tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54724833181957498102012-02-16T22:46:30.102-05:00Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.comBlogger911100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-52079008713874076762011-08-03T22:04:00.000-04:002011-08-03T22:04:12.726-04:00

Cuddled in a sea of pink blankets and flowered pillows, I listen to her read. Her sweet little voice makes the words float, light and carefree. As they hit my ears and heart they are heavy with meaning, and I can hardly concentrate. Every night we read a page from Jesus Wants All of Me, giving us an incredible opportunity to discuss Scripture, the short devotion and pray together. I don't think

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-91566340281460736992011-08-02T07:00:00.001-04:002011-08-02T07:00:11.579-04:00

The chandelier is rattling from the kids jumping off beds upstairs...hmmm, I swear I told them not to do that. I continue to chop tomatoes...rattle, rattle, thump. Music blaring. Kids can't hear me yell to stop. Hands covered in tomatoes. I'll tell 'em to stop as soon as I finish these onions too. Tears streaming down my face. (gotta love chopping onions) Hands covered in tomatoes and onions.

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-42921004930580635422011-07-31T23:36:00.000-04:002011-07-31T23:36:21.826-04:00

The heat from my burning cheeks was inching down my neck and over my ears. My embarrassment was showing, for sure. So was my frustration and anger. As I bent over to pick up the magazines I could feel the stares of the grocery store patrons and hear the snickers. Like knocking over a magazine rack (yep, a rack) isn't embarrassing enough, only minutes before I had taken out a couple of boxes of

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-42066559741957114522011-07-29T09:09:00.002-04:002011-07-29T09:09:01.220-04:00

Her golden hair nearly sparkled in the sun. The blue-green water rushed to greet her shrieks of delight and kiss her wiggling toes. The joy of vacation, of the beach, of life bubbled out of her. And then, she began leaping. Jumping for joy, if you will. Joy. That is unfettered joy. And as I watched her leap, splash and play I wondered if I have ever jumped for joy. Literally, jumped. This is

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-86424205457705753242011-07-28T07:00:00.005-04:002011-07-28T08:15:23.190-04:00

Piles of construction paper. Glue. Stickers. Scissors. Bits and pieces of paper. As though the craft bin exploded in the living room. It overwhelmed me...overwhelms me. And in all honesty part of it still sits on the living room floor.  The aftermath cast a shadow over the project. Over the impact. Over the reasons. Over The reason. ...whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-449830039600609902011-07-27T14:45:00.000-04:002011-07-27T14:45:04.859-04:00

Scrap of paper between us. Words scribbled in haste a link between hearts. God's grace and meager thanks laid upon the table cloth. It was a moment in time. For her, one more face in a long line of excited strangers. For me a moment that will forever live in my heart and one more piece of my life rebuilt. "There's something different about her," several women would comment about her later. "But

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-39421951348756127072011-07-18T16:22:00.000-04:002011-07-18T16:22:12.276-04:00

I love to hide things where people will find them and be blessed. Love notes for my hubby taped to the mirror or in his coat pocket (or the year I put valentines in his boots and he didn't know it...wore 'em all day and ground the little notes into lint!). Little surprises for my kids...like an out of the blue snack on the breakfast table sweet, delicious and just waiting for their little fingers

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-14362035942859410722011-07-13T23:20:00.000-04:002011-07-13T23:20:40.892-04:00

It was as if the words hung in the air. The song played on, but the line sat there in front of me. As though written on the windshield I had to look through the words to see the truth of my life...past and present. As a birthmother I have heard a lot about how noble my sacfrice was. What a gift I've given the girls and their families. And I have wanted to believe that, but it felt like there

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-83270832920263568452011-06-17T11:06:00.000-04:002011-06-17T11:06:39.824-04:00

Hidden under the heavy blankets with the fan whirring above me I finally let it out. Tears. Not sobs or that ugly cry. Just tears. One after another. Like someone had opened the release valve for my heart.  His body, crumpled by years and time, precariously perched in his wheelchair watching as I hung the crayon masterpieces delivered by sticky hands with sing song descriptions and tales. This is

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-44777608716017408162011-06-13T10:30:00.000-04:002011-06-13T10:30:50.615-04:00

Her little hands held a small booklet. An answer to a mommy prayer. A moment I almost missed. As I begin planning next year's homeschooling, many goals, hope, and ideas have popped into my head. And as I prayerfully sort through all my what ifs, one has continued to pop up. Beginning the morning with the Lord. A moment with the God. Helping my children learn the habits of rooting their days in

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-65285051360222387372011-06-03T10:17:00.000-04:002011-06-03T10:17:32.891-04:00

After a busy week where I met myself coming and going, there's nothing better than stopping to count our blessings. lighting bugstomatoes on the vine hidden under fragrant green leavesthe smell of basil...in the living roomprayersthe feel of my hubby's hand on the small of my backPaxton's wave from the poolside where he sits in swimming lessonsIsabel reading every word that comes in front of

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-24892356589407487702011-05-21T13:06:00.000-04:002011-05-21T13:06:27.691-04:00

Her little hand clutched in mine we lay on her bed. The house was still and quiet. As evening set in around us, she began to pray. {we'll get to the prayer in a minute} Perhaps one of the things that amazes me most about being a mother is how much God uses it to teach me. Motherhood has become my training ground for patience, kindness, truth, love, every imaginable skill (and some I never

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-5509362942226361462011-05-20T08:00:00.003-04:002011-05-20T10:31:13.314-04:00

Six months ago I knew where I was, knew where I was headed, and knew where I had been. Every thing was in its place. In the past two months I have felt like I was at the center of a cosmic game of 52 card pick up. Only the cards were the pieces of my life that had been neatly ordered and set in a row. I was lost. Am lost. Still. Kind of. I still have no idea where God is leading in this

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-19223184886469555532011-05-06T16:48:00.000-04:002011-05-06T16:48:23.197-04:00

I wish you could hear the peace of this place. The late afternoon calm that descends on our backyard like sun-kissed grace wrapping around us. Alas, no video could make you feel the warmth of the sunshine or the kiss of the slow breeze across your bare shoulders. No recording could do justice to the song of the birds in the trees or the tinkling giggles of the windchimes. And I realize as I sit

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-45327147780927430472011-05-06T07:00:00.046-04:002011-05-06T13:04:39.005-04:00

The stretch marks across my belly are like a road map into the past. My belly. Despite my weight issues, I love it! I love the memories of the blessings my belly has held. On Sunday, Mother's Day, I will celebrate with two of those little blessings. Being a wife and mother were dreams I didn't know how to dream and now they are dreams come true everyday. But the day before Mother's Day there

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-62497779809938176922011-05-04T11:50:00.000-04:002011-05-04T11:50:34.832-04:00

With dirt under my finger nails and sweat dripping off my forhead I sit down. A moment's rest, earned and appreciated. Tiny plants in the ground in front of me. It is planting time.  Oh how I love this time of year. When the flowers are blooming, leaves are returning to the trees and it is time to begin the garden. Even for all the new growth, beauty and goodness springing up around me I realize

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-22013732725721069962011-04-13T11:43:00.000-04:002011-04-13T11:43:15.250-04:00

Have you ever been through a season of life where everything just seems off? When those major components of your life are just not right? I'm living in one of those seasons now and I have concluded that my bucket is leaking. The emotionally trying days of church issues, family drama, fractured feet, ministry hiccups and routines tossed out the window are taking their toll on me. If I was a

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-27744560329497420042011-03-15T11:14:00.000-04:002011-03-15T11:14:08.852-04:00

"Wait to go Chubs!"  "Your turn, Chubs."  "Can't you do anything Chubs?" The summer before third grade my family moved across the country. I was in a new state at a camp before school started...my chance to make friends. And a boy I didn't know started calling me "Chubs". It caught on. Before I made a single friend. Before school even started. I was marked. It was a mark that would not

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-9721676377192430132011-03-14T12:43:00.000-04:002011-03-14T12:43:45.330-04:00

Monday morning my email inbox was full. Super full. While that fact is neither new or terribly remarkable it was the content of many of the emails that moves me to write this morning. As I moved from email to email I was floored by amount of prayer requests I had received. So many are desperate and hurting. I need of their family (real or virtual) to step in the gap and hold them in prayer and

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-34178153685636637262011-03-10T10:15:00.001-05:002011-03-10T10:16:59.004-05:00

Thanks to everyone who visited and commented yesterday. Seems like so many of us are searching for the "right" system to get organized. For today's winners I hope that ListPlanIt's Home Education Planner is that system. So here are our winners (drawn out of a knight's helmet by my kiddos).... ~ Katrina~ Julie C~ Valerie~ Brenda~ Anna Ladies, I need your full name and addresses to give to

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-43374478579635734182011-03-09T08:00:00.001-05:002011-03-09T08:00:22.857-05:00

Have you ever eaten a peanut butter sandwich with really crumbly bread. Somewhere toward the end of the sandwich the peanut butter is really the only thing holding it all together.  It isn't pretty, but you get through it and enjoy it for what it is. A sticky, crumbly mess of yumminess. Well, yesterday was totally a crumbly peanut butter sandwich homeschool day for our family. It seemed like

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-64583842367105432622011-03-08T12:50:00.002-05:002011-03-08T12:56:38.530-05:00

Okay, so I love planning...anything. But I especially enjoy planning our homeschooling. Day. Month. Week. Year! Well, tomorrow I am so excited to be able to offer the Home Education eplanner (from ListPlanIt). It will be a homeschooling organization party!! Woohoo!! Great timing to winner one of five eplanners, as I know many of us have started to plan next year or begin to look for our

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-36172900966454723852011-03-06T19:38:00.001-05:002011-03-07T09:44:11.140-05:00

Death came to call this week. When it left grief and pain hung in the air, and life seemed scarred and hardened. As I look for sense in madness, for love where it was rejected, for reasons where they are hidden unto eternity, I cry. From sobs to lone tears to that ugly cry that makes your face contort, your nose run and your eyes ache. Each tear a plea to Heaven. With the sting of death (

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-10231001925629556462011-03-02T10:52:00.001-05:002011-03-02T12:22:29.545-05:00

On Facebook this morning there was a picture that reminded me of belly laughter. Of laughing so hard you cry. Of joy. And today, I choose joy. Even though the laundry is piled up.Even though my children are arguing, again.Even though this week is insanely busy.Even though so many around us are broken and hurting. Even though... Isn't it easy to even though ourselves right out of love, life, and

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-10923024601746358722011-02-28T10:22:00.001-05:002011-02-28T13:22:10.317-05:00

Monday hadn't even started and I was already lamenting the week. Our schedule the next two has exploded, and I'm already feeling the pressure. Snug under the covers I began the next chapter of One Thousand Gifts, and was astonished by the words. The sentences. God speaking into my life with the keystrokes of another. "I speak it to God: I don't really want more time; I just want enough time.

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-5209361500339542642011-02-24T11:47:00.000-05:002011-02-24T11:47:38.308-05:00

{this post was written by my sweet friend Mary Kathryn...it was inspired by events that happened to me yesterday. The truths are too good not to share.} i read a friend’s status update yesterday on facebook. a woman she had just met, with whom she has a mutual friend in common, said to her, ‘you’re not as fake as i had heard you were.’ my friend graciously said, ‘nice to meet you’ and went on

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-55427878140272099222011-02-22T10:52:00.004-05:002011-02-22T11:01:01.441-05:00

I have started no less than 7 blog posts since yesterday. Wanting to share with you what's in my heart. The redemption and love that shone in my life yesterday.But I just can't find the words. So in honor of all the words I find to write. I am starting my 1000 gifts list (inspired by One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp...a challenging, beautiful, life changing book). Because life is a gift. Christ

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-46536152475789565972011-02-21T07:00:00.001-05:002011-02-21T08:32:43.310-05:00

Swing.Miss.Swing.Miss.Swing.Miss.I'd pitch. The ball would go by him. Then he'd swing.Over and over again.In the twenty minutes of our front yard baseball game Paxton never once connected with the ball. Not once. Every time it rolled down the driveway he ran after it. Laughing and galloping all the way. His smile never faded. He found joy in the process. Joy despite his repeated failure (in the

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-60369908146834678302011-02-18T11:30:00.003-05:002011-02-18T11:59:14.910-05:00

"In case you haven't heard...""You should pray for ______ , because....""I spoke to _______, yesterday. Can you believe...."Oh Gossip. We are a society that lives to talk about what others are doing. In the dirty details of others lives we wallow like pigs. Have you ever stepped in mud? I mean really stepped in...your shoe is so deep that when you finally pull it out you hear that sucking sound?

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-51517184028787063882011-02-14T15:57:00.010-05:002011-02-16T08:38:44.934-05:00

The little magnet on the back barely holds it onto the fridge. The sheer weight of its truth almost makes it too heavy to be useful. But even before it touched the fridge something about the craft struck a chord so deep in me that I almost couldn't breathe.I can hear some of you now. Um, yeah, Wendy its a foam heart with a cross on it. And???Stick with me here.Just hours before Jesus died He was

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-342385979089407272011-02-13T14:37:00.003-05:002011-02-14T09:26:27.567-05:00

When we were dating and falling in love Will asked me, "Are you in love with love?" He went on to tell me how his friend had told him to avoid women who just were in love with love and not with the man.I quickly assured him that I was in love with him...not with love. In all truth I had no idea what that question meant. Still don't.And while I didn't want him to think I was some lunatic girl in

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-88529453754121411692011-02-11T11:01:00.008-05:002011-02-11T14:06:18.160-05:00

"For years of mornings, have woken wanting to die. Life itself twists into nightmare. For years, I've pulled the covers up over my head, dreading to begin another day I'd be bound to just wreck. Years, I lie listening to the taunt of names ringing off my interior walls, ones from the past that never drifted far and away: Loser. Mess. Failure. They are signs nailed overhead, nailed through me,

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-71536559072298448112011-02-09T09:14:00.003-05:002011-02-09T10:13:18.296-05:00

They say that admitting your problem is the first step to healing.So...My name is Wendy and I struggle with unbelief.Yep, I have a belief problem.It isn't that I don't believe Jesus can save, heal, love and more. It isn't that I don't pray for those things or ask for those things. It is that I just don't believe enough. There are times when I get caught in a cycle prayer or thoughts that start

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-55287661038122166172011-02-07T13:31:00.003-05:002011-02-07T14:05:22.237-05:00

I held his food bowl in my hand. Drool was pooling on the deck where it was dripping from his mouth. He was sitting patiently. Waiting. Triton knew food was coming. A reward for his obedience. In my other hand I held her bowl. She was twitching, wiggling, and whining. Sitting is hard for her. Barlow is a sweet dog and if you can engage her brain for 25 seconds she can be obedient. But this

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-4255381486168669242011-02-03T15:57:00.007-05:002011-02-03T16:25:43.441-05:00

From the moment I held my newborn babies I knew life would never be the same. In the wee hours of the mornings during feedings and fevers, in the moments of laughter and the moments of discipline I knew God was using my children to make me a better person.I had no idea how my five-year-old would change my world view in a moment and inspire me to do more. (If you haven't already read Whose Child

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-78770098628436707302011-02-01T15:27:00.003-05:002011-02-01T15:59:33.000-05:00

"Whose child is she?" A question jokingly asked in our house frequently. Whether it is the "concerts" with complete with microphone & guitar, a fashion show or the occasional meltdown with screaming and carrying on, I often look at my daughter and wonder. Whose child is she?Lately I have noticed something different in the way Isabel plays and how she speaks about when she's older (or how she says

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-42913623135415551112011-01-28T09:56:00.007-05:002011-01-28T11:28:25.245-05:00

A sweet song of worship rings in the air as my alarm goes off. The house is still and in the whisper of time before the day begins it is easy to remember God's promises, to believe that every step of my day is covered in His plans, and to live like I believe.But......there's juice spilled on the carpet....there is a mountain of laundry and only half a cup of detergent....there are screaming

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-21998984435132271232011-01-25T17:15:00.000-05:002011-01-25T17:14:06.816-05:00

I have a confession to make.I'm not an uber-Christian.Shocked, are you?? Anyone, who knows me well, has stood next to me the grocery line or reads this blog, probably has already figured that out.But you know what. I wish I was. I hear about people who spend hours on their knees and have a dynamic prayer life. Or folks traveling around the world on amazing trips to share Jesus with the lost,

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-81283524474014625402011-01-24T11:49:00.002-05:002011-01-24T13:58:35.820-05:00

I looked up and was shocked to realize where I was. I had passed the exit I was headed to...by a few miles! Shaking my head I focused on where I was and my inner GPS began its own recalculating chant. Quickly I exited the highway and began to wind my way back to where I was headed. The one place I had to go this morning.10 minutes of backtracking later I was back on track and focusing.I

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-59720019900497733862011-01-19T11:04:00.005-05:002011-01-19T11:38:44.173-05:00

So, I've been grumbling for a couple of weeks. (we'll get to why, in a minute)And suddenly this morning, God took the things I've been reading, praying, studying and writing and brought them into focus. He quite literally shifted the lens of my life so I could see what was right in front of me.In focus, it is ugly. We're talking U-G-L-Y....ugly.We had the amazing opportunity to study "Growing

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-66697943471812246242010-05-03T09:34:00.001-04:002010-05-03T09:34:36.990-04:00

A huge daisy, 20+ inches across, sprouted out of a large bright blue tin pail. Tickets stacked up, clipboard out, pens at the ready and four women standing around the table...we were ready. As service ended and people walked into the cafeteria there were butterflies in my stomach. We were prepared for the stampede of women who couldn't wait to purchase their tickets for women's ministry launch

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-77689633656560705602010-04-29T09:45:00.001-04:002010-04-29T09:45:19.099-04:00

I know what color socks you are wearing. I know when you are stuck in traffic. I know when your birthday is and can even send you greetings from my living room. I know your favorite books, movies and quotes. I know when you have good days and bad. Nope, I'm not a stalker...I'm your Facebook friend. And as great as it is to be in instant communication with my friends and gobble up little bits of

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-2209229934979389402010-04-28T10:05:00.001-04:002010-04-28T10:05:08.594-04:00

Sitting at my desk as I look out the window I can see grass, trees and flowers I planted last weekend.  This doesn't seem so terribly remarkable to you, I suppose, because you don't know the old view. Until last week five foot tall (probably closer to six...at any rate they were taller than me!) boxwoods blocked out the sun and my only view was the edge of greenery and the deadwood underneath.

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-69061948383902943262010-04-27T08:50:00.001-04:002010-04-27T08:50:21.068-04:00

In her final moments, they were with her. After weeks of cleaning her home, doing her laundry, administering her medication, cooking for her and so much more they sacrificed sleep and comfort zones to hold her hand as death knocked. They weren't her sisters, hired help or nurses...they were her friends. Even in my grief I was aware of how well these women had loved my aunt. And in the days and

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-12025428529744844242010-03-31T21:38:00.001-04:002010-03-31T21:38:43.551-04:00

Okay, can I just tell you about my day...it was awesome. My sweet fairy-god-mother-in-law came to watch my precious little monsters so I could take the afternoon to hang out with a great friend, learn about dogs & dog training, and just be Wendy for a while. Hmmm...throw in the incredible weather and you have the recipe for a great day....great day! And while I bask in the glow of a day off

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-74187785331555952932010-03-29T10:19:00.001-04:002010-03-29T10:20:29.918-04:00

  Soaked to the bone after loading groceries in a downpour, I sat in the drivers seat and burst into tears. Any other night I might have felt conspicuous sitting in parking lot crying and yelling at God, but tonight under the wet blanket of stormy darkness I felt invisible...to all. Freezing and tired, I decided I could wrestle with God on the drive, so off I went. Oh how the rain was pouring

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-69154845695199071122009-12-22T14:16:00.002-05:002009-12-22T14:49:57.228-05:00

There are boxes everywhere. Some labeled and sealed, others half-packed and yet others opened and rifled through.My suitcases sit half unpacked at the foot of our bed. I have no where to put the stuff away...as everything else I own seems to be in a box.We are staring down the barrel of cancer as we pray for my aunt. She battles daily the effects of chemo, infection, and cancer. Three thousand

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-83685278485825495282009-09-18T13:52:00.000-04:002009-09-18T13:51:29.456-04:00

There I stood -- shirt cut low, pants that hung perfectly to show off my curves and hide the parts of my legs I didn't like, make up just right, hair in place, lollipop hanging out of my mouth. I was dressed to get attention and I would do anything to get it.So insecure and lost that finding "love" and security in feeling wanted by a man, I was obsessed with pursing those feelings. I drank,

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-65771976326836271852009-09-17T11:08:00.007-04:002009-09-17T11:42:17.074-04:00

I was so tired and sore, but as I walked up the stairs behind her I could barely contain myexcitement. I stood motionless in the hallway as she opened her bedroom door.As her family and friends began to sing "Happy Birthday" Isabel ran int my arms. I carried her into her room. My heart still pounding, my eyes filled with tears and the butterflies banging around in my belly were nearly the size of

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-49656663564768588762009-09-11T09:36:00.004-04:002009-09-11T10:34:19.856-04:00

As the beer began to flow the stories started.My memories of September 11 were painted by television footage, radio interviews and painful memories of loss and anger. But as I sat at a bar a few blocks from the footprint of the World Trade Center I heard things that no man should know or remember. Stories of seas of shoes, the anger that was borne over recovery efforts, bucket lines, paper, smoke

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-62075578849790752112009-09-10T15:28:00.003-04:002009-09-10T15:39:19.174-04:00

As Isabel was coloring her Bible lessons worksheet today she began to sing. The words of her song touched my heart..."God keep talking to me,Because I love you,I'm listening..."Oh my!Yesterday was day one of 99. I'm chasing 99.What?I saw a link on Facebook yesterday to Chasing 99. Read through the Bible in 99 days -- they have a schedule laid out and talk about the time commitments (also have

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-46462145049610690512009-09-08T09:20:00.007-04:002009-09-08T09:53:52.387-04:00

I love to take pictures; to capture a moment or a glimpse of hidden beauty. I see much of life through the lens and even when I don't have the camera to my eye I often see snapshots that would have been click worthy.Sunday afternoon I took a walk with God and my camera. As I wandered the fields and woods around our family's mountain home I asked God to open my eyes. Father, I prayed, open my eyes

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-55373039345083443242009-09-01T09:45:00.004-04:002009-09-01T10:11:25.454-04:00

Faces turned heavenward, arms spread reaching for the hands of the Father, music just a shadow of the voices in praise...worship. Often on Sunday mornings I listen to the voices fill the auditorium and imagine that God is looking down. He kisses the foreheads of His children tipping their heads back for a glimpse of His face. With the strong and gentle hands of a Father He reaches down to grab

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-3402896863609821762009-08-25T09:44:00.004-04:002009-08-25T10:28:11.136-04:00

From my end table it beckons, "How to Get More Out of Life" the magazine cover shouts. And as though that's not enticing enough the sub-title not only promises more it wants to deliver everything - "Simple steps to good lovin', rock-solid confidence, the perfect outfit, more time for you, and everything else you really want".I am happy to say I didn't buy the magazine (it was given to me in a

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-63972673549675079022009-08-20T10:06:00.005-04:002009-08-20T10:47:04.447-04:00

She seems to be everywhere the past three weeks. The subject in conference sessions, Bible study lessons, even a random show I caught on late night tv. Martha is everywhere! No, not Martha Stewart, but the first the homemaking, hostess to get our attention...Martha of Bethany.Do you know her story? I'm sure you've heard snippets, even if you don't know her by name.She's the gal that had a

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-62468561444624360202009-08-19T08:48:00.000-04:002009-08-19T08:47:52.048-04:00

Someone asked me recently, "What would you want them to know?"We were discussing the two children I placed for adoption in my early twenties. "That I love them," was my immediate response.With a nod she said, "Of course they'll know that. Just by your sacrifice. They'll know that."That answer should have given me a warm fuzzy feeling. After all that's what marks the experience of a birthmother,

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-35531325469404266672009-08-15T20:05:00.008-04:002009-08-17T10:39:37.797-04:00

One of the highlights of being at She Speaks was listening to all the different ministry ideas. I don't know about you, but I love...LOVE...watching God at work. Especially when He uses our time, talents and passions to change lives. And as I was basking in the post-conference-mountain-top high I began to wonder how we could all see how God is moving.Thus started Got Ministry? Mondays! Woohoo! I

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-60622240317680008512009-08-12T10:16:00.003-04:002009-08-12T10:44:11.732-04:00

Over the past few months I have had the honor of praying Buddy. Buddy is the brother-in-law of my dear friend Lee. Buddy lost his battle with cancer yesterday. And though I never saw his face or shook his hand, I cried...a lot.I began to wonder how I could feel such pain and loss for a man I'd never met. And as the day unfolded God began to show me what Buddy had done in me and how he had shown

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-21160606623672452362009-08-10T09:46:00.002-04:002009-08-10T10:08:53.636-04:00

You knew them. Everyone knew them. The girls with the perfect clothes and hair that never caused a morning meltdown as she tried to tame it. The cool boys who laughed with the teachers, led other students on the field or in the halls. The cool kids. The "in" crowd.Whatever you call them, every school had them. And, oh how I wanted to be them. I spent so much time drooling over and dreaming of

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-21693507973902593502009-08-07T08:14:00.003-04:002009-08-07T08:41:28.920-04:00

Had a long week? Laugh it off. Enjoy a good belly laugh on me...or in this case at me.I knew I was taking a chance, but I was too tired to really care. I picked my path carefully through the cool, wet grass. I hadn't "scooped" the back yard today so there were all sorts of land mines hidden in the darkness. If I could just walk him to the other side of the yard the puppy would "go" and I could go

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-49027289152925506032009-08-06T08:21:00.004-04:002009-08-06T08:46:57.339-04:00

Standing at the top of the stairs she was a sight to behold. She had dressed up, not leaving any detail (or square inch) uncovered: plastic yellow high heels; two skirts - a long hot pink one under a short frilly blue one; her sparkly princess t-shirt under a shiny pink tube top looking thing; feather boa; silver jeweled crown and pink fuzzy ski hat."Mom, I'm dressed as a princess. I'm going to

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-25346772873171782542009-08-05T08:09:00.004-04:002009-08-05T09:17:59.055-04:00

Last year God met me in a hotel in North Carolina, not to teach me of ministry or speaking, but to heal my heart. He used the work of others and some of His gentle daughters to touch my heart and to begin lifting me out of the well of Postpartum Depression.When I returned home after last year's conference the dark clouds that had hung over my head and heart for a year (almost) were gone. I

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-50185220673728576502009-08-04T08:25:00.004-04:002009-08-10T14:58:05.591-04:00

I opened my hotel room door, ready to dart over to the elevator. Sure that I could sneak down to grab some breakfast at the buffet in the hotel and then return to the room to get ready for the opening day of the conference. As the door clicked shut behind me a tall, lovely woman began waving at me from the elevator."Oh man!" was all I could think. As I walked closer she came to introduce herself,

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-6443348005277177332009-08-03T08:37:00.005-04:002009-08-03T09:13:32.631-04:00

"In 100 yards, turn left. Then make an immediate left. And make an immediate left."Um? I couldn't have heard that right."In 100 yards, turn left. Then make an immediate left. And make an immediate left," she said again.What? The calm, computerized voice of my GPS was asking me to turn around. Seriously? In a moment of panic (what exit is it??) I flipped the GPS on to show me the way home from

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-13869804516937214242009-07-31T22:53:00.004-04:002009-07-31T23:15:53.455-04:00

The sun is beating down on the car. I'm thankful for the AC that is taking the edge off, but I feel the heat on my arms and hands. Summer in the south, huh? 92 degrees, according to my car.And as I am drinking in the clouds and marveling at the beauty that is the Virginia countryside, it starts raining. There are no dark clouds. No rain clouds. The sun is shining and it is raining. Sun showers,

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-27925277911213988922009-07-29T23:02:00.002-04:002009-07-29T23:20:33.449-04:00

I've packed and repacked. Tried on every outfit and vetoed a few...only to repack them. I've worried that my yellow tablet of paper isn't cute enough. I don't have stylish pens. Oh I've even painted my toenails, for goodness sake.For what? To impress the women at She Speaks. Ugh.And it dawned on me as I went over my checklist of things to be packed that I'm so caught up in the who's and the

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-21836278775517393632009-07-23T14:34:00.004-04:002009-07-27T21:05:08.333-04:00

Don't you just love it when something leaps off the screen or the page at you? Or rings so loudly in your ears that that is all you can hear? An answer or a prompt from Heaven that you can't ignore.For those of you that don't know, I am going to the She Speaks conference in a couple of days (click the button on the right for more info -- incredible experience for women in several ministries --

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-45732353273004020542009-07-22T15:50:00.003-04:002009-07-22T16:40:08.399-04:00

I was weeding the front flower beds the other night and listening to two young girls play up the street. Most days you see these two palling around and just doing life together. But this must have been one of their off days. They were arguing.At first it was, "I don't want to play with you either." Then it was, "Well you can't come to my birthday part and we're having a moonbounce." And so it

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-4965117311981714502009-07-19T22:20:00.003-04:002009-07-22T16:40:53.287-04:00

God thinks I am beautiful. Great!I weigh 200 pounds and I'm 5'2" -- I'm terribly out of shape, I can't stand the look of my own body and I am so enslaved to food that I binge eat and suffer the health and emotional (read guilt) consequences.I do have to learn that whatever my weight, I'm beautiful to my Maker because of who He made me, not what I choose to live like.There's the kicker.What I

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-26322405758263654072009-07-17T02:22:00.004-04:002009-07-17T02:46:22.097-04:00

I was on a mission this afternoon to find a Max Lucado quote to build another blog post around. I had the topic and when I heard this quote again today I thought, "Bingo! That's where I need to start." So off I went to surf the net and find the exact wording.And then God gave me something else. I love when He does that. I will get back to our discussions of weight, self-image, beauty and so much

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-48202857732557995402009-07-15T08:12:00.003-04:002009-07-15T08:43:08.383-04:00

When I wrote my last post, I was venting my feelings and truly thought no one would relate. Wow, I couldn't have been more off the mark. The Facebook comments I received first thing started opening my eyes -- we women all tend to buy into Satan's lies about our bodies and our looks. Look at a magazine, turn on the TV, check out the big screen and it is not hard to see where we get our

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-7550078788189877402009-07-13T20:48:00.003-04:002009-07-13T21:26:22.436-04:00

I hate the way I look. Can I just share that with you right now?We just got back from a vacation at the beach and I have been going through the photos. I just cherish the moments we freeze to look back on, and I cherish the ones that I'm not in even more.We're not talking a feature here or there that I am unhappy with. I'm talking don't like to look at the photos for the harsh reality of what I

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-21857851681660300872009-07-01T20:43:00.003-04:002009-07-01T21:02:27.376-04:00

In the midst of folding laundry and thinking of the other items on my to do list I heard it. It was too quiet. Uh-oh, I thought, that can only mean trouble. I tip-toed into my son's room where our two little ones were playing. They were in the closet emptying the boxes of clothing put away until another season or size is upon us. That wasn't so bad, but when I found that they had already emptied

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-56502319549462634322009-06-24T21:37:00.003-04:002009-06-24T22:03:57.268-04:00

I read an adorable book to my daughter this afternoon -- Take a Kiss to School by Mary McAllister. When young Digby, the mole, gets scared about being at school and not having his mommy with him, his mom blows kisses into her cupped hands and fills up the pocket of his jacket with them. Then throughout the day he can grab one and press it to his cheek to feel more confident and secure. When

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-65512961462646164062009-06-22T22:41:00.003-04:002009-06-22T23:15:29.097-04:00

I love to people watch. Always have. There is something intriguing about watching people go about their normal day, especially when they pay not attention to you. Perhaps that is why reality became such a big hit -- I'm not the only one that likes to people watch.For the last few years, however, my people watching has taken on a new shape or at least a new thought process.I watch......as she

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-88284684928610520492009-06-18T21:30:00.004-04:002009-06-18T21:58:10.316-04:00

What a privilege I had today. I got to attend a new Bible study. What lovely women graced the room. It was so easy to see the beauty God weaves into the tapestry of our lives as I looked around the room -- the ages, experiences, the love for our Savior. We're barely out of the gate and I'm already praising God for this group!When I came home today I went back and read the beginning of the

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-9888893656369060512009-06-11T21:51:00.003-04:002009-06-22T23:16:24.906-04:00

Okay, so this week it has rained and been steamy hot and sunny off and on. And you know what really likes that kind of weather?Weeds.I have had to do very little gardening this year and when I went out to check the need for watering this evening I was shocked to see the jungle that is sprouting around my little garden plot in the backyard. Oh man! Guess I know what I am doing tomorrow, huh?If

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-72580018463952175822009-05-20T22:57:00.003-04:002009-06-22T23:17:07.796-04:00

In the last couple of weeks something has come over me...I want to clean. (Yes, I'll come over to your place...leave your name, address and hourly rate on my comments!! He, he.) I mean seriously clean -- on my hands and knees scrubbing floors, washing baseboards, pressure washing my front porch and more. And you know what I'm finding...my house is filthy!!Standing in my living room if you glance

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-52680184991019177782009-05-18T01:51:00.003-04:002009-06-18T21:30:02.405-04:00

After a few weeks of being away from my family, I have changed. While I won't go into details today about all that I did and dealt with while I was gone I can tell you that God used those days to draw me closer to Him and to remind me of the woman I want to be.I want to be that woman.That woman might be different for you, but let me tell you what she looks like to me. She is bright, witty,

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-15168130773601575012009-03-27T22:32:00.001-04:002009-03-27T22:34:10.222-04:00

Friends, I'll be back and probably have a lot to write. However this weekend I am focusing on my family and preparing to travel to help with a family situation. I'll be back in a month or so. Your prayers are greatly appreciated.

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-47882095124599453062009-03-24T19:03:00.002-04:002009-03-24T19:54:53.463-04:00

I had the pleasure to hear Micca Campbell speak last year at She Speaks; her sense of humor and palpable faith drew you in like a good friend or a warm cup of coffee. You wanted more, to her more, to laugh more, to learn more. Little did I know at the time that God would bring me to the bloggy world (something I had NO interest in) and then bring me to a study with wonderful ladies whom I've

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-30427736715572398232009-03-21T23:19:00.004-04:002009-06-22T23:18:36.125-04:00

Oh my! I'm still sniffling from crying and it has been almost half an hour since it ended. Whew! I can tell that this show will become something we watch every week and it will becomw my weekly tear-fest. And it is so worth it ya'll.Okay, Wendy, what's the show? I hear ya...I'm getting there, stick with me for a minute.This ad popped up on the side of the new and "improved" Facebook the other day

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-11216395599489494252009-03-19T10:26:00.004-04:002009-03-22T01:05:13.602-04:00

Sixty years! Sixty years! That's a very long time. That's how long my grandparents have been married today. 60 YEARS!! At the risk of sounding a little condescending let me tell you, I am proud of them. It is my honor to celebrate their union today and in a few short weeks we'll be in Oregon to celebrate with them!Imagine.21,900 nightly dinners60 Christmases, tax seasons, valentine's daystwo

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-50744044269918529322009-03-18T10:52:00.004-04:002009-06-22T23:19:50.673-04:00

So how are you feeling? How does your "wardrobe" measure up to what we've been learning? You know one of the awesome things about God? He will help you, all you have to do is ask. So regardless of how you have been doing you can always ask for His help and watch how things turn around. Isn't that great?Well, let's continue...gentlenessShort definition for this one -- fairness, moderation; mild,

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-66734946108818491742009-03-17T14:02:00.004-04:002009-06-22T23:20:51.430-04:00

I was visiting Rachel Olsen's blog the other day and she had a post "Fashion Q&Z with an Expert". It was a great exchange and it was lovely reading all the advice and all the various experiences/dilemmas women have. And wonders of all wonders I won a copy of the expert's book (If Clothes Could Talk by Shari Braendal) by leaving a comment! Me! I won! I never win anything (or at least it feels that

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-74418479524737498542009-03-16T13:46:00.003-04:002009-03-22T01:02:40.308-04:00

For months I have been struggling. Struggling to listen to God, to put down my anger and hurt, to put forgive. Oh the struggle has been painful and long. My heart was burdened, carrying tears just below the surface so that whenever that broken relationship was mentioned I crumbled. Tears brought on anger, anger brought on regret and regret brought on tears. Hmmm...can you say vicious cycle?

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-24094664036746439562009-03-13T12:50:00.001-04:002009-03-22T01:01:45.381-04:00

I was just reading Nicki's blog about those moments when God reaches out to you. When you know the words from the song, sermon, etc. were designed to speak right to your heart. If you are willing to share, please visit Three Girly Girls and tell Nicki about it or feel free to leave it here -- there seem to be so many hurting these days and how lovely is it to receive encouragement that God is

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-78076570030133100592009-03-12T15:19:00.002-04:002009-03-22T01:01:12.918-04:00

A few months back my dad brought me a book to borrow and said, "You'll like this one." I set it next to my bed and there it sat for quite awhile. I had other books that had grabbed my interest and that could wait. Eventually I picked up the book so that I could tell my dad I had read it. No interest in it at all, until I read the first couple of pages.At Home In Mitford by Jan Karon is a

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-50356044707654244782009-03-09T00:28:00.012-04:002009-03-22T01:00:40.966-04:00

God has blessed us with a taste of spring this weekend. The birds are singing. The sky is an extra special shade of blue. The neighborhood has suddenly come a live. Cars are getting a bath. The kids are playing the cul-de-sac. The windows are open. And I'm breathing in the full promise of new life and growth around the corner.Friends, God is so good. (Can I get an Amen?) How many of us love the

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-34273519995787758502009-03-06T10:09:00.001-05:002009-03-22T01:00:09.062-04:00

If we are going to talk about the joy in the journey of life I think we should start today! I am not a morning person, at all, and as I sit and write this my eyes are still puffy from sleep and my head is trying to clear out the fog that set in over night. Time for a little injection of joy to get the day off on the right foot...what do you say?I'll start a list today -- we'll continue it later,

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5472483318195749810.post-66349510368518072562009-03-05T23:03:00.003-05:002009-03-22T00:59:39.886-04:00

So, I'm back.Yep, I'm back writing a blog. When I stopped writing a while back I didn't think I had the time or the inclination to write everyday. But the truth is I've missed it. On top of that, God seems to be opening some doors for me and they all have writing in common...guess I need to keep the juices flowing.When I enrolled in college at 18 I wanted to be a writer. Write the great American

Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10304709468883789926noreply@blogger.com1