Have you ever held a grudge against someone? Yes, even as a Christ-follower? Well, I have, and it’s not pretty. It doesn’t make you feel better, and it certainly doesn’t help the relationship. But, I’m so glad I didn’t have to learn the hard way about letting go. Continue reading
The journey I am sharing is our adoption story of our daughter, Heather, in the form of prayer journaling. And it begins in the spring of 1984. We had been married for 6 years already…
Dear God, My sister, Debbie, called today to tell me she’s going to have a baby. I want to be happy for her, but the hurt inside me seems too big to get past. Continue reading
Meeting the Poet
by Lynn D. Morrissey
Note: This story unfolded at Central Presbyterian Church, in St. Louis, where I am a member.
Louis. Daniel. Brodsky. After the names caromed around in my mind, I shaped each one with my mouth, thoughtfully, haltingly, as if trying to retrieve from memory the lyrics of some long-ago song, lyrics I had once known well, but had since forgotten. Continue reading
I began volunteering with Hospice several years ago. I have met some remarkable people and yes, in most cases they have gone home (I say ‘in most cases’ because several of my patients have actually graduated out of hospice.)
Earlier this year I was paired with Earlene. Continue reading
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118 Walter Court
I grew up in a small northwest suburb of Chicago called Bloomingdale. There was nothing significant about my little corner of the universe, other than the fact that I lived there and my world fit into a small five house cul-de-sac. Continue reading
I never thought I would have trouble birthing children, but does any woman? My sister, Sally and I each got married about eight weeks apart. After two years of marriage (isn’t that the magic number?) we both began trying to conceive. She got pregnant first. I remember feeling a twinge of jealously but realized it might be great for her to “break” my parents into the grandparent scene rather than me. No big deal. Continue reading
In February of 1986, I turned thirty and my husband of seven years walked out. There was no warning, no prior struggles, no big fights – just a simple, “I don’t love you anymore and I don’t want to be married.”
To say the bottom dropped out of my little “Susie-Homemaker” world would be a severe understatement. Continue reading
Are you over-due for some “girl time”?
I just love Girls’ Night Out! I rarely pass on an opportunity to spend an evening talking the night away with friends.
How about we use my blog as our GNO meeting place during the month of October? It should be a party!
No one has to get a sitter, rearrange her schedule, put gas in the car, stay out late, or even change out of her pj’s! And… I don’t have to dust my living room! 🙂
I’ve gathered some of the coolest and wisest women I know and gave them an assignment: to share one story.
Some have funny stories, others brought touching ones. Some will make you cry. Others will leave you nodding your head and whispering, “Me too.” There will be birth stories, wedding stories, and most embarrassing moments. You know how it is when women get to talkin’…
AND… you’re invited! You know you want to kick off those heels or jogging shoes, curl up with a cup of tea or glass of wine, and get lost in someone else’s story.
I’m praying that God will be glorified through each and every Girls’ Night Out. I hope that women of all ages are blessed and encouraged by them for many months to come.
May we all grow closer and find ourselves in each other’s stories.
Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell what he has done for my soul. Psalm 66:16
Here is the lineup so far. One story will go “live” each night at 7:00 throughout the month. Each name below will be linked to a story that you won’t want to miss…
October 1: Cathy Barnes
October 2: Nancy Gruneisen
October 3: Jamie Stowell
October 4: Jan Burch
October 5: Lynn D. Morrissey
October 6: Toodie Schaper
October 7: Paula Robinson
October 8: Christan Perona
October 9: Amalia LaViolette
October 10: Debbie Doriani
October 11: Lisa Dobrich
October 12: Sierra Fedorko
October 13: Molly Snyder
October 14: Denise Dolan
October 15: Jenny Smith
October 16: Julie Schloss
October 17: Catherine Estes
October 18: Kayla Brown (my daughter!)
October 19: Linda Gurney
October 20: April Johnson
October 21: Mary Suzanne Crockett
October 22: Beth Freund
October 23: Susan Maynor
October 24: Ruth Stith
October 25: Sara Denckhoff
October 26: Rosemary Oliver
October 27: Megan Dunham
October 28: Lisa Roth
October 29: Rebekah Sasse (It’s her birthday! 🙂
October 30: Jane Ellen Mark
October 31: Elizabeth Anderson
Thank you all for being a part of my story in big and small ways.
Your friend,
Karen
PS. Did you miss last year’s Girls’ Night Out? Or wanna revisit them? Click HERE
There is that moment in the very early morning, when I’m half awake and I don’t quite know where or when I am.
When the light hits only the highest places, when the heat of the day is still distant, and I’m still allowing sleep’s current to take me wherever…
It’s the sweet moment when the quiet fills my room and my soul and I can’t remember anything.
Then, the alarm sounds and it all rushes back. Continue reading
It’s called Five Minute Friday. Each week, we write freely on a one-word prompt. Then we link up at the amazing Kate Motaung’s site. It’s a flash mob of writers- having fun and sharing their take on one word. This week’s prompt is FIND.
“Hey, Mom! Can we stop and get that cat?”
I slowed the van, alarmed by their tone and asked, “Why?”
“We just saw a sign back there about a lost black cat. It’s probably looking for its home. Please?! ”
Ugh. Seriously? Continue reading
It’s called Five Minute Friday. Each week, we write freely on a one-word prompt. Then we link up at the amazing Kate Motaung’s site. It’s a flash mob of writers- having fun and sharing their take on one word. This week’s prompt is TRY.
“Tell ’em about your blog, honey!” My husband waved his arm from me to our new friends with a proud gesture.
I could feel my face redden before the words were half-out of his mouth. I shot him a look, but it was too late. Their eyes were already glazing over. Continue reading
It’s called Five Minute Friday. Each week, we write freely on a one-word prompt. Then we link up at the amazing Kate Motaung’s site. It’s a flash mob of writers- having fun and sharing their take on one word. This week’s prompt is TEN. 
A few years ago, a Quik Trip was built one block away from our house. With each visit, I’m more impressed by the way they do things. Many times, I’ve thought about what the church could learn from them … Continue reading
The light turned yellow, then red, and I slowed to a stop. I hung my arm out the window and glanced at a park near the intersection. There, a disheveled mom was chasing a three-foot live wire with a bowl cut. I watched until the car behind me honked.
As I pulled off the line, it hit me: That’s me. My kids are teenagers, but they haven’t stopped running. And I’m still huffing and puffing behind them.
The teenage years seem to cause parents to either chase harder or quit running altogether.
I’m a chaser, through and through. Continue reading
It’s called Five Minute Friday. Each week, we write freely on a one-word prompt. Then we link up at the amazing Kate Motaung’s site. It’s a flash mob of writers- having fun and sharing their take on one word. This week’s prompt is FREE.
“Is this free?”
Her big brown eyes grew wide as she pushed the CD in my face. Sweat, sugar, and water balloons had plastered her blond bangs to her forehead. Her voice was a bit too loud after our “God’s Plan 4U” concert.
I switched my focus from her face to the pink jewel case.
FREE? My mind flashed to the hours spent hanging decorations, gathering supplies, organizing volunteers, and burning those CDs. That little girl didn’t know she was holding the blood, sweat, and tears of many hard-working VBS volunteers. I would never let on how tired and sore I was. She would never understand all that was spent for that digital give-away. Continue reading
Dear Husbands of Our Youth,
We know it’s been a rough go sometimes. And we know marriage can be really hard work. We also know you love us, but honestly, we don’t understand why you say women are so complicated, unpredictable, and hard to please. It’s just not true.
Let us explain.
First, we are NOT complicated. We are a simple straightforward gender. You just need to remember these basic things:
If your wife is quiet, it means she is sad. Unless the silence has lasted for more than twenty-four hours. If that’s the case, it means she is angry. If she’s sad, you must gently pursue her. If she’s angry, you must give her some space. And when we say “pursue”, we know you heard “SEX”. For the record, this quiet sad/angry time is not a signal that we want you. Yes, seriously. Continue reading
Christians have been talking a lot lately. We’ve got much to say about race, marriage, forgiveness, justice, love… Continue reading
I used to go to my room to cry.
I would hold it together until I fixed a snack for one child, pulled down a toy for another, and assigned math pages to two more. Finally, with trembling lip, I’d hustle down the hallway to the privacy of my bedroom.
There, my God and my pillow absorbed the tears. Because someone called with bad news. Or I didn’t get my way in marriage. Because it was the wrong time of the month. Or mothering and homeschooling four kids was just plain lonely and hard. Continue reading
It’s called Five Minute Friday. Each week, we write freely on a one-word prompt. Then we link up at the amazing Kate Motaung’s site. It’s a flash mob of writers- having fun and sharing their take on one word. This week’s prompt is DREAM.
I had a dream I was flying.
In the air, I saw old friends and dodged hissing snakes. When I tried to scream, my teeth fell out, but I couldn’t catch them with my feathered hands. Then, I turned a corner and plummeted to the ground, waking up just before I met my death on the rocks below.
Dreams don’t obey laws of physics, or reason. They reach backward and forward until we lose sense of when we are and mock our bondage to time. Continue reading
Water, like a wild Love that’s constrained
By dams of fear and levees of hate,
Builds a fierce current, black and white and jealous.
Until it overtakes its boundaries, and levels everything in its path.
It’s called Five Minute Friday. Each week, we write freely on a one-word prompt. Then we link up at the amazing Kate Motaung’s site. It’s a flash mob of writers- having fun and sharing their take on one word. This week’s prompt is FEAR.
Come, Lord Jesus.
I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.
Bad things happen, and we want it all to end. No more violence. No more anger. No more grief.
Come, Lord Jesus.
We say it when we are afraid of things getting worse. Let’s call it a day. Let’s call it a life. Let’s cut our losses and go home. Continue reading
It’s called Five Minute Friday. Each week, we write freely on a one-word prompt. Then we link up at the amazing Kate Motaung’s site. It’s a flash mob of writers- having fun and sharing their take on one word. This week’s prompt is WORLD.
A playground crawling with kids, blue swings, and the mommy bench.
A dark alley covered with garbage, homeless men, and the drug dealer.
This is my Father’s World.
Cowboy birthday parties with cupcakes, party favors, and innocence galore.
Teenage pool parties with suspicious minds, unjust rage, and ten steps back.
This is my Father’s World. Continue reading
There’s a drawer in my dresser that’s really hard to open. It takes all of my strength – and much prayer – to pull it.
It’s the second one from the bottom. It’s the first one with two brass handles instead of one. It’s my swimsuit drawer.
This year was especially difficult. Due to my newly diagnosed hypothyroidism, too little exercise, and maybe a few extra beers and burgers, I’ve gained some weight. My middle’s round and protruding, my breasts aren’t. The veins in my legs have risen to a whole new level of artistic expression. My thighs have gone from small curd to large curd. And my upper arms haven’t stopped flapping since I waved goodbye to last summer… Continue reading
A couple of people have asked me to post this. I hesitate for fear of people thinking I’m a parenting expert in any way. THAT IS NOT THE CASE. At. All.
However, I have tried various ways to keep my teens active, learning, helpful, and growing over the summer. About four years ago, I came up with this plan, and it stuck.
Enough set-up. Here’s what we do. Not perfectly. Not without grumbling. But it seems to keep us out of trouble… Continue reading
As a Sunday school coordinator, and as our session is ending, I’ve been thinking a lot about what our students have learned this year.
We studied parables, Old Testament prophecies, the significance of the Passover, and The Great Commission. I expected them to learn these things, and I’m glad they did. But as I observed, taught, and listened, I realize they also learned some lessons that we didn’t plan, lessons that might end up hurting them – and the church – in the end… Continue reading
It’s called Five Minute Friday. Each week, we write freely on a one-word prompt. Then we link up at the amazing Kate Motaung’s site. It’s a flash mob of writers- having fun and sharing their take on one word. This week’s prompt is RISE.
When the morning alarm sounds, sometimes I think I’d seriously sell my soul to just stay under the covers.
Where it’s warm, dark, and quiet. Where I don’t have to face the demands of the day. Where I can block out the pressure, the stress. Where life can’t reach me and I can just be. Continue reading
I entered the room and found her studying her reflection in the mirror, a girlish habit that sends up a maternal red-flag. “Do you like it, Mom?”
She was trying on a hand-me down dress given to her by an older friend. She tugged at the ill-fitting neckline and bodice; her body not yet the shape for its womanly cut.
I gotta give her credit. The girl dreams big.
And she’s a lot like me.
She pulled at the fabric and shifted her body until her reflection matched how she felt: bigger, older, and like someone else.
I’m honored to be featured at God Sized Dreams today. Please follow me there to read the rest of the story…
We whisper about it in church hallways. We turn our head away from it at the parks and we hide it in our homes. We warn our kids about it and hate it in ourselves.
Addiction.
It’s nothing new. From tobacco to technology. From crack to caffeine. From over-working to binge-watching. From generation to generation, we’ve traded one addiction for another.
It’s an effect of the fall, we say. We shake our fists at the devil and hang our heads. Come, Lord Jesus, we say, and dream of the day when we can be free. Continue reading
It was that heavy time of day. You know, that time when you realize that another day is slipping away and all you have to show for it is a bigger pile of dishes, more laundry, and the same stagnant set of worries from the days before.
You know, that time of day when everyone’s tired, but restless. Hungry, but fed-up. Fragile, but rock-hard. When school is over, but homework is looming. After friends have disappointed, but before siblings are appreciated.
You know, that time of motherhood when the problems are too big to wrap in a blanket and conflicts don’t end with a time-out. When a pacifier or teddy bear just won’t cut it. When being a mom just isn’t enough. Continue reading
It’s called Five Minute Friday. Each week, we write freely on a one-word prompt. Then we link up at the amazing Kate Motaung’s site. It’s a flash mob of writers- having fun and sharing their take on one word. This week’s prompt is MEET.
Bacon, burgers, Thanksgiving turkey, filet mignon.
I love it all. I don’t know how vegetarians do it with their soy burgers and tofu…
It’s at the center of the table and the highlight of the meal. It’s at the heart of the grill and the way into the hearts of manly men. Continue reading
In her kitchen, I didn’t learn much about cooking, but discovered the importance of fun over fussiness.
In her family room, I didn’t learn much about parlor etiquette, but fell in love with family.
In her dressing room, I didn’t learn how to purse my lips or or paint my face, but learned to keep smiling at the girl in the mirror. Continue reading
It’s called Five Minute Friday. Each week, we write freely on a one-word prompt. Then we link up at the amazing Kate Motaung’s site. It’s a flash mob of writers- having fun and sharing their take on one word. This week’s prompt was DOOR.
This is not what was supposed to happen…not what he planned.
He stumbled down the road, stinking from pride and poor decisions.
He had tried to make a name for himself, but ruined his reputation and his future instead. Continue reading
There’s always something.
It never ends.
It’s one thing after another.
I hear it all day long. Life’s a bxxch. The struggle is real. Come, Lord Jesus.
I want to run.
I want to be like Peter, the disciple who ran for the tomb on the third day. The one who leaned in to the emptiness and believed.
“Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” So Peter went out with the other disciple, and they were going toward the tomb. Both of them were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. And stooping to look in, he saw…” (John 20: 1-5)
I read the story of the Resurrection and cheer Peter on. My soul runs with him, toward the hope that I know is there… because I know the story so well. Because I love happy endings and want one for Peter- whose floundering faith reminds me so much of my own. Continue reading
The Law was etched into it, carving God’s people out of the world and into holiness. It was held high then smashed to the ground in a frustrated rage – because all fall short. A stone mirror reflecting a broken people.
They placed their offerings upon it. An altar without rest, and messy from endless efforts to cover their own sin. Spilling gallon upon gallon of the wrong kind of blood. A stone table for doing work their hands could never finish. Continue reading
My husband came home and asked, “How was your day?”
My mind flashed to the tantrums, spilled cereal, dog vomit, and leaking dishwasher. But I heard my mouth say, “Good. It was a good day.” Continue reading
Jonathan Dockery*, a young, hip artist, in his last semester at seminary, created this video for Easter. I have no words. It’s beautiful.
I pray it brings you the hope of the Restoration.
*Jonathan works as a graphic designer at Central Presbyterian Church and attends Covenant Theological Seminary.
When I was little, I wished I would break a bone. For real. I wished I had a fantastic story to tell about how I was rushed to the emergency room, about how the doctors weren’t sure they could fix me, and about how I was brave through it all. I actually prayed for it for a while, then I took matters into my own hands. Continue reading
I sat in the tiny chair, held up the Picture Bible a little higher for effect, and spoke in my best Miss Pattycake voice…
“…then, Jesus wrapped a towel around His waist and washed their feet.”
They stared at me like little robots. Clearly, they aren’t paying attention, I thought. Continue reading
We sat in the parking lot with our mouths open wide, every parental fiber wanting to march in there and drag our son back to the car.
Van loads of middle-school girls wearing booty shorts and skin-tight t-shirts giggled into the mixer.
“Is there a volleyball game tonight?” I asked, hopefully. Continue reading
Stooping For Manna 
