Admittedly, I’m a dinosaur when it comes to technology.
Give me a keyboard and Microsoft Word and I can function, but “technologically savvy” I am definitely not.
I am also not good with directions, which is why my husband gave me a Global Positioning System (GPS) many years ago, to help me get to where I needed to be.
In a classroom recently, I told the following true story to a few young children.
“A long time ago, my husband and I were roasting marshmallows over a campfire with some friends,” I said, my eyes wide as I told the story.
“Our friend’s marshmallow caught on fire, and instead of blowing it out, he waved his stick back and forth quickly, trying to put the fire out,” I said, waving my hands dramatically to illustrate our friend’s actions. “But the burning marshmallow flew off the stick and landed as a mound of flaming goo onto my husband’s leg!”
“So, what’s in this room?” a friend asked once, when she was visiting us long ago.
She opened the door to our very cluttered “junk room,” saw the teetering piles of mail, unfinished projects, and general chaos, and laughed.
I looked and saw for the first time today a beautiful sunflower in the backyard garden.
There it was, standing tall, cheerful, sunny, unexpected.
I looked and saw for the first time today a beautiful sunflower in the backyard garden.
There it was, standing tall, cheerful, sunny, unexpected.
“Daddy’s home!” my 10-year-old son sang out as he heard the garage door open.
His siblings cheered and danced toward the door as it opened to reveal their very tired, but smiling, daddy after a hard day’s work.
“Give him time to rest,” I whispered into my son’s ear. He nodded but simply could not contain the excitement of sharing with his daddy the events of the day and what he still wanted to do.
In my not-so-distant past, four tired children hung on all sides of my overflowing shopping cart as the checkout line inched along.
Children’s laughter fills the air as dusk creeps gently over our backyard. Firelight flickers in the firepit, embers smoldering, perfect for roasting marshmallows.
Soft night sounds and fireflies spring up from the grass around us, and a cool breeze bathes our foreheads.
Truly this is a glimpse of heaven, I think, as I breathe out a deep sigh of contentment and thank God for the moment. What could be better than this?
I don’t spend a lot of time in front of the mirror. Usually a quick glance to comb my hair and brush my teeth before I dash out the door will do.
But today I actually looked and noticed evidence of growing older: gray hair.
Not that I hadn’t had any before, but this time it struck me how the gray clashed with how much of a child I still feel like I am.
Recently the sun shone gently on the slopes of the river bank as my four children ran alongside it, shouting and laughing at their stick boats they’d sent downriver.
“Here comes mine!” they shouted excitedly as their sticks bobbed over the ripples in the water.
