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Come Saturday Morning

“Come and have breakfast.” It’s the resurrected Jesus inviting St. Peter to enjoy a morning meal. The sentiment frames my Saturday morning story, about a wild but winning neighbor girl with special needs—as impetuous as Peter—who barged into my life and heart. About five years ago, our breakfast routine started with her kicking at the...

When You Run on Empty

“No thanks, I got this.” Like a child learning to do things independently, I often push aside the ways of God in preference for my own. Though I may not say these words directly, my actions convey the thought in principle. I want to do it all. I tend to want God’s help only when...

Making Peace With the Girl You Don’t Like

The year I turned five was the year I learned how to ride a bicycle all on my own. It was also the same time I learned how to hide parts of myself to be the girl people liked. I got pretty good at both of these things as the years wore on. A dirt-kneed and free-spirited child, my hair was forever a wild pile of unkempt hay. While I...

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Come Saturday Morning

“Come and have breakfast.” It’s the resurrected Jesus inviting St. Peter to enjoy a morning meal. The sentiment frames my Saturday morning story, about a wild but winning neighbor girl with special needs—as impetuous as Peter—who barged into my life and heart. About five years ago, our breakfast routine started with her kicking at the door and yelling “Senorita!” through the mail slot, her plate in hand—tortillas and crème fraiche—persuasively...

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The Bountiful Feast

“Is anyone joining us tonight?” she asks as she counts the plates for dinner. The fact that she doesn’t know this answer points to the varying numbers that gather around our little faux wood dining set. “Just us tonight,” I say, and flip another tortilla in the cast iron pan. There’s a stack of 15 tortillas on the plate and I’ve rolled out the last one. We won’t eat 16...

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Slow Chewing And Small Sips: The Beauty Of Small Gifts

I have missed more than one rich moment to view life through a wild kaleidoscope lens, to experience beauty, wonder and awe, to play hostess to the fragrant details of the world. To slow chew, sip, and savor goodness. I have been my own worst enemy. I’ve stuffed the invitation, the one which says “come be dazzled” and “come live lavishly”. The gentle pastel watercolor invitation tossed onto a stack...

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When You Run on Empty

“No thanks, I got this.” Like a child learning to do things independently, I often push aside the ways of God in preference for my own. Though I may not say these words directly, my actions convey the thought in principle. I want to do it all. I tend to want God’s help only when I want and in the way I want it. Every time I run head long into...

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In Which A Meal Is My Only Goal

Life has been a little weird for me. Maybe weird is a bad description? Maybe unstable is better. Maybe for the first time in my life I am truly grappling with those old words from Paul, “For I do not understand what I am doing, because I do not practice what I want to do, but I do what I hate.” Romans 7:15 (HCSB). Is the visceral understanding of these...

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Let You Be Enough

Let you be enough.   There are enough others, people who have skill sets you might wish you held. But, sister, let you be enough.   There are voices in our heads, competing, telling us to become bigger, set a larger table, make more food, do more so they love you more. But, mother, let you be enough.   There are those who say they welcome you to the table; yet, it...

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Take Time to Savor and Be Filled

Sometimes I think my tastebuds have failed me. That in the midst of the everyday I have failed to savor. That the rush and appetites of my life have more to do with frantic filling than with letting the aroma of the good things settle on my tongue and linger.  I bulge at the seams of this overstuffed pace. The frantic tyranny of what must be done. I have never...

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Two Kinds of Lonely

I've allowed a few years to slip by without a proper visit to Mr. Don, our beloved backyard neighbor. The kids have been busy growing as they do between the ages of three and six, and I'm plain worn out come December. At least that has been my excuse.     But not this year. This is the year of no excuses, so we create excuses to go visit our favorite neighbor...

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New In Town

I realized I’d never find the salad tongs. Surrounded by boxes, I flung the thin white paper we’d used to pack our dishes across the kitchen, digging into every tight corner of cardboard to find the missing utensils. This was to be the first night serving dinner on real plates since we’d moved after two weeks of only paper and plastic. I’d bought new taper candles and arranged a fresh...

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