Shingles. Not something I ever even thought about having in my late thirties. I thought it a culprit that lay dormant in our bodies until later years. I was wrong. I noticed it on Thanksgiving. My side began to itch and burn. I equated it to dry skin with the onset of cooler fall temperatures. A few days later my doctor confirmed it. Shingles. She asked, “Have you been under any stress?”  I scoffed at that word. Stress. My father had just been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. We were walking with him through treatments, researching possible available clinical trials, and striving to set the passing of time to…

Sometimes our hearts need a remodel. Stripped down to the studs by the allowance of the Holy Spirit’s presence to invade the little closets we build inside. You know. The ones we keep closed, hidden from view. It’s our little secret. The incessant worry about what others may think of me is a hidden closet of mine. Despite my efforts to clean it out through prayer and lock the door forever, it remains. Until one beautiful Saturday morning.  Saturdays are somewhat sacred to me. I try to keep an open schedule. It usually entails a few loads of laundry after a slow stream of coffee intake. The grocery run. Straightening…

Nostalgia cloaked me as I entered her home. Black and white photographs lined the entry hall; reminders of life’s happiest times from decades long past. Her soft voice of welcome summoned me to the living room, and I took a seat across from her on the wooden bench neatly placed in front of the organ. The once ivory keys have yellowed with age, much like her hands have wrinkled with days gone by. She was enjoying the simple self-care treasure of a manicure. The manicurist carefully filed her fingernails as she spoke. Our conversation content repeated several times, a reflection of the tangled web of thoughts woven by dementia. But…

Everything was fine until it wasn’t. My body periodically does not behave very well, and despite chiropractic care and analgesics, here I sit… rather here I lay.  Being in this predicament reminds me of going to the rodeo recently. Rodeo in Texas is like Fashion Week in New York. The latest styles in western wear are donned, and for three weeks, cowboys vie for their ticket to the finals in their event. Literal blood, sweat and tears are shed in pursuit of staking claim to the championship round. On the night of the finals, the coliseum was electric. One of the top bull riders prepared to take an eight second ride…

Grief is raw. It has no expiration date. It has no timetable. Sometimes it’s a leaky faucet. A glaze of tears that blur the vision when a particular memory reminisces the mind. At other times, the pipe bursts and tears emerge from the wellspring of your soul in heaves of sorrow for the loss of the person whose embrace you crave. If we could only hear their voice. If we could ask a quick question. If we could only see their smile. If only… I sat in the darkness of my room and hit play. My dad’s voice filled the air via a saved voicemail. The pipe burst. Tears leapt…

Father’s Day. A time of honor. A time of memory making. A time to call the police… I just needed to fetch two items from the grocery store after church. We had a special honorary lunch planned with family.  Rather than hauling my purse, I grabbed my wallet, tucked my phone under my arm, and zipped into the store. I made it out in record time. Happy with my speedy exit, I reached for my phone to message my sister and let her know we were on our way. Where was it?  A sinking feeling washed over me. I knew I’d taken it inside the store with me. I retraced…

The incessant grumbling of a bear’s stomach upon waking from hibernation is akin to my stomach’s need for food while I was pregnant. When hunger struck, there may or may not have been occasions when tears were involved if a waiting period was necessary before receiving nourishment.  In one memorable moment, I all but inhaled the chips and queso at one of our favorite restaurants. My husband, gingerly and with caution, told me that I didn’t need to worry… no one was going to take the chips away from me. I must have looked crazed as I shoveled those crispy triangles dipped in golden queso deliciousness straight into my mouth…

“I’ve got to get off the phone…the ranch is on fire…” were the words my husband spoke to me before the line went dead on an otherwise normal afternoon when I called to let him know I was on my way home from work.  He managed a wildlife ranch, and we lived on the property. I had no idea the magnitude of the blaze until I arrived at the county road that led to our home only to find it blocked by law enforcement vehicles. I explained my situation. After much finagling, they let me pass. Smoke rolled through the sky transforming the sunny day to ashen clouds.  My husband…

I saw her at church a little less than a year ago. I didn’t have an opportunity to visit with her before she slipped out the door, but I hoped to see her again. She had such an ease about her way. I did see her again a few weeks later at Starbucks. We struck up a conversation. After Starbucks, she was on her way to the local health club to exercise. We had an opportunity to pray together before we parted ways.  These are normal everyday occurrences. Stopping at Starbucks. Exercising at the health club. There’s just one difference. She was homeless.  I don’t know what circumstances led to her homelessness,…

I was having a day that felt much like a conditioning exercise I used to do many years ago while training for cross country. On the track, we would sprint the straightaways and walk the curves. My day felt like a sprint to get as much as I could done during my conference period- grade papers, contact a parent, make copies…This stop and go pace, while generating results of productivity, left me hovering around empty in my energy tank by the end of the day. It being my daughter’s first day of dance class, energy or no energy, the show must go on.  Excitement sizzled in the air as the…