For the love of Lent? Come hungry.

The season of Lent begins today. But I think it might be a bit overshadowed by another celebration. As I wandered the pink and red aisles at Target yesterday, I did not find a single Welcome to Lent or Happy Ash Wednesday card. It’s a strange thing, the Lenten season ushering itself in on Valentine’s Day. The day of love mingling with the day of repentance is hard for our brains to process. Not to mention, it is going to make giving up chocolate extra hard. Read More

A prayer for the wrong day

I had the wrong day. All day. There are weeks where Wednesday and Thursday are somewhat interchangeable. But this was not one of them. I sent the wrong kid to school with a note to stay after on the wrong day. I took the wrong kid to the dentist appointment, drove the wrong way to basketball practice and even put the wrong dinner in the crockpot, which I also forgot to turn on. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Yeah. One of those days. Read More

The days of small steps

George has the greatest smile I’ve ever seen. It is the first thing I notice when I meet him. He flashes his grin, refers to me as “young lady” and immediately becomes my new best friend. George can’t hear worth a darn, though, but that doesn’t keep him from talking. His booming voice fills the whole clinic as he and I endure our physical therapy sessions together twice a week. George can count to 30 slower than anyone I know, but his smile makes it all okay. Read More

We are what we notice

Tattling is a serious crime around our house. I have always had the rule that both the tale-teller and the wrongdoer will be punished. “Work it out! Unless there is blood. Then you should come get me” has been my parenting mantra for over a dozen years. And I can never understand why that Mother of the Year award just keeps eluding me? Read More

Walk much?

I am not an athlete. Never have been. I can fall down standing still; and have no desire to beat anyone at anything. These are not positive attributes when it comes to sports. Somehow, though, in college, I got addicted to running. And all these years later, I am not particularly good at it, but it is still my thing. I love the wind in my face, the pavement under my feet and the movement that helps silence all the things in my head. Oddly enough, it is the only time I feel still enough to listen. Read More

Growing roses when you have a brown thumb

I have rifled through albums and boxes of pictures from my growing up years and made an impressive discovery. Photography in the 1970’s and 80’s was not a thing like it is now. I was searching for a picture of the lovely roses my mom grew in our backyard when I was a child. But there was not one picture of just those roses. No one snapped photos of a backyard back then. Those roses served only as a backdrop for all of our special events; including my own christening in 1975 (so you get a little 70’s style with the image this week!). In my early childhood memories, however, those rose bushes were a much bigger deal. Read More

A view of the year from above

This summer we took a trip to Colorado to see our dear friends. And as we look back over 2017, this is by far the Sain family’s favorite memory. It was our first trip out west, the boys first plane ride and so good for our hearts to be with our friends. It was also the first time we ever attempted to drive a rental car filled with five boys up a snowy mountain road in hopes of getting a view from the top of Pike’s Peak. This little adventure topped our list as one of the most terrifying and most amazing things we did this year. Read More

A letter to all of us about Joy– the kind we can’t find at the mall

Dear all of you “Christmas joy makers”, this letter is for you and for me. I know you’re out there. You probably don’t even think you have time to read this little letter. You have Christmas joy to make. It’s a big job, I know. I see you racing about, eyes on the clock, lists in hand. I hear you on the phone in the never-ending check-out lines making all the plans. Christmas won’t come if you don’t make it. I know. Read More

When peace comes like a snowstorm

We will be talking about it for years to come. The snowstorm that blew into the South on only the second week of Advent. The storm that no one saw coming. It fell from the sky in huge downy flakes and coated our Christmas lights and holly wreaths like postcard pictures. And it screeched the hustle and bustle of our holidays to a complete halt. Because this is the South. And we don’t do snow. Read More

The music of Hope – First in our Advent Series

A missing tuxedo shirt, black pants that suddenly seem to have shrunk,  and a cello banging around in the back of my van with the basketballs can only mean one thing. It is concert season! Holidays here we come … Read More