When Spontaneous Sue Meets Thoughtful Tom (Are you a Sue, too?)

Hello dear friends!

I know, there’s been some silence over here. We’ve been on the busy end of tail of the life beast and somehow that has devoured my time for words. It’s not that I haven’t had things to write about, it’s just that I wasn’t taking the time to jot them down and complete them.

So often that’s how the writing process works for me. I have a thought or a bright nugget of info about some thing, after I write it down I come back to it a day later and for the next few days add to it, pick it apart like a mad surgeon and devotedly make it better and then try to stitch it up.

Sometimes, and more in the past, I would write something and post it that day. There is great value in sleeping over something. I found that out after I learned that little discipline…. whatever it’s called. Self-restraint, maybe?

By nature I’m rather spontaneous. I feel the urge and thus proceed to do it. That’s how I clean my bathroom. I don’t clean it every Friday or Saturday like regularly scheduled cleaning patterns like my in-laws. I clean it when see it needs it. Or when I get around to it. Or when I wake and some strong urge is compelling me to scrub that brown ring around the tub.

Or like when I suddenly decided to make English Muffins once. No planning. Just looked at ingredients list. I had them. Check. I made them. It was very random.

By nature my husband takes his time to think things through. Like with English muffin making he might think, “What are we eating in the next meal or two that these would go good with?” Like he’d make them if he know we would be needing them soon. Not because he was flipping through a cookbook and they caught his eye.

He represents the thoughtful and considerate side of our marriage. What he does is deliberate and carefully thought-out.  He keeps his options open til the very last min possible in case something better pops up.

This is something I had to get used to. And learn to appreciate and love.

At first it felt crushing and like the energy and life and all the fun in the world was being sucked out of me and that I was on the precipice of dying at home on our blah-brown couch and would never have fun or smile at life and nature and feel real joy again but wind up being transmuted into a characterless housewife mocked as a Sober Sally who went around with her head tilted forward and her shoulders slouched nearly touching her knees oozing lifelessness. Wallowing in a spiritless and discontent daze forever.

How could he not want to grab a canoe right now and go float down the Brazos with me this afternoon?! In the moment I was convinced I would wilt and die on the spot.

But I didn’t.

I complied to waiting and letting my hot ideas pass and eventually I realized I was still alive and well in the end. I learned that spontaneous people like me get excited in the moment and when the moment passes, we’re still breathing. Our pride might be a little nipped is all.

After our excitement dissolves, we may or may not come to see how silly and/or bad timing that idea actually was and move on, sometimes peacefully other times sulkily, maybe storing that hot idea with determination for another day – like that canoe trip we still haven’t done.

Yes, eventually we move on – to the next idea.

One of the things I liked about the discipline of crock-potting (storing) ideas is that I felt wiser. I felt like when I thought things through a bit more I ended up seeing more angles and new thoughts and other ideas that I hadn’t seen before hence just diving right in. I saw how it takes more than a whim to produce something good.

After I let my writing sit and come back to it later, I have other ideas and new thoughts pop out at me. Usually (not always) I like my words even better. I can look at the piece of writing with fresh perspective and see errors and unclear thoughts. I can see where the piece of writing is headed. Sometimes it changes direction and the point may shift to another point I didn’t even see coming.

Like everything you just read wasn’t even in my thoughts to write. I just sat down. Started typing. And that’s what came out of my fingers.

I really wanted to write about personality profiling and quizzes and the such like and what I’ve been experiencing and discovering lately in figuring out my ‘type’. But, that will have to be next time. Til then – have a great weekend, y’all!

family in philly 5315

I think it’s pretty evident here that my husband is a very wise man. I have learned so much by watching him and doing life with him. I think he’s convinced I would learn even more if I was more like him too.

{Doesn’t he look wise? And that smile that goes straight across, like he’s not even smiling but he really is, must mean that he’s a Type 4 after all. I had him pegged for a Type 2. Perhaps type 4 is his secondary type like me… Do you know what type you are?}


As We Wait

The two younger brothers saw the ‘free ice cream’ sign and helped themselves. It was very runny and thin which made them laugh. I helped my travel weary self to a booth near by, propped my feet up and laid back.

Soon my husband and the third and eldest brother traveling with us home from Houston came over and they filled their cones with runny soft ice cream as well. Maybe they keep it runny so people don’t take as much I wondered?


It didnt’ take along til we got half of our order and then more waiting for the rest. The eldest and most reasonable at the time commented that it’s strange we’re waiting this long for basically the same type of sandwich, just bigger. My husband was the driver and that can have an effect on you when you’ve been on the road for 5 hours in one day. He had paid for the food and didn’t think to check his receipt. He mentioned later to feeling ‘out of it.’ Houston is 3 hours down and 3 hours back sometimes longer if you get caught in traffic.

But we’re not complaining. We were glad to take the boys down to see their dad at MD Anderson. We were glad to get to see their dad, Jason’s brother, again too and Jason was able to donate platelets for him which he received the following day. Jason ended up giving me the free t-shirt this time because he already had the same design that was only available in his size. I wished they would have had a 2T size for Gavin. Wouldn’t he look cute in a ‘Give Blood, Save Lives’ tee?


Just like Tim with Leukemia in the hospital waiting to hear the word remission, we waited for our fast food. Sometimes that’s all you can do. Wait. Wait and wonder. Wonder if you are forgotten. Wonder what’s going to happen next. Will we get what we want? Wonder with hope for things to come, like our food or for healing. We wonder how long the waiting period is going to last because golly, haven’t we waited long enough?

I don’t know if we wondered if an angle would show up or not but one eventually did. An older lady, manager-ish type waltzed over and inquired on what we were still waiting on. Back at the ordering counter they quickly got the confusion cleared and in maybe a good 5 min we were back on the road with the yummy smell of BBQ crammed in the jeep with the rest of us 5 people devouring sandwiches.

Lucky for us we didn’t wait a month for our food to come. Unlucky for Jason’s brother with cancer he’s been waiting months and months for his healing portion; perhaps a miracle. Or better yet, an angle to waltz into his room and proclaim they’ve miraculously found no cancer in his body!

Life is full of waiting rooms. Sometimes without even being aware we leap from one waiting room to the next. We get one answer to prayer by being escorted into the next waiting room. Jason’s brother prays for his fever to go down, which eventually happens and then he waits for blood and platelets, after that he’ll wait a couple more days for test results and Dr updates and then wait another day or two to start Chemotherapy. And then wait 30 days until something else. I’m not sure what but probably more waiting to see if the chemo worked.

Waiting takes long. It takes days. Days that turn into weeks and somehow a month.


My friend is very large and pregnant and waiting for her baby to come. She’s waited 9 months. If she’s like me, next she’ll be waiting for the baby to get to that first year. Baby’s are cute but baby’s take a lot of sleep and energy from you. And you wait for them to grow up. Smile, roll over, sit up, get teeth, crawl and then walk and talk.

We wait.

Maybe life is one gigantic waiting room. It seems we are always waiting for something and looking for the future and what’s to come. Right now I’m looking forward to going to Pennsylvania to see my brother get married and my sister-in-laws soon to be adopted two kids for the first time. I’m waiting the final 3 weeks out to finally fly. They are waiting these final 3 weeks out to get hitched and to sign adoption papers. 11052503_785709351512824_7340311736584749786_n

When we get back I’ll be looking forward to the next thing and then the next. And we spend our days waiting on time. Eventually our lives will come to an end and the waiting will stop. We will have arrived. For the believer, that’s heaven. I can’t imagine a place with no more longing of things to come. A place with no expecting for tomorrows. Because everything we will have longed for and hoped for, all those desires will be meet.

One day in heaven we won’t long for healing. I’m no theologian but I think we won’t long for our next meal either. And we will have nowhere else to look forward to going because we have finally arrived. We won’t need anything or want anything. We will be fulfilled to the fullest.

And so with great hope to come, I’d like to learn to live in my waiting room moments and enjoy life. I can’t speak for people with cancer because I have no idea how difficult it would be to wait in a hospital bed and be making the most of it. See, usually I try to wish the difficult times away. Selfishly push through them and get to the next day at least. Especially when I was pregnant at the end. I was just ready to have that baby which I’m sure my friend is the same way today.


But, what if I sat and enjoyed my son and husband instead of isolating myself in my waiting misery? What if I looked around and found the joy hidden in difficult people, small hospital rooms or runny soft ice cream, a big swollen belly, even a pile of dirty dishes that never seems to go away?

I think it takes people who are incredibly brave in hard seasons to risk their life sucks feelings and learn to live in the moments of waiting by choosing joy and choosing to be fully alive in-spite of it all.

I want to be brave and I have a feeling you might too.

My Favorite Suit Yet




I found this picture under my dresser the other day and just stared at it. I remembered very well that house, that room, that time of life. Me holding my younger brother. I loved helping take care of my little brothers. I played house with them (as you can see the one boy is dressed as a girl probably with a pony tail that you can’t see), sang them to sleep, took baths with them and slept in the same rom with them. That little girl in the picture was so carefree with her knee-high socks falling down, so loving and eager to please. That me was playful, more apt to not overly worry or be anxious but agreeable to the way things were.. There was also a deep question in her eyes but we don’t need to go there right now.

Sometimes I wish I could raise Gavin the way I was a big sister to my little brothers.


My one friend, a mother of 4 girls, is like that – the not worrying part. She never seems to stress. I love watching her parent. She laughs with them. She has a great relationships with all 4 girls; very caring of their needs but not over emphasizing small things. She takes what she assesses is enough for that moment and if something unexpected comes up, she might just sigh and say not right now dear or something soft and rational like that to which the girls might be grumpy about but still listen. She’s happy. She is in control. Not like a control freak – she’s just chill but you know she’s the parent.

I look at my child and feel this overwhelming sense of responsibility. Like don’t let him eat another cookie. Give him a banana instead. Make sure he get’s enough water in one day and learns to eat carrots. He must listen when I say come, like yesterday already! If I forget to brush his teeth one more night they’ll all fall out by the time he’s 2 and a half! I have got to take better care of his sensitive skin. And thus the list of musts and do – do – dos runs laps in my mind. It’s a real 5k. The kind that can leave you panting and so ready for nap time.



At some point though I have loosened up with my parenting. It’s called life I think and out of nowhere it all falls into place like dominos all set up and suddenly without warming one falls and then the next and the next and the next. And it keeps going and you can’t go back but keep going forward to the next day and the next. We sorta know what to expect as we move day by day with each other and we learn how to deal with melt downs and adamant “No’s” We learn to interpret the babble and the pointing. Yes, eventually you just do. And it’s another day. Another domino falls.

But, I have to say that the one thing I like about my younger self taking care of little brothers is that in the end, it wasn’t all my responsibility. In the end mom would come and have the final say. In the end it was mom who got the child to eat his peas, to put on his underwear, stopped the fussing and crying and who stayed up late with a sick toddler while I slept and probably didn’t even know what was going on in the next room, tucked sound asleep in my bed happy as a kitten.

Now, it’s all on me. I’m the mom. And, that leaves me little peace and sometimes very little energy. Because, what if I can’t. You know? What if I just can’t?

But then sometimes you can.

It all starts when you couldn’t seem to find any other way out or maybe because mom’s not available to bail you out. Each night you or your husband find yourself in your child’s room standing there until he falls asleep at night. And this goes on night after night and he doesn’t seem to out grow out of it like he did other things. That is until a night out with some friends who struggle with the same thing and you talk and talk about what nights are like for both of you, leaving you feeling reluctant, and then on the drive home you and your husband hash this out the whole way and that very evening a new plan is implemented and it actually works. You are so giddy with excitement and freedom from the cage of the baby’s room you text your friend and rejoice to high heaven that the child is asleep without your presence hovering over his crib for 38 minutes. At some point you are awakened to change and the awareness that you CAN. That’s what other mothers do for each other – help us to see that we can.

The occasional victory keeps you going for a while but then something new starts up. Another struggle comes into focus that you can’t seem to shake. And on and on the parenting cycle of worry over the next thing continues. I know somewhere in there I need to trust God with my worries. That’s what a good Christian would do, right? I need to hand over my list of what I need to work on with my son. Hand it over and rest. Maybe first tear the list to shreds, burn it and offer the ashes to God as a burnt offering. He’d be mightily pleased of the letting go of lists on my part and then invite me to relax and live in his sweet world of rest that slowly moves on trust. The door to that sanctuary was probably open all along but I didn’t see it. I’ve been missing it because my head was down making worrisome lists the whole time and burning out on cookie fuel instead of trust fuel.


I’ll never be the Jolynn of the past. I can’t go back. Those dominos already fell. I am the mother now. Let me own this suit and wear it on the good days and the bad days. Maybe someday it will feel more natural or like me when I look in the mirror. Because honestly some days I could almost pinch myself that I have this adorable little tyke who runs to give me hugs or comes and sits beside me on the couch just to lay his head on my shoulder and be next to me. Or who crawls up on my lap when I’m eating a snack and asks for “some?”. Who looks at me sheepishly as he takes another sip of soda and giggles that irresistible laugh and I burst into hysterics because how can I not even though he’s drinking Dr Pepper and his teeth are gonna rot.

He has the biggest brown eyes that twinkle when he laughs and his chubby little arms wrap perfectly around my neck and when he lays his head on my shoulder I could squeeze him forever and ever. He has ambition and energy like the start of a crisp spring day. No doubt or fear of anything; the world is his like a kite and string. He’s smart and intelligent when he wants to be and loves to sing with any stick, dinosaur’s tail or spoon as his microphone. And the way he twaddles and bounces as he runs when I chase him makes me happier than an eagle soaring high in a clear blue sky.

No, I don’t want to go back. That little girl couldn’t possibly feel the joy I feel inside. I like it right here where I am. I’m getting quite comfy in my mama suit. And I like it. I like it a lot. 



What Leaning Feels Like and a Circus


I am loving my mornings this week. My almost 2-year-old wakes up happily talking to himself for at least 10 minutes. Listening to my tall little (recently asked if my 22 month old is 3) babble on and utter a chuckle or two is purely the truest joy. And today it’s the prefect way to start my day.



Vulnerability is never easy and if your like my toddler, it might come natural to you. Their world is completely wrapped in a full coverage protection plan with their biggest liability being getting that cookie or wearing boots instead of shoes. What a life.

Or, if you’re like me, you’re scared to death of vulnerability and your biggest liability is, well frankly, every thing.

Brene Brown’s book, Daring Greatly is a super good read. Packed full of research she mentions so many people that she interviewed express instances of vulnerability and what it was like for them which makes this book one that you can easily connect with and lick those fingers to keep turning pages.

From the back of the book:

In Daring Greatly, Dr. Brown challenges everything we think we know about vulnerability. Based on twelve years of research, she argues that vulnerability is not weakness, but rather our clearest path to courage, engagement, and meaningful connection.

So inspired my this Texas native, I want to be able to risk some pride and safety in situations where I know I walk fully armored. Baby steps where my insurance is security in God and knowing that he always keeps me safe. I’ve heard people say,  “This is just who I am. Deal with it.” and it scares me to think that I’ll land out beyond the playing field with them somewhere surrounded by a thick wall of prickly hedges.

We can change.

I hope I keep changing – becoming more Christlike and not some crazy hiding behind a ridiculous stiff, thick, clanking armor suit that’s not even comfortable to wear in the first place.

Imagining risking some wild, fresh vulnerability scares the tar out of me too. It’s so easy to NOT have scary hard conversations. And so this week I’ve been thinking about different responses and leaning into what could be life giving instead of death and stabbing. I’m leaning into the mystery of another way.

Years ago I was at a Bible School doing a week of missions prep just before leaving for the summer to go to Mexico. One of the activities was to stand on the stage in the gym and and fall backwards into the group’s arms below you. I think it was called the Faith Fall. I remember standing up there, my back towards the group. Good thing because I couldn’t see if they were smiling big and confidently or had huge creased brows oozing uncertainty.

I took a deep breath, crossed my arms over my chest and just fell. I had no idea what the landing would feel like. Didn’t know if I’d give a little or give a lot. Had no idea what to expect.

Leaning into vulnerability feels a lot like that. You don’t know anything for certain once you start to let yourself go.

I just came across this anonymous quote.

“Sometimes the thing that we are most afraid of doing is the thing that will set us free.”

Who doesn’t want to be free?

And, so I hope to practice the leaning…


In other news, the circus came to town.



I took my kiddo and one of his favorite cousin, the one that we always have to pray for every night when we say our prayers, along to check it out. Because when we heard that a circus was coming to such a small, small, very small town, I was a bit skeptical but also a bit excited and I might have even imagined a three-ring tent and lots and lots of wild animals, clowns, fire and tight rope walkers.

I’ll let this picture tell you everything you need to know.


And, so after we said ‘hello, mr elephant’ and ran around in the mud behind the tent to pet look at the miniature ponies, hubby and I decided at the supper table that that was enough circus adventure for one day. Lucky us our one-year-old didn’t know he was missing out on anything that night. And we’re $24 richer because of it! :)

 Have a great week!

A Safety Issue

I can’t believe it’s Saturday already. I’ve meaning to post by Wednesday this week and now it’s the weekend. But I have something to share with you, dear readers and so I’ll get this post out before it’s the start of another week!

The promise of rain on my weather app was right today. Outside my window, the thick heavy clouds could nearly burst. In fact when I went out to feed the dog an hour ago, they had begun to leak. It’s another dreary day in Texas. Oh, how I promise to never complain about the hot, hot sun in July.

Last week I wrote about how I was greatly daring in beginning something new. Something new which involved hanging out over food with people I knew, knew of and a complete stranger. This all came about after attending IF:Gathering in the beginning of February. I risked an If:Table which turned out a success and we are continuing it next month! Yay!

I’ve also been praying this prayer for Lent this year (read the prayer here) inspired by Ann Voskamp who spoke at the IF:Gathering. I follow her blog for the most part and she wrote a recap post from IF and then included this prayer challenge.

And, all I can say is along came that prayer and rocked my little safe boat.

This Lent Prayer is so powerful and motivating. I feel empowered and rested each time after praying it. It can be a bit of a drag to remember to get that prayer in some days, but when I’m through, I’m so glad I prayed it.

Sometimes when I read it different parts pop out at me. Sometimes I’m stuck on a phrase or two for a couple of days. I’m stuck on safety right now. I never thought that was an issue for me.

Here’s the paragraph that I’ve been praying:


We lay down our comfort zones because they are death traps, and we will be strong and courageous because You literally save us, and that makes us safe and the safest place we could ever be is in Your hand — and because we are saved by You, we are always, always safe, — so we are now called to go live dangerous lives.


I used to quickly breezed through part thinking, “this is probably a big issue for some people since she wrote a whole paragraph on being safe. Sheesh” All the while confidently believed it wasn’t my struggle.

Then it began to haunt me. “Do I feel safe?”


As I wrestled with the word safe I began to see how I often live in fear more than I was ever being honest with myself. Fear of what others think, what my husband might say about what I did, that I’m over-bearing or coming up short, or if I’m doing the ‘right’ thing in a situation.

I think when I’m living fearfully, like fearful of how an evening might go and trying to be somebody I’m not – I don’t have a sense of safety. So, maybe safety isn’t a word I connect with as much as fear. Not feeling safe is living in fear.

If you’re like me when in a situation that leaves you feeling a bit fearful of what might happen, then you try to produce all obvious efforts to control the situation and push down that feeling of fear creating for myself a Jolynn-itized safety. And Jolynn-itized safety has nothing to do with God-itized safety. All my best efforts to knock out fear in my heart will not leave me at rest and secure in God.

When fear rules, there’s no room for faith.



Is any of my crazy brain registering with you?

I used to believe that faith in God meant that I was NOT afraid or doubtful when I had faith. Like I was either one or the other and that one day I would arrive and no longer struggle with faith and fear and doubting. But, on my spiritual journey with God, I learned that that’s not at all the case.

Three things. 1. Having faith in God does not mean all those doubts and fears are vanished – kaput. Faith simply overcomes those feelings. Daily. 2. I still might have a twinge of fear, meaning they actually co-exist. It matters more which voice I’m leaning and acting on.  3. I will never arrive and not struggle with fear, faith and doubt.  Even when I’m 81. Not until heaven with the struggle stop.

My desire in this moment of awareness on my journey is to use my feelings of fear or insecurity as red flags to stop and ask myself what I am afraid of right now. And then teach myself to pray and ask God to replace that fear with faith and remember I’m always safe in Him no matter what I’m dealing with or how I feel. God makes me safe if I invite his presence in my troubled heart.

Owning my fear and not bulldozing through it will make me more fully alive then any fake version of myself ever will be.

It’s amazing what all humans struggle with. I hope being honest with you about my struggles  will cause healing in our hearts and render encouragement. We can learn so much from each other. Being a student of life is the greatest classroom one could ever attend. May my struggles help build curiosity in you for more of God and freer, more alive living.

I’m amazed at how much I can grow and change when I’m seeking after God. I’m not saying it’s easy. In fact it seems harder. I’m realizing that God isn’t fixated on making me happy but desires a close relationship with me and that takes intentionality on my part. I’m such an independent, I’ll-figure-a-way-out, bulldoze-through-the-confusion kinda gal. Yeah, not much room for God to move in me! Ha! :p


Have a happy & safe weekend ya’ll!


Praying for Strength & Courage

be strong and courageous
In the past Lent was always a bit pre-meditated for me. I approached it as somewhat of a challenge and looked forward to sacrificing something for a whole 40 days. Most times it was chocolate. It was hard for my very sweet tooth to be in such favor of the decision which is why I did it I’m sure. But I always was aware weeks before that Lent was coming and tried to figure out what to give up.

This year Lent sorta rolled around and caught me by surprise. About a week before it began I read this post by Ann Voskamp and seriously considered praying a prayer she wrote on Dangerous Faith as opposed to giving up something. Her post came after speaking at IF:Gathering — a ladies event that challenges to gather, equip, and unleash the next generation of woman to live out their purpose — that I was privileged to attend locally via Livestream. It was totally awesome and next year I purposed in my heart this Texan is gonna do everything she can to be to a part of it LIVE in Austin.

So, back to the prayer. In a short time I was in. I committed to praying Ann’s prayer entitled Be Courageous. Maybe giving up that chuck of time as I pray is my sacrifice for Lent? I don’t know, but so far this prayer was only skipped once and I’m continually drawn to its message.

I’ve been praying that I can be strong and courageous like Joshua.
I’ve been praying that I may not be fearless but faithful because God is greater than my fears.
I’ve been praying that I can lay down my comfort zones and walking to the land God is calling me believing He will always keep me safe.
Praying that I hunger for a life of hidden service and humility and take leaps of faith and believe God can.
And, praying to step up the stairs not stare up the steps and to not quit even when we don’t know what’s going on.

There. Wow. All that I’m praying. Every day. I haven’t felt a big difference but I’ve sensed a nudging to trust and move/risk and to keep my heart soft in the face of fear. If you’re like me, then that’s huge. Because people like me are prone to handle things on their own and figure it by themselves.

For me, most of this prayer is about relationships and what I can do to be more open and speak life into them and not words of death. I’m also reading Larry Crabb’s book, SoulTalk right now which is so timely because he explains how to listen and care for others.  >I highly recommend it.<

So with SoulTalk in my mind and God’s spirit in my heart and Lent on the calendar, I’m yearning to risk speaking words that offer life and hope. To move beyond clichés and what Jolynn would say but instead tap into the Holy spirit living in me and wait with faith for God to move. Don’t you wish you spoke more out of God’s spirit too? — and not just what you think and out of fear of looking foolish? Oooh yeah.

IF:Gathering also designed this thing called IF:Table. (This video explains more about it) The table idea is for woman to gather together and have Christ centered conversations around a table and food. What an awesome idea, right? What female doesn’t love the idea of connection and community and food – haha! I love this concept and this Thursday night I’m a part of our very own first IF:Table. It feels kinda scary and like a huge leap of Faith on my part – like what I’ve been praying about. I feel like I’m leaping, yes, LEAPING into something and I have no idea how it’s going to go. I don’t even know everybody attending.

Did I mention that I’m hosting it. That’s a huge fear factor in its self. As a host I always feel pressure to keep the ball rolling and pressure to make it ‘fun’. As host though, I really, really, want to be open to how God will lead the conversation and make the night about Him and not me, my lousy table, my food or my unfinished front door. Umm… yeah.

I guess I’ll keep praying my prayer until then. I guess I’ll keep creeping along and moving in faith as I nervously risk opening up my heart to trust God and believe that where ever he leads me, I’ll be safe. The evening probably won’t be prefect but hopefully I can relax and enjoy the imprefections! Did I mention I’m excited too? I really am looking forward to the Table! I love meeting people especially in my new-ish community. I’ve lived here almost 6 years and still feel new.

That’s my Lent story. There might be a part II down the road. I’m kinda spontaneous and unpredictable with my writing so you never know with me! If you want to hear how it goes comment and tell me!

How about you? Are you sacrificing something this season? Are you risking something to draw closer to Christ?

A Wish For Your Weekend

treat us nice

It’s Friday. Woo-hoo! We’ve made it through another week! I don’t know about you but the sun is shinning, it’s in the 50’s and the promise of warmer weather to come is enough to whip out my sandals and toe nail polish!

Today Gavin had a cute, sweet little friend over and it was fun watching them interact. Gavin, an only child, and her the youngest of 3, was not used to fending for himself. Sometimes they played coexisting beside each other. Sometimes his jealousy got the best of him and he grabbed her toys to which she screamed. Other times she took a toy from him or pushed him out of her way as he curiously stared at her. I couldn’t help but rationalize, there are mean people everywhere. We can’t assume that others are going to treat us nice or how we like. 

Maybe I’m going over board. I have a tendency to be to, to, too thinky. As mom used to say, “Jolynn, you think too much.” But, I’m learning to embrace who I am and not misplace myself as wrong or try to stop the bothersome thinking. Through the years I’ve met some really neat people who, like me, think too much. I take solace in the fact that I am not alone.

So, as you go into your weekend, remember that it’s not helpful to expect others to treat us as we prefer. May you offer grace to those that fail to meet our expectations and may we move to love in-spite of our desires to turn and run.

Happy weekending!