In this strange process of watching my children grow and change, I wish for resilience.
To be resilient – able to withstand or recover quickly from difficult conditions – or – able to spring back into shape after bending, stretching, or being compressed.
It doesn’t come naturally, especially in the moment of change.
I picture a tree growing by the water, bent and bowed and quirky-looking, but still growing and thriving, still providing comfort and shade to those in need.
That’s what I wish I were like. Continue reading
Once upon a time there was a little girl, the fourth of six children, born to a pastor and his wife, a stay-at-home mom and church musician turned transcriptionist when her last child went to kindergarten. Stubborn and bright, this little girl excelled at many things: music, art, school work, and even sword drills at Vacation Bible School. She was well loved and cared for, though sometimes misunderstood and found to be exasperating. Though not overt and probably not even intended, there was an air of legalism and pride in the home. 
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