There they were, the least likely ones in the class, seeking shelter. In a way only middle schoolers can, these two had been a thorn in my side all school year. Like most students, at this age, they had been stretching their wings of autonomy. Unfortunately, those wings, stretching toward adulthood, were still limp and wet. They often crashed against the jagged rocks of adolescence, taking others in the class with them.

Sorry, Dear Reader, I know that may be a bit too philosophical and figurative. If you've ever spent ten minutes with a tweenager, though, you know what I'm talking about. Sometimes, them trying to grow up makes you want to throw up. "Stretching their autonomous wings"? That's code for being defiant/belligerent. "Limp and wet"? Social skills and common sense don't keep up with growing rebelliousness.

After months of struggling and learning and growing, there they were, seeking shelter.

Over the last several weeks, my marvelous redhead had been making more and more good decisions. Being as thick as thieves, she eventually started dragging her BFF along with her. I couldn't tell them enough how proud I am of them.

Most adults know, change frequently isn't easy. If you're in middle school, and you are trying to change from party central to scholar, not everyone is going to be happy about it.

Part of the frustration with my partners in crime had been the potential I had glimpsed in them, potential that seemed to be deliberately wasted. Now, they too, were beginning to see their own potential and possibilities. Their wings were starting to dry.

Learning to fly in the storm of simultaneous peer pressure and resistance, they hesitantly came to me. They wanted quiet and security to work on their assignment. Looking like the scholars they are becoming, they worked for a while, then looked at me.

"Mrs. Walters, why do our friends act like they're mad at us? We didn't do anything to them?"

Oh, Dear Reader, I would so love to tell you this is what writing looks like for me: soft and dreamy, words floating gently onto the page. I would love to, but I can't!

We leave for the mountains and the writers' conference in less than two weeks. I'm sorry if you're getting tired of hearing about it already. Just be thankful you don't live in the house with me.

Since Tom wasn't working overtime last Saturday, it was my chance to devote a whole day to writing, something I rarely get. Let me tell you, once again, how terrific this guy is. After having a colonoscopy on Friday, Tom was willing to take care of laundry and Saturday chores. What a guy!

Okay, back up for a minute. The Thursday before, this girl was having a melt-down. (I'm totally embarrassed to say the melt-down was the week I posted about getting a grip when the pressure is on.  The usually unflappable Tom, glanced in my direction without saying a word. 

"You don't understand!" I wailed. "I can't focus at home, and I don't have a quiet place to write!" (Yeah, it wasn't pretty.)

And then without missing a beat, Tom asked me why didn't I go to the genealogy center where I tutor. He's only been there once, very briefly and several months ago! Dear Reader, do you have someone in your life who sees what you can't when life gets cluttered? I surely hope so!

So, Saturday morning I went to the center and discovered this fantastic place I hadn't discovered before! It was perfect. After weeks of struggling to scavenge scraps of time, there were finally words on a page.

As of this posting, I've submitted two pieces for the conference writing competition, two weeks early, and two for critiques, a whole week early. And do you want to know the best part of my Saturday? (Well, of course, you do or you wouldn't still be reading, right?)

In the quiet, in the murky sunlight, among the trees, I found peace. Maybe I should say, God's peace found me. "Thou dost keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusts in thee." (Isaiah 26:3 RSV) It's amazing how a few hours in His presence, with His anointing, can make all the difference.

Dear Reader, do you have a place where you can rest in the Lord? He promises to meet you there.  ("For thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”" Isaiah 30:15a RSV)

How often do you have this expression on your face, asking, "What about me!"?  Has someone close to you hurt your feelings, accidentally or intentionally recently?

Last week I found myself devastated by someone's words (actually, the lack of them). It seemed to pierce me to the core, leaving me yelling at the ceiling, tears pouring down my face.

God may allow us to go to that ugly place, but I'm so thankful He doesn't want us to linger there. Poor Tom bore the brunt of my pain, and gently soothed me. By the time he left for work, my spirit had calmed enough to "hear" the Holy Spirit.

It surely cut to our Savior's soul to be betrayed by Judas and denied by Peter. He knew the men He had chosen. Still, I can't help but wonder if His human flesh wasn't wounded by some of those closest to Him. How can I compare an oversight to the intentional acts of Jesus' disciples?

The Holy Spirit's prompting enough. As I picked up the Bible study book I am reading, Write His Answer, the chapter for the day was about being a servant for Christ. Are you kidding me? To tell you the truth, Dear Reader, I couldn't read it. I tried, but failed. (By the next day, my heart was ready for its message and assurance.)
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​Heading down for breakfast with Maise and Joyce (Meyer), guess what she was teaching on? You got it! Emotions and having a servant's heart. This time, the tears were dried and the heart beat a little slower. The cat and I settled in to listen to God's Word. 

With mounting pleasure in His will, I was almost humming as I sliced cake to share at school, and packed the game and treats for the sweet girl I get to tutor once a week. God still wasn't finished redirecting me.

Really, People,I think the Christian radio stations played nothing but songs of service on the way to school. It seemed like God wasn't willing for me to stay in that ugly place any time at all. He wanted to make sure I got the message loud and clear. 

Here's the real clincher. A couple of days later I had to sub with a 6th grade class on Mass day. My students chuckled when the visiting priest started the homily and my mouth literally dropped open. This had to be a God-thing because as a rule, I don't attend Mass, and because it was a visiting priest who reminded me of Charles Stanley, (who reminds me of Daddy). 

Of course, the text was the Gospel of John's account of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples. It brought my recent personal study back to mind. I love the way John beautifully depicts the "handmaiden's" heart of our Lord throughout the gospel.

Dear Reader, I pray words and actions impacting your life are affirming. We can be thankful the writer(s) of Proverbs understands life isn't always positive. ("A heart full of joy and goodness makes a cheerful face, But when a heart is full of sadness the spirit is crushed." Proverbs 15:13 AMP)

But understanding is made stronger with encouragement like the writer(s) of the Psalms offers us, "Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why are you restless and disturbed within me? Hope in God and wait expectantly for Him, for I shall again praise Him, The help of my [sad] countenance and my God." (Psalm 43:5 AMP)

Are you kidding me! The disciples had just seen the resurrected Christ days earlier. He had breathed the Holy Spirit into them and given them their commission. And now they were back in the boats fishing! Seriously, what were they thinking?

Okay, Alice, breathe. These guys were human, too, remember?

When I was reading the short passage in John, I really had to stop and check myself. These were the Disciples, with a capital D. Weren't they supposed to be just a little super-human?

Then I flipped back a couple of pages in John's Gospel. Oh yeah, they were flawed, just like me. Empathy began to flow.

​The disciples had been on a roller-coaster ride of emotions in a very short amount of time, starting with Jesus's triumphant ride into Jerusalem. Woo-hoo! Palms and hosannas: here we go, boys, we're on our way now!

Less than a week later they watched their Messiah, Hero, and Leader be tried, beaten, humiliated, and executed. Where was the party now?

The party was on the other side of the tomb. Their host was the only Son of the Living God, Jesus the Christ. When they were too frightened to venture out after the horrific events that seemed to spell the end of their mission, Jesus came to them. And He didn't even have to ring the doorbell! 

And then they went back to the boats  . . .

It's official: Tom and I aren't yard people. We've tried, honestly. For ten, long years! We've planted, weeded, watered, and fed. It only took us five years to figure out that we needed to rock as many areas as possible, and plant as many perennials as possible. But guess what? Even rock needs tending!

I could say the problem is all those things we can't control. Things like the weather and what's growing in our neighbors' yards. But so could the folks living three doors down whose yard looks like something out of a lawn and garden magazine.

The good news is that gardening, if you could call what we've been doing gardening, can be very enlightening. It gave me a new perspective on priorities. I wouldn't call myself stingy, but this whole thing of investing seemingly endless amounts of time and money, with no guarantees, simply sucks. I'd much rather spend both on Annalyn and Gracie!

All that time working in the dirt has given me lots of time to think about other stuff, too. I've definitely developed an appreciation for those gifted with either green thumbs or perseverance. It also made me ask why a manicured lawn seemed important to me. Pride? Competition? Stewardship?

I had a friend who was all about being in tune with nature. Cindy seemed to be able to find a use for anything that grew. One summer, Rachael had the opportunity to spend some extended time with Cindy. Rach came home talking about gathering dandelions and making jelly from them. Whoa! You mean those yellow-topped varmints can be useful? 

Maybe weeds can be like the troubles of life: annoying and uncomfortable, but with purpose. God allows troubles to rid us of what may inhibit our growth. Then He sends the rain and Sonshine at just the right time to ensure a bountiful harvest. His timing is perfect. Too little or too much rain, too little or too much sunshine can be damaging, or even fatal.

I love the way Paul shows the connection between trouble and blessing: "We have been made right with God because of our faith. So we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Through our faith, Christ has brought us into that blessing of God’s grace that we now enjoy. And we are very happy because of the hope we have of sharing God’s glory.3 And we are also happy with the troubles we have. Why are we happy with troubles? Because we know that these troubles make us more patient. 4 And this patience is proof that we are strong. And this proof gives us hope. 5 And this hope will never disappoint us. We know this because God has poured out his love to fill our hearts through the Holy Spirit he gave us." (Romans 5:1-5)

What works for me is to listening carefully to the wisdom of the weeds. What works for me is to look up, look out, look around, for the love note God's sending, just for me.

Is there something in your world that may need a second look? What unlikely vessel is God using to try and teach you a new thing?

I'll be checking in at Mary's and Holley's this week. Would you like to join me?

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Are you a systems person? Can you visualize where the green bowl with the white lid is in the kitchen cabinet? Or the extra tube of toothpaste in the linen closet? Do you know exactly where the cover for the attic fan is stored in the basement? 

I was so excited several years ago when I heard the words "systems person" coined. Doesn't it sound so much better than "anal" or "OCD"? "Systems" just sounds ... smart! "Anal" just sounds, you know...

What's that got to do with pancakes, you may well be asking by now. Hold on! I'm getting there.

I can be a morning person as long as my systems are in place. My clothes for the next day are out and ready before my head hits the bed. We're weather watchers, so I plan out my week's wardrobe in advance. Then, of course, I color coordinate my nail polish to match. (Okay, that sounds a little OCD, even to me.)

Another personal system is prepping breakfasts and lunch for the week. (And, no, it's not because I'm Suzy Homemaker; it's because I'm lazy.) Anyway, all winter I made a big batch of oatmeal on the weekend to enjoy the next week. Trying to eat healthier means thinking and preparing for lunches, also.

I'm not the only one in the house who loves systems. It's like a contagion all of us have, even the cat! I guess that would make her a "creature of habit" instead of a "systems person", wouldn't it? Unfortunately, Maisie doesn't adjust to a change in habits as easily as I do. (That's me being a little sarcastic.)

Maisie isn't adjusting well to a change from oatmeal every day to pancakes, french toast or something else sticky, one day a week. (Small compensation for the dairy, salt and chocolate I've been cutting out of my diet.)

There she was hopping up onto my lap to watch Enjoying Everyday Life. Maisie didn't even notice there wasn't a throw on my lap, my welcome sign. (She likes  the coziness, and I like fur-free clothes.) Who was the dumb one here? The cat for not understanding the No Admittance signal, or the one in the chair? (That's a rhetorical question in case you're wondering.)

Anyway, Queen Maisie is perched on my lap watching her program. Then, right in between bites of syrup soaked pancakes, she decides it's time for a big stretch! There went my fork, off the plate and squarely onto her black velvet coat. Good grief!

Oh, wait! I haven't gotten to the real stupid yet. I deftly recovered my fork, also engrossed in the program, and not noticing that it had landed on my own Black Beauty, Going in for another bite, I didn't notice my fork was furry until I nearly had it in my mouth. Pretty gross, huh?

Not paying attention and/or not using the good sense God gave me, gets me in more trouble than I care to admit. It doesn't take a scholar to figure out the Isrealites seemed to have the same issues. How do you ignore a pillar of fire? Or how about those daily catered meals? How could they miss what was right in front of them? How do we?

Have you ever heard this speech in your head: "22 “Fools, how long will you love being ignorant? How long will you make fun of wisdom? How long will you hate knowledge? 23 I wanted to tell you everything I knew and give you all my knowledge, but you didn’t listen to my advice and teaching." (Proverbs 1:22-23 ERV)? 

The speech in my head goes something like, "Hey, Dork! Get a grip! How long is it going to take you to figure this thing out?!" Does that sound familiar?

God's Word is full of great news for His children! One translation contains over two hundred references for "wisdom", or getting a grip. I especially like what He has to say in the book of James, "Do any of you need wisdom? Ask God for it. He is generous and enjoys giving to everyone. So he will give you wisdom." (James 1:5 ERV)

And just to make sure we know what we're asking for, God tells us exactly what wisdom from Him looks like. "But the wisdom that comes from God is like this: First, it is pure. It is also peaceful, gentle, and easy to please. This wisdom is always ready to help people who have trouble and to do good for others. This wisdom is always fair and honest." (James 3:17 ERV)

Hey, how about come with me over to Crystal and Kelly's this week? There's always some great things going on at their places!

I've made lots of mistakes in my life. Probably most of us have. A few years ago I made a doozy! Not only did it have a negative impact on my life, it also affected others, including those I love the most.

For a couple of years I didn't want any part of the world, and I certainly didn't want it to have any part of me. All I wanted to do was hide. It was like emotional flagellation, beating myself up every day for getting stupid for a little while.

Have you ever hidden in an upper room? Trapped by emotions too numerous, or too intense, or just too something, that barred the door to your world, your heart? 

I wonder if that's how the disciples felt. I wonder if their disappoint in the circumstances, in themselves, chained the door. Did fear bind their hands? Could things get much worse? 

And then Mary banged on the door! Her faith and revelation burst through the doubts and disappointment, all the baggage of their/our feeble dust (Psalm 103:14 GNT). 

This is the Good News Part B: we don't have to hide in the upper room because "... all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God... " (Romans 3:23 RSV). I believe with all my heart that Jesus understands why we may want to hide in the upper room, but he doesn't want us to stay there indefinitely.

​The apostle John records in the book of Revelation, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any one hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me." (Revelation 3:20 RSV) I'm thankful Jesus provides us a way out of the upper room.

If you're in the upper room, maybe it's time to throw open the door. If you're not, perhaps you know someone who is, and could knock on the door. Come on, people! It's time to celebrate our risen Savior out in the open!

Twenty-four days and counting. How on earth will I ever get everything done in time? I'm ecstatic to be off on a grand, new adventure, but it's coming with homework.

Maybe I should back up for a minute:

• Self published Life with Bobby and Bonnie.
• Hoping subsequent book(s) to be published by "traditional" publisher(s).
• A writers' conference seemed one step closer to connecting with publishers.
• God opened doors to the Colorado  Christian Writers' Conference.

I can't wait, I'm just not sure I'll be ready to get on the plane!

I'm not saying it's true, but there are those who seem to think I'm OCD. I'll admit I'm frequently guilty of making lists. I have the best intentions, but frankly, I think I'm often trying to over-compensate for being ADD. If I don't have a list(s), I don't seem to accomplish near as much.

Dear Reader, I'm a mess! Wait 'til you hear this: blunder and blessing created four writing tasks for the conference. I love writing, I really do, but these are samples for REAL professionals! And there's a lot at stake: possible connection with a publisher and half off next year's conference registration. Good grief! Am I rambling?

Guess what, Dear Reader? God doesn't care if we ramble,or rant, or rave. As long as we come to Him, He can take whatever we have to dish out. ("May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer." Psalm 19:14) I believe as long as our intent is focused on  Him, He will support and sustain us.

Looking to Him, we can be thankful the Gospel of Matthew records Jesus' assurance to us, "28 “Come to me, all of you who are tired from carrying heavy loads, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke and put it on you, and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in spirit; and you will find rest," (Matthew 11:28-30 GNT). We can take all of our crazy to Him and He (alone) will give us rest from it.

What works for me is to sooner, rather than later, take everything that's overwhelming, confusing, or too much in any way for me to handle to Him. What works for me is surrendering the good, the bad and the ugly, instead of trying to maintain control myself.

What's going on in your world today? Do you need a list of all your lists? It's alright. We have a place to go for rest. Will you meet me there?

It would also be fun to meet over at Mary's and Holley's. Come on over! You'll be glad you did.

Honestly, Dear Reader, I'm not that old. (Although sometimes it seems like it.) Anyway, way back in second grade, Mama let me spend the night at my friend, Karen Stine's. I'd probably gone to sleepovers before, but this one was different. Karen's family didn't have indoor plumbing. What!

I don't know if Mama knew, but trust me, if I'd known I'd have told Karen, "Thanks, but not thanks." (Yes, I had "issues" even at that tender age.)

Karen very politely showed me the way to the outhouse before supper. During supper, Karen's mom explained that the next afternoon (Saturday) Karen and I would be the first to take our baths, IN FRONT OF THE FIREPLACE! I promise, I'm not kidding!

Back to the outhouse. I forced myself to go once before dark. I think that was the only trip I made the whole visit. I just couldn't do it. Unfortunately, I couldn't weasel my way out of the bath. Talk about being scarred for life! Needless to say, I didn't spend the night at Karen's again.

Our girls, Annalyn and Gracie, were here this weekend. Have you been around a toddler during potty training lately? Did it seem to you that her world, and yours, revolved around the toilet? And almost as bad, its axis relied on trusting the toddler.

After a quick supper at our favorite fast food stop, Gracie and Grandpa were heading home after stopping to pick up milk. Annalyn and I were going to do a little shopping. Oops! I forgot to take Gracie potty before they headed out. 

Mimicking a similar episode Gracie and Mommy had a couple of weeks ago at Target, Tom thought the cart had sprung a leak. Nope, just Gracie, who warned Grandpa about 30 seconds too late.

When big sister and I got home from shopping, "great" Grandpa had Gracie in the tub, wet clothes in a basket, and they were laughing and playing. I absolutely know that God was in the bathroom, smiling and clapping for Tom choosing to enjoy his granddaughter instead of grimacing over a bit of a mess. God showed me again the next morning that He'll go wherever He's needed, even the bathroom.

Time out for this public service announcement: I have a very empathetic and nurturing heart. Unfortunately, it seems to go dormant when health issues arise. (That means I'm horrible at "nursing the sick".)

Saturday morning Annalyn got up with a stomach ache. Okay, I know what to do. Thankfully, God does, too. (Has anyone else had trouble trusting toddlers or drama queens?)  Pepto-Bismol will cure what ails you, right? 

Easter morning we were preparing for the day like we had for several years. Tom and I usually prepare and take  lunch to enjoy at Mary's after attending services at hers and Mark's church. It's small payment to celebrate Resurrection Day with our kids.

After breakfast I was soaking up a few quiet moments in my chair by the window in our room. And would you look at that! It was raining snow! That's not what Easter morning is supposed to look like!

The unexpected turn of the day brought to mind Jesus's disciples on the third day.  The Messiah's side had been pierced to complete His execution. The soldiers had been ordered to close the tomb with a huge stone. The disciples were hiding. Even Jesus had said, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46 TLB) What hope was there?

On this side of the Resurrection, I don't think we can even begin to imagine the pain of the disciples. Neither can we possibly imagine the anguish of Jesus for His grieving followers. Of course He knew it was brief, nonetheless, it must have been agonizing.
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But Hallelujah and Praise the Lord, we ARE on the other side of the Resurrection! Nothing could hold Jesus in the grave, not the most powerful government in their world, or the most pious of the Sanhedrin, not even our sins. We serve a RISEN Savior! 

Dear Reader, I'm so thankful you have stopped by today. I pray all the promises of the Resurrected Christ are woven into the fabric of your life and you can't wait to see how He is going to bless you next!