In Which I Muse on The Wedding Night

I live in a house full of women (almost), so it’s only natural that I’ve seen an episode or two of “The Bachelor” in my day.

Last Sunday, Bachelor Sean married “the love of his life,” Catherine, in a made-for-TV affair, complete with lots of flowers and bridesmaids (12 of them!) and famous guests. The wedding was sweet but simple (why, oh why, do people insist on writing their own vows?)—heartfelt and, did I mention sweet?

In the week prior to the wedding, Sean and Catherine did all the rounds of the television talk shows, most likely to fulfill their contract with ABC. I saw a few of these interviews and noticed that the one thing that everyone wanted to ask the couple about was their wedding night. Because Sean and Catherine did something so completely strange, so totally out of the ordinary, that the interviewers were baffled: they decided not to sleep together until the wedding night.

And, boy, were people curious about this.

To their credit, Sean and Catherine answered every question patiently and with great kindness and respect. They didn’t want to come across as being judgmental of others—they merely said that this was the right decision for them. (Whether ABC cut out all of the talk of their faith as a basis for this decision, I don’t know, but I sure didn’t hear much about that in their interviews.)

Anyway, Sunday night came, and ABC took the first hour of their wedding special to play up the fact that Sean and Catherine hadn’t slept together yet. They showed Sean awkwardly shopping for lingerie for his soon-to-be wife. They showed Catherine embarrassingly posing for Sean’s-eyes-only photos. And they showed the couple checking out their “first night” suite in the hotel, which Catherine coined the “consummation station.”

Yeah.

The funny thing was, Sean and Catherine were almost giddy as they talked about their first night together as husband and wife. They were as giggly as teenagers as they confessed that it was hard to wait, but that they knew it was right and would be worth it for them.

And I loved it.

I loved that they were giddy. I loved that they couldn’t wait to finally be husband and wife in the ultimate sense. I loved that they joked about getting out of the reception and heading to their room as fast as they could.

Because you know what? That’s how it should be.

Newlyweds should be thrilled about what’s next. Curious. And, yes, maybe even a little nervous. Because what’s next is great and fun and exciting.

And that’s what we’ve lost as a culture that encourages young people to jump into bed on the second date and cast aside mates as cavalierly as one would cast aside a yoga instructor who’s put on a few pounds.

We’ve lost the wonder of the wedding night.

I have three daughters, and you know what I hope? I hope my daughters giggle like teenagers as they anticipate their wedding nights, too. I hope they are filled with joy and delight as they dream of what that moment will hold for them.

And I hope they will look forward to it as much as Sean and Catherine did.

Thanks, ABC, for bringing us back to the wedding night and for reminding us that it can—and should!—be special.

Photos: 1|2

Top 5 Lines from Downton Abbey, S4;E4

This week, for some reason, didn't do much for me, so I'm going to keep this one short.

Even though Anna and Bates seem to have patched things up for now, I'm still nervous about their story line. I desperately want them to find happiness, but I don't have a lot of hope at this point.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I adore Daisy. Even though she didn't make any of my top 5 lines this week, I just love her sweet smile and her adorable way about her. She knows she blew it with Alfred, but she just keeps being her own sweet self.

Edith. Oh, Edith. How do you always manage to choose the wrong sort of man? I mean, what did you really know about Michael Gregson before you jumped into bed with him and now he's gone missing and you might be carrying his baby and he's in Germany of all places between the wars. Is he a Nazi? Did you check out his political leanings, Edith? And what about that crazy wife of his? Is she for real? Did you even check? In my mind, there's just too many unanswered questions about Michael Gregson, which means he's probably perfect for stupid, naive Edith.

Alright, let's get going.

1. My first pick is probably an obscure line that most of you probably overlooked, but I just liked it. Alfred was getting ready to leave for London, and he stops in the kitchen to say goodbye.

Alfred: Is there anything I ought to know about London?
Mrs. Patmore: There's quite a lot you ought to know about London, dear.

I think I liked that line because I'll be seeing London in a few months (planning a trip for June, and I can't wait!), and also because everyone should know something about London--it's such a great city.

2. As opposed to last week when we heard nary a peep out of Violet, this week she was back to her usual self, dispensing zingers to anyone within listening range. This exchange took place at the dinner table as Robert was trying to get his head around what should be done with his tenant farmer.

Robert: If we don't respect the past, we'll find it harder to build our future.
Violet: Where did you read that?
Robert: I didn't. I made it up. I thought it was rather good.
Violet: It's too good. One thing we don't want is a poet in the family.

Cue Tom, because I thought one thing they didn't want was a chauffeur in the family. You can bet that next week a poet will show up to court Mary.

3. And weren't there some great quips between Violet and Isobel? I'd say the two were becoming rather chummy, despite their many differences.

I loved the scene when the two were walking through the garden together after just talking to the new boy Violet had hired. Violet doesn't seem to care much about talking to the gardener, but Isobel is more than eager to make him feel welcome.

Isobel: You make me sound very fervent.
Violet: Wars have been waged with less fervor.

And a few lines later . . .

Isobel: Say what you like, but I know you care about these things as much as I do.
Violet (laughing): Nobody cares about anything as much as you do.

4. Early in the episode, the staff is discussing Baxter's new sewing machine, but Mrs. Patmore looks skeptical. Thomas explains, "Mrs. Patmore isn't what you would call a 'futurist.'"

This serves to provide a little background for a later scene between Cora and Mrs. Patmore when Cora explains that she would like to buy a refrigerator for the kitchen. Mrs. Patmore will have none of it.

Mrs. P: I just don’t see why it’s better than an ice box.

Cora: Well, a refrigerator is more efficient. It keeps food fresh longer; we won’t need ice to be delivered . . .

Mrs. P: But the papers will still be delivered, and the groceries, and all sorts. Or are we to stop that, too?

Cora: Mrs. Patmore, is there any aspect of the present day that you can accept without resistance?

Mrs. P (leaning in to whisper): Well, My Lady, I wouldn’t mind getting rid of my corset.

Oh, that just made me chuckle! The woman can deliver a line so very well.

5. OK, my favorite line of the night will probably come as no surprise to anyone, because it was probably your favorite line, too. I think this might go down as one of my all-time favorite Violet Dowager Countess lines of all time. She's talking to Isobel (again):

"It's a wonder your halo doesn't get heavy. It must be like wearing a tiara round the clock."

And with that, I think I'll go polish my own halo--it's been getting a little tarnished lately.

So? What was your favorite line of the episode? And what do you think of Michael Gregson's disappearance? And anything else you'd like to dish about. Leave me a comment!

Magic in the Classroom

I don’t often write about my work (I’m a writing professor at the college nearby), but sometimes something so magical happens in class that I just have to share.

This morning was one of those moments.

I was introducing the idea of summary—what it is, how we use it in research, etc. I wanted to illustrate for the students that a summary isn’t always completely neutral—we choose the points that we think are important, which reflects our bias.

So I asked the students, “What’s your favorite T.V. show?”

Quickly, two students shouted, “Friends!”

Wait. Two of you chose a ‘90s sitcom? First of all, I think that’s strange. Second of all, “Friends”? Really?

(Apparently, according to my class, “Friends” is having a resurgence. I guess there’s no accounting for taste.)

Anyway, I asked one of the students, hoping to show the class how he would summarize the show thus reflecting what he thought was important about it, “Summarize ‘Friends’ for me. What is the show about?”

Without hesitating, he said, “Sex!”

Top 5 Lines from Downton Abbey, S4:E3

Well now. Just when you think it couldn't get any more suspenseful or more sad or more . . . whatever you think it is . . . the show just keeps getting, well, more, doesn't it?

This week I felt like one of the themes was regret. Daisy regretted telling Alfred that James was in the boot room with Ivy. Mary regretted telling Lord Gillingham no.

And Tom. Poor Tom had the biggest regret of all: "I am already full of regrets. There is nothing but regret in me."

We'll get to that later.

First, let's talk about Anna. I didn't choose any of her lines this week because they were all too sad and filled with regret. I have no idea how this situation will play out, but I did notice a few things this week when I went back to watch the episode a second time. Did you notice in the first breakfast scene--it was the morning after . . . that . . . and all of the house party members' servants were gathered with the Downton servants for breakfast--that Anna was seated right next to "Mr. Gillingham," the man who had raped her the night before? I didn't catch that the first time, but whoo-boy! if Anna didn't stick around there very long. What a horrible place for her to be.

Did you also notice that, immediately upon their return from London, Carson told Anna that Lord Gillingham had arrived and she nearly jumped out of her skin? "Is his valet with him?" she asked immediately.

Oh, poor Anna. In every scene my heart broke for her. I just want to scoop her up, take her home with me, and just give her a place to feel safe. Hopefully she will come to her senses soon and tell her husband the truth. But what then????

Alright, I could discuss this forever, but I have class in a few minutes and lots to do today. Better get on with it.

1. My first favorite line came right at the beginning, in the servants' hall where everyone was gathered for breakfast. Anna, naturally, was jumpy. Mr. Bates was confused. And others were downright crabby. Thomas decided to add some levity to the situation.

Thomas: What's the matter with everyone this merry morn?

Carson: I always think there's something foreign about high spirits at breakfast.

Me too, Carson. At least until I've had a cup of coffee.

2. In the scene when everyone is leaving the house party, all gathered around the front door saying goodbye, Lord Gillingham and Mary have a brief exchange. (More regrets.) But in that little scene, "Mr. Gillingham" (I guess that's what they called someone's valet--"Mr" followed by whatever the Lord's name is), Downton's rapist, awkwardly approaches Lord G. and tells him everything is packed up.

Mary and Lord G. exchange glances as if to say, "Well, wasn't that highly inappropriate?"

Instead, Mary says something about how nice it is that Lord Gillingham is so well looked after, to which Lord Gillingham replies: "I know it seems rather ungrateful, but I can't pretend I really like him."

Hmmmmm. A bit of foreshadowing, perhaps?

3. You gotta love Mrs. Hughes. I think she's been the bedrock of the season so far. While Robert and Cora continue to live in LaLa Land, Mrs. Hughes has her feet firmly planted on terra firma. And, wow! Does she know a thing or two about living life! Was anyone else surprised by her dressing down of Edna this week? Or that she even knew what the book Married Love was all about?

[As an aside, I did a little research and actually found a copy online of the 1919 book, Married Love:, by Marie Stopes. In her preface she says, "I have some things to say about sex, which, so far as I am aware, have not yet been said, things which seem to be of profound importance to men and women who hope to make their marriages beautiful." She says lots of other things, too, some of which aren't quite so virtuous.]

Anyway, here's how the scene in Mrs. Hughes's office (sorta) went down.

Edna: How do you know I'm not pregnant, B-----?
Mrs. Hughes: You're not pregnant, and I'll tell you why, you sneaky witch. You had this filthy book hidden in your room that tells you everything you need to know about not getting pregnant!
Edna (shocked): You've been in my things!
Mrs. Hughes: Darn right!
Tom, looking sheepish: What if I said I'd marry her and she wasn't really pregnant?
Mrs. Hughes: Oh, don't worry about that. She'd find some other randy drunk man to get her pregnant.
Edna: So? I'm just going to go talk to that clueless lady upstairs. She'll believe me over you-who-have-worked-here-forever-and-have-saved-her-butt-more-than-once-without-her-even-knowing-it.
Mrs. Hughes: No you won't. And you know why you won't? Because if you ever want a reference, or a job, preferrably in your natural lifetime, you'll hold your tongue.

Meanwhile, Tom just stands there with his head moving back and forth like he's watching a tennis match.

And with that, Dame Edna was gone. Almost. Don't let the door hit you on the backside on the way out, Edna!

4. Next scene. Edna is rushing up the stairs with her book in her hand, and she brushes past Thomas. He gives her some snide remark, and she turns on him, saying the one thing everyone wishes they had the chance to say to Thomas.

Edna: Do you ever wonder why people dislike you so much? It’s because you are sly and oily and smug, and I’m really pleased I got the chance to tell you before I go.

Thomas: Well, if we’re playing the truth game, then you’re a manipulative little witch and if your schemes have come to nothing, I’m delighted.

Two of a kind, those two. 

5. You knew I'd save the best for last, didn't you? My absolutely favorite line of the episode, and one which I fully intend to bring into my own vernacular, was the delicious line from Mrs. Patmore: "Daisy, get a wiggle on!"

And with that, I must get my own wiggle on.

(Just in case you didn't get the context, getting one's "wiggle on" means "hurry up!")

So tell me, what was YOUR favorite line?

Top 5 Lines from DA, S4:E1
Top 5 Lines from DA, S4:E2

Top 5 Lines from Downton Abbey, S4:E2

Spoiler alert: If you haven't seen Episode 2 of Season 4 yet, don't read on until you do. You'll be sorry. 

***

Oh, Downton, you just about killed me this week. I cannot believe what happened to my beloved Anna, and when I think about it now, two days later, I'm still overcome with sadness. I know you're fictional and your characters aren't real, but seriously, the way things played out, the way the scene was filmed, and the seriousness of it all--it just felt so very real.

Besides that, when I talked to one of my girls about it, she said, "I suppose stuff like that happened all the time back then." 

I know she's probably right, but we don't like to see the seedy side of life in a place that feels so utterly idyllic, do we? I mean, juxtapose the scene with Anna to the scene with Mary riding peacefully through the grounds with Lord Gillingham and you get a sense of what I mean.

Which brings me to another topic I feel I must discuss. A friend of Facebook this week mentioned that she's getting frustrated with all of the sitting-around-waiting-for-the-next-meal that goes on Upstairs. "It's like nobody does anything!" she said. Meanwhile, Downstairs is hustling and bustling to make sure Upstairs maintains a sense of calm. Anybody ever wonder what's up with that? 

I have a theory. My theory is that this is done on purpose and that Julian Fellowes, brilliant man that he is, is slowly unfolding the truth about life in post-Edwardian England. That truth? That Downstairs really runs the show. And while everyone Upstairs appears to have it all together as they wait for their next meal, it's the Downstairs folks who really run the engine. 

One more thing. Is anyone else getting sick of Robert? I mean, honestly, how has Cora put up with him all these years? I've only known him for four seasons, and I'm ready to throw him off the horse. Or a wall. Or a very tall building.

Again, though, I think Julian Fellowes is so brilliant in his development (or anti-development) of Robert through the years. In Season 1, I was so enamored by Robert--I thought he was such an honorable man. Today, however, I just see a man who is weak and pitiful. He lies to his wife about his gambling debts. He wants to keep his daughter in mourning so he won't have to share the responsibility of running the estate. And, worst of all, he is completely out of touch with the rest of the world.

Which brings me to my first quote of the night.

1. Cora has just received the news that the world-famous opera singer, Nelly Melba (don't you just love that name?!), has been relegated to eating in her bedroom. Cora, rightfully so, is outraged and confronts Robert.

Cora (whispering so that the other guests won't hear): A world famous singer is in our house, a great artist honored by the King, but you’ve held it beneath your dignity to eat. with. her?

Robert, stammering: I don’t remem . . .

Cora: Am I the only member of this family who lives in the 20^th century? Now, you will have her next to you at dinner . . . and you will like it!

Robert: But what will I say to her? What does one say to a singer?

All I can say to that is OH GOOD GRIEF!!!

2. Earlier, we see that Mr. Molesley's troubles continue--so much so that he shows up in the kitchen with a delivery of groceries for Mrs. Patmore. He's embarrassed enough, but then Daisy steps right in it.

Daisy: Oh, you’re a delivery boy!

Mrs. Patmore: Now, now, Daisy. There’s no shame in hard work.

Preach it, Mrs. Patmore!

3. Meanwhile, Thomas continues to sit on his high horse, refusing to serve as footman for a night after Jimmy sprains his wrist and can't carry the trays upstairs.

Thomas: Mr. Carson, may I remind you that I am the under butler?

Carson: I don’t care if you’re the High Cockalorum, you’re a footman tonight.

Now, I'll admit that, for as hard as I laughed at that line (Carson's delivery was perfect!), I had to do a little research here to try to dig up the meaning behind Carson's words. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, "high cockalorum," when applied to a person, means "little or young cock, bantam; self-important little man."

Need I say more?

4. Poor Tom. He really is such a nice man, handling his grief quietly and trying his best to work hard and fit in. But this week we start to see just how difficult life at the Abbey is for Tom. At the house party, Tom calls the old Dutchess "Your Grace," which Violet quickly moves in to correct, telling him the terms that old royalty should be called and in which venue.

Truly, I'd be scratching my head, too.

Tom: There’s no logic in it.

Violet to Tom: If I were ever to search for logic, I should not look for it among the English upper class.

Don't you just love it when they make fun of themselves?

5. You've got to hand it to Violet, she really was so kind to Isobel tonight. (Makes you wonder what she has planned for future episodes.) She actually had her driver stop the car in town so that she could get out to talk Isobel into attending the dinner and concert that night. So unrefined, talking out in broad daylight like that!

Anyway, at the end of the evening, Robert walked both Violet and Isobel outside to bid them adieu. 

Robert (to Isobel): I’m so pleased you came.

Isobel: So am I. I was wrong to hesitate, but then Guilt has the power to make all of us do strange things.

Violet: Oh, not all of us. Guilt has never played a major part in my life.

Robert (under his breath): Amen to that.

Ah, the mother and child reunion! Gotta love both of those lines.

Well, there we go. I have to say that I'm so curious about next week. What will happen with Anna? Will she and Bates ever have an easy time of things? 

We have some predictions around here, but I'd love to hear yours.

What do you think will happen next?

Top 5 Lines from Downton Abbey, S4:E1

Alright now, for as much as I talk about wanting this place to be a place of substance, I can't help myself. I just have to talk about Downton Abbey.

Not to say that DA isn't substantive. Forgive me if that's what you may have inferred. Actually, I watch Downton Abbey because it is a little more thoughtful than most of what's on T.V. today. (And, again, this isn't to say that I don't watch my fair share of mindless television.)

(Boy, I'm digging myself in deep here, aren't I?)

Anyway, despite my earlier post claiming that I wanted to start blogging again by writing what I would want to read--or maybe because of that claim--I've decided that the Downton Abbey posts must stay. I get a lot of pleasure from writing them, and I suspect that some of you get some pleasure from reading them.

And now you're thinking, as am I, that it's very near the end of Tuesday and this post may be bordering on being outdated. That's O.K. I'm not giving any excuses because there just may have been a hockey game to attend on Sunday night and then I had to watch DA a couple of times to make sure I got this right.

I promise, not every post will have this many caveats attached to it.

So now, as I've done for the previous three seasons, I bring you my Top 5 Lines from Downton Abbey, Season 4, Episode 1.

Such sadness in the big house, isn't there? Matthew has been gone for six months and Mary is still looking like a deer in the headlights. Poor thing. We'll get to her.

Things are in an uproar right away because O'Brien has left. Who knew that a Lady's Maid leaving would cause such trauma both Upstairs and Downstairs? That O'Brien really had a way of causing a ruckus, and she's still managing to do so even by NOT being there.

1. And Thomas. Still up to his old tricks. My first favorite line came fairly early on in the show when Thomas was sitting around (he never really seems to do any real work, does he?) complaining to Mr. Bates about Nanny West who had asked him to do her a favor.

Bates: You mean she mistook you for a servant?

Alfred, confused as usual: But he is a servant.

Bates: Don’t tell him that, he’ll never get over the shock.

2. Ah, Violet. My Lady was in beautiful form this week as she handed out advice and one-liners like penny candy to the children. 

Violet, in an attempt to pull Isobel out of her grief, pays a visit to Crawley House, suggesting that Isobel snap out of it.

Violet: You say you have no purpose. But what about Little George? Surely you’re interested in him.

Isobel: Of course, but I’m not going to drive Mary mad by interfering.

Violet: It’s the job of grandmothers to interfere.

Tucking that one away for the future.

3. Poor Mr. Molesley. I felt so sorry for him this week, and I wonder what will be in store for him as he's sunk so low. 

But I loved the sweet scene between Mr. Molesley and his father, Mr. Molesley. It seems there was a lot of shoring up to do this week because between Violet and Mr. Molesley the Elder, there was a lot of good advice dispensed.

Here's the line I loved: In your game, if you want the best, you have to be the best and work at it.

Good parental advice from the elder Mr. M.

4. And what about the sweet scene between Violet and Mary in Mary's bedroom? Words that rarely have been spoken at that house seemed to make all the difference.

Mary: I suppose you think I behaved very badly down there.

Violet: My dear, I’m not very interested in whether you behaved badly or well.

Mary: No?

Violet: I’m not your governess. I’m your grandmother.

Mary: And the difference is?

Violet: The difference is . . . I love you.

I don't think I've ever heard a Grantham speak those words--they just weren't said back then--but as soon as Mary heard her grandmother say them, she seemed to perk up, confessing to Violet that she didn't think she'd make a very good mother.

And Violet spoke such life-giving words to her granddaughter (and to all of us who feel we've failed at motherhood a time or two): My dear, there is more than one type of good mother.

Thank you, Dowager. Thank you.

5. Finally, I had to choose the scene between Mrs. Hughes and Carson toward the end of the episode. The two were in Carson's office discussing his broken relationship with Mr. Griggs, and Mrs. Hughes offered this gem of wisdom: It’s an open wound. I don’t know why, but I do know this—you’d do better to stitch it up and let it heal.

Oh, there were so many more good lines and wonderful scenes, but I had to keep myself to five and these are my favorites. 

OK, if I were to add one more, it would be the tender scene between Carson and Mary in Carson's office when she finally broke down and cried, and Carson comforted her: You cry, my Lady. You have a good cry. That’s what’s needed now. And when you are ready, you can get to work. Because you are strong enough. You are strong enough for the task.

Ahhhhh. 

Downton Abbey, I'm so glad you're back. These cold winter nights are made just a bit warmer with you around.

How about you? Did you watch? What were your favorite lines?

Focus

We had a plan . . . sort of.

Armed with a list of places we had wanted to try, the girls and I set out for the city. I had been looking forward to this day since before our break even began, and I didn’t want meltdowns or hunger or a lack of a plan to spoil our time together.

And then there was the weather. Eleven inches of snow had fallen in the two days prior to our trip and the roads were not quite clear yet. No matter. I had my front-wheel drive mini van and a lot of determination. We’d make it.

We started out at Mario Batali’s newest Chicago home, Eataly. Very cool. Very hip.

Very overwhelming.

We weren’t quite sure how to conquer this monster, so we wandered for a while, admiring the exquisite chocolates, cheeses, and pastas. Soon, however, hunger crept in, an enemy that had ruined many a Chicago outing for our family. I would not let it ruin this day.

Since the wait for a table was an hour long, we decided to grab some of their famous focaccia bread as a quick snack. We found a place to stand while we ate and discussed our next move.

We were on a mission to visit some of Chicago’s best eateries.

“Donuts. We need to try some donuts.”

“Coffee. Definitely need coffee.”

“All I know is that we need to get out of here.”

So we finished our bread (which was delicious), made a few purchases, and headed out.

The tactical error was all mine; I’ll accept full responsibility for it. While we were regrouping at Eataly’s front door, I asked, “So what’s next? Do you guys want to shop for a while since we’re down here? Should we go to our next destination? (What IS our next destination?) What do you want to do?”

I should have known better than to throw out options like shopping when we were clearly on a food mission. But there it was.

The options were just too many.

I could tell that frustrations were starting to mount. Our plan had been compromised, and nobody knew what should come next.

“I think we need to stay focused.”

The voice of reason that knocked us all back into consciousness.

“I mean, since we came down here to taste foods, let’s just focus on food.”

Everyone quickly agreed. Focus was what we needed; focus was what we would do.

We happily headed to the car, parking voucher in one hand, Google maps in the other.

For the rest of the day we focused. 

And we ate. And we laughed at the silliness of it all.

But in the end, we were so glad we did it.

These are the days that memories are made of.

Here’s what I learned: the City of Chicago is just too big to take in one bite. You have to focus your efforts and save room for more later.

The city (and the food) will always be there.

****

Here's a list of the places we visited:

Eataly

Glazed and Infused

Heritage General Store

Hoosier Mama Pie Co.

Where would you go for the best foods in YOUR city?

Quiet

Well, hello!

I hardly know where to start, it's been so long since I've been around here. I guess I took a blogging break.

I didn't mean to take a break. I really didn't.

All of a sudden the semester was upon me, and lesson plans and grading took over my life and here I was . . . not writing.

And every day that went by . . . not writing . . . just felt right for a while.

At one point I said to Kate, "I feel just terrible that I haven't written anything this fall." Her response was such grace to me--words I've held on to: "It's O.K., Mom. You're just in a period of quiet."

Yes, I think that was it. A time of quiet. When my heart and my soul just didn't have much to say.

I'm still not sure I have much to say even now, but I've missed writing so much. And I feel I should probably take the advice I give to my students: you have to exercise that writing muscle in order to write anything of substance.

So today I'm practicing and exercising and hoping beyond hope that something of substance will come out of this period of quiet.

I've tossed and turned this around in my mind, trying to figure out why I went quiet for a while, and I've come up with a couple of theories. Choose whichever one fits.

1. Coming off of the busiest summer of my life and jumping right into a busy fall semester of teaching was just a whole lot of crazy and not enough "thinking" space for this introvert.

2. Kate being gone this fall threw me off. (As in, it's easier to blame someone else than to accept responsibility myself. Way to go, Mom!)

3. I just didn't have much to say.

I pick either 1 or 3.

(Yes, Kate was gone, and it was weird to have her so far away, but it was O.K. We survived. We even got to see her a few times, so it wasn't that bad.)

So, let's talk about number 1 for a minute. I definitely think that, while my summer was indeed invigorating and that renovating an entire townhouse in eight weeks was somewhat satisfying, it was also exhausting. And, again, while traveling to Europe with my mom was such a special and extravagant experience, it was not restful--I came home as tired as when I left. In other words, I started my semester from a place of exhaustion, which any professor will tell you is not a good place to be.

And number 3. Honestly? I think that's more it than anything. What I really want for this space, this very small blog, is to be a place of substance. What I want is to write something that I would want to read, and, if I'm to be perfectly honest, I haven't always done that. To write with authenticity and vulnerability, all the while pushing myself and my reader closer to God, that's what I'd like to do here.

So it's a new year. Time to throw off the old, to forget about the failures of 2013 (there were many), and to move ahead.

Will you join me?

Letters to My Daughters: Ten Things

Earlier this week I was searching for something in some of my old posts, and I happened to come across a post I wrote in November of 2009 titled "Ten Things." I read it through and realized that it would be perfect as a "Letters to My Daughters" post (something I've been trying to resurrect recently due to some very kind comments from some of you). I've edited the original just a bit to fit our circumstances now, but most of it remains the same.

*****

Dear Daughters,

A long time ago, either before you were born or when Kate was just a baby, I attended a writer’s conference. The keynote speaker was a relatively unknown Christian writer who had an idea that he floated to us during one of his talks. Something about the rapture, the antichrist, and the end times.

You might have heard of him? Jerry Jenkins?

Before Jerry Jenkins ever wrote the Left Behind series, he had already written several books, including the book that I purchased called 12 Things I Want My Kids to Remember Forever. I actually stood in line to have him autograph my book (the only time I've ever done that!) because, as I told him, I bought that book (and not one of his 25 other books on the table) for the title of one chapter: “Women Work Harder than Men.”

Think about that for just a second.

I have loved that little book over the years. It’s the book I wish I could write for you. It's kind of what spurred me to write this "Letters to My Daughters" series. 

You are, all three, in the process of leaving home. In just a few years our house will be empty, our walls will echo with memories, and my head will suddenly remember all the things I wish I had told you but forgot.

So, a list. Just so I don't forget to tell you. 

1. I have to say this first because it really is the most important thing: Know Jesus. Really know Him. Love Him with all your heart. Take Him with you wherever you go.

When you were little I always made you hold my hand when we crossed the street. When you got a little older you started to get embarrassed about that, and you shrugged me off. Very soon I won’t be there to hold your hand all the time. Hold on to His. And not just when you’re crossing the street; hold on all the time.

2. Marry a man who loves Jesus more than he loves you. Because in doing that, he will love you best. After that, make sure your husband makes you laugh every day. Because, believe me, laughter can get you through some tough days.

3. Be kind to the outsider. We all know how it feels to be the person on the outside looking in, so try to include others. Bring people in. Be warm. Be welcoming. Be hospitable.

4. It’s not about you. Ever. I know this phrase has turned into a bit of a cliché, but it is so true. This life, this world, is so much bigger than you. Don't be afraid of it; just dig in and see what you can do to help.

5. Debt is NOT your friend. It will suffocate you like a blanket and, once under that blanket, it’s really, really hard to get out from under it. Debt removes options from your life, and I want you to have options. Stay far, far away from the allure of debt, and the best way to do that is to live below your means.

6. Some stuff that people say matters really doesn’t matter at all. But then, there is some stuff that some people don’t care about that matters a lot. Life is often about having the right perspective.

7. Learn how to make a couple of dishes really well. Make them your signature dishes. That way, when you have company over you’ll have a recipe or two that you can make really well and you won’t have any disasters like the double-charred, hard-as-a-rock ribs I made for friends one time when your dad and I were first married.

8. Find a church and commit to it. This is your body, so do everything within your power to help make your body healthy and strong. Serve. Confront. Help. Unless there is heresy being preached, try to stick with it. You will be blessed so much if you do this.

9. Don’t complain. Now, I realize that I spend my fair share of time complaining about the weather, but I know I shouldn’t. There’s nothing I can do about the weather. But this is bigger than the weather. Nobody likes to be around a person who complains all the time. Instead of complaining, try to make the world a better place.

10. Finally, always remember that you are so special. Each one of you is so very gifted, and by that I don’t mean just intellectually. Each one of you is so beautiful, inside and out. You love well. You give a lot. You are good friends. You have taught me so much. Never, ever forget how special you are because there will be some days when you won't feel special. You'll think that you have nothing to offer this world or the people in it. You'll wonder what you can do to make a difference. Believe me, just because you're here the world is a better place.

I know I said I’d give you ten things I want you to remember, but there’s one more thing. . . .

Never forget that I have loved you with more love than my heart can hold. It overflows. It spills over into everything I have done. And there’s more there. Always more. You are the work of my life, and I’m so very proud of what I’ve accomplished.

Love,

Mom

So how about you, dear readers? What would you add to this list?

Just One

You guys know I'm all about education, right?

Education has been my work for a long time.

And girls?

Three precious ones of my own and countless others who have impressed and inspired me.

Yep, education and girls--I kind of have a thing for them both.

Bring the two together in one inspiring story and I'll be a puddle of tears.

And that's just what I am this week over this one story.

Kristen is one mom. One blogger. Who took one trip and met one woman. She heard one Voice calling her to one task. And she obeyed.

Just one. With open hands and an open heart.

A mom who said yes.

Mercy House is the task that God has called Kristen to, and it's a task that is just too big for one person. So over the next few weeks, Kristen is asking for a community of moms to come alongside her in her task.

Mercy House is one ministry that is doing a whole lot of good in Kenya. Women are being healed, lives are being restored, and babies are being saved. All because Kristen said yes to God.

This week, Mercy House is trying to raise enough money to provide a classroom for the young women who are being rescued. These are women who were previously living in one of the largest slums in the world, raped or being sold as sex slaves, who find themselves pregnant and without hope. Mercy House provides shelter, nourishment, community, and education for these desperate women.

Their babies are being saved.

Please, won't you learn more by clicking right here and watching the incredible video about Mercy House? And then, won't you go one step further by giving a gift to this ministry which will provide an education that will help free these women to do amazing things with their lives?

I get it--I see it every day--the difference that an education can make for a young woman. And I want to help pass that gift along to others.

Won't you join me?

Of Dick Van Dyke and Dreaming

Last night, after coming home from a soccer game, B and I sat down together on the couch and flipped on the T.V.

News flash: not much is on on a Friday night.

We ended up watching an old episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show. 

(Seriously. There’s nothing on on Friday nights!) 

B and I laughed about how we felt we knew every square inch of Rob and Laura Petry’s house, including their bedroom with twin beds (!), and I noted how prim and put-together Laura looked in her starched blouse and well-sprayed hairdo. A far cry from how I look most days in my yoga pants and sweatshirt.

In this episode, Rob, who worked as a screenwriter for a T.V. show, confessed to Laura that he felt like a failure because he had started writing a novel and had never finished it. He said that he never felt like a real writer because he had never written a book.

Apparently, writing a book is what makes you a real writer.

Laura spent the rest of the episode encouraging Rob to finish his book, even going so far as to arrange for him to spend a few days in a friend’s cabin, alone, so he could concentrate and write.

But poor Rob was suffering from writer’s block. He got busy sharpening pencils, stacking paper, and getting out his typewriter in order for the scene to be just perfect so that he could finally write. But as soon as everything was set, he just sat there, looking around, eventually getting distracted by a paddleball game. Rob spent three days just pounding that ball against the paddle, trying to beat his high score.

In the end, Laura and Rob both had a moment of clarity: they realized that Rob just wasn’t ready to write his book. One day he might be ready, but this wasn’t it.

Rob summed it up this way: “I know one thing, when I’m ready to be a novelist I won’t need a cabin to write it. I’ll be able to write it on the subway during rush hour.”

Here’s what I want to know. Did Rob give up?

We read so much these days about dreaming big dreams for our lives, which, in my mind, means do bigger things than you’re doing right now.

But what if what we’re doing right now is exactly what God wants us to be doing?

For the past two weeks I haven’t written a word. I’ve been busy teaching, grading papers, talking to students and friends, and generally living my life.

Oh, I think about writing. I think about my blog and what I’d like to see happen here, but it just isn’t happening for me right now. Call it writer’s block. Call it a busy life. Call it different priorities.

Whatever you call it, writing isn’t happening for me right now, and, in a way, that’s frustrating to me.

I dream.

Oh yes, I dream a lot.

And yet, here I am in the everyday, trying to find the adventure right here.

And I wonder: am I doing this right as I live in the tension of the everyday and the some day? More importantly, I wonder: what if my dreams for myself aren’t God’s dreams for me? What if He has something else that is not necessarily bigger, but definitely better, than I can see?

I’d like to explore these questions a little further. Will you explore with me?

Over the next couple of weeks, just because I’m kind of like Rob Petry and can’t seem to find my writing mojo, I’d like to give myself a little task. To write about dreams and see where this gets me.

Now tell me, what do you dream about? What do you think about dreaming big dreams for your life? Where have your dreams led you? How would you respond to the questions I’ve posted above?

The Great Townhouse Project of 2013 - Before and After

"How was your summer?"

The question everybody asks when school starts again. Usually I can just say, "Great! Really fun!" but this year I had to hesitate.

Great? Sort of.

Fun? Um . . .

Yes, I got to take a truly amazing trip with my mom and sisters--that was the highlight, for sure.

But to be perfectly honest, this past summer was a hard one for me. It was full of hard work--physically hard work--which can be gratifying, but also exhausting. 

It was also a lonely summer for me. Sure, I had helpers occasionally, but a lot of the time I worked alone. Just me and Pandora.

Toward the end, I wondered if the project would ever get finished. I wondered if we'd run out of money. I wondered if the guys at Home Depot knew my name yet. And I wondered what every other person I knew was doing, because for sure they were having more fun than me.

Yes, I got whiney. Hey, I was tired! The project definitely took its toll on me, and I was happy to be finished with it.

I think my favorite day was the day we took the final set of pictures (some of which I'm showing you here). My word, the house looked beautiful! (Of course, it's full of college girls now, so who knows what it looks like, but I'm sure it's in good hands.)

So, because so many of you have asked, here are some final pictures of the Great Townhouse Project of 2013. 

Let's start in the basement. It's hard to see how nasty it was before because it's basically one big, open room, but here's the before photo. 

See those tiny wooden slats on the ceiling? I painted each and every one of those suckers. That's right.

And here's the finished product (a few furniture pieces were added after we took this photo): 

I know this doesn't thrill you much, but I have to include some pictures of the utility room. Early in the summer, B took on the utility room as his own personal project. On the first day, he moved the washer and dryer to clean behind them and found not one . . . not two . . . but THREE thongs . . . in which, it seems, some mice had made a very nice, if not thin, nest. 

Thankfully the mice were nowhere to be seen this summer, once we removed their *ahem* bed.

Here was the utility room before (note the cans of paint and paint thinner tucked back behind the furnace. That's right! We nearly had a heart attack.):

And the utility room after (notice the brand new water heater. My pride and joy.):

OK, moving upstairs. Remember the half bath on the main floor? Seriously disturbing sponge painting in a funky green and gold. Still gives me shivers to think of that.

And the filth! Ugh. All over the house. I just couldn't capture it with my camera (these are the times when an infrared camera would have been helpful).

Anyway, here's the downstairs bathroom now:

Sadly, this picture doesn't capture the gleaming grout on the floor, but let's just say that hours on my hands and knees with a bottle of Soft Scrub (twice!) really did the trick. 

Moving on to one of my biggest projects of the summer, the kitchen. Remember the ugly green walls (what was WITH the previous owners and ugly green?)? The hideous checkered/appled wallpaper border?

Also before (note, again, the filthy grout):

When the water heater blew, we decided that replacing the kitchen floor would have to wait for another year or so. So, once again, I grabbed the Soft Scrub and went to town on the grout. (Thinking over that now, I probably should have sealed the grout when I was finished. Next summer.)

Here's the kitchen now:

Don't you love the indoor/outdoor rug that I bought from a friend for $20? It covers a multitude of sins cracks.

Here's another angle, looking back the other way:

I know you can't tell from this picture, but, trust me, that grout is CLEAN.

Moving into the living room. Here's where the biggest transformation took place, I think.

Before (sorry it's a blurry picture, but I wanted you to see the old dining room chandelier and the opening into the kitchen:

And one more from before (take a good look at the floor):

And here's the living room now:

I absolutely LOVE the new floor we had installed. It took a big chunk of our budget, but it was so worth it. (And I have to stop and say that Empire--yes, that Empire--was fantastic to work with. Who knew?!)

Moving upstairs. On the first day, Julia and I were immediately grossed out by this:

We never knew what that was dripping all over the wall, but this was the state of the stairway going upstairs. 

Here is the stairway (headed upstairs) today (sorry, the sun was shining very brightly that morning):

No drips. No splatters. No hair or lint covering the carpet. Just a nice, clean stairway. Ahhhhh.

The bedroom at the top of the stairs used to be bright yellow.

Now it's a soothing color of grayish/periwinkle (B thinks it's purple. No.).

Be prepared because a seriously nasty picture is coming your way. Remember the hall bathroom? The one with the shower and the hideously filthy floor? 

  

(I warned you!)

Soooo much better now. I might even use it.

Quickly now, let's head to the master bedroom (I only call it that because the bathroom is attached, or en suite, as they call it in Europe.). This is the room that was totally tan--even the ceiling. It was so dark in there, I don't know how anybody could stand it.

Here it is now:

And from another angle:

Here's the totally tan bathroom before:

And after:

I know, I know, it's not that much of a change, but I think the lighter color really makes everything look bigger, don't you?

So there you go. My summer project is complete, and I hope I never have to do that much work on a house in eight weeks again. 

Until next time. . . .

I'd love your thoughts and reactions! Do share them in the comments, please!

The Great Townhouse Project - Week 1
The Great Townhouse Project - Week 2
The Great Townhouse Project - Week 3
The Great Townhouse Project - Week 4
The Great Townhouse Project - Week 5
The Great Townhouse Project - Weeks 6 & 7

Linking up with Richella's Grace at Home party. 

A Mama Story

Tell the story, they say. Just tell the story.

About how you are a spoiled mama because your girls go to college eight blocks from home and how you know you’re spoiled and you don’t take it for granted. Tell about how you know that they will leave at some point and that’s OK.

Even though you may not like it, it’s still OK.

Tell the story about how Kate needed to go for a while. How we all agreed that she needed to do this, as hard as it might be.

Tell the story about how she decided in the last week, at the very last minute that she didn’t really want to go but that what she really wanted to do was to stay here with her friends for her senior year. And how she sat you down on the Monday before she was supposed to leave on Thursday and how she looked you in the eye and said, “I don’t want to go.”

Tell the story about how that crushed your soul. How everything in you wanted to keep her here—who needs to fly away anyway?—but how everything in you knew that the best thing for her would be to get out of her hometown for a little while. So you sat with her, listened, and then said, “You do not have a compelling reason to stay home. You don’t have a dad who is sick. Your family is not in crisis. You just don’t have a good reason.”

And then, how you said, “But you do have one compelling reason to go.”

“What’s that?” she said through arms tightly crossed over her chest and a slight sneer on her face.

“Because you signed up. You told them you were coming. You said you’d be there; people are counting on you. And God has things to teach you there.”

You signed up.

Tell the story about how you went to visit your girl last weekend and how much fun it was to be with her, how easy, and how much you wanted to pack her in your suitcase and take her right back home with you, but you didn’t. Instead you bravely hugged her and tried not to cry and said, “I’ll see you at Thanksgiving.”

While inside you were thinking, “Thanksgiving is so stinking far away.”

You signed up, mama.

You signed up for a lifetime of heart-tugs and breath-catches. You signed up for a lifelong battle with your own will that wants to protect your girl and shower her with stuff and make her feel good about herself when you know in your heart that the best thing for her is to let her go and not provide every blessed thing she might want and to sometimes tell the truth about who she is.

Tell the story about how you got on that homeward bound plane with a sinking, sad feeling inside and tears ready to spill. How you didn’t want to let go of her or leave her there or wait three long months before you stroked her beautiful, long, brown hair again.

Tell the story about how not a minute goes by that you're not thinking about your girls—all three—and praying that they are OK.

The story of motherhood is fraught with longing and tears and wonder. It’s a story that’s hard to tell, with emotions so deep they cannot be spoken. It’s a journey that wears you out with frustration and regret and love.

But it’s also fraught with high-fives from little victories and loud laughter and knowing that you both have done the right thing.

Not the easy thing, for the easy thing would keep her right here, tucked safely beneath your wing.

You didn't sign up for the easy thing. You signed up for the right thing the moment you became a mother.

The right thing. Because right is always better in the end.

Good Reads

Happy long weekend!

Here are a few links that I've enjoyed this week (or last). Maybe they will fill a few quiet moments as you enjoy some time off.

5 Ways We're Making Parenting Harder :: wellcommons.com. Amen and amen! Would everyone just settle down already?

Saying Goodbye to My Child, the Youngster :: by Michael Gerson. For those of you sending kids off to college or those of you who might someday send you kid off to college. Get the kleenex handy!

And then, speaking of parenting, there's Miley. Obviously you don't have to click on these links, but just in case you're interested in what I think are some good perspectives on the situation. . . .

Dear daughter, let Miley Cyrus be a lesson to you :: Roadkill Goldfish. "Dear Daughter, I am going to fight or die trying to keep you from being like Miley Cyrus."

And then this for the sons:

Dear son, don't let Robin Thicke be a lesson to you :: The Matt Walsh blog. Such a great perspective.

That's it for this week. Enjoy your weekend!

Kicking the Bucket List in Europe: Part 3

When last I left you, we were just finishing up the cruise portion of our trip. Sadly, we had to say goodbye to my sister, Jodi, when we docked in Basel, our last stop (actually, she left in the middle of the night, so I'm not sure we properly said goodbye to her at all!). Jodi has a baby (have I mentioned that?) who needed to see her mama. Or maybe it was the other way around.

At any rate, Jodi had planned to stay for a week, then head home.

Sorry, Jodi. You'll have to save Switzerland for another time.

***

So, yes, Switzerland.

If it weren't so danged expensive, I would live here. Truly. It is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been.

And I've been to a few places.

As I said, we docked in Basel, sorted out the luggage situation between those who were staying with the group (like us) and those who were heading elsewhere (I honestly don't know how they do that), and boarded a bus to take us into the Old Town.

Here's where I have to stop and say that our guide was lovely, the town was, I think, lovely as well, but I didn't take many pictures because a) I was getting tired and b) it was so. blasted. HOT.

(Are you sensing a theme here?)

Truth be told, we kind of dragged ourselves around Basel, as any good been-on-a-ship-for-a-week-and-we're-getting-a-little-tired-of-arranged-tours kind of tourists would do. Once the tour finished, we sat at an outdoor cafe for as long as we dared and basically just waited until we could get onto our air conditioned bus again.

Lame, I know.

Here's what I got out of Basel.

They have a beautiful medieval church.

In the summer, the church square is used as a huge outdoor movie theatre. I would have actually liked to stay and check that out at night--it looked very cool.

And, as in many places in Europe, nannies drag children around on leashes. On cobblestone streets.

Aren't these some of the most adorable children you've ever seen? That face!

And that's pretty much what I got out of Basel.

Except for Swiss Francs which I got out of the ATM.

After a half a day in Basel, we finally got on to our air conditioned(!) bus to drive about two hours to Lucerne.

Ahhhh, Lucerne.

I had never been there before, but I am fairly certain I will be back. What a beautiful town. Smaller than Zurich, easily walkable, and truly, truly gorgeous.

The famous wooden bridge--lots of history there. Mom, Jenn, and I walked the length of it one night after dinner.

Speaking of dinner . . . this is the restaurant where we ate, Pfistern. Historic and touristy--just how we like 'em! But the food was really good, AND we got to sit right on the water. So fun!

So many of the facades of the old buildings were painted--even the fascia! I was astounded by the Old Town as street after street looked just as they probably looked hundreds of years ago with cobblestone streets and painted buildings.

I really need to go spend more time here.

On Saturdays there is a wonderful outdoor market right along the river, filled with every kind of delicacy you can imagine--from flowers and fruits to fresh vegetables and cheeses. I am convinced that Heaven will have some sort of market like this for us to wander around.

On our second day in Switzerland we took a trip up Mt. Pilatus on the world's oldest and steepest cog wheel train. Just think about that for a minute. Me, who is terrified of heights, stepping on to, not only the steepest climb on a train that you can take, but also in the oldest train cars. Yeah, I was a little scared.

But not as scared as one guy in our group who decided just to hoof it back to Lucerne as fast as he could.

His loss.

Because here is the reward we received when we got to the top.

No, it's not a postcard, even though it looks like one. Truly breathtaking.

Especially at 8,000 feet. (Get it?!)

Three of the most beautiful women to ever grace the top of Mt. Pilatus. :)

Finally, I could not stop taking pictures of this tiny, tiny church sitting up on top of a nearby mountain peak. How I would love to be able to hike there and spend a day worshiping there.

Can you see the cross at the top of the peak?

The next day we boarded a little boat which would take us from one corner of Lake Lucerne to the other. I tried to take some pictures, but they really didn't do it justice.

And, besides, it was just too hot to take pictures. (Good grief! You'd think we were in Death Valley, not Switzerland, by the way I keep talking about how hot it was, but that's how it felt, y'all. It was so surprising and so unusual for Switzerland.)

Once we reached the shore, we boarded busses which would take us on a very memorable drive through the mountains and villages of Switzerland until we reached our final destination, Zurich. On our drive we rode past the Victorinox factory where Swiss Army knives are made--cool!--and the area which inspired Johanna Spyri to write the famous book, Heidi.

You can just imagine how gorgeous that was.

The last stop on our wonderful, amazing trip was Zurich. I had been to Zurich before--for about four hours on a Sunday night before catching a flight out the next morning--and knew how beautiful this city was. It was a special treat to be able to spend a little more time here.

Sadly, and probably because I had been here before, I didn't take many pictures here. It was pouring rain on the day of our tour, so the camera had to stay hidden underneath my jacket. And once the rain stopped, I was just too tired to even bring it out.

Suffice it to say that Zurich is definitely a place you want to put on your bucket list. It is beautiful. What more can I say?

I absolutely fell in love with the way they decorate with herbs and green plants there. Isn't that cool?!

Plus, they have fondue. Which is delicious. And made with my favorite food. I could eat it every day.

Go to Zurich. See it. Experience it. Walk your socks off and eat it up. Zurich is wonderful.

Finally, reluctantly, we got on a plane and headed home.

When I say it was the trip of a lifetime, I really mean it. Never again will I be able to experience just this trip with these special people whom I love and meet the new friends we met and see the exact things we saw. It was absolutely magical, and I'll never forget it.

Thanks, Mom, from the bottom of my heart.

xoxo

Kicking the Bucket List in Europe: Part 1
Kicking the Bucket List in Europe: Part 2

Time to Get to Work

Before my eyes were even open this morning, they hurt. Two days ago a little something lodged its way into my left eye, and before I woke up this morning I knew it was still there. I rubbed and rubbed, trying to get whatever it is to move, but it wouldn’t.

An irritation that just won’t go away.

An itch I can’t scratch. A scratch I can’t soothe.

Like so much of me right now. I’m feeling prickly and fussy and not quite right in my skin.

The phone rings; I jump.

A pebble works its way into my sandal; I complain just a little too loudly.

My head hurts. My feet hurt. My heart hurts.

I try to explain it to my friend while we walk, but the just-right words won’t come. Her words, however, fit perfectly: “It’s like when everyone in your life is trying to push you in a direction you don’t want to go.”

Yeah. That.

Some days.

Some days you want to throw up your hands in surrender. “OK, Life. You win. You want to get the best of me? You did. You are.”

Maybe it’s change that does this to me. (Too much of that lately.) Maybe it’s a lack of white space in my life. (Not enough of that.) Maybe it’s concern for the people around me. (Tons of that going on.)  

Maybe it’s selfishness or pride or just who I am.

Maybe it’s all of those things combined.

A million little problems escalate into mountains that should be molehills.

A thousand worries worm their way into my consciousness throughout the day.

A hundred stories about this gone wrong or that gone wrong, all left untold.

It's only a few days, and I'm already looking for an escape.

I pick up my Bible and start reading where I left off. Joseph is in pretty bad straits. He’s been forgotten, alone, abandoned in prison. People have disappointed him. Lied, even. And yet, there is no sense that he has lost hope.

Finally, the day comes when Joseph is remembered, when things start looking up for him. Does he say, “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to get here! Just look at how horrible my life has been. I so deserve to get out of here”?

No. Joseph just gets busy doing the work God has for him.

Pharaoh has had a dream, and he asks Joseph to interpret it for him. And I stumble across this verse: “’It is beyond my power to do this,’ Joseph replied, ‘But God can tell you what it means and set you at ease.’” (Genesis 41:16)

“It is beyond my power to do this.” I can so relate.

It is beyond my power to protect my children when they are away from home. It is beyond my power to solve issues at work. It is beyond my power to help my husband deal with the stress of his job. It is beyond my power to make everyone happy.

So much is beyond my power.

“But God,” says Joseph. “But God can tell you what it means and set you at ease.”

That’s what I’m looking for—a mind, a heart set at ease. Peace.

Obviously, I’m looking in the wrong places. I’m trying to worry my problems away rather than resting in God. I’m trying to will things to go the way I want rather than trusting that God will make things right. All of this fussing, getting me nowhere.

Beyond my power. . . .

. . . But God.

Time to get to work.

Can you relate? (Tell me you can.) How will you trust God today?

Book Reviews: So Long Insecurity Teen Edition and One Year Devos for Teen Girls

When Tyndale wrote to ask if I’d review a couple of books for teens, I jumped at the chance. Why not have my own teenager read them and give me some feedback? Julia (who is 15) and I read these books separately, but I’ve combined our thoughts about the books here.

So Long Insecurity Teen Edition by Beth Moore

I read Beth Moore’s original book, So Long Insecurity, a couple of years ago and really enjoyed it. I like the main premise of both books (the one for adults and the one for teens), which is basically that you can be secure in who God made you to be. Insecurity comes when we want something more than what God intended for us—a relationship with Him.

The teen version of the book is laid out in a magazine format with lots of colorful pictures of happy, smiling girls in cute clothes. To be honest, if I were an insecure teen, I’d wonder what those girls had that I didn’t. But, hey, that's just my insecurity talking, right? 

The magazine format didn’t do much for me, but Julia seemed to like it. (She especially got a kick out of seeing a couple of girls from her school who were models in the book.) The articles were fine—just a little “light.” I’d say that this book would be appropriate for girls in the 12-15 year range.

One thing I really liked about the book was the chapter at the end that spells out what a secure girl looks like. For example, “A secure girl lifts up other girls instead of comparing herself to them.” And, “A secure girl doesn’t base her sense of worth on being popular or having that ‘one thing’ she thinks will make her happy.” This really drives the main ideas home and leaves girls thinking about what they should be striving after.

One Year Devos for Teen Girls by Dannah Gresh and Suzy Weibel

Now this is a book I’d love for my girls to read and read and read again. It’s written in your basic devotional format: Bible verse, some real-life stories and examples, and application. Simple, easy to follow, and easy to understand.

The authors tackle some difficult subjects (depression, bullying, homosexuality), but they handle them biblically and, I think, very well. Several entries are devoted to Facebook, which is obviously a relevant topic to teen girls, as well as hyperconnectivity and, of course, boys. All important topics to look at in light of what the Bible has to say about life.

For girls who want to know what God thinks about topics that matter to them today, this devotional is great. It’s fresh, it’s relevant, and it’s no-nonsense biblical wisdom for young women who want to go deeper in their relationship with God.

You can buy these books here. You can connect with Tyndale Teens on Twitter or Instagram, too!

I received two books from Tyndale for this review, but the opinions are my own.

To Kindergarten Moms . . . and then some

I see you, Mama.

I know you.

I’ve been you.

Today, as you send your kindergartner out the door, maybe for the very first time, emotions are running high.

You’re worried.

You’re excited.

You’re scared.

And so much more.

Most of all, you wonder if you’ve done enough. You wonder if you’ve prepared him to sit still that long (he will). You wonder if she knows her letters (she doesn’t have to). You wonder if you’ve emphasized kindness or courage or faith enough.

And you wonder, somewhere deep down, if you’ve been enough.

I cried that morning when I sent my first baby to kindergarten in her little blue dress and pink tennis shoes and a headband barely attempting to tame those unruly cowlicks. She stood in line behind a huge, cut-out teddy bear on a stick that bore the name of her teacher, Mrs. Nagle, with kids she would later know throughout her high school years.

Her nametag, also in the shape of a teddy bear, said, “Katie W.” Crumpled within five minutes, of course.

I felt slightly helpless as I watched her march into her classroom, all smiles, all “I’ve got this, Mom.”

I was surprised by my tears. Wasn’t I supposed to be happy? This is what I had been looking forward to all summer. Two and a half glorious hours without being peppered with questions or of being asked to read or of breaking up fights with sisters.

Still, I cried.

The other two were slightly easier, but only slightly. Because every time I send a child off to school I wonder, have I been enough?

Have I spent the time I should spend with her? Have I encouraged her in her faith? Have I been the mom she has needed me to be?

Have I . . ?

Here’s what I want you to know, sweet mama. You have.

You have been enough. You ARE enough. You are exactly the mom your kindergartener needs for right now, today, forever.

My own mom spent many years grieving—truly grieving—to the point that being a mom was hard. Today I’m sure she has the same questions we all do: have I been enough? And yet, I can honestly say that I never once, ever, have looked back on my childhood and wished my mom had been more.

She was there. And she was mine.

Dear mama, know this. Believe it. Trust it. You are exactly who your child needs.

Right now.

Today.

Forever.

Good Reads

Happy Sunday! I'm enjoying a few minutes of early morning peace on my porch and thinking about all the good stuff I read this week. Here are a few of my favorites.

A Cautionary Tale for Mothers :: Shelly Miller, Redemption's Beauty. I am so glad to have found Shelly. I resonate with so much of what she writes--and the way she writes it. This sentence really got me in this post: "But the most common mistake many of us make is assuming motherhood as an identity, instead of a gift."

When Dreams Change :: Mary at Giving Up on Perfect. I just love Mary's honesty here and how she's pursuing God. 

Mom of the Year :: 16 Balls in the Air. Read this. Just read it. You will laugh so hard. I know my family did!

Why You Should Stop Waiting for Life to be Perfect :: Shauna Nyquist at the Storyline blog. Shauna is quickly becoming one of my favorite voices out there. I love how she challenges us to find special moments in the everyday.

A Sending Prayer for College Freshmen :: Emily at Chatting at the Sky. School starts for me in a couple of weeks, and since I teach a lot of freshmen students, I found this post to be spot on. I think these words can encourage any college student, though--even the two I'm sending out next week. (*sniff sniff*)

Finally, I have to share this post (Because Love Does :: Ginny Melby at Lies Young Women Believe blog) from one of my former students (and one of Kate's best friends) who had an amazing adventure paddleboarding across Lake Michigan this summer. As her professor, I'm so proud of Ginny's great writing here, but as her friend, I'm more proud of the courageous, beautiful young woman she is. Ginny's family recently received some very difficult news and they are walking through deep waters right now (you can learn more about that here). She shared with me that this paddleboarding trip, while difficult, was nothing compared to what they are going through now, but she firmly believes that God has used this experience to prepare her. Please pray for Ginny's family in the weeks and months ahead. I know it would mean so much to them.

Well, it looks to be a gorgeous early-Fall Sunday around here, and I intend to enjoy every minute of it. Hope you enjoy yours as well. 

Wondering

We were there to work; they were there for respite.

We enjoyed the scenery; they drank it in, mountain air so crisp and clean and refreshing. So different from the dusty, dirty streets where they lived.

One week. One act of service. One bond that will stretch to eternity.

***

I turn on the news to see those same dusty, dirty streets exploding in fire. Man against man. Emotions running high. Name-calling and gun-slinging and everyone just. so. sure. that their way is the right way.

I hear of churches being burned, their stained glass treasures broken and blackened. Ancient art turned to dust. Sacred pages destroyed, but not forgotten.

Worst of all, I learn of atrocities against these people who want nothing more than to worship in peace.

And I think of them.

Where are they? How are they? Are they still alive? Have they been exposed? Are they even still there?

Every day my heart and my prayers turn to them. And I wonder.

***

It was one week. One week of service five years ago. A few pleasant conversations. But the bond extends beyond the reasons of time and space, here and now. We know of an eternal friendship and the impact is not lost.

These are brothers and sisters, the persecuted. I wonder and I worry and I realize that this could be me, the one being hated, tried, persecuted for my faith.

My mind, it won't stop thinking, praying, wondering where my friends are. 

***

Whatever the outcome, I know that what I have read is true: “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

And I know that they are safe.