It called to me from the thrift store jewelry case—a vintage pearl face watch with translucent beads and just the right Bohemian flair for my flowy outfit. It had probably belonged to someone’s grandma. For a few bucks, it would be a shame not to clasp it around my wrist. I wore it several times
I once wrote a twenty-word “fast fact” for a corporate report that got slapped with a 200-word disclaimer by the legal team. Imagine, twenty words saddled with ten times their weight in unwieldly corporate claptrap—connected through an asterisk and buried in 8-point type. Makes me think. I’m so glad Jesus didn’t complicate things. He just
Only now at age 50 have I found my calling. I want to be an old bag. I’ll explain. If life were a bag, I’d want mine to look like this weathered leather briefcase. I want to be worn from all the hands that found comfort in mine. I want to be expanded from loads
“Are you supposed to be here or are you on the cut list?” Racine softball Coach Charlie Collins barks out the question to left fielder Shirley Baker in the 1992 movie, A League of Their Own. It’s the critical moment after tryouts when 64 women will have made four teams in the first all-female baseball league.
We can trust the vinedresser’s careful hands. He knows what to cut now. He knows what to cut later. He prunes what He expects to grow. And He puts the shears down and sustains us when the wind, rain and fierce elements of this world lay us low.
“I’m so sorry that happened to your pretty coat,” the flight attendant said, handing me a claim slip to submit to the airline. They’d have my brand new pink coat dry cleaned, she promised. I made the mistake of sticking it in the overhead bin, where items shift during flight and greasy hinges shift your
Hi there! If your inbox has got you down, I can fix that! Join my email list for a monthly dose of faith, freedom, and the lost art of fun! (Plus, I like giving free stuff away.)