New Look, New Tagline

When I began this blog, I was really uncertain that I would stick with it. I am great at starting things- not so great sticking with it or finishing it. So, I didn’t make it fancy – I didn’t really make it mine. I believe I have customized it now so that it is more me.

See, we live on three acres in Texas and we have a little red barn, we have 3 pastures- one severely overgrazed. We have animals -lots of animals- six, count ’em, six donkeys, 2 horses, 3 cats, 9 dogs, 7 puppies I’m trying to sell, several wild bunnies, a roadrunner family and assorted other wild animals. Some people wonder why we want to live with all these animals. Well, we love them all. We are out in the country, so why not help take care of God’s creatures?

Anyway, I  digress. In the beginning, when I began the blog, the tagline was ” The beauty is in the imperfection, and baby, I’m imperfect.” But, today, I changed it to “Beauty lies in imperfection.” I left it at that. It sounds more classy – or something.

So, per Blogging 101, I now have an updated blog that  represents more of what I am and what I love.

this old barn may not be much for some people, but we sure love it. oh, and that is my husband, Stephen.
this old barn may not be much for some people, but we sure love it. oh, and that is my husband, Stephen.
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Who, What , Where, When and Why- the Basics

… these are the basic questions a good journalist would ask  They are the most basic questions … or are they?

I am, at almost 57 years old, just finding out who I am. I have been a daughter, a mother, a wife, an ex wife, a wife again, an ex wife again and a wife once more to the guy I divorced the second time.

I find, though, at almost 57, not a senior citizen, but a woman just coming into her own. A woman who has discovered art, rediscovered horses and owns her own now, rediscovered life and living and rediscovered a love for God. The newly discovered love for God rivals those days as a preteen and teenager at church camp when God’s light flooded the tabernacle and we all were on fire as we trudged back to our everyday lives.  Only now, I find the fire is lit wherever I go. I find that I try to treat people as Jesus treated people. I try to be kind, empathic, I try to be loving towards those who cannot be. This is what I strive to achieve.

Who I am , who I’ve been have changed with time. I have no reason to think who I will become in later years will be subject to change as well.Things I know will never change about who I am is that I am a mother, a grandmother, a wife, a friend, a lover of beauty and a person who looks for beauty in the imperfection that is life. That is who I am, who I strive to be and who I will always be.

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Writing is like a Prayer

just say what you mean.
just say what you mean.

“To write is to pray.”- Paula Walker Baker- yep, I think I made that up all by myself- just now as I thought about what I was going to write.

I wonder if you have ever read blogs or stories in which the language is flowery, using unnecessary words, phrases, cliches or what have you? Well, I have and I have heard people who pray in that same language.

Me? Well, I like to write like I talk. I don’t want any pretense when I write- just want a good conversation piece- even if it is only with myself.

We had a guy at a church I attended once who would pray frequently. I guess the pastor loved his prayers, because he was called on an awful lot- but I found them boring, flowery and somewhat presumptious. Because I was a teenager, I wondered to anyone who would listen why this man insisted on praying like that. I mean, doesn’t God know what you mean to say? Doesn’t He already know our hearts and isn’t He just waiting for us to come to Him and tell Him our issues or requests in our own words, sans flowery agenda. No, when I write, it may not be in the “correct ” form for – say- an English teacher- maybe not even for a publisher- but it is the correct form for me.

I like writing like I talk. I realize that folks who don’t know me have no idea how I sound- where my inflections are or if there is any inflection. Maybe they think me monotone. But, I get the idea they know from how I write what I mean. If I want to say something, dadgum it, I’m just going to say it. I don’t want to pussyfoot around it. I just want to say it and have done with it. And I have done so- many times! And when I pray, I want to speak to God in easy conversations. It’s difficult for some of us, me included sometimes to pray. When I go to God, I don’t want to complicate it with a lot of words I may not be sure of the meaning. What’s the point in that? No, I want to say, “Hey God, help me with this deal. I’ve tried to figure out how to handle it and I’m at a loss. So, I need your help now. Oh and if You could see Your way clear to heal (insert name here), I sure would appreciate it. I’m kinda scared and I need You to help me out there. Thank you and forgive me of my sins.  Amen.”  That’s it -done. No flowery words, no what-not. I think He gets it.

pray  simply; easily
pray simply; easily

Do you?

Mission Trips-Send Your Kids and They Will Never Forget It

A couple of weeks ago, my husband, Stephen and I decided to invite a few of the homeless people we knew who had a been working and trying to better their situations to our house for a brisket dinner. The clergy, and other leaders came as well and we all had a great time eating, playing with the animals and just hanging out.

I want to go back a bit and say that David and Micah and their sister Amanda, always went on mission trips as youth in the church. It’s always a useful and productive thing to send your kids on mission trips to teach them compassion, empathy and learn how to help and love people who often feel unloved, unworthy. I always thought it was a good thing, but never really thought about actually seeing the fruits of the mission trips themselves. That’s because I’d seen it in subtle ways- nothing like I was about to experience the day of the cookout.

Stephen and I went to church down at Thanksgiving Square- Ervay and Pacific in Dallas, as usual. After church, we had to wait until the chairs were put away, the musicians put away their instruments and we sorted out who was riding with who. Once all that was done, we were on our way to the farm. Once we got there, David, his wife Natalie, Micah and his wife, Laura had continued to prepare dinner and it was ready to put on plates. The kids served our guests without hesitation and kept them at ease and comfortable.

Chris, the music guy at church,brought out his guitar and we all starting singing old songs- “horse with no name” and other such oldies, songs with gestures, fun songs to sing. I looked up to see that the kids were making plates for our guests to take for dinner that night. As our guests left, the kids handed the plates to them, one by one. Kinda like Jesus did-exactly like Jesus did.

I was almost brought to tears. My children took what they had learned on their mission trips- how to be more like Jesus- and was applying it now- right this minute! What a beautiful thing to see. They did it with such grace, compassion and empathy. I have never been more proud of the kids, never loved them quite as much as I did in that moment, and was never so humbled by my own children.

So, if you can send your kids on mission trips, do it by all means. Oh my gosh, the rewards they and you will reap and the blessings that go with all that are almost more than you can stand.

Later on, Natalie smiled and said, “i’m tired.”  I smiled back and said, “it’s a good tired, though, isn’t it?” She smiled and nodded her head.

It’s just a little piece of heaven in an otherwise cruel world.

Writer’s Brain? Hmmm. Let Me Think

My husband posted this to my Facebook just a few minutes ago. I had to laugh because this is so true of me. I have always had this thing- weird idea, i guess , that if i leave scissors or something sharp, say a screwdriver… well, that someone may well end up dead! 

In my mind’s eye, I can see a person breaking into our house ( never mind we have 9 dogs) , spotting the pair of scissors or screwdriver, grabbing it like a madman and begin their search and seizure. Searching for our sleeping bodies , stabbing us and then seizing any belonging we might have .

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