slap happy laughter.   

I've spent the summer basically with my grandchildren.  After a quick trip to Mexico to get most of my stomach removed, I've been healing, and hoping, and reaching for a firm grasp on what the rest of my life might be like P.C.  Post cancer.

And it looks pretty good.  Actually, it looks way past good.  
I'm heading north, joy to joy.  Getting younger every day.  Not planning to stop at all.

Tuesday, January 3, 2017

A New Year--Full of Possibility

Where does courage come from?

I've submitted so many manuscripts to agents and publishers over the years, and have many  more rejection letters than acceptance contracts.

Don't call me ungrateful...

Steel Will is still in the marketplace, and that makes me happy.

Not Alone is still in the marketplace, and that makes me happy.

Many of my journal articles are still out there.

But the piece that I'm rooting for is the piece I'm working on right here, right now.

It's like a new baby.

I want to show it off to the world.

I want others to ooh and aah at its beauty and wonder.

I want it to change the way the reader thinks, feels, or views the world.

Wishes and dreams surround my current work.

Wishes and dreams.

Thank you, friends, for your support.

You've believed in me when I've had little faith of my own.

Do I have something to say?

When do you ever feel confident or competent in your ability to write?

It's one of the few vocations that takes and takes and takes.

Yet I can't set it aside.

I can't not write.

So I'll keep going.

But would you cross your fingers for me?

And maybe a few toes?

Shout out a wish to a shooting star?

Toss some salt over your shoulder?

Kiss a penny?

Thank you...you're what I'm grateful for...xox