It’s Just Chicken!

Sometimes, we need to pause and remind ourselves, “It’s just chicken!”

Weary from the hours of driving, we pulled into the parking lot.  The endless miles of bland New Mexico landscape enhanced our felt need for a break in our journey.  After counting down the miles until lunchtime, we chose one of those dual service fast food joints – in this case, a Fried Chicken/Mexican Food half-breed.  I mindless pondered why anyone would try to integrate the two varieties while my children to battled their way out of the travel-laden minivan.

What’s the Rush?

I had an unexpectedly late start to the airport.  It’s Saturday afternoon and I am in a hurry to return home so that I can celebrate Easter and my youngest daughter’s birthday with my family.  True to characterization, I am verbally coaxing the driver’s around me to move faster or move out of the way.  Don’t any of these people have someplace to go?  By the way they are driving, you’d think they had nothing better to do today than impede my progress.

Epoxy for the Heart

My preteen and I just returned from a Mom/Daughter Conference in Katy, TX.  The one-day event was titled You and Your Girl featuring Author/Speaker Vicky Courtney from Virtuous Reality, a ministry dedicated to promoting and preserving the virtue of teen and young girls.  Although my own girl was initially apprehensive about a weekend of lectures and intentional bonding, she was won over by a hotel slumber party with her friends and the opportunity to meet Singer/Songwriter Lindsay Kane.  It turned out to be a great weekend of fun, fashion, and forming foundations!

Vicky Courtney spoke on such topics as Guarding Your Heart, Putting the Brakes on the Rush to Grow Up, and The Top Three Lies About Beauty. 

Gifts Without Measure

One of my fondest  love languages is “gift-giving”.  I cherish even the smallest item received from a friend and I spend countless hours selecting the perfect gift when shopping for someone else.  In case you are unfamiliar with Gary Chapman‘s concept of “love languages”, a love language is a preferred method of expressing and receiving love.  We each have a method that is more meaningful to us than any other.  For me, exchanging gifts has significance that inexplicably transcends the exterior token.

A Penny for Your Thoughts? But It May Cost You More . . .

If I have a friend who’s thinking is skewed, how much responsibility do I embrace in helping her see the incongruities of her thought process?  One conversation?  Two?  Twenty?  How far do I pursue my argument to help her recognize her blind spots?

Being vs. Doing

I am sitting on an airplane, physically and emotionally spent, returning home from the hospital bedside of my father.  After a week in the cardiac wing, he will be released within the next few days.  But we are far from sure that he leaves with hopes of better health.  My brother will stay behind to assure he adjusts to home life and a new medical regiment and diet while I fly home to wait, pray, and care for my family.  As I stare out the window at the passing clouds, I don’t know if this is a new beginning or the beginning of the end.

Just a Man

Over the Christmas holiday, my family and I traveled to see my father at his home in Missouri.  At 82, my Dad has his share of health issues.  But, more notably, he has accumulated a variety of battle scars from the journey that has been his life.  No one reaches 82 without a few.

As I think back on my childhood, I realize that I had all the typical grand expectations that any girl does of her father.  “Father,” in my head, was synonymous with Prince Charming, Knight in Shining Armor, Super-Powered Hero, and Noble King – all rolled together.  You can imagine my dad didn’t live up to those expectations over time.  What dad could?

A Decision of Trust

I was attempting a left-hand turn onto a busy thoroughfare without a traffic signal.

As traffic whizzes by at 50 miles per hour, I ask myself what I was thinking.  My saving grace: a center lane dividing the cross-traffic that might act as a temporary haven before I fully merge.  Time for a plan.  If I could make it to that center lane without being T-boned or cut off by drivers accessing that lane for their own purposes, I might have a chance of making it home in decent time.

I see an open opportunity from the left and pull quickly to the center lane.  Safe . . . for the moment.  Now I need to gauge the traffic coming behind and to my right while watching the traffic ahead in order to merge without being hit or rear ending someone else.  As I watch my mirrors, searching for a gap, a semi-truck flashes his headlights signaling that it is OK to pull in front of him.  I thought the choices I had made this far were challenging.  Now I am faced with another, a decision of trust . . . .