By His Grace I Can.

The other day my cute, explorative 7 year old mentioned that one of our "wild flowers" was growing burrs. I kind of shrugged it aside, thinking that I had already pulled the burr-producing plants on our hillside.  The next night when I came out to water, he insisted on showing me. Sure enough, the stem he pointed to had DOZENS of little velcro-like green burrs, sticking to  almost anything they touched. Apparently they are Velvet Stickweed.  Velvet or not, they were getting the boot. The last few days we’ve pulled one after the next. Many of them are 2 or 3 feet tall! They’ve been under our noses the whole time, but we hadn’t recognized them for what they were or how pervasively they’d propagate. Thanks to some great help from my kids, as of this morning they’ve all been identified and pulled. Enough to fill up TWO big garbage bags. Thank heavens we got them out before all of those burrs fell and reseeded themselves. (I’ll admit, I felt a little foolish having

  Years ago, while preparing for a natural birth with our first daughter, my Nother Mother mentioned relaxing and submitting to the process--that my body would know what to do.  Even tension and tightness in my jaw would hinder my progress while laboring. Several times I've felt impressed that this part of my journey is like  transition during child birth.   It's the discomfort, pain and rigor that make way for new life. BUT fighting it only delays it. Have I mentioned that I've resisted EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization Reprocessing)?  I'm quite proficient in analyzing situations cognitively, but seem to avoid FEELING my way through them. The last few times I've gone to therapy I've prayed and asked that I will allow myself to feel and learn what I need to, instead of resisting it. On Friday, my therapist asked a question to guide me to where my work needed to be for the session.  The memory that came to mind felt like the tip of the iceberg for underlying sha

About a year ago, one of my sisters was in town visiting for a few days.  I had finished lunch with the kids and had been down in my craft room for a few minutes, working with my sister to photograph items for her Etsy shop... when I heard a  serious cry of pain from my third child. He is a sensitive little guy and tends to cry easily and frequently,  but I knew something was definitely wrong.  I dashed up the stairs.   As I rounded the banister I see my son kneeling on the floor, blood dripping from his face and a puddle of blood on the carpet.    Unlike my other sister who was an ICU nurse for years, I get queasy over the smallest little injuries, even paper cuts.  If I could I'd always leave the injuries to another adult to field.   In any case, I knew that I needed to be as calm as possible to figure out what was going on.   And though I was somewhat composed I was still very panicky.   My daughters, who had apparently been with him, weren't saying anything which was addi

With the worldwide pandemic in swing, I have really struggled with whether or not I'm going to send my kids back to school.   Sometimes when things feel especially overwhelming, my reflex is to pretend them away ,  or perpetually procrastinate  and postpone the decision.   But you can only put things off for so long. A few weeks ago I finally prayed,  "Heavenly Father, you know that I'm afraid of this, you know I don't want to think about it, please just help me to have an open mind and a soft heart so I can know what would be best." One quiet little thought came... Consider each child and their unique situation.   I let that thought simmer for awhile, but my prayer continued, as did my pondering.   I thought of the hymn, "Lead, Kindly Light". "Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene--one step enough for me." Previously, it felt as if I had a been given one small step,  but again was in darkness.   Last weekend