
Bigger and Better


It happened again.
Children brought hope to my discouraged heart.
Hope in the form of painted rocks.
Painted rocks outside our local elementary school.
Messages of goodness, encouragement and kindness splattered all over simple gray stones.

In “pre-crazy times,” I would have thought, “how cute” and moved on quickly.
Not now. I stopped, savoring each one, breathing a prayer of thanks.
Thanks for each child. Thanks for the purest and simplest of words, designed to breathe life into my disheartened soul.
I needed these rocks. I needed these deliberate acts of kindness from children who decided to take a moment to paint rocks.
I want to be like them when I grow up.

(I asked three of my favorite dads…including my awesome husband…what they learned from being a dad. Here are their responses. They are brilliant.)
(Credit to Glenn Murphy, Allen Goetz and Frank Ellerbusch…Happy Father’s Day to you!)
Baby showers. Hospital rooms. 24-hour deliveries. No sleep. Leaky nursing bra. Baby giggles. Blurry mind. Toothless smiles. Crawling under the crib in the middle of the night for the pacifier. Yellow poop up the back.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Tantrums in grocery stores. Toddler tunes enough to drive a normal person crazy. First full sentences. Bonked heads. Refusals to nap. Go Dog Go. Happy bubble baths. Weird obsessions. Endless hugs.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Play dates. Obnoxious Nick Jr. Skinned knees. Brown play-dough. Playgrounds. Accidents in pants. Too many doctor visits. Smooshy kisses (right on the lips)! Melt-downs. “Parent’s, please stay with your child” birthday parties.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Homework. The car. The car. The car. Class parties. Sidelines and fields. Strange sounds coming from musical instruments. Mom school projects. Fibs. Surprise “I love you” notes. Whining. Lost jackets, mittens, and hats.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Cliques. Hormones. School performance pressure. Spontaneous hugs. Rolling eyes. Good talks in the car, facing forward. Did I say hormones? Budding independence. Dinners on the run. Concerts. Teams. Plays. Try-outs. Rejections. First paid gigs.
I can’t believe this is my life.
First kisses (and second and third). Team dinners. Slammed doors. Missed curfews. Drivers’ licenses. YIKES. Long unprompted talks. Proms. Less and less control. Senior nights. Heartbreaks. Texts not returned for what seems like hours and hours and hours. Real Christmas presents. Car accidents. College apps. Caps flying in the air.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Dorm shopping. Saying goodbye. Endless mom tears. Weeks between texts. WORRY. Weird campus visits. Saying hello. Curfews??? No. Home-cooked food. Yes. Summer job??? Possibly. Up till all weird hours. Yes. Dirty dishes. Yes. Family. Saying goodbye again. Less mom tears. More mom relief. REPEAT for four years.
I can’t believe this is my life.
First jobs. W2s. Uhauls. “Adulting.” Used car lots. Uhauls. Sincere and heart-felt “thank you moms.” Heated conversations about world events. Tearful hugs goodbye. Zoom family game nights. Did I mention Uhauls? Mother’s Day flowers from afar. Wedding planning. Real friendship. Grandpuppies. Precious and fleeting moments “ALL TOGETHER.” Yup. Uhauls.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Baby showers. Hospital rooms. 24-hour deliveries. Baby giggles. Toothless smiles. After-bath smells. Snuggles and kisses. Toddler tantrums. Excitement over Mommy’s old Fisher Price school bus. Go Dog Go. Sad “see you soons.” Facetime laughter. “I love you the most, Mema.” Happiest hugs hello.
YUP. I can’t believe this is my life.
BUT I COULDN’T BE MORE GRATEFUL THAT IT IS.
AND THERE IS STILL MORE TO COME.
“The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside by a generous hand. But- and this is the point- who gets excited by a mere penny?” (Annie Dillard)
My husband hatched a plan at dinner one night many moons ago. He had been reading Annie Dillard’s book, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, and was captivated by an anecdote about a game she played during childhood. She tells how she hid her own “precious penn(ies)” in nooks or crannies in trees or sidewalks, drawing chalk arrows to them so a stranger would find the surprise penny and pick it up. Many times, she would lie in wait to catch a glimpse of the excitement in the finder’s eyes.
Dillard reminds us that, just like her game, there are “unwrapped gifts and free surprises” straight from the heart of God, just waiting for us if we open our eyes to see them. Our family mission was born: find these pennies every day and tell us about them at dinner.
What started as a conversation starter for the table ended up literally changing our lives. Each one of us searched and found many things each day that we believed were “strewn by the generous hand” of God Himself, “surprises” just for us He had hidden along the path, many times with “big arrows” signaling where we might discover them. We had things like flowers, actual pennies, frogs, the best parking space at the mall on a rainy day, butterflies, a kind word from someone, a goal scored on the soccer or field hockey field, etc. Sometimes, we would joke that what we had been given was a “nickel,” a “dime” or even a “quarter,” depending on the magnitude of what it meant to us.
My life (and mostly my head) is filled with negativity from the news, struggles in my home, animosity on social media, work-place uncertainty, sickness and even the death of those I love, all things that consume me by what’s wrong with the world instead of what’s right. Truth be told, doubts creep in about this God and I question if His love and care for me and this beautiful, but hurting planet.
Sticking my head in the sand and pretending the “bad” does not exist is NOT a good idea, but being swallowed up by it is worse. I am wise to navigate the tension between the bitter and the sweet of life, allowing them to sit side-by-side, both having their rightful place in my day, compassion rising within me in the bitter and joy enveloping my heart in the sweet.
I would still venture to say, however, that I don’t have to look very far to see the bitter. I am bombarded from sun up until sun down. I must open my eyes to search for the sweet, find it, and name it. Those “pennies” are just what I need. They quiet those doubts and remind me of a God who is fully alive and loves little old me, a God who has put special pennies all throughout my day, surprise “pennies hidden” just for me.
“As you go through this day, look for tiny treasures from God that have been strategically placed along the way. God lovingly goes before you and plants little pleasures to brighten your day. Look carefully for them and pluck them one by one. When you reach the end of your day, you will have gathered a really nice bouquet.” (Sarah Young)
From my heart to yours.
P.S. My penny already this morning was the sun streaking through my window, casting its rays across the floor. How about you? Any pennies?
I’m headed to a place this morning where pain is shared, joy is celebrated, grace is abundant, hope is plentiful and love looms large.
This is a place I can’t live without. Everyone should have one of these.
It’s my refuge, my anchor, my lifeline.
You see, where I’m going, there’s…
…one who is wisdom that makes my “self” smart.
…one who is joy that brings a laugh to my heart.
…one who is gentleness that reaches deep in my soul.
…one who is peace that guides me to be whole.
…one who is light that counsels my spirit to shine.
…one who is faithfulness that connects me to the “Vine.”
…one who is grace that keeps me looking “Up.”
…one who is generosity that fills up my cup.
…one who is goodness to help me feel truly blessed.
…one who is kindness that allows my spirit to rest.
This place is going to look a little different this morning, but it’s going to feel exactly the same. Warm. Safe. Love. A Beautiful Mess (#ourfancygroupname).
This morning, we will share our pain, celebrate our joy, grant grace in abundance, muster our hope, and lavish our love.
I can’t wait.
P.S. There are some who have scattered and I miss you terribly. You will always belong to us. Never forget that. You are light and love and hope and joy and peace right where you are today.
I arise today
Through the strength of heaven;
Light of the sun,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of the wind,
Depth of the sea,
Stability of the earth,
Firmness of the rock.
I arise today
Through God’s strength to pilot me;
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me,
God’s shield to protect me,
God’s hosts to save me
Afar and anear,
Alone or in a multitude.
Christ shield me today
Against wounding
Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.
I arise today
Through the mighty strength
Of the Lord of creation.
–St. Patrick’s Breastplate–
Dear Brand-Spanking-New Mama,
Today has changed your life forever. You will never be the same. Your beautiful baby girl has been born.
Feelings have bubbled to the surface that you didn’t even know existed, the very first being
LOVE unimaginable, unexplainable.
But I can promise you that won’t be the only one. You’ll be pummeled by ALL. THE. FEELINGS. every day for the rest of your life.
FEAR that your house will catch on fire or that no one will invite your new 5th grader to sit with them on the bus.
LONELINESS in the middle of a room full of other moms or in the middle of a sleepless night.
CONFUSION about how to feed your baby the right food or feed yourself the best information.
JOY over the first wobbly steps taken across the family room or the last confident steps taken across the graduation stage.
ANGER at the unfair teacher, your sassy toddler, her phone, your out-of-control self, the mean girl at lunch, every form of consuming media, the unhelpful doctor, on and on and on.
GUILT about not being enough or being too much.
SADNESS when the bus pulls away with your kindergartener or when your teen pushes you away, leaving you a heap on his bedroom floor.
THANKFUL for the smile laced across your middle-schooler’s face at the Holiday Chorus concert or the smile on your bride-daughter’s face as she dances with her groom.
28 years later, you will be in the middle of a three-way kiss between your baby and her baby, and that very first feeling,
LOVE, unimaginable, unexplainable,
will swallow up all the others, multiplying itself once again, which you never thought possible.
From my heart to yours,
Filled-to-the-brim-with-love, Old Mama