This morning as my 14-year-old scarfed down chicken-maple sausage links before school, I pulled Tim Keller’s devo (for adults) on Proverbs off the kitchen’s half-wall, where it sits by the fruit bowl. These pages have become to me a quietly cherished part of our routine.
There’s something about Proverbs’ concrete wisdom and word pictures for developing young brains that makes this book wonderfully tactile. (And bless the person who divided it neatly into 31 chapters, one per day of the month.)
The dog licked me awake early this morning. Well, early for my slumbering house of teenagers house. And I stayed awake for the quiet.
As I type to you, snow layers the landscape out my window like fondant. I love its muting effect–on schedules, on sound. My life craves more quiet, for the love of Mike. And the end of the year always seems to hush my own soul into a more contemplative place.
Question: Are you the fun parent?
I am not.
This week has dabbled in the frenetic at my house. Uh. More than usual.
Rather than writing you a half-baked post, I’m pulling from the archives some chalkboard art of a printable prayer–an artistic version of this challenging Franciscan benediction:
My friend’s alienation crackled through the phone line. “I don’t know. I keep doing all the right things. But a lot of times I don’t feel close to God, you know?”
My friend described time in Scripture and prayer, their attempts to live in ways that pleased God. Yeah, I definitely believe there are things we can do to move closer to God. I also know what it’s like to feel like God is endlessly, silently away from you.
Today, my oldest is headed for continued training with the Marines; the 1987 Nissan Z he’s been flipping–the one the still needs the muffler?–sits resignedly outside. My youngest, a delight and a straight-up handful, is with extended family. And thanks to this past year’s new puppy, I’m up early.
(This morning’s tea choice: Stash’s Licorice Spice. But since we’re talking New Year’s, my favorite of 2022 has definitely been Tazo’s Glazed Lemon Loaf.)
Happy (American) almost-Thanksgiving!
It’s great timing. Again. My family needs a day of gratitude.
Dear readers–I’m pulling this one from the archives today for you…mostly because it was what I needed. -J.
Do you remember the first time you wondered if God really was good?
A few months ago around the dinner table, the topic of conversation landed on what Disney character best described each of us.
My husband was Mufasa from the Lion King; my oldest has always born a resemblance to Cars’ Lightning McQueen, while my second son makes us laugh like Tow Mater (and happens to be going through a Duck Dynasty phase? I digress.) I may have had some references to Mary Poppins, or Ms. Potts from Beauty and the Beast. (Sigh.) The jury’s still out on my daughter (maybe Belle, maybe Lilo).
But my youngest son is a whole lot like Dash from The Incredibles–often seen merely in a blur. Friends have likened him to a cartoon character before, so this isn’t new. He’s also my two-sports-at-a-time kid nearly every season.
This week on a phone conversation with a friend, she asked what’s become our custom at the end of our calls: What’s one intimate prayer request I can pray for?
It was probably telling that I didn’t really know.
![Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language](https://www.janelbreitenstein.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/love-languages-text-1.jpg "Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language")
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