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Saturday, April 27, 2013

we washed his feet

oh, my darling.

i haven't held your feet in my hands in years.

our little daughter suggested this...this foot-washing...this loving and cleaning and rubbing of your feet...

so we made a little play out of it and did a 'foot-spa' for daddy.

and i hold these precious feet in my hands, looking hard at the callouses, the lines, the veins, the toenails that have thickened and broken as you've aged.

i know where these feet have been.

they have been on the mountains, proclaiming good news.

they have spent months out of the year on airplanes.

they have ridden motorcycles in the traffic for hours to save time and gas money as you go back and forth to the church.

they've walked and walked and walked, as you push yourself to exercise and stay healthy for the sake of your family and your little girl.

these feet have not always had good footwear. your shoes were too small when you were young, and so there are crooked places where the growing bones were forced to compromise in a cramped space.

there are cracks between your toes, and you're surprised when i say, 'sweetheart, you've got athlete's foot!'

we treat it with a warm vinegar soak, then we let these precious feet linger in a bubble bath.

then we gently pat them dry, girlie's little hands so gentle, gentle with you...

and rub on the best lotion we have- over the veins, right up to your knees, over the strong long muscles of your lean legs.

our daddy's feet. we washed them. because we love him.

"how beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news..."

Thursday, April 25, 2013


caught between the golden moon and the pink thunderclouds backlit with flashes of lightning
we lay on our backs 
and the west wind blew soft for the first time this season
soft and warm
in the moonlight
we lay together
arms and legs all entangled 
and laughing at the dog 
who licked our ears
because he too was happy
in the beauty of the moment
caught between the thunderclouds
and the golden moon

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

i stumbled across it on the internet a couple of years ago- a blog by a fellow canadian woman, a mother and wife and farmer (!)...and my life was changed.

ann voskamp opened up her heart and told her story, and the world was impacted.

she told of pain transformed into purpose.

of anguish changing into joy.

of depression and phobias being enemies that she slays daily.

her book is a best-seller, but ann remains a humble, sweet, surprised lady who just speaks her heart pretty much every day on the interwebs. she shares that she doesn't have it all together. she's broken, but she's grateful.

i've learned much from her, most of it reinforcing what i already knew and had sort of forgotten.

be thankful.

be grateful.

we used to sing an old hymn, back in the day..."count your many blessings, see what God has done..."

so i count them, along with ann.

each day there is something i've overlooked, something i've forgotten to be grateful for. my gratitude journal fills up as i write them down, just a few each day. there are so many.

i complain much less now.

i see things differently.

when you say "thank you" to God 1,000 times, things change.

Saturday, April 6, 2013


brown grass parched and dying

in the heat of the high-noon sun

dogs panting in shade

trees reaching down deep for water

not a breath of wind

just the empty air

streets filled with smoking cars

airconditioners frantically whirring

the city burns itself up

in summertime