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Like many people, I’ve been getting little sleep these days, pondering the troubles plaguing the world.
Amidst tumultuous times, finding a way to rest a while is imperative — for mental health, for the strength to care for one’s family.Author: Julianne Nornberg
Seeking detachment from the way things were
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My daughter’s yearbook arrived the other day.
Brimming with colorful photos of smiling students and teachers at various gatherings, it filled me with not only the nostalgia that always accompanies the end of the school year but with a yearning for the way things used to be, before masks and social distancing.
Trusting in Our Father’s promises during uncertain times
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“I don’t like Brussels sprouts,” complained my son one night at supper long ago.
“If you finish your Brussels sprouts, I’ll give you a noogie,” said Daddy, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“What’s a noogie?”
“If you finish your Brussels sprouts, then you’ll find out.”Lenten quarantine: on fasting and gratitude
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Sometimes God must drive us to our knees before we look up to Him, helpless as small children.
It was several days since the worldwide coronavirus pandemic had been announced.
Schools had closed and we were dutifully isolating our whole family in our home.
Dealing with fear
Slowly fear crept in for our vulnerable loved ones as we read about the daily news of the spreading virus.Focusing on forgiveness this Lent
“Say ‘I’m sorry,’” I remember telling my children when they were toddlers squabbling over toys.
“I’m sorry,” parroted the perpetrator, who sometimes had to repeat it a few times before exhibiting the requisite tone of remorse.
“Now say ‘I forgive you,’” I would tell the victim, who also parroted the phrase without completely understanding its meaning.
For years we have done this in our household, trying to explain to the children the importance of forgiveness. And yet, I myself was an adult before I understood its full meaning.
Trusting Our Father to give us what we need, not what we want
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Often what we want is different from what we need — or what is good for us.
Consider this recent exchange in my household, where we’ve been striving to be more health conscious.
“What would you like me to get at the grocery store?” I asked my husband, my pencil hovering over the grocery list.
Brighten your own island by the virtue of kindness
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During my childhood, my family spent many summer days on a mile-long island on a lake in southeastern Wisconsin.
Boating, sailing, canoeing, fishing, waterskiing, tubing, and swimming were part of everyday life there. Knot tying, outdoor cooking, handling boats, hauling gear, reading the weather — all of these were a part of learning the value of hard work and gaining a deep appreciation of nature.
Memories
Among my many memories of the island there was someone who loved everyone on it.
This Advent seek God’s will, not your own
Today my daughter was searching our house for a recorder, an instrument for her school music class.
Over the years we have acquired a couple of recorders, but, used by different children at various times for school, their whereabouts are not always known. (Yes, unfortunately things do get lost in our house sometimes.)
“Should we write a note to the teacher, saying we have a recorder, but we just don’t know where it is?” my daughter asked.
“No, we’ll find it,” I said, pulling open and peering into desk drawers in our home office. “Go look in your brother’s cubby.”
This Advent seek God’s will, not your own
Today my daughter was searching our house for a recorder, an instrument for her school music class.
Over the years we have acquired a couple of recorders, but, used by different children at various times for school, their whereabouts are not always known. (Yes, unfortunately things do get lost in our house sometimes.)
“Should we write a note to the teacher, saying we have a recorder, but we just don’t know where it is?” my daughter asked.
“No, we’ll find it,” I said, pulling open and peering into desk drawers in our home office. “Go look in your brother’s cubby.”
Hold onto Christ’s truth in dark days
My son made an announcement at supper the other night.
“So, I told my class that Dad is super good with math and physics and all that, but when somebody asked him to spell ‘cookie,’ he said ‘c-o-o-c-k-y.'”
Daddy’s fork stopped in midair.
“You told your whole class that?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.