Mothers and Teachers and Rosebushes

Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.

—Psalm 25:4-5 

“Tell me the best part and the worst part of your day,” I introduced the favorite mealtime ritual that invited my children to share.  

One by one they described the highs and lows of their day, which opened the door to meaningful conversation and opportunities to encourage and praise and counsel. 

Years have passed since that time, and I have to admit I miss those days. I miss mothering—and I miss those faces that circled my table. 

Last night I went to dinner with a friend and engaged him in the high-low conversation. I listened as he described his “low” part of the day that occurred at work. In the end the “low” became a “high” and I concurred that he did the right thing. Then the tables were turned (no pun intended…well, maybe), and it was my turn to share. 

My Most Romantic Valentine

A little deviation from my usual post...

I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.

—Song of Solomon 6:3 

“Really? But I’m trying to write my blog post.” Still in my pajamas and propped up on pillows, I hammer away at the keyboard—in between checking Facebook, of course. I read my friends’ posts and like their Valentine’s pictures.

“Shut it down. Let’s go for a walk.”

“Huh?  It’s 8:30 in the morning.”

“Put your sneakers on.”

“But what about my sprain?  The doctor said…”

“Put your sneakers on.” (Psalm 37:23)

I trust you, so I dress quickly. I slip on my sneakers. Hmm…my foot doesn’t feel too bad. I think I can do this. (Philippians 4:13)

"Could we drive to the dumpster first?" I ask. "I have a pile of junk to get rid of." (Ephesians 4:31)

You smile and nod, as if that were all part of your plan in the first place.

I drive to the barnyard dumpster and am careful to avert the muddy ruts left by those who have been here before. I would hate to get stuck in this mess. Quickly, I throw out a bag of garbage and a box of things that weren't working. Whew!  It feels good to pitch them.

The Handwriting on the Wall

Please note:  The following reference to Mike Shanahan in no way reflects his character or faith.  It is used only for the sake of comparison. 

And the humble He teaches His way. All the paths of the Lord are mercy and truth.

—Psalm 25:9-10 

If I heard it once, I heard it a hundred times. “The handwriting was on the wall.” This is how reporters referred to the firing of Washington Redskins coach Mike Shanahan on Black Monday, the day following the final game of the regular season—the day after his team completed a 3-13 record.

“The handwriting was on the wall.” With a four-season record of 24-40 and rumors flying around about Shanahan’s demise, the coach’s firing came as no surprise to most of the team’s followers.

“The handwriting was on the wall” is a familiar idiom used to mean there were obvious warning signals.  For Shanahan, the numbers on the wall—the scoreboard—were his warnings.