If You See a New Bald Spot...

I have to hand it to Apple. They’ve really spoon-fed me for years. I've had my own website for about 6 years now. And not the “Here are all our family photos for the 3 people on the planet who might be remotely interested in seeing them” website. Rather, this site was built for public consumption! Christianbedtimestories.com was built on the premise that parents need great stories to read to their children, that our society needs to return to the simple every now and then, and that children should be given the opportunity to return to childhood if even for 5 minutes at a time.

Well whadya know, my Mac just happened to have a wonderful program called iWeb, where you just type everything onto a fantastic template, drag some stuff over here, and drop in a picture over there. You hit the magical “publish” button and *poof* just like the magic in my stories, all sorts of great

Of Facebook and Potatoes

Sometimes Facebook makes me crazy. Like today. I have a friend who confided in me the problems they were having in their marriage. And then they followed that up with an updated status picture of the four-person-happy-family.  The one where it looks like everyone is in love with each other, and where no one is neglected or lonely or certifiably insane.  Ironically, I have several friends going through this, and yet, you'd never know it from the beautiful lives they seem to have.

Another friend is going through an earth-shattering financial crisis. And another through divorce. One suspects her husband is cheating. One has problems with her children. (Don't we all?) But you'd never know it based on the profiles they have.  It begs the question, "why?". Why do we put up that curtain of happiness, whilst closets full of skeletons are hiding just beyond?

Is it because on Facebook, we have so many "levels" of friends? There are acquaintances, friends,

This is all you get...

Recently I sat in a meeting with my boss. Every year at work we have to fill out a performance review – first we state how much we love (or don’t) our jobs, then we state what we think we are good at and what we feel we need to improve on, and then we have to make a “to-do” list to get ourselves on track for where the company feels we need to be.

The discussion of the hour was around my evaluation of how much I loved my job. On a scale of 1 to 5, I had given it a 2. For various reasons, but mostly because I’d been doing it for 12 years and

The road not taken...

My favorite poem of all time is Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken. Perhaps because my own life has had so many twists and turns. Perhaps because I now weigh every difficult decision (and some not-so-difficult ones as well) with what I think God would have me do. But most often it's because I don't want to relive any mistakes over. And over. And over. Not that I've done that in the past. But life's paths are so numerous - the choices almost limitless.

Sometimes I take the path of adventure, where I would have in the past been a wallflower; for all of life to me now is a bone of which the marrow of life must be sucked dry. Sometimes I take the path of cautiousness. Sometimes I wear my heart on my sleeve, or make new friends where before I would have been happy with a single friend for all of life. I see them now as wildflowers for my friend bouquet. Each one unique, and special, and adding color and variety to the bunch as a whole.

But I have to wonder about old Robert. You see, Robert spends a great amount of time looking forward. Inspecting the path, I suspect weighing the pros and cons of

Give your gift away

Once upon a time (thirty-five years ago) in a land far, far away (Arkansas), a brand new baby girl was brought into the world. Not with a silver spoon mind you, but she did come with a mop of curly strawberry-blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and more “look out world” attitude than one could ever imagine.

Unbeknownst to her, she also came with an assortment of wrapped gifts that would in fact be unwrapped little by little as life itself unfurled. She walked through life, invisible tote full of gifts slung over her shoulder. As she removed each one to give it away, she would find out more about herself in the process, and in fact, receive so much more in return than what she gave.

The first gift to give away would be companionship. The little girl was to be a companion for a woman who had known very little unconditional love and companionship in her life. Through circumstances beyond her control, the little girl would grow up with her disabled grandmother as primary caregiver. In exchange for giving the gift of her time and companionship, the little girl would have an upbringing quite different than her friends. Where her friends were watching Goonies and Molly Ringwald, the little girl would grow to love showtunes, black and white movies, Shirley Temple and Fred Astaire, and inform you that Audrey Hepburn and Katharine Hepburn are neither the same person, nor are they sisters, cousins, or mother and daughter.

The next gift the little girl would discover she had was a love for reading and writing. She would get lost in fairy

The Book About God

I don't remember when I first heard the verses. Four years ago? Five? But I remember when I heard it that it spoke volumes to me. Deuteronomy 6:4-9 ESV “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. (5) You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. (6) And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. (7) You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. (8) You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. (9) You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and

Eureka Moments...

So often, I am consumed with whys and whens. Why this, why that, why doesn't God help me with this, or when is God going to reveal that? More often than not, it's related to life in general, my career, what I should be doing or not doing, or if I'm on the right path. I've written about why God doesn't just give us a GPS showing us the way to go just like my Garmin does...with a little checkered flag at the end of our journey that says "You will arrive here in 2 hrs 47 minutes, making this left turn, that right turn, and a straightaway path for 10 miles". And then this week, I had a "Eureka Moment". Literally, just like you see in the cartoons - just about knocked me over.

You know the story in Genesis 22, right? Abraham and Isaac had just set out for Moriah, Abraham having been assigned the task of sacrificing his son as a test of his faith. Certainly, the weight of the task ahead of Abraham laid heavy on his heart. Abraham had cut wood for the offering, and he himself carried the fire up the mountain while Isaac carried the wood and his servants looked on. It was verse 7 that caught my eye.

7-8: Isaac spoke up and said to his father Abraham, "Father?"

Yes, my son?" Abraham replied.

"The fire and the wood are here," Isaac said, "but where is the Lamb for the burnt offering?"

Abraham answered "God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son." And the two of them went on together.

Now I have read that passage before, but never has it been revealed to me quite in this way. You see, God couldn't have shown Abraham what His plans were - He couldn't have given Abraham the GPS version of what would occur. Why not, pray tell?

The Pitter Patter of Little Feet...

Fall at our home always means the pitter patter of little feet. I heard them this past Monday, at exactly 5:18 am. This is not the sound of people feet mind you, but different little feet. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard, or Chinese water torture. Little tiny mouse teeth chewing through my walls. I don’t know if my house has an invisible 3 inch tall “come on in, you’ll LOVE it here” sign in front of it or what, but they always come with the first frost of the season. Last Fall I had 6 of them – just when I thought I got the last one, out popped another one, leaving their droppings on my pantry floor and across every shelf, and taking a nibble out of every single thing that didn’t come housed in an aluminum can. I suppose it comes with the territory of living in the country, but it’s still unnerving to think of these little rodents bringing their germs and potential illnesses into the house. Instead of imagining my beautiful children asleep in their beds, I envision little mice running across their bedding, spreading illness to their granola bars, and leaving mouse droppings in the Frosted Flakes box.  

Are We There Yet?

If you have children, or were ever a child at some point in your life, you’ve heard it before. It could be twenty minutes in, or five hours in, but somewhere between your starting point and your destination, a slightly whiny yet somewhat hopeful voice emits from behind your right ear “Are we there yet?”. Depending on your mood and the number of times you’ve already heard it, your response could vary from “No, sweetie, not yet” to a low growl. My kids are 4. They've already been on several multi-state car trips, and we also live about 30 minutes from "town". They're used to the car, most definitely. You would think as many times as we drive to town, they would realize you have to pass this white house, then that gas station, then this store before we get to town. Nevertheless, the pestering begins before we leave the driveway. They don't mean to get on my nerves, all they know is that in their frame of time reference they have been in the car, waiting, a very long time.

Did you ever think that sometimes, we are just like our children in the backseat? No? Sure we are. We make a small request of God, usually in prayer from, and then we start

*SHE* goes to church?

Note: Names may be changed to protect the innocent.

So the other day, dear hubby and I happen upon an event at a neighboring church.  We walk in, fully intent on leaving our precious children in the care of the nursery.  Let me say that I've been told I do not have a good poker face, so I'm pretty sure the "I'm so clueless" face was working it at that moment in time.  Next thing we know, we're being ushered in by Madame X, who says hello and follows with "Oh, I recognize your kids from such-and-such, where our kids used to go together.  Yours will be right down the hall."  And she points us off in the right direction.   Good thing, as walking away gave me time to pick my jaw up off the floor.  She goes to church?  You're kidding.  This woman not only never says a civil word while our children are in the same activity, she never

God loveth a waffler

“God loveth a waffler”.  I think that verse is just before “God loveth a cheerful giver”.

Admit it, you know who you are.  If you’re like me, daily, sometimes hourly, you are conversing with the Lord, “Okay Lord, would you like me to make this major life decision, or this one over here?”  And then I wait.  And wait.  Maybe if I look up towards heaven, God will know that I REALLY need an answer on this one.  And then it comes back to me: silence.  Hmmm.  Maybe he’s still thinking about his answer.  I continue. “In the meantime, let me ask you this other life-altering, major-decision-requiring question...”  “Lord?  Yoo hoo?”

“Okay, well if I don’t hear from you, I’m going to go ahead and take the step I think you want me to take, okay, Lord?”  And then the next decision comes:  “Lord, should I expand the house I’m in, buy a larger