Everything is Meaningless. Nothing is Meaningless.

Everything is Meaningless. Nothing is Meaningless.

There is nothing new under the sun. Oh, Ecclesiastes, how I love you. Just. People. Go read it. And read it again. All streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full.  To the place the streams come from, there they return again.  All things are wearisome, more than one can say.  The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing.  What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new…

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You Can’t Lose What is in You

You Can’t Lose What is in You

I know you know this, but I am writing a novel. Big surprise: that’s what I”m writing about today. Once, at workshop in the West Virginia mountains, I heard Meredith Sue Willis say,  that whatever your novel is, you should know it will change, and that you will change, too. She also said that novels are made out of scenes, and then words. Both are true in this case. Over the past 12 years this novel has been a short story, a…

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Where to Begin

Where to Begin

Where to begin? A beginning. A starting over. Just fragments. Just brainstorms. Begin: to start, to come into being, to complete the first part of something. What if we are always beginning, and in that way, are never beginning? These are the kinds of things that roll through me this evening, when it is dark and quiet and a thunderstorm is coming softly. The fan in my room is circling its small space, affecting the whole room with soothing wind…

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How to Write Acrostic Poems with Your Kids

How to Write Acrostic Poems with Your Kids

An acrostic poem is the kind of poem that looks like this: Piecing words together On paper like this Emits a certain Memory Well, that’s just the first thing that came to mind. Do you get what it is now, though? Acrostic is not often used as high literature, but it is a fun way to help kids write poetry. We use The Good and the Beautiful language arts, level 2. It’s good. It’s beautiful. It’s free. It’s absolutely sufficient…

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Burnt Toast, Handwriting Lessons, and Drawing Close to Hope

Burnt Toast, Handwriting Lessons, and Drawing Close to Hope

Mornings are hard. I know I’ve written about this before. I’m not complaining (though, admittedly, I have complained about it in the past.) I’m simply stating it out of recognition. There is a difference between complaining and recognizing. Complaining says “Oh man, I am upset about the way this morning is going, and I’m going to choose to stay upset about it.” Recognizing says, “Mornings are hard.” Then, maybe, “How might they get better?” One way to make a hard thing…

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DIY Birdseed Ornaments

DIY Birdseed Ornaments

When I began this blog, I said that I wouldn’t do tutorials. Then, I made birdseed ornaments with my kids and I thought I would share them with you. Here’s why I want to share these: I tried to make them last year. They were cute but crumbly. I don’t remember what kind of fat I used, but it may have been coconut oil. Whatever I used didn’t keep the ornaments together. Then, a couple months ago, I saw a picture of birdseed ornaments that…

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Did You Know that It’s Fall?

Did You Know that It’s Fall?

The leaves are slowly falling, slowly changing, and I’m realizing that this autumn season makes me think that other things will change, that autumn is the best metaphor and I want to see all the pretty colors cover my world like a postcard. But life is not a postcard. –this is profound, I know. … Can the changing not be left to leaves and temperature, but used for life itself? –Life doesn’t follow nature’s seasons. Still, if I’m thinking about my life…

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Mom, I’m Going to Make a Flower

Mom, I’m Going to Make a Flower

I know this is just a piece of torn notebook paper. I know the tape is rough and the leaves will turn. But my boy made this. After breakfast, I had -lovingly- shoved my noisy kids outside. They were too harsh for the walls of our home so I sent them where there are no walls.– Where they can run and jump and raise their voices. Where birds chirp quietly and bugs crawl under our feet. Where wild things live unseen….

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About A Day

About A Day

Because it’s therapeutic just to journal about the day. Because in the thinking back, we can let go and find the beauty in our mundane. Because, in an effort to find significance where I am right now. It’s that place where kids are small and messes are big and none of us know what we’re doing. This morning, I woke up to a seven-year-old who had to go the bathroom and was eager to read The Boxcar Children. He said…

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Consider the Lilies

Consider the Lilies

“What about Susan Joan?” he suggested. My face crumpled. “I don’t love either of those names.” “Susan means graceful lily,” he said. “Joan means God is gracious.” The names have further significance. Both of them are aunts that have played vital roles in my husband’s life, people who continuously shower others with bursting love and creativity. They brighten everything around them. Still, to me, the name sounded harsh. Susan Joan. Not like the beautiful names that sat on my own…

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