My name is Alice and I'm addicted to Candy Crush Saga.  After years of being a computer/video/tech game snob, I'm hooked.  There, I've said it!  Are you happy now?

I used to think only those lame people who had too much time on their hands played "those stupid games".  And then I got the new phone . . . Guess who's lame now?

What exactly is the attraction?  I took so many psychology courses in college I could probably have a minor, so I should be able to figure out my personal addiction, right?

But wait, what about all that down time in lines at Walmart, or while the laundry finishes drying or in between classes? Oh good, now I'm addicted and rationalizing. 

You'd think I'd get help from the fam . . . NOT!
Even the granddaughter taunts me, "Allie, my dad is on level ??? on Candy Crush.  What level are you on?" 

And then, are you ready for this?  At an Easter gathering, you know, with the people I love most and who have dealt with the backlash of addictions, they start talking about "Trivia Crack".

Okay, we're all about "trivia" in our family, had the whole shelf in the hall closet full of Trivial Pursuit games at one time.  Are we a bunch of nerds, or what? I should have seen it coming when they started whipping out their phones.  My sister was playing Trivia Crack while we were engaged in a rousing game of Uno.

PAUSE: Am I the only person on the planet who did not know that nearly every card/box (hands on) game is available in an app?  Duuuhhh!

Back on topic: how does something seemingly innocent become such a distraction?  Is it addiction or merely an indulgence?  Can our indulgences be all bad?

Guess what? I don't know the answers to those questions.  I do know what works for me is trying to maintain a balance between the "need tos" and the "want tos", and remembering that life without either one can have negative consequences for me and those I share my life with.

Do you have a personal indulgence or distraction? How do you manage to keep it in balance?

I'm linking this post to Giving Up on Perfect and Coffee for Your Heart.

As I write these words, my heart is about to burst in my chest. It's not pride or sense of accomplishment, it's wonder! It's wonder and amazement and thanksgiving, and humility, and much more that I cannot even articulate.

Last July, Tom and I signed a contract with Xulon Press to self publish Life with Bobby and Bonnie.  On July 9, as I read my Holley Gerth devotional, I arrogantly, ignorantly wrote my prayer that my book would be on store shelves by my birthday this year. At our school retirement luncheon, I had boldly announced to my colleagues that I hoped for Bobby and Bonnie to be on store shelves within two years.  How little did I know!

There are times I think if there's a wrong, ineffective way to get a message of love, hope and forgiveness out to kids needing it desperately, and to raise awareness of their great need, that's what I'm doing.  So many wrong turns, so many mistakes. Like all of life, it's a journey, isn't it? Learning, failing, falling, striving to keep moving. 

But, "  . . . (God) knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust."  (Psalm 103:14). How awesome is that! He knows we're going to screw up. He knows we're going to do our best and still land flat on our faces at times. And knowing that, He not only loves us, He loves us even more when we lift our faces from the dirt to seek His face.

I've bumbled and fumbled along, trying to hear, straining for that still small voice. On Maunday Thursday it seemed like a good idea to stop by the local Barnes and Noble and ask about a book signing. Life with Bobby and Bonnie is carried by Barnes and Noble online, so why not? I had no idea how book signings work, but why not? After a few minutes with Nicole, the events coordinator, we agreed on a book signing. A few days later, May 9 was agreed upon for the big event.  Woo-hoo! We're on our way!

I don't know about you, but I'm learning that if books have been meaningful and had an impact on me, it's beneficial to reread them, so I've been rereading Holley's devotional. And then it happened, there it was, I may have forgotten, but God didn't! 

As I read the page and my inscription for July 9, 2014, the book dropped from my hands and my spirit fell to its knees. God remembered! He remembered my bold and ignorant prayer, and He loved me so much He answered it! Still soaring, a couple of days later I was notified that my books were on the shelf in the store, exactly a month before my birthday.

God loves us beyond all we can imagine! He loves us in spite of ourselves, and He wants to chase us down to bless us, as undeserving as we are.

My Dear Readers, Life with Bobby and Bonnie has never been about me (although my flesh longs to scream that it is); it's about the Lord's message of His everlasting love, hope and forgiveness to us and for us to share with others. He's opened and closed doors, He's patiently waited and tenderly guided.

Dear Readers, I earnestly pray whatever dream is hovering in your heart that you will take that leap to trust God with it.  If you are already on the journey, I pray you will be overwhelmed with wonder and thanksgiving as God unwraps your dream for you.

What is it? What is hovering in that secret place that can change your life, and maybe the world? What's holding you back from bringing it out into the Sonlight?

It was Good Friday, and it was a great day!  I'd love to tell you it was a new depth of understanding and internalizing of the day's significance that made the difference.  Time had been spent in prayer, reflection and sharing. Perhaps that's what had plowed the ground for a great day.

It hit me while sitting in my favorite chair, by the open window in our bedroom that overlooks our backyard.  What a good day!  Not just good, but great!  I stopped reading the new book Mary had recently given me, and turned to share the view  Magellan was enjoying. (BTW: The pic above isn't Magellan, but must be a very close cousin.)

The open window allowed an early spring breeze to slip around His Majesty. He stretched and yawned and grudgingly offered up a bit of his sunshine.

All was quiet in the house as James read a book in his room, and Tom was on his way to pick up our favorite little girls for a sleepover. Hmmm!  This was almost as good as chocolate, but with zero calories.

And I reveled.  

Reveling? What's that? I stopped, acknowledged, appreciated and soaked up the peace in the moment.

It was one of those rare moments with time and space to breathe slow and deep.  A moment when quiet and peace penetrated to the hollow place deep within.  And the best part, the ordinary, extraordinarily best part? There was nothing really extraordinary about the day at all.

Nope! Not a thing actually. And that's exactly what makes the day so great. It was being able to accept the ordinariness of the day's events, and to appreciate and accept their worth.

My hope is that you will have quiet house, cat in the window days. I pray for calm and peace to overwhelm and saturate you.

What turns your good day into a great one?   

I almost, almost wish you could see this pouty, petulant face, almost, not quite! Sadly, I must admit that the pout is mine.  I was just finishing another post and was asking myself, "Does my grammar ALWAYS have to be perfect?"

What? Someone who perceives and pursues writing who is questioning grammar? Isn't that sacrosanct? Yes? Maybe? Sometimes? Who knows?

Of course, my first thought was to text my daughter, a published author and busy editor. Naahh! I'm a teacher, for crying out loud; I should automatically know the answer to that question, right?

(This was like one of maybe two pictures I saw that didn't look like it was posed.  I sure hope someone didn't just run over her cat.)

So much for feeling sorry for the cute kid; this is kind of how I'm feeling, but not looking anywhere near this cute.  

I write; I think I write a lot.  It's probably all a matter of perspective, but it seems like a lot to me.  Wouldn't you think chronically using good grammar would be a given?

For crying out loud, I'm the one who was yelling in the kitchen at the word processing program (which shall remain nameless to protect the innocent) when it "greened" me in grammar check while editing my book and it was wrong! 

I can't tolerate poor, let's just say it, bad spelling.  I totally discredited a psych textbook one time because I spotted two spelling errors. The prof insightfully informed me that I had some OCD issues. Thank goodness, I didn't spot any grammar mistakes, too.

So here's rationalization #8,503 in my life: I will try to employ impeccable grammar, especially around small children, to the best of my ability.  I agree to seek therapy, as needed. And then, what works for me, is to just give it up and pray those reading can also be fault-laden, but forgiving.  

Is there something that makes your face twitch?  Maybe in yourself, or others? Do you look around and wonder if it's bothering anyone else, or ask yourself, "Does my xxxx ALWAYS have to be perfect?"


This post is being linked to Giving Up on Perfect and Coffee for Your Heart.

Magellan and I were sharing the view from the bedroom window one afternoon recently.  Actually, I think one of us was sharing while the other was usurping. I'm not pointing any fingers, though, since His Majesty is totally convinced his name is on the mortgage and frequently asserts his ownership rights, like hogging the window.

Anyway, we had arbitrated a compromise and were peacefully enjoying the sunshine, the light breeze, a little birdsong.  (Magellan may have been licking his lips at the birds because I think I spotted a little kitty dribble on his chin.) There we were, absorbed in our own reveries, when all of a sudden "there arose such a clatter", oops, sorry, wrong season, when all of a sudden there was a bunch of racket in the corner of the yard.

This is the corner.  That's my happy bench. When we got it, I envisioned Annalyn and I sitting cozily among books and pillows on summer afternoons.  My allergist, Dr. Loren, is pretty terrific and keeps me breathing like a normal person most of the time, but even he has his limits when I immerse myself in allergens.

Back to the story. You may notice the leaves and debris surrounding my happy bench.  Who knows when we'll finish cleaning up the clutter. (Sometimes Tom gets that "Tomorrow is another day," attitude about yard work.  In my head I'm yelling, "Just shut up, Scarlett!") Roughly speaking, I'd say there's several inches of stuff down there, and it sounded like that the ruckus was coming from that direction.

Peering around His Majesty, pressing my nose against the screen, I could finally detect a bunch of the dried leaves looking like tiny explosives were being detonated under them.  We kept watching and eventually saw at least two birds who were the culprits, but what were they doing?

More detonating, more flying leaves, and then the birds would stop like they were looking intently at or for something, but what?  This went on for several minutes, and may would have longer except the two mastodon dogs next door decided it was run and play time. So much for the birds.

Lately and all too often, it's felt like I've been detonating leaf bombs. Making a big noise and a bigger mess, and either being scared off course or not finding what I was looking for.  

When I was looking for a suitable picture for the quote box, I learned that birds do that crazy leaf dance in the spring.  They're either rooting out a nest, or gathering materials to build one.  And I learned they are not easily deterred. If one spot doesn't work out, they keep trying until they find one that will. Why? Because down deep in their little birdy hearts, they know what's important.

Huh! Why can't it be that simple for us incredibly endowed, educated and enlightened human beings?  Have you exploded any leaf bombs lately? Or have you relocated looking for just the right spot to . . . ? Or maybe you already know what's really important, but how did you know?

Trying to be transparent so I want you to know I don't have a definitive answer to the question, "What is faith?" Like many of you, I'm on a journey, and sometimes I have to stop and get my bearings. I have to make sure I'm aligned to my compass in order to arrive at my destination.

I've written a lot about my God-sized dream (giving hope to at risk kids). To me, it's huge and wonderful and vastly important.  Sometimes I need to be reminded, it's my dream, tailor-made for me, not Tom's or the kids', or anyone else's. I need to be reminded that as incredible, and dare I say it, valuable, as I believe my dream to be, it's not likely to be as incredible or valuable to everyone in my world, or beyond.

So far, I can pinpoint three other God-sized dreams in my life, even though I didn't call them by that name.  Mary began introducing me to dream terminology a few years ago.  (I wonder if she knows she was a huge part of my first God-sized dream.) Not only did God plant the dreams in my heart, He led me to harvest.

But for one of the dreams, even when the harvest was over, I still kept trying to water and grow it.  Have you ever been in a field after the harvest?  When it's over, it's over. I falsely believed it was faith that kept me hanging on even when God shut door after door. Now, I think it may have been vanity, stubbornness or delusion, but it wasn't faith.

My current God-sized dream has been brewing in me far longer than I initially realized. This past year, I dove fully into it (admittedly, dragging poor Tom and the kids along at times). I've learned a great deal about a lot of things, some easier than others, and I know the Teacher still has lots for me to learn.

Right now, I'm involved in a couple of projects I was just sure were necessary in order for my dream to come to full fruition.  I was putting my faith in events, people, funding.  Guess what?  I WAS WRONG!

Have you ever felt like God was using a meat mallet to tenderize your heart? I have, especially with dream #3. Looking back I can see that my stubbornness made the process longer and more painful than perhaps  God wanted it to be. 

On this side of my personal stupid, maybe it taught me something about faith. This time, it only took a few days instead  of years, literally, for me to realign to my compass. This time, my heart and ears weren't so plugged with "reasoning " that I couldn't  hear from the Lord.

Isn't it amazing the peace and confidence that "floods (our) soul(s)" when we "let go, and let God"? To me, that's when we practice faith. I'm not sure any of us ever becomes 100% faithful, but that's okay.  Growing doesn't mean perfection. 

I'm so thankful God continues to call or whisper or even take out the mallet in order to increase our faith, and draw us into a closer relationship with Him, aren't you? How do you know when your faith is growing?  Or when it isn't? 

Have you ever felt like a reed in a river?  You know, governed by winds and waters that you seemingly have no control over?

Recently I was in that place.  I was doing everything I thought I was supposed to do, and none of it seemed to make any difference.

It really wasn't a pretty picture: bathroom, sobbing, relinquishing, starting over. And here's the cool part: once I went through that little metamorphosis things began to fall into place.  

Okay, maybe not all of them, and maybe some were slowly rolling uphill, but at least moving in the right direction.  The big change? I knew I couldn't do it all myself, so why was I even trying? And why was I surprised the next day to realize I had to relinquish again, and probably for all the days after?

Once I got on the other side of self, again, I was reminded that we are uniquely, intricately and finitely made. God gives us all the tools we need to complete the perfect plans He has for each of us, all but one, Him.  We have to ask Him to join us in the journey.

I love writing to/for you! Sometimes I look like this little guy (below), or feel like a reed in the river, but what works for me is remembering I'm not on the journey alone. (BTW: I couldn't find a single photograph of a single reed; they all seem to come in bunches, AND are definitely affecting the path and flow of the waters.)

Have you had one of those ah-ha! moments when you realized you had to relinquish before you could move on? How do you get to the other side of you?

This post is being linked to Giving Up on Perfect and Coffee for Your Heart.

Summer's coming!  Still having a teacher brain that means I'm already thinking about "fun" things I'd like to do this summer.  Even if Tom would never tell me, it also probably means he is starting to dread how my "fun" things will show up around the house.

Unfortunately (probably more for Tom than me), some of my "fun" things don't turn out quite as well as I originally think.  Alas, the lamp shade.  Now before you start crossing your eyes at its pitiful presentation, I want to tell you there have actually been a few visitors to my classroom who actually like my lamp.

I watched my DIY shows and it seemed like a fairly easy project to add some color and whimsy.  Let's just go with that, shall we? What they don't always tell or warn you about is that if you start a project and already know it's not going to be a winner, it's TOO LATE!

So, from the bedroom to the bathroom to the classroom, my colorful, whimsical lamp and shade have looked for a happy home.  I can't seem to let them go because the combo inspires me to keep trying.  You know, confidence and perseverance, like in Madame Curie's quote?  Like my newest colleagues and the annual luau.

I gotta tell you, seeing the principal in a grass skirt and lei greeting parents as they drop off their kids is a stitch!  The kindergarten teacher is out there in her neon "tropical -inspired attire" with a hula hoop and a couple of middle school girls.  Our only guy, an amazingly talented musician, has been drafted to play a ukulele, even in a gloomy, light mist morning.

What a way to start the day!

Being parochial means fund-raising, lots of it!  That of course means lots of work for everyone.  My colleagues and the parishioners are so inspiring! They put in countless hours to support something they believe in.  And I must tell you it definitely showed on Saturday night!

All kinds of folks showing up with smiles, tropical shirts and wallets jumping out of pockets and purses.  Their confidence in their school is only surpassed by their generosity.  Unfavorable shifts in demographics, economy and funding don't seem to damper their spirits or their dedication.  The folks at St. Regis are the personification of Curie's tribute to perseverance, confidence and "believ(ing) that we are gifted for something and that this thing must be attained," and I'm so thankful to be among them!

I really enjoy my phone! It does so many great things! Practical things, like keeping my calendar and making my grocery lists accessible without carrying a clipboard. Fun things to pass the time, you know that addictive "Candy Crush Saga", not to mention a gadzillion pictures of my granddaughters.

As much as I enjoy my phone and keep learning new ways to integrate it into my life, I just can't seem to figure out how to get rid of the Messenger chat heads after conversations. Most of the time they can be a little annoying, but then my dear, sweet friend, Brenda, pops up.

Brenda has blessed me in a lot of ways. I think the second best gift she's ever given me is joy (the best is her unconditional love). Like most of us, Brenda hasn't lived a charmed life. What makes her a remarkable woman and friend is that she seeks joy and happiness.
Just seeing her smiling face pop up in a chat head makes me smile all over my face, her smile makes me happy!

Brenda and her family moved back to Toledo from the Kansas City area when our girls were in elementary school.  We've kind of kept in touch over the years, but now Facebook makes staying in touch much easier.  When she referenced having worked at a school in Toldeo for 20+ years recently, I was simply amazed.  How did that happen!  

And yet, there was Brenda popping up on my phone with an always positive, encouraging message and her beautiful smile.  I can't wait for our visit this next fall!  And I haven't even mentioned Brenda's hugs.  They're the icing on top of the her angel food cake.

Is there someone that merely seeing them makes you happy?  Someone whose face always brings a smile to your face and heart?  I sure hope so.  Does your smile bring someone else joy?

For years, one of the tenets of teaching has been to give students specific feedback.  In the classroom, how can we expect children to repeat positive behaviors, or quit negative ones if they don't know which is which?  Make sense?  Let me explain with some real life observations.

Coming out of a freak electrical storm over the Atlantic, planes were packed and stacked at the Philadelphia airport.  Talk about a mess! As we neared the ticket counter to be redirected toward our destination, I noticed that many of those ahead of us were rather harsh with the two women working our lane.  

Granted, we'd been in an incessant line for over four hours.  That's long to start with, but following a trans-Atlantic flight, it was excruciating.  I noticed the two women graciously persevered in many new arrangements, no matter how rude the customers were.

As our turn approached, I quickly found a scrap of paper and wrote a note to them letting them know their patience and kindness had been noticed.  If I'd been in their shoes, I may have been heading toward the door.  

Tom wasn't going to hand them the note until I "forced" him to.  He looked sheepish. One of them read the note while the other was getting our information.  The one with the note started smiling, handed the note to her colleague, and apologized for the delay.

We deflected the apology with verbal empathy. Not that it was my intention, but before you knew it, these amazing professionals not only had set us up in a top-rated hotel with meal vouchers, they put us in first class for our flight home the next day!

You know that line in "Two Weeks Notice" when Sandra Bullock talks about the voice in her head (her mother's)?  Hateful words slip from my lips way more than I want.  One filter that helps is to remember the words in my head that have made an impact on me, words for good and for ill. What works for me is to try and remember that my words can similarly impact someone else.

I like the image of words from Hill's quote, words as seeds.  Words have power, don't they?  What are the words that resonate in your brain?  What helps you to plant seeds of success in the mind of another?

I am linking this post to Giving Up on Perfect and Coffee for Your Heart.