That night, as the storm came ashore, I lay on the couch next to two large windows nearly mummified by masking tape, and listened to tree branches slap and scratch the glass. The wind howled. The rain fell. I was terrified, yet also mesmorized. Each lightning bolt sent shivers and goosebumps across my skin.
As writers, we must take time to self-evaluate. Do we know where we are going, and do we know why we want to get there? Perhaps your goals are lofty and grandiose, or maybe they are just tiny little baby steps. Either way, goals should be spoken out loud, written down, and then evaluated for progress.
He was a man who didn't accept BS and didn't serve it. You got the truth whether you wanted it or not, and you were always better for it. He had a heart that melted like a Hershey's Kiss when he spoke of his beloved grandchildren, and he had a love for his wife that inspired every married couple who knew him. They both looked at each other with stars in their eyes.
...let me also say that any woman who chooses to wear a hijab because she chooses to reform to the implications of modesty that it represents to some Muslims should not be ridiculed or judged, nor should the assumption be that this woman is oppressed. Our country in particular is harsh to women who choose a more traditional path, whether that path be religious in nature or not. Women who choose to stay home and raise their families, for example, are often chastised or looked down upon, as if their choice reflects some sort of diminished value.
My purpose for being a teacher and a tutor is to rectify a lack of literacy for others, particularly adults who are returning to school at an older age, after raising babies, getting laid off, or breaking bad habits that sucked the motivation to succeed from their bones. I want to help those who realize what they do not have, and desperately want to find a way to get it.
Words begin in the heart, and they don’t always reveal themselves in a pretty fashion. But what they reveal should be respected and honored. Those who teach should remember the passion that once inspired them to teach what they love, and they should remember that the writing they are privileged to read may represent a person who has fought through many demons to courageously put those words on the page.
I remember a lot about English class in 1983. Sitting in front of the dashing Clint Roberds, sheepishly slouching to the left or right when his buddy, Shawn Roberts, leaned back to talk over and around me. Waiting for my braces to be removed. Dreading another warm bologna sandwich at lunch. Struggling to understand sentence diagramming. Daydreaming about Duran Duran.
There’s a famous passage in the New Testament that references Jesus clearing out the temple in a fit of anger. After finding peddlers, loafers, and money changers using the temple grounds for their own personal gain, he became enraged. John 2:15 says “He made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple courts, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables.” At The Great Passion Play in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, this is one of my favorite scenes. As Jesus runs up the temple steps and overturns the crates of doves, they scatter across the night sky like a barrage of white-hot fireworks, and the crowd collectively gasps
f I need money, and he has brought no cash home, and I have to wait until the next day, how will that go? We are committed to using cash for expenses…Will I be tempted to secretly use the credit card in an act of impatience? I don’t want a checkbook…checkbooks and I have a sordid past. Will I wait for thenobledaughter to become distracted by the latest Wonka meme on Pinterest,…and then sneak into her room to “borrow” a little moolah?
n the summer of 1984, I was a gangly, awkward, intensely introverted soon-to-be high school freshman, where my class of fellow ninth graders at Angleton High School actually outnumbered the entire population of my hometown. Still floundering, still trying to find my place, I suffered from intense anxiety about moving to high school. And as the summer dwindled away with each day spent transfixed to MTV, nothing would have made me happier than to dig my own hole to China and disappear.
The lightning bug rings? Well, now I'm a bit horrified that I ever did that, especially in light of the scarcity of lightning bugs these days. Here in Texas, I don't see them too often. But on those nights when their loopy, glowing paths blink in the twilight, weaving underneath the sprawling branches of the big oak tree in our backyard. my breath catches in my throat.
When you focus on the partnership instead of the person, you give yourself permission to show grace and seek wisdom. You were given to each other to complete each other, to spiritually grow with each other, to reflect the goodness of your creator, and to model Godly order in relationships. Your marriage is not your soapbox. It is your assignment and your blessing.
I've been struggling with anger a lot lately, and the end result is that I end up feeling guilty for feeling angry, because it is the opposite of love, peace, and all the other warm-fuzzies that I should be not only feeling, but showing. As a Christian woman, I should be above fleshly fits and testy tantrums. I should embrace forgiveness and extend grace.