Pajama’s and my Mom’s Slippers

I am wearing my pajama’s again and my Mom’s slippers and I feel justifiably grateful that it is storming and cold outside so that I can stay in my pajamas for the rest of the day because I was going to anyways. I have been in them all weekend except church this morning and I have been in them every day after school.  When I am at school all I want to do is get through the day so I can go home and put on my pajama’s. I have been so grateful for the cold and rain it fits my mood and I can wrap up in my grey robe-wrap as I sit and watch TV or just sit. When I do get up I shuffle through the house in my Mom’s purple slippers, the last new pair she ever wore. Continue reading

Returning

I was sitting in the 2nd row after the service waiting until the men stacking chairs would get to me and then I would move. I was scrolling on my phone and I was waiting for my husband as I have done on any given Sunday in any number of places. He had preached that morning in this church we were starting to call home and while I was comfortable with that idea opening my heart to engaging people was still not something that felt safe.  I loved that Tim was loved and respected and that his preaching ministry was welcomed and wanted and that was good enough for me. I was basically minding my own business until a cute little woman sat down next to me and asked to talk to me. I was a bit surprised she approached me at all since I know exactly how intimidating I can look when I am scrolling on my phone daring anyone to approach me, so I was intrigued by what she had to say.  Lois Pittman is the women’s ministry director at our church (for you Bethanites she is Eunice Bruegman’s sister) and she started her conversation by describing a women’s event that occurred on a Saturday in the spring where women from the church were asked to speak instead of bringing in outside speakers. Continue reading

Buster and Eddie Buster too…

I had my feet up on the dash and I was immersed in the current summer novel of choice and Tim was lost in his thoughts as he sometimes likes to be when he is driving, companionable silence in our little Honda Fit as we buzzed across highway 152 on our way to Morgan Hill. We were meeting my college roommate and her husband to see Michael McDonald and Boz Scaggs in Saratoga at the Paul Masson Mountain Winery (amazing venue) when you are older trips back to your younger days with friends and music of those days is always a wonderful way to end the summer. My cell phone rang breaking the quiet and I looked down to see Mychal’s name on the screen and immediately answered the phone, “Hey bud, what’s up? My phone was connected to the Bluetooth so we could both hear him and he answered  “I have a fun story to tell you…” Continue reading