Monday's Musings - Books Beside my Bed....

 This is a random Monday's Musings - a  2 for 1 as it incorporates the book themes I usually reserve for "Wednesday Book Reviews."   Not that I am consistent with either one of these self-made blog categories - Monday's Musings or Wednesday Book Reviews.  But I'm not going to be too hard on myself...

For this installment of Monday's Musings I would like to share with you a few books I am currently reading or planning to read in the near future (near future being a relative term that could mean one month or one year from now).  Books on the top of my reading list are transferred from the bookshelf to the basket beside my bed as pictured above.  This "basket" resembles the Leaning Tower of Pisa and completely stresses out my Type A hubby. 

In addition to books, this tower is supported by 4 different writing journals, Writer's Digest magazines, a Christianity Today article a teacher copied for Tony and me over a year ago (hello, time to read it), Vincent's baby book for recording random milestones and memories, a precious resource from our church titled "What Does God Look Like? and Other Questions Preschoolers May Ask" by Alison Ozment, our Sunday School Curriculum with over a million dog ears and highlights, Boden and miniBoden catalogs (have you discovered this clothing company - LOVE, LOVE, LOVE their children and women's lines!), a one year birthday card for a friend's little girl who will be turning 2 in six months (whoops - that one's a little late), a brown paper Whole Foods bag filled with cards the kiddos made that I need to send off to the grandparents, and let's not forget the archaic address book (at some point I will join the 21st century and go digital with my addresses).  Oh, and correspondence cards and stationary boxes - because as you can see, I am super timely with correspondence :).....

I'm aware that this post is beginning to read like tedious Facebook status updates of what's for lunch and dinner.  So on to books... 

 

 {Tony and I bought this trio of books last Sunday after we attended a parenting seminar by the three authors, Sissy Goff, Melissa Trevathan, and David Thomas.  They are from DayStar Counseling in Nashville TN and if you have the chance to hear them speak - GO :).  Looking forward to reading these over the next year.}

{Each month the ladies in our Sunday School get together for dinner and book club.  In November we read Ruthless Trust by Brennan Manning.  I'm hoping to write a little book review here on the blog about it - very moving book.  Ragamuffin Gospel was written prior to Ruthless Trust and it's on my list to read and in my tower.}

{This book is compiled by Elisa Morgan and published by MOPS International.  This was a gift from our church to our family in celebration of Sophia's birth.  It has stayed in the basket since her birth as I frequently pick through the pages for encouraging words, beautiful poems, and lovely stories of motherhood.}

{I found this little jewel in a used book store in Bryson, NC.  I paid $4 and see that on Amazon you can buy it for $0.03 - quite the markdown!  Tony and I have a long history with used book stores - I could recount the stages of our marriage by describing the used book stores we've found and loved through the years.  I digress.  This book is written by Ruth Bell Graham (Billy Graham's wife) and Gigi Graham Tchividjian, her daughter.  I am savoring this book page by page, taking my time, underlining their nuggets of wisdom as I need them.  One of my favorite quotes so far is from Ruth Bell Graham in a journal entry she wrote in 1944.  Her doctor had just informed her that she and Billy would be unable to have children (the doctor was mistaken - they went on to have 5 children :)).  In reaction to the news she wrote, "Somehow it's easier to drink the bitter when it's God's hand that holds the cup."  Ruth Bell Graham is a beautiful, poetic writer.}

{I am reading this book for our neighborhood book club.  The irony that this book is stuffed into a leaning tower of chaos is not lost on me.  I have much to learn.}

 {Along with Ruthless Trust this book has remained in the inner circle of my basket because I re-read and quote them so frequently.  You can read my thoughts on Disappointment with God here.}

{Because this is exactly what I want to do someday and I know nothing about it.  Well, I shouldn't say 'nothing.'  I was raised on a dairy - surely that will help?  Looking forward to working my way through this one.}

{My "I want to be a better writer" books.  I have a few others on the bookshelf but these are the 3 chosen for the sacred basket.  I am about 1/2 way through  Anne Lamont's and Lisa Garriguas' books.  Ever read a book by Anne Lamont?  Her writing?!?!?  Wowzers, that's all I have to say.....  Writing Motherhood has provided numerous writing prompts on the subject of motherhood.  If you have any desire to record your journey through motherhood in the written word then I highly recommend this book!  And Elements of Style because I know that to be a good writer I need to read this book, then re-read it, then memorize it.  It's co-written by the same author that wrote Charlotte's Web - E.B. White.  An interesting tidbit because that's all I really know about this book .  I am avoiding it like the plague.  Grammar books remind me of diagramming sentences on the chalk board in middle school.  And that makes me want to crawl under my desk and hide.}

{My current fiction read.  I'm about 50 pages in and it's slow moving folks.  While the themes of immigration and the Indian caste system may stimulate the more sophisticated mind, this mommy of two needs a little more action in her fiction these days.  I have a hard time not finishing a fiction book so I will probably stick it out and will possibly write a review - how's that for non-committal :)}

All images via here.

So, there you have it folks - the contents of my bedside basket.  Although I forgot to mention the Kindle (captured in the first picture - about 12 layers from the top).  The Kindle - the solution to my Leaning Tower of Chaos.  Yet it works its way to the bottom of the basket, time and time again.  I enjoy the feel of pages pressed between my fingers.  I find great satisfaction in impulsively reading the ends to novels when I am only half way done.  Electronic readers rob me of these indulgences. The visual of pages still to read encourages me to persevere in finishing a book.  Skimming back through, finding my favorite quotes, re-reading whole chapters - these tasks are all done with greater ease in a printed book.

So it appears as though the basket is here to stay.  What are you reading these days? Will you give me your suggestions for books to read?  I think the tower has room to grow.  Maybe four more layers?  Maybe six?

Monday's Musings

Meager Offering

Scripture References:  John 6:1-14, Mark 14:1-9

I’m leaving for my Thursday morning writing class, kissing my husband before I walk out the door when Sophia gallops in from the other room.  “Momma, don’t forget your reminder,” she chirps as she extends the dollar store Dora ring she received for her birthday.  “Thanks baby,” I say as I slide it on my pinkie finger.  “A reminder?  What do you mean?” I ask.  “To remind you how much I love you,” Sophia answers matter-of-factly. 

Later that morning, I watch the ring bounce up and down as I type on my computer during writing class.  Dora on a sparkly pink background encircles my pinkie finger next to my engagement ring, a three diamond love offering given over ten years ago.  Two rings.  Two love offerings.  Two sacrificial gifts.  One financially worth far more than the other.  Is the meager, dollar store offering cherished less in my heart?  By no means.  The ring is an unexpected offering given to me by my treasured first-born.  A prized trinket.  The best of what she has.

As I reflect on these two rings placed side by side on my own hand I realize that Sophia has once again taught me of a something deeper.  Something sacred.  Something of my own Father.  When I offer  Him a love gift of my best, which in the scheme of things really only amounts to meager talent, measly funds, and miniscule time – he takes no less pleasure from my dime store offering than he does of the diamond studded sacrifice of another.  I am thankful I serve a God who looks at the heart and is pleased when I give the first-fruits of my labor; when I give the best of what I have, even if my best is “dime store” compared to another’s.  I am thankful I serve a God who values widow’s mites (Luke 21:1-2) as much as he values expensive perfume (Mark 14:1-9).  Who uses a poor boy’s barley loaves and tiny fish for great purposes (John 6:1-14).   Who will use even my mustard seed of faith for His eternal plans (Matthew 17:20).  I am thankful I serve a God who looks upon the heart, not upon the gift.

I wore Sophia’s ring all weekend.  I want her to see that I cherish it.  That her gift is valued.  I wonder if the little boy who offered up his barley loaves and fish in John chapter 6 felt valued at the end of the miraculous feast.  Was he humbled at having been included, noticed, and used by Jesus, God in flesh.  What is my best?  I want to offer it up like a dime store Dora ring.  I want to offer it up as a reminder to God.  A reminder that I love Him…..

Monday's Musings

Red Bird

Scripture Reading:  Psalm 139, Matthew 10:29-31

“Vincent, quick.  Come here!” I scoop my son into my arms; hold him up to see out the window above our kitchen sink.  “A red bird, Vincent.  Do you see?”  His eyes light up as he sees the proud cardinal perched on the milk jug bird feeder only four feet away from the window – the milk jug bird feeder his sister and I made and decorated with washable paint only two week ago – the milk jug bird feeder that is now only a milk jug hanging on a hook because the paint washed off after the first rain. 

As we watch the bird my son grows completely still in my arms.  We quietly observe the cardinal peck the seeds, moving his head skittishly in and out of the feeder.  His back is to us but as he shells the seeds his head darts around to look in our direction.  The cardinal is on alert, trying to determine if we are a threat. 

“Vincent, look!  He’s watching you.  He sees you.”  Vincent’s parted mouth turns upward in an innocent smile as he makes eye contact with the bird.  “Hi Bird!  See Elmo?” he exclaims, thrusting his Elmo doll proudly forward for the bird to see.  In response the cardinal’s crest bristles, showing his alarm at the sudden movement.  Yet he remains perched on the edge of the jug, skittishly pecking at seeds both big and small.  “Red.” Vincent states matter-of-factly.  Vincent is looking at the Elmo doll in his arms and I know he is making the connection that both Elmo and the bird are red.  “Yes Vincent.  Elmo is red and the bird is red.”  We stand silent a few moments longer, studying the cardinal who continues to hop along the edge of the feeder, shooting wary glances in our direction.  “He’s looking at you Vin.  He sees you.”  The grin returns to Vincent’s face as bird and boy become buddies. 

My children delight in the thought that a wild animal sees them.  They derive great pleasure from the idea that an untamed creature, busy in their pursuits, pauses long enough to notice them.  “They find me interesting too?”  “I matter?”  “We are friends?” 

Is not Vincent’s delight in being noticed by the cardinal representative of a desire within all of us?  Do we not all long to be seen?  For our accomplishments to be noted, recorded, delighted in?  For our sorrows to be perceived, felt, mourned over?

Rest assured, He sees you.  He knows the very number of hairs on your head (Matthew 10:30).  He knows your thoughts before you speak them (Psalm 139:2).  He studies you as you study the red bird.  He delights in you.  Sings over you (Zephaniah 3:17).  Rejoices in you.    You are of utmost significance in His eyes for He created you, died for you, and longs for you for all of eternity (1  John 3:9).

And surely when you are suffering, His eyes never wonder.  You are the widow in the crowd (Luke 7:11-15).  You are Hagar in the desert (Genesis 16:13).  He is the God that sees you in your trials. 

The bird, surely overstuffed by now, flies away and we grow distracted by the morning routine.  But it lingers all day, the assurance that we are indeed seen. 

Monday's Musings

Country Feet

He inspects the bottom of my feet, cautiously touching the rough bunyans and calloused soles.  I’m pleased with myself because I didn’t wear my stinky shoes today, a lesson learned at the last dermatologist visit.  Yet, he seems bothered by my feet and spends entirely too long touching them.  Such exposure - this full body melanoma check and I’m ready for him to stand up straight and stop staring at my feet.  “Your feet have quite a few calluses. Did you have an injury to your foot?”  His face is all concern.

Well let’s see.  Is walking around a dairy farm, on gravel roads considered an injury?  Is climbing trees barefoot, gripping the limbs with my toes an offense?  Pedaling a bike barefoot?  Walking across grass, acorns, pebbles, pine needles to retrieve the mail? 

“No, no,” I respond.  “Just due for a pedicure,”  I say lightheartedly.  I look him in the eye knowing full well I will not be getting a pedicure anytime soon.  They’re expensive and I would rather sit in a coffee shop and read a book without fearing it will fall into a tub of water.

I recount the story to my husband later that night and we laugh about the doctor’s concern.  “Did you tell him you’re a country girl?”  We laugh again and I glance down at his feet.  Feet of a bare chested little boy standing beside his brother, painted with mud head to toe.  Indians roaming the country land in nothing but their underwear.  Sword fights with cacti.  Territories marked off by trees.  Hours upon hours of freedom.  Creativity alive.

Now firmly planted in the “city” I try to regain the feel of grass underfoot and frequently walk down to the mailbox barefoot.  My children accompany me, also sans shoes.  I’m sure others disapprove.  They might step on glass or a stickerburr or a bug.  OR they might feel the joy of fresh, cool mud between the toes, slippery grass beneath their soles, rough pavement building up tolerance. 

I like to tell the story of my dermatologist visit to my mother and grandparents.  They understand the significance and laugh along with me.  But underneath that laughter is pride.  I’m glad my feet are rough to the touch, calloused, hardened in use.  They’re a symbol of my freedom, my childhood joy, my triumph through pain, my heritage.  For you see, in my heart I’m a proud country girl and my feet speak of this truth.



Monday's Musings

Significance

{Scripture Readings: 1 Corinthians 12:12-26, Ephesians 2:10}

His name is David.  Each morning he dresses in one of two pairs of pants, both varying shades of khaki.  He dons his company shirt and heads out the door by 7:30, thermal mug of coffee in one hand, loose work orders in the other.  David enjoys his technical work as a copy machine repairman.  He finds the solidarity and predictability of his job comforting.  Xerox, Cannon, Toshiba?  For David, there’s no difference.  All industrial copiers are the same.  Doors snap gently into place.  Gears grip one another at predictable rates and the glass has measured increments.  Problems inevitably arise but every problem has a solution.  When he gingerly opens each door, cautiously turns each gear.  When he silently crouches by the exit tray, tenderly rubs a finger along each roller.  When he is patient.  This is when he finds the solution.

 Today David’s first stop is a small, but growing company in the field of Financial Services.  PaymentsPlus++ provides payment processing services to local restaurants and retailers.  The company owns only two copiers, both Xerox.  Both previously owned.  Both heavily used.  This is not David’s first visit but he walks in unnoticed, his cushioned shoes silent on the tile floor.  He bothers no one with questions or concerns.  As he crouches in his repair he notices their shiny leather shoes tap and shuffle impatiently.  Yet he continues on, undisturbed by their inconvenience.  He finishes in record time, pats the lid of the copier, and heads toward the exit.  He walks slowly, wiping grease off his hands with the rag from his pocket.  David notices their shiny suits.  Hears their noisy heels.  Feels their anxious deadlines.  As he opens the EXIT door he turns to see a long line forming at the newly repaired copier.  Job well done.

One day David did not show for work.  His soft soled shoes and quiet demeanor were at a hospital on the other side of town, next to his wife and their new baby girl.  Unfortunately on the day of his absence both copiers at Payments Plus++ went kaput.  A substitute repairman was sent from David’s company but he sweated profusely, dropped tools, and worked painfully slow.  So slow in fact, that Jill from Sales was unable to make copies for her meeting with three potential restaurant clients.  Richard from Marketing needed copies of their new ad campaign by 11:00.  One look at the repairman and his heart sank.  Accounting needed multiple copies of the month’s expense reports.  Where was the usual repairman?  What was his name again?  Why was this new guy taking so long and why did he look so petrified?

For you see when David went missing, (the David no one ever seemed to notice before) everyone suddenly understood his value.  His skills, his talents, his demeanor; previously unnoticed, were now prized in his absence.  No one fixed a copier in the same way David did. 

I wonder who you relate to in this story.  Are you a David?  Someone whose spiritual gifts and talents may seem ordinary upon first inspection (1 Corinthians 12:22-23) but are actually of great importance.  Or are you clothed in a shiny suit of gifts?  Gifts that thrust you into the limelight.  Prestigious gifts that never go unnoticed.  Whether you are a David or a shiny suit, know that you are of great significance in the work of the church.  God specifically designed you and placed you in His church for a purpose.  Just as the office was less effective without David, so the church would suffer without your gifts.  Every one of us, both the Davids and the shiny suits, has a specific work to do (Ephesians 2:10) in reaching our goal of glorifying the name of Christ.  Yet it is the Davids that feel invisible at times.  Today let’s listen for their soft soled presence.  Let’s acknowledge them for they are of great worth in His eyes (1 Corinthians 12:22).

Monday's Musings

A Mother's Purse

One of my primary responsibilities as a child sitting in the passenger seat of our Ruby Red Suburban, besides corralling the stray Diet Coke cans so they didn't fall out when I opened the door, was to locate objects in my mother's purse as she drove.  I loathed this task as my mother's purse was always a jumble of gum wrappers, stray post-its, lipstick, and loose credit cards.  Searching for a pen in the abyss of my mother's purse seemed to take ions.  

So you can imagine my shock when I last emptied the contents of my purse onto the table:

It appears as though I practiced juvenile naivety in judging my mother's purse, not understanding that someday I would lug around inexplicable chaos of my own.  Study the photograph above for the contents are rather telling of this stage of life.  Let me highlight a few of the absurdities you will find on closer inspection:

•  Assortment of Small Toys:  Useful for entertaining children strapped in a shopping cart, in their car seats at a stoplight, or while waiting at the doctor's office.  They also serve as cheap, plastic reminders that although I fancy myself a foodie, we eat at McDonalds frequently enough to warrant disqualification.
• Mini-Sticker Pad - A gift for the kiddos from a sweet lady at church.  Recently while dining out the kiddos used these stickers to decorate their Styrofoam cups.  They were entertained for at least 15 minutes - a record for my little ones.
• Mother's Notebook - A constant as writing is a passion and thoughts must be trapped on paper before they fly away. 
• Small Blue Notebook - for jotting down random numbers, grocery lists, and titles of books I wish to read
• Stray Sock - Origin unclear.  It is dirty so I it probably entered my purse when I picked it up from outside.  It is a size 6 months so it either sat in the flower bed for over a year and a half OR has managed to hang out in the bottom of my purse for all that time.
• A Lump of Coal - Don't believe me?  Look closer.  It's the round black thing.  It's origin most likely the Cahaba River Valley where we recently traveled to see the Cahaba Lilies.  Vincent loves to bring me rock treasures like the neighborhood cat loves to bring us his most recent killing, laying it on the front doorstep to be discovered as we walk out the front door to retrieve the mail. 
• 7 Good and Perfect Gifts Booklet - An attempt to capture the small gifts God sends everyday.  Concept and booklet from this beautiful lady.
• Inhaler - I'm an asthmatic.  Diagnosed at the age of twelve, my asthma is exacerbated by exercise and allergies.  I rarely use it anymore because A: The move from Texas improved my allergies and B:  I rarely workout (my lungs thank me, my tummy does not)....
• Stray Headband - Because Sophia never wears them for long but this fact does not dissuade me from putting them in her hair everyday.
• Checkbook - I think only mothers and elderly people carry around checkbooks anymore.  Needed when writing tuition for gymnastics and paying for class portraits.
• Small Bag of Lipsticks - For the two days a week I remember to put it on...
• Billfold - Carries an innumerable "buy 6 ice creams/coffees/smoothies and get the 7th one free" cards.  Also, membership cards to professional organizations and community pools and my blood type card, just in case.

What you WILL NOT find:

• Hand Sanitizer - This may qualify me for "worst mother of the year" award.  No excuses here.  It just never seems to make it in the purse.  Recent studies have shown that over-use of hand sanitizer is harmful to our health long-term.  Well, that's what I will tell you when you ask if I have any on our playdate.  Quoting this obscure study makes me feel better about my negligence.
• Sunglasses - Most likely under the car seat or in the linens drawer, placed there by one of my children and re-discovered when I set out the place mats for dinner.
• An iPhone - Hint, hint
• Empty Diet Coke cans - because they plagued my childhood.  Love you mom!

I hope by opening my purse and laying out its chaotic contents for all to see I have made you feel somewhat better about the stray candy wrappers in your purse.  The inside of a mother's purse is rarely a pretty sight.  Yet, there is blessing in the chaos for the chaos is but a reminder of the living, breathing, beautiful lives that surround us.  Dig deep and you will find treasure - her bracelet, his rock, her artwork, his car.  Treasures and blessing in the chaos - this is a mother's purse.

Monday's Musings

Helpless

Scripture Reading:  Ezekiel 16:1-14

I sit in the backseat, still sporting the maternity clothes, my newborn baby girl beside me in her car seat.  No doubt she’s screaming, the acid reflux unknown to the newbie parents, working its way up her delicate throat causing her to cry most hours of the day.  The in-laws are up front and we are driving around Homewood, picking up newborn necessities.  As we pass the Starbucks, I timidly ask from the backseat to be let out to buy a latte.  A grande non-fat sugar free vanilla latte to be exact.  In purchasing this cozy drink I will engage in ritual making things appear normal again, not this foreign, newborn colic, sleep deprived new mommy world I’m currently experiencing.  My father-in-law pulls over on the side of the road opposite Starbucks and I jump out, readying myself for the familiar scent of coffee brewing and the noise of milk frothing when I hesitate for just one moment.  Freeze in my tracks before crossing the street.  What if a car speeds around the corner and I get hit?  How will she eat?  She’ll starve.  She needs me!  Mother’s instinct.  I glance in the backseat and then make a run for it.  There’s formula, for goodness sakes.  I’m just getting a coffee, not abandoning her to wolves.  But it’s there, the instinctual mother drive to protect my helpless one, my newborn baby girl.

When I open my Bible to read Ezekiel 16 I find an analogous instinct.  Yet this is no imagined scenario of a sleep deprived mommy.   The circumstances are desperate, the story grim, and the threat genuine.  There’s a newborn baby but this baby is abandoned, lying in a pool of its own blood, left to die in an open field.  Though it kicks and cries desperately, no one has compassion on this precious life.  The wretched babies’ circumstances are hopeless.  She can do nothing to help herself and there’s not much time left.  Then He passes by.  He sees her and does what she could not do for herself, He saves her.  Scoops her up.  Breathes life into her.  Wills her to live.  And because her Savior is the Creator God of the world and because He loves her, He lavishes her with riches, splendor, and beauty (Ezekiel 16).

That newborn babe lying abandoned in an open field?  Covered in its own blood?  Flailing and kicking in horrendous circumstances?  That newborn baby is you and me, our spiritual condition no better off than her desperate plight (Romans 6:23, Ephesians 2:1).  Praise God that He passes by and sees us in our helpless state (Romans 5:6-8)!  If we allow Him, He will breathe life into us (Romans 4:17b), purify us from our bloody, sinful state (1 John 1:9, Titus 3:4), and will walk alongside us to the end of our days (Matthew 28:20).  Even though I am confident I belong to Him (Galatians 4:6-7) and that He chose me (Ephesians 1:4-5), I still fall prey to feelings of helplessness (enter ludicrous fear of latte induced starvation of newborn) and sins that threaten to entangle.  When feeling feeble I will call on Him.  For you see, He is “the Lord, my God, who takes hold of my right hand and says to me, Do not fear; I will help you. (Isaiah 41:13).”  I may be helpless, but He’s more than enough for me (1 Corinthians 1:27-31, Philippians 3:8).



The Days I Am Most Productive....

Are the days I never get out of my pajamas.

Is this also true for you or am I the only one still in my pjs at 2 p.m. doing laundry and organizing bookshelves? 

I returned from our Texas trip at the beginning of August with a fire in my belly to get my house organized! Maybe it was the "four years of owning this house itch" or the nasty stain on Sophia's rocker, either way I stayed in my pajamas for about a week scrubbing upholstery, treating carpet stains, and reorganizing the kiddo's books and toys.  I was a woman possessed.

Now with school back in session and fall around the bend, I find myself making schedules in my mommy notebook in an attempt to keep productivity high.  Bible Study Fellowship starts back in September and Kindermusik next week.  Thursdays are errand days and Mondays laundry day.  Fridays are for playdates and Sundays for church.  The days are filling up and the summer slipping away.  When caught in the hustle and bustle of scheduling each moment I forget that moments won't last. 

But that is a truth about life, it's fleeting and schedules only help us make the most of every moment.  So I will continue to schedule away.  Except Saturdays and Sunday afternoons.  Those are for spontaneity - don't you think?  Those are the fishing trips, the naps, the walks around the neighborhood.  The ice cream store.  The backyard reading.  The picnics.  Those are the moments of refreshment capable of fueling us for the scheduled week ahead.

{Saturday morning Farmer's Market}

As I schedule, plan, and set goals for the fall I am intentionally carving out more time to write; both here on the blog and in a few other arenas.  I will share a little secret with you.  I LOVE to write.  From the time I learned to form letters with my hands and string them together creating words in my mind, I've had a passion for the written word.  I'm an ardent reader and a clandestine writer.  Clandestine until just recently when my husband blew my cover by signing me up for a writing class for my 31st birthday.  Always my biggest supporter, he convinced me to get serious and intentional with my writing.  His encouraging words along with friend's and family's sent me timidly into my first writing class last Spring.  Convinced the class participants would throw me out after my first reading I began to develop a new identity as a writer when they shockingly validated my words.  I am prayerfully embarking on this journey while claiming this scripture, "Take delight in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart. (Psalm 37:4)."  May my writing glorify Him and accomplish His purposes for my life...

On that note I want to introduce you to what I hope will be a regular feature here on Knit Together:  "Monday's Musings."  Each Monday I will muse aloud about God.  His Word.  His work.  His people.  I possess no special training that qualifies me to muse except that I'm His.  And I'm curious.  And I love to write.  And I hope to bless.  Encourage.  I hope you will muse right along with me in your comments, blogs, and e-mails.  Not every entry of "Monday's Musings" will be about faith.  They may be as random as random can be because sometimes my musings are just that:  random. 

"Monday's Musings."  Look for them this Monday.  Oh, and if you are in the neighborhood and knock on my door, please understand that it may take awhile for me to answer.  With all this writing, cleaning, and scheduled productivity, you may have caught me in my pjs....