Monday Monday


I thought my Monday medicine was most sublime, the concoction to level out the day of lots of talk, lots of stuff, lots of appearance for the sake of appearance.

So, yeah,

I made from scratch tomato basil soup, then decided, I’d love a bubbled up cheesy toast on the side.

So, thought,

how perfect is the unraveling of my Monday and I was at peace with tomato soup in my peace cup on an ordinary night.

Then, I discovered this in my following feed:

you just keep on using me until you use me up

And I smiled.

And realized, oh, yes, I needed a smile, a little groovy kinda shimmy smile!

Thanks Ray and thanks, David for topping off my Monday, Monday!

Tender Mercy


I must have held a bit too tightly, anxious in my grasping.

I saw it there, moved quickly, lifted my hand and met its movement.

Held it in my hand.

I clutched with all my heart, my mighty mind and anxious searching.

And longer this time, it rested there, before its wings in a flutter of struggle convinced my opening of hand

to release again to the heavens,

mercy, stopped by again…

tender mercy.

I dreamt in bright color, red.

Held mercy in my hand, a red bird, fearless and for me momentarily; yet, less fleetingly than before.

I touched its velvet belly.  My palm cushioned its smooth chest and my fingers  settled its fitful feathers.

It rested longer this time, just enough for me to know,

tender mercy, I know you, yes.

Love and Dog


Sayin’ goodbye to my (our) girl.

Not much of a  blog post, no reference to verse or experience.

No real story,  astoundingly deep or from place of all of a sudden epiphany

or long, simmering to the point of

yes…I am understanding, now.

Just a Labrador who loves us all

and who is happy to be amongst the people

who come and who go

in our somewhat boring, yet steady place

we live

where the tennis ball gets tossed and the bed lies waiting for him to plunk down his long dark and lanky limbs to rest.

Colt, Colton Dixon, Colt 45…rescue dog and early Christmas gift, made no sense to  college boy son.

You, big goofy smart and loving dog, you are loved.

Morning, Splendid Day


Good day, unleashed

I woke to sounds of nothing. Certain it’s 3:00 a.m. but, I must not look to see. Lie still, adjust quietly, pray, wander your mind, turn this way or that.

This night time thing that I refuse to accept, this pain that is mean and creepy and wakes me up, an angry spasm.

Try this, try that.

What on earth is a rotator cuff, anyway? I’m a stubborn woman. Do not like meds. Do not favor surgery. I will fix this off kilter place in my arm. I know I can.

Try not doing this, not doing that.

Yesterday was splendid, I laid there and thought.

The weather, the walk, the determined abandonment to art that’d been promised.

Colt, unleashed,  ran ahead and looked back to be sure of my follow.

Two grown geese courting  mid pond, took their time swimming away, no worries, we’ll take flight if need be.

Big happy dog swam towards them and they flirted just slightly ahead. He came when I called. His hip, knocked out of place by car, before we found him having been discarded by another,

mIght hold him back, might fling out of socket, a crazy thing.

I called him back, worried he might get too far, refusing to accept he was not as able as he hoped.

Yesterday was splendid.

He turned from the geese, close to the other side and with slowly ummph-like movements, he emerged and stood with me on the bank.

He shook, looked back, shook again and we climbed the big hill back towards the road.

Keeping him close, we strolled and paused, strolled and paused. I patted his head and said. “It’s a good day, Colt” two, three, maybe four times. Oddly happy over my talking to him and knowing he heard, I said it again.

Thinking, how beautiful a day, to be taught by a dog and to be noticed by another.

Someone surprised me and said, “You’re a very good writer.” and I replied “Thank you so very much.” hoping they knew their significance in my newly and decidedly splendid day.

I woke today, had been waiting.

I heard, finally, the morning. Dark still but, the birds beginning to sing.

Made my way for ibuprofen, caffeine and quiet meeting  with birds and Bible.

“It’s a good day.”  I thought.

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning. Lamentations 3 : 22 – 23



I have a friend who is a therapist, yoga instructor and a quite beautiful singer. Her voice is smooth, her tone steady and open to my turning.


He redeems my soul in safety from the battle I wage. Psalm 55:18

She talks about trauma like David thought of Goliath.

As if to say, “I know you’re lurking, come at me, I’m stronger than you know.”

Oh, the mind filled messes we all hide away, stuff under the bed or way, way back in the dark corner of our dusty attic minds…

Thinking, “I know you’re still there; but, I have no need for you whatsoever…stay up there, away, I know you; but, have no need to bring you out.”

Trauma and memory, fine ’til they can’t rest and start to dance together, way past midnight in our dreams.

Last night, I watched a movie. Rare for me because I despise the “F word” and I have no desire for sex that looks like proud display of nastiness and shame.

The movie, “Woman in Gold” and the actor a strong and determinedly beautiful woman scarred by the siege of Hitler.

The one scene, the one that stirred up my thoughts, she is afraid to go back and remembers fleeing before being taken prisoner.

She melts down. I saw it in her eyes, Helen Mirren portraying trauma splendidly well.

She faced it. It was so very debilitating,  just for a few seconds.

She knew her giant.

Would not concede.

I dreamt in color of scary things last night, of being held captive, of being harmed.

It was clear and real. It was a true story, true of my story.

Still, I woke and said to myself.

You know the reason for the dream. You know the games your mind plays either you let it become filled with the messes or you pause to be mindful of its seed.

I thought of my friend as I practiced mindfulness and rose to begin my day unscarred by the night and its thoughts.

Birds singing to celebrate the early bloom of forsythia and azalea, of hope, truth and quiet confidence.

Feathers found reminding of grace singing over me.

Filling my mind with things to grab hold to, store up, win battles with.

I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee who is changing the way I see “happy”.


Tell His Story

Praise Again


Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God. Psalm 43:5


I feel like Helen Keller might be better called a Psalmist,

Angelou, too.

Thanks to writers and wise ones,  I discovered poetry, again.

Mary Oliver, a Psalmist, I believe.

Ann Voskamp, possibly, me.

Possiby you.

Psalmists, too.

Yesterday, the world had no spot for my eye to find rest.

I turned away, didn’t draw near.

Brilliant camellia, I walked right past, thought there are more to come, I’ll wait for the

bursting buds another day.

Another day more brilliant, maybe.

Then, today …oh, today.  The air crisp with a call,  “Come out!”

Rain stopped, long fallen flat, yet beautiful leaves and  the fuzzy bloom of plum tree beginning,

longing  to be seen.

Thrilled by my face turned towards high reaching limbs.

A soft wisp of petal falls and is moist on my cheek.

Yes, goodness me,  today.

I found you beautiful again and new,

Praise, again.

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee and a beautiful story about learning, love and Valentines.






color, palette knife, pastel and graphite

A mood hovered over, no reason at all.

No reason at all.

The day, not especially hard not especially easy; but, the mood hung a dark cloud, pulled the shades down over the good I looked around to see.

I find this quite regular, normal and human.

The body tired, the mind deplete, sneaky way you find yourself sort of lonely blah.

Few speak of it, even fewer embrace it for the beckoning of its call to be noticed.

Slow down a while,  won’t you?


Slow down, empty your mind.

Find some place wherever in your little heart that waits vacantly to take ahold of your heavy.

And be better for the time you decided to go easy on you and to free your mind

and let the colors follow.


Chance and Fences


chances, today and hopefully tomorrow

I’m pretty sure God would not design us to straddle the fear of failing fence.

Pretty sure, he calls us to walk steadily towards good things, things that he knows our hearts desire and our minds were made for.

Things we wonder over whether it could be possible for us, all the while being unafraid

to try a new thing,

a different thing

a thing you decide admittedly naive,

might it be possible?

Today, I entered a writing competition.

That is all I required of myself.

Write and enter.

I did. I took a chance.

That was all that was required, write because you love it and let others read your words.

That was enough, all it took.

I thought later.
“The more chances I take,
the more
I will be given.”


enough for one day.

by faith




towards heart’s desires

Faith, to me is really more bravery than anything.

It’s enduring self-doubt and even hostility towards your own tender self and deciding to continue on, not growing weary.

Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself so that you may not grow weary or faint hearted. Hebrews 12:3

By faith, whatever that treasure you hold tightly to, keeping quiet about it lest your heart be broken by the attempt and failure or the safety of keeping it secret…

By faith, it can come to fruition.

Hebrews 11, I named the “By Faith 15” cause it’s full of stories of people who simply kept moving forward towards God’s treasure for them.

So, by faith. I began painting again. By faith, I began blogging, telling myself I’m so not skilled for this but, I just kept on writing, by faith.

By faith, I told some special people about my book idea and even let some critique it’s intro.

By faith, I decided to be a brave writer, to be true to my story, not doubtful or embarrassed over the naivety of my dream coming true.

By faith, I wrote almost 2000 words on a Saturday afternoon, my laptop lost 500 of them but, I stopped and looked out the window towards my mama’s birdbath and said “Do not give up.” By faith, I sent the submission in and by faith, I made the final round for publication. By faith, I’m waiting now for the next step…the email to say whether I was selected.

By faith, I will trust God in the decision.

By faith, I am writing tonight, maybe painting too.

By faith, I will submit an essay to a contest no later than Monday because that is the next step.

By faith, I will decide between “It Was Libby” or “The Colors of my Bible”
Two essays, about 700 words so far.

By faith, I will wait and know God will reveal today which story should be shared.

By faith, I will look for God in my moments with others today and I will prepare my heart to lead Missions tomorrow.

By faith, I will just keep taking the next step. I will not grow weary, not grow faint hearted.

Precious Life


Elijah Blue ‘n Colton Dixon

Made it in time before sundown and we covered our faces in fleece. Heather says fat burns fast in cold air.

So, we strolled, imagining calories burned for the sake of cold air. Baby sized ponds, the dogs ran through and we fussed over it, then called ’em back, inviting their play again.

A storm last night, she said, “The windows were shaking, mama, I mean shaking!”

I thought for less than two seconds, “Wish I’d known.”  and she continued with telling me of reaching for her sleeping husband.

Precious, I thought, oh, how sweet!

I made it before sundown and we walked on thick and sandy dirt roads, wide expanse of sky and talk of nothing really and everything really.

“What is it you plan to do with
your one wild and
precious life? “

Mary Oliver

How precious.