morning song.

It happens every morning. The music is there.

Going to sleep is always challenging for me. Laying down the lists and the thoughts and the ideas and the cares is a slow thing. Some nights are better than others. 

The Lord knows that. And He shows His love in a most special way. He gives me a morning song.

When I wake up, it's there - playing in my head, filling my heart with a soundtrack. The music changes, but the selections are always beautiful. Songs about grace, mercy, forgiveness, joy...the playlist is a sweet gift.

Today's morning song is "I am Set Free" by All Sons & Daughters. Perhaps it can be your morning song too - your soundtrack for this day. 

(musings) crazy people.

The brothers live with their very sick father. Mental illness runs deep in the family.

We were told not to invest much time talking to the man who answered the door - told he was "crazy."

He said God had spoken to him in a dream once. Looking at his eyes, I knew he was telling the truth.

God has spoken to me too. I guess I must be crazy. 

People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed; never throw out anyone. -Audrey Hepburn

Everyone deserves to be told about the beauty of grace and mercy. Everyone needs to be shown love. Even crazy people like you and me. We're all People of the Second Chance. 

destination and the journey.

If I hunger for the destination, may I still enjoy the journey? There is such great beauty in both.

Today I was reminded of the value of gathering soul snapshots of the fleeting moments. The impression of the day may be just as precious the clarity of the instant.

French van. Personalized. We are His hands. 

Late summer bounty. Oh taste and see.

Romanian forest. His ways are life.

Today I was reminded of the value of savoring the breathtaking destination given me. The value of being still after the fleeting moments, of the beautiful collision of impression and clarity.

Sunset. Surduc, Romania.

Shout it, go on and scream it from the mountains. Go on and tell it to the masses. He is God. ~All the Poor and Powerless (All Sons and Daughters)

(musings) a delicate life.

This life itself is but a season, wrapped in seasons. It is a memory book filled with small moments. It is a breath, a fragrance, a song, an ever-so-delicate bloom.

It calls for divine gentleness. 


The Lord expands life to those who love Him. He makes the season abundant and full. He pours joy into the delicate moments and they drink it in. 


He allows the bloom to be brighter. He makes the fragrance sweeter. He makes the memories more vivid. He sings the song. 

the perfect place to live.

Photo Courtesy of Outdoor Home

Wisdom is calling out to you, inviting you to live in her neighborhood. She'd love for you to sit with her, talk with her, dine with her. She stands outside waving, encouraging you to pull in the driveway, come inside the house. She lives with Prudence, and her friends Knowledge, Discretion, Integrity and Nobility are next-door neighbors. They are all inside her home- drinking sweet tea and living life to its fullest. She knows other neighborhoods might look more beautiful, might be more lush and enticing with their fine stone and fancy gates. But she knows you'll not be happy there. She knows her warm, home-spun street - with its simple, sunshine-filled homes and Dutch doors - is worth the investment. Conversations there are true and honest and kind - there's not one self-serving, snide "bless your heart" remark to be found. Advice is sincere and uplifting - and the words are words to live by. Days are full and sleep is sweet.


Wisdom has lived in the neighborhood for what seems like forever. She was there when the Builder and Architect designed it. She put hand to the plow when the gardens were being designed, and helped drill the deep wells of life-giving springs. She watched Him speak life into the community - watched him craft the homes and breathe color into the flowers. She smiled as He drew the roads in just the right way to encourage slow, thoughtful drives. He set the boundaries, filled the ponds, painted those Dutch doors with bright, inviting colors.Wisdom's neighborhood is rich in all the things that count. And the gardens there? Full and abundant, with enough for everyone. Every single person has all they need. Their aprons are filled with sun-kissed, sun-ripened delights. 

The sweet tea is ready. The Dutch door is open. 

(inspired by Proverbs 8)

i am a cheater.

Be glad of life, because it gives you the chance to love and to work and to play and to look up at the stars. ~Henry Van Dyke

I'll admit it. I'm suffering from a bad case of "restless life syndrome" right now.  Though my days are full of perfectly lovely God-crafted moments, there are some rough patches that look a lot like our backyard - scratchy and prickly and uncomfortable. I'm praying for rain. I know it's coming - it always does. But right now, it's dry. And I'm dry.

(musings) love and faithfulness.

Cling to steadfast love and faithfulness as you travel this life. Wear them like you wear the most elegant of jewels. People will be in awe of them. People will find them absolutely stunning.

And trust the Craftsman. If He created the jewels, how much more can He create beauty in you as you journey. Don't concern yourself with how the facets will be chiseled, or how each bead will be strung. The Craftsman's eye for detail will take even the most flawed of stones and transform them into perfection. His design will be breathtaking - and life-giving. And eternally beautiful.

Inspired by Proverbs 3

(musings) where the lord lives.

Just trust in the Lord - move into His neighborhood. Settle in and make friends with His kind faithfulness. Sit on His porch swing, and have lingering conversations with Him about life and love and all things worthwhile and everything mundane. He'll knock on your door bearing beautifully fragrant, mouth-watering grace-filled gifts. He'll surprise and delight you daily.

Inspired by Psalm 37:3-4

the communion of solitude - a confession.

This is a confession of sorts. Or maybe it's a prayer.

I am craving a day of just sitting on the balcony and listening - for hours on end. Then simply transcribing. I'm hungry for the quiet that reverberates through the heavens and into my heart. I'm thirsty for the communion that is found in solitude.

The present season is a good season, full of projects and writing and baking and hopes and dreams and friends and family. There are quiet moments early in the day and late at night - moments where I breathe in sacred words from my sweet God All-Mighty and breathe out thoughts and prayers. But there is a hole in my heart that is filled by the days of quiet listening.

So, if you read this and feel so inclined, hold me to the highest. Tell me it's OK to put the present season on hold for a day. Remind me of the communion of solitude. And listening. And simply transcribing.

I promise. I'll hold you, too.

Who I am. Today.

Today, I have a date. There won't be flowers or wine or fancy food. The picnic basket will be filled with sodas, chips, water - and sweet potatoes and applesauce. A stray or two may come along.

The music won't be romantic, and I won't wear a flowing dress.

But the date will be perfect. Because it will remind me who I am - and whose I am.

I am wife, Scooby, June Bug, Sweet Pea.
I am mom, mommy, mother (said in a deep, affected voice with a smile).
I am Gigi.
I am loved. Without condition. Regardless of what I do.
I am chosen. A pearl of great price. A princess, really.

Today, I'll not listen to the whispers of "you need to be a somebody to count for something." Today, I'll not surrender to the pressure of needing to find my place or make my voice louder in this world. Today, I'll walk away from finding the perfect words or the perfect picture to capture the perfect moment.

Today, I'll simply rest in the beauty of being on a date with God and my family. Today, I'll rest in the beauty of being alive.

(musings) a thousand words

(musings) open hands.

Those with hands open to give can't help but receive.

(musings) painting.

Let's paint a picture of the Lord God All-Mighty that will hang on the walls for new generations to see. Let's paint one of new mercy and grace, of a tender Savior who greatly loves and sets prisoners free, of a strong Commander who is mighty in battle, of a holy Heavenly Father who is worthy of all praise. Let's paint it in vivid colors that won't fade over time. Let's paint with strokes bold and delicate, with texture and nuance. Let's paint a canvas large enough for all to see and small enough to stand ever-so-near. And let's paint a story worth reading, a scene worth entering, a landscape worth running in...

~inspired by Psalm 102

Ebb. Flow. Change.

No crashing curls. No mist-filled air. Simply one rhythmic wave after another. 

Orange Beach, Alabama.  Early morning moments.

In moments so small they might be missed while in the moment, the landscape changes. 


I stand on the shore and feel the ground fall away below me with each ebb and flow. The waves paint a watercolor picture of feast and fallow and feast again. On the shore is inscribed, “Behold, I make all things new.” 

Let me not fight against the waves. Let this landscape change for the glory of God. 

Lessons from a Tractor

I heard him before I saw him. The hum of the motor blended with the wash of the waves on the quiet beach.

Before the crowds, before the laughter, before the sand castles and volleyball tournaments, there was work to be done. The beachcomber's work was evident - beautiful designs formed along the driver’s journey. Slowly and without fanfare, he created the palette for the colorful day. It would be a rare soul who would gratefully recognize his gift later in the day, though they would enjoy its benefits.

But still he worked. Still he created the palette. As sleepy vacationers complained about the tractor’s noise, he worked. As impatient children growled their frustration at his slow progress, he worked. As the sand shifted and moved  and stirred, not wanting to yield to the design, he worked. He knew his purpose - and he honored it.

I wept as I watched the designs being formed, thankful for the picture of Colossians 3:23 in that beachcomber on the early-morning beach. I needed to be reminded of what my purpose is and Who it is I am working for - as I work and serve and simply live this life I’ve been given. I needed to be reminded that purposeful work often goes unnoticed by others but never by the Lord. I needed to be reminded to be the soul who gratefully recognizes purposeful work in others rather than complain or growl because it doesn’t meet my own self-serving expectations. I needed to be refocused - and the hum of the motor whispered "Simply. Serve. Jesus." 

Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people.

Note: Thanks to Patrick Lockerman for giving this landlocked gal a vocabulary lesson. Now I know what "beachcomber" really means.

Today's Joy.

Last season's swimsuit. Yesterday's hairdo. Today's joy.

For most of life, nothing wonderful happens. If you don't enjoy getting up and working and finishing your work and sitting down to a meal with family or friends, then the chances are that you're not going to be very happy. If someone bases his happiness or unhappiness on major events like a great new job, huge amounts of money, a flawlessly happy marriage or a trip to Paris, that person isn't going to be happy much of the time. If, on the other hand, happiness depends on a good breakfast, flowers in the yard, a drink or a nap, then we are more likely to live with quite a bit of happiness. ~Andy Rooney

(musings) sparkle.

In every mundane moment, there's something more to be found. Lord, help me to see with eyes that see beyond the seen.

discarded sugar dust. a mess to clean. 

sunshine + discarded sugar dust = beautiful sparkle. 

Ritual. Reminder.

The morning ritual. 

God Teaches through Toenails.

I wish the race was prettier. But it’s not.

Happier toes. April 25th.

(musings) Manna.

Today, I asked "Can manna be packed in a picnic basket?" 

And today came the answer.

...Even if you have only bread or water, with these you can still meet the dues of hospitality. Even if you do not have these, but simply make the stranger welcome and offer him a word of encouragement, you will not be failing in hospitality. Think of the widow mentioned in the Gospel by our Lord: with two mites she surpassed the generous gifts of the wealthy. 

~St. Theodoros, the Great Ascetic

Father, please help me to keep my basket full for others, even in seasons of simply manna.