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Learning London
I never expected to mourn the loss of a three-ring-binder, but I have. Thinking I was smart to save on room/weight when we moved overseas, and assuming I could easily buy a three ring binder once in London, I packed my plastic sleeve encased recipes without the binder, only to find that three ring binders…
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Treasure Up
With the hoopla over and done with, Christmas odds and ends now line store shelves bearing garish clearance priced stickers, just as Christmas leftovers line our refrigerator. (Is anyone going to eat the rest of this turkey? Please?) Carol singing and candle-lit services give way to the cold reality of January and our mentality shifts from…
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A Pilgrim in Progress
Since the world outside of the U.S. doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving, here in London this past Thursday was, in many ways just another ordinary day. Except that it wasn’t. It was Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday. So Doug and I traveled into the city on a jammed packed rush hour train to attend “Thanksgiving Day Service for…
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Queued for Grace
I limped over the UK border at my weakest point, and perhaps that was for the best. The plane ride from Chicago to London was wonderfully uneventful, until the final hour when my insides turned against me. Not the kind of turning that left me reaching for that little paper bag in the pocket in…
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I blinked
Wasn’t it yesterday that we forgot the chicken in the microwave? That day when the nurse called to tell me that my strep test came back negative, but my pregnancy test came back positive, and in our delirious excitement we neglected the chicken thawing in the microwave for dinner, forgot about it until breakfast, and…
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The Sign I want to Revise
The colors lured me in, as did the $3 price tag. (Shout out for second hand shops!) And even though it’s been hanging in my house for a good four years, something about the sentiment has always struck me as… incomplete. Missing the mark somehow. Home is where your story begins. True enough, but lacking.…
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When Hope Died
Oh it was bleak Those days in between. When hope was dead. Not wounded or missing, ill or asleep but dead. Lamb followed freely to the execution tree And before their own eyes, hope breathed his last. Spear pierced in, evidence poured out Body was lowered, wrapped-up, entombed. Hope said it himself, with final exhale:…
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My Word for the Year is a Four-letter One: Part 2
So apparently Joy Behar thinks Mike Pence is crazy, for talking with Jesus and all. In a way, I get that. Why wouldn’t she think Pence, or anyone, is crazy for following and listening to someone she probably thinks was a good, but dead, teacher. Unless you believe the resurrection, talking with Jesus is crazy.…
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My Word for the Year is a Four Letter One
The new year is off to a rocky start. That’s the sense I’m getting from more than a few people I’ve talked to. And although I could make a gratitude list as long as my dining room table, my January didn’t start off so hot either. Feverish, maybe because by the time January rolled in…
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Rachel Allord 