Is there such a thing as a monthly sin?
Because I think I have one of those.
Is there such a thing as a monthly sin?
Because I think I have one of those.
So I’ve been presenting our church’s announcements lately. Which y’know, wouldn’t be that big of a thing if they didn’t…tape me. So far, every Sunday, I shrink a little in my seat as the monitor enlarges my prerecorded face to two feet tall. True, I see this little video as a distinct hospitality, inviting people into our church’s activities and community, making them feel welcome and relaxed, maybe even laugh a little.
But it’s time for me to admit some straight-up immaturity on my part. (I’ve written about my gnarly body-image issues before. )After seeing meticulous beauty all the time on TV, it’s hard not to succumb to the eyes of our culture’s usual bait-and-switch, our love affair with an attractive veneer. I hone in on my flaws: My crazy-curly hair is pretty set on doing its own thing. The woman doing it before me was probably a size 4. And could we position the camera up a little so my chin doesn’t look so double-y?
The horrific news from Florida has all of us reeling. It’s leaving far more questions than answers in its wake. And it’s possible your kids are contending with some of the same questions we as parents are: “Is my school safe?” (If it helps, Keys for Kids just posted this devotional story to read with your kids.)
A few thoughts as you consider what to say to them.
It needs to be said. Blogging about parenting can feel a little like heading for an outhouse in a snowstorm, y’know?
Because honestly, there’s waaaaay too much I don’t get right. (And aren’t we all a little skeptical of the people who seem to be doing it with Pinterest perfection?) Sometimes I pull up a chair to blog about parenting and I’m thinking, Which failure shall I blog about this month?
From the beginning, I think God’s had it out for me to shake up my (firstborn, overachieving, idealistic) parenting goals. As in, pretty soon after those two little lines turned pink.
So last night was one of my favorite kinds: date night. I won’t gush too much. But suffice it to say I don’t take for granted being married to my best friend. I love tucking myself under his arm at a movie, laughing at the jokes together, wandering around a bookstore and laughing at off-the-wall titles, sharing real conversation that changes us right over the tops of plates from our favorite salad bar. I guess there were probably a few productive parts of the evening, but mostly we just get to enjoy each other. To revel in being an “us.”
Ask any widow, anyone who serves overseas, anyone who’s just sent their child back to college: There’s a luxury to simply being with the people we love.
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