bsmiles and sunny days

I love my house... when it’s clean. If I am gone for any amount of time and come home to disaster area, I lose my mind. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I feel closed in. It is as if the clutter in noise, that creepy monkey banging cymbals together. I can’t stand it.  As soon as I’m out of bed each morning, I make my bed. Pick up shoes. Hang clothing. Take the dirty laundry out. I wouldn’t say I’m a clean freak, but I love order. I more than love it. I want it perfect. Perfection is the goal.  We were made for perfection. Way back in the Garden, we were perfect. We drank from that beautiful well. But when Adam sinned, he was shut out of the garden of perfection, and vicariously, so were we.  God has set that love of perfection in our hearts, but we cannot achieve it without Him. Even if we work really hard and strive for it, we can’t even come close. But we have access to the source of perfection. He can satisfy that need. He closes the gap between our brokenness and whole...

This morning I went through the Panera drive through to get an iced coffee. When I got to the window, the guy handed me a hot coffee. Normally I would assume it was a misunderstanding, politely take it and drive away. I don’t like to make a fuss. But this time, I told him I had ordered my coffee iced and asked if he could change it out. When he turned around to put the hot coffee on the counter, he realized that my iced coffee was there waiting.  I don’t like it when people make a big deal about arbitrary things, and I never want to be a burden. It’s hard for me to be honest because it emotionally costs me something if someone is put off by me. I always think I will age out of it, but it’s still a struggle. There’s a line in one of Andrew Peterson’s songs that says, “Do the best you can to say the words.” That line ticks through the ticker in my brain on a daily basis. I’m still trying to say the words.  This seems so petty, because it’s just coffee, but today I said the words...

I was very young when we lost a pastor that we loved and found a new shepherd for the flock. The new guy was totally opposite from the man that left. One was tall and the other small. One had a resonant, booming voice and a regal presence. The other was reserved in the pulpit and more approachable in person. It was a serious adjustment, and I wasn’t ready to let go of the old and embrace the new.   Pastor Knight proved to be patient, kind, quick to listen and offer a word of encouragement in any situation. He showed up for dinner when he was invited. He showed up at the hospital when someone was sick.  When I was a teenager, I shared my longing to write a book, and he gave me some good advice and wished me well. When I told him I felt a calling into ministry, he took me on a few hospital calls, spent time sharing some of the hard parts of the job, and told me that when God calls, He also equips. When I found the love of my life, he counseled us over a meal at the Mexican resta...

We went for a walk yesterday at the walking park just outside of town. The trail we took was mostly shaded and relatively level. I was absolutely in fall heaven under the trees as we walked. The birds were singing, the wind was gently passing through us. The boys had their scooters and Scarlette had her hoverboard.  We walked about a mile when we came to a little bridge over the creek that runs through. I reminded the boys to keep a lookout because we saw a cottonmouth snake the last time we were there. Just about the time I said that and was passing over the bridge, Clinton spotted a snake coiled up on the rocks. It startled a little with us all gathered around looking at it, and it slithered down the rock to the water. I assured myself that snakes do not attack unless they are cornered or injured.  On the way back, the snake was positioned in the same spot, but it was turned toward the road this time, in strike position. We kept our distance and there was no incident, but I ...

  This advice from Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s mother gripped me. GINSBURG: She said two things. Be a lady, be independent.  Be a lady meant don’t give way to emotions that zap your energy, like anger. Take a deep breath and speak calmly. I am 44 years old. I have wrestled with the weakness of “giving way to emotions” all my life. I have learned the value of not giving a rash response to a heated    situation, but I have not always been quick to practice that lesson. I have learned to absorb metaphorical hard hits, but the stream of hostility that comes from my mouth when I recount the story is quite another issue altogether.  “Take a deep breath and speak calmly.” What an incredible bit of wisdom to pass down from generation to generation. We are so fueled by emotions that zap our energy that we’ve lost the awareness of saving our energy for productivity. Can you imagine, if the women in our country would take these words to heart what a different environment it woul...

On Saturday we laid my sweet Uncle Bubba to rest. He was cremated and sealed in an urn until the time came to put him in the ground. After an intimate service full of good memories that made us laugh and cry, we all drove out to the cemetery for the graveside.   There was quiet conversation as we congregated around a square hole in the ground waiting for the burial. The wind was cool and the sun was tucked politely behind an overcast sky. It was perfect.  The metal box that would encase the urn was delivered to the plot, and shortly after, the urn was placed carefully into the box. A hush fell over everyone as my cousin Billy placed the lid over Bubba’s ashes and tightened it down with screws. He struggled with the precarious task of placing the box into the deep hole, but he was gracious and diligent, and managed to place it gently on the ground at the bottom of the hole.  My Uncle Jeff was holding a shovel and moved toward a mound of loose dirt when a sweet little voice...

  Yesterday morning I flew out of bed in a hurry and raced through the day, flitting from here to there, getting things done before leaving town for the funeral. When we arrived, I was surrounded by people in my family that I haven’t seen in years. I wanted to hug everyone and kiss all the babies and hear everything and not miss out on anything, but I was moving too fast and couldn’t slow down. While I was snapping a selfie with my long-lost cousin, I noticed that my face was flushed. I was laughing too loudly. Smiling too intensely. Talking endlessly in a fevered pitch that climbed higher and higher. I couldn’t slow down and just enjoy being with my people and catching up on their stories.  I’m always doing. Even in the car when I’m driving, I am making lists, writing memos, practicing speeches. I have lost the ability to be at rest. I don’t know what to do about it. It feels like a sickness. Always working, never accomplishing. I secretly believe that it is one of my strengt...