• Sending a promise to Bonnie Joy, with love

    It began as an ordinary day. There were errands to run, chores to complete, exercise to accomplish. Writing awaited and there was a funeral to attend. Oh ... and there was the newly minted pink streak painted in my hair. I wanted to show my friends what my hairdresser had cajoled me into doing, with the promise I’d be “gorgeous.” My mind raced to arrange a priority list. When all had been checked off, I’d know a sense of fulfillment. Life would be worthwhile.

  • ‘The Art of Pausing’ leaves time for reflection

    Interestingly, I belong to Poetry Revisited, a group of poets who have recently acquired a taste for haiku as part of their repertoire. When confronted with the challenge to write in this style, I balked. Too few words, I mused, were used to present complicated ideas. Not surprisingly, challenges whet my appetite. Computer keys at the ready, I began sharpening my skill, trying hard to believe that less is more. Serendipitously, “The Art of Pausing” arrived for my perusal and review. It gave new meaning to my efforts.

  • The four-way test is based on Rotary values

    Papers in hand, questions in mind, Hubby Dear and I drove to our local insurance agency to verify the contents of our policy, hoping to reduce the cost while maintaining adequate coverage. In his usual manner, H.D. engaged the agent — who, fortunately, is also a friend — in conversation. One area melded into another and yet another until he happened upon involvement with the Rotary Club, an area with which he was not experienced.

  • Gospel preaching must be authentic or it is powerless
  • When praying is a way of living, living is a prayer

    Hospital chaplains, preachers, pastors, religious leaders, even civic leaders, caregivers and so many others receive requests for prayers or offer them during visits and before meetings, as invocations that hope to form a focus. Many people use devotionals in the morning and evening. Muslims have specific calls to prayer during the day. We’ve all heard the bedtime plea, “Now, I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”

  • With a conch shell to our ears, we listen to a higher calling

    It was a steamy Saturday evening. I was tired and less than eager to wend my way to church. Yet, the thought of missing the opportunity to worship outweighed my fatigue. Taking hold of myself, Hubby Dear and I were on our way.

  • Lee Daniels’ ‘The Butler’ is a parable of redemptive suffering

    From the opening line, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can,” I was riveted by the cinematic story unfolding before me, Lee Daniels’ ‘The Butler.’ I had read that it was inspired by the real-life account of Eugene Allen who worked for the White House for 34 years until his retirement as head butler in 1986. Knowing that Hubby Dear is especially interested in movies based on historical figures and events, I suggested a Saturday morning date. It proved to be a tearfully beautiful experience.

  • The signs are all around us

    It was a typical Wednesday morning. I arose early enough for final preparation to facilitate my weekly Bible study. With a breezy fare-thee-well to Hubby Dear, I got into my car and drove merrily away...until I noticed a warning light brighten the dashboard.
    “Uh, oh,” fluttered my heart. What could the matter be? Slowly, it registered. Tire pressure is low. Thankfully, I pass a trusty car repair and sales spot on my route to church. It became my new destination.

  • Pouring out perseverance is the name of the game

    I often mention to Hubby Dear that he spells his last name with the “P” from procrastination. He is not devoid of perseverance, but avoidance plagues him. There are so many pleasurable things to do and so little time. There are books to read on his Kindle, people to visit along the way, gardens to tend, profound thoughts to ponder ... all important and fun. There are miles to go before he sleeps, but some of the promises he means to keep are shelved for a tomorrow that lags in coming.

  • The power of presence

    I read an article in Readers Digest (April 2013 issue) featuring Rachel Macy Stafford, a teacher who ran. It was not a story about a marathon runner or a track star. It featured a woman who learned a life lesson in the aftermath of a race to catch a recalcitrant student, one who had long been identified as a loser.