Thursday, August 14, 2014


You know what you don't see on the road anymore? Miatas.

God's love includes aspects of love, kindness, mercy, and faithfulness. We never have to worry that God will run out of love because it flows from a well that will never run dry. {Go read Psalm 136}

Thursday, August 7, 2014


I'm an optimist. I wake up every day believing in a place called “All the Laundry is Done” and I truly believe I can get there. Every. Single. Day.

My morning countdown to get a load into the washer is the 4 1/2 minutes it takes for the water for my Earl Grey to get hot. The air is filled with hope, promise, and April freshness; TODAY is THE DAY!

Piles of clothes litter the laundry room floor and spill in the hallway, loosely clustered by color, with the grays, blues, and greens varying their allegiance between the darks and the mediums. Only the pinks and reds get their own dedicated load. It's so beautifully organized as I conduct the laundry symphony. All this mess will miraculously transform into neat piles of folded wearables and I am the conductor who will wave my baton and make it so!

And then, somewhere it happens. I get distracted / frustrated / tired. My wash-day plot starts to unravel faster than that sweater in my "Special Attention" basket (which is right next to a bin I call the “Home for Wayward Socks.”)

Why isn’t there a buzzer on the washer? And why is the one on the dryer so obnoxious? Why can’t it be a delightful chime? Or the saxophone riff from “Careless Whispers?” Must it sound like the “all clear” air horn burst from a radioactive decontamination chamber?

There’s too many pants to hang and not enough kid-size hangers with clippy things on them. The pre-treated and re-treated stain isn’t budging, and OH MY GOODNESS HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MATE ALL THESE SOCKS??

My enthusiasm evaporates. I don’t need to fold ALL these towels… just grab two so the kids can take a bath. In fact, just get one towel, they're small – they can take turns and share one. 

I quit. Actually it’s more like a surrender in defeat. I just don’t wave a white flag, because I’d have to wash that too.

Out of 7 loads, I've completed 2 1/2, and out of that I've put away about 1 3/4 loads. But I don't let it rattle me, I see the victory in the defeat - I've accomplished SOMETHING! I've made a dent in the laundry: the hampers are now just merely full instead of overflowing. 

I still believe in a place called “All the Laundry is Done.” And I still believe I’ll get there. Tomorrow.

God is in control – he directs, preserves, and maintains his created order. By spending time observing the majestic and intricate parts of God’s creation, we can be reminded of his power in every asepect of our lives. {Go read Job 37}

Monday, August 4, 2014


It’s not about cats. It just is. 

I wasn’t born in 1988 – it’s the year I graduated High School. I graduated from college too, but “Spring of 95kitty” doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. (Yes, it took me an extra 2½ years to finish school – between taking very few classes my freshman year, transferring from a JC to a University, and having a major natural disaster disrupting my junior year it took a while longer than planned.) 

1988 was a time to me when the world was full of potential, smelled like Calvin Klein’s Obsession, and “Careless Whispers” was its soundtrack that played on an infinite loop.

It’s also the year my sister passed away. 

I see 88s everywhere I look – even when I’m NOT trying to see them; license plates, phone numbers, billboards. 

When I first started noticing it – I thought I was going mad. I was standing in line at the post office after having seen a lot of 88s around town, trying to convince myself it was just a coincidence, that I was pre-programmed to look for them. Like when you want a certain kind of car and suddenly you see them everywhere. Then I glanced down at the guy in front of me. His keys were in his pocket with the key rings sticking out… two mini 8 balls side by side. 

I never told anyone about the 88 “phenomenon” – and then, one day, my kids started noticing them and shouting “88!” whenever we were out. 

I don’t know what, if anything, it means – so I chose to assign a meaning to it. Every 88 I see means God is with me, letting me know everything is going to be OK (no matter how bad things look at the time.)

What sign is God using to get your attention?

We may fail, but God’s promises do not. He is always there to help us straighten out our lives and start over. {Go read 2 Kings 25}