the human condition
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The 12 blogs of Christmas #11: Welcome
We step into a house with a newborn like we’re stepping into a bubble, in breathless wonder. Babies are so easy to welcome. So disarming, so nonthreatening. So unifying, because we all started out like that—as a trembling, mewling newborn. Utterly, almost frighteningly, dependent.All of us: President Obama. The artist/athlete/superstar you like. That guy from Duck Dynasty. The person who drives you nuts. At the start we’re the same, same, same. Human. Only a human gets another human. My dog doesn’t totally get me. My Christmas tree doesn’t get me, neither do the glorious stars or a sunset or the birds flying overhead. Only humanity can empathize with humanity. And…
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The 12 blogs of Christmas #7: Ponder
(This is a re-post. *First Ponder was written shortly after the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting in Connecticut in Dec. of 2012) Today is a snow day. A perfect day to ponder and lately, I’ve been pondering what it means to ponder…. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. (Luke 2:19) Mary did not endure packed Wal-Mart aisles. She wasn’t in charge of baking the Christmas ham, didn’t stress over gingerbread cookies or family coming over or finding last minute stocking stuffers. She wasn’t hunting down the scotch tape or waiting in line at the post office, or figuring out what to wear or…
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The 12 Blogs of Christmas #6: little kicking kings
The Christmas story contains a villain and it isn’t Ebenezer Scrooge. Naturally, we focus on the angels, the extraordinary star, the sweet baby. But in the midst of all this lurks a villain: King Herod. King Herod the… um… Great. Or so he said. If he felt anyone was a threat to his power he had them slaughtered—including his wife, her mother, and several of his own sons. In fact, Augustus Caesar said it would be better to be Herod’s pig than his son! Ouch. King Herod the Paranoid Tyrant is more like it. He was all about control. Having it, exerting it, and holding on to it. Herod was…
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The Twelve Blogs of Christmas: #2 Peace
I have lost the A in PEACE. The stockings are hung by the chimney in aggravation because my mantelpiece bears a typo: P E C E. So reads my stocking hangers. Rearranging them only renders further nonsense: CEEP. PEEC. ECEP. There isn’t much you can do without that A. I kind of need that A. Oh where oh where is that wayward A? Somewhere in my basement, no doubt, to be uncovered when I’m packing up the stockings. Decoratively speaking, I have been robbed of my PEACE. Peace is an illusive thing. Almost indefinable. Is peace the absence of war and conflict? But what if conflict or war leads to…
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The Freedom in No
As some of you may know, starting on January 1st of this year, I decided to go on a year long shopping fast and I have reached the halfway mark. In the past six months, I have not bought a t-shirt, a tank, a pair of jeans, a pair of mittens, a purse, or a scarf, and I refrained myself from rifling through the clearance racks or stockpiling at the Land’s End sale or drooling over the dresses on ModCloth. Perhaps I should begin this post with some hugely spiritual life-changing epiphany. Sorry. I just can’t. I have to get something off my chest: I want to shop. In a…
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Prove You’re Not a Robot
Apparently I’m a robot. At least according to the captcha that forces me to translate a string of numbers or letters to prove my humanness. (I only know that term because my brilliant husband just told me what this annoying test is called.) I usually fail on the first try. Sometimes the second. I think it’s because I’m sporadically, numerically dyslexic, meaning I sometimes switch certain numbers, particularly 3, 6, and 9 but only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. This come-and-go disability makes balancing the checkbook and doing the taxes loads of fun. Anyway, when I fail the prove-you’re-not-a-robot-test I get a little bit defensive. I mean for Pete’s sake, is…
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First, Ponder
Today’s a snow day. A perfect day to ponder and lately, I’ve been pondering what it means to ponder…. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. (Luke 2:19) Mary did not endure packed Wal-Mart aisles. She wasn’t in charge of baking the Christmas ham, didn’t stress over gingerbread cookies or family coming over or finding last minute stocking stuffers. She wasn’t hunting down the scotch tape or waiting in line at the post office, or figuring out what to wear or what dish to bring to what party. Mary was pregnant. And she was a virgin. Which made her prime suspect for public and…
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Words Never Spoken
I once had to do something really mean to a character and it took me by surprise. The story needed it, but I didn’t know until all of a sudden, while I was writing, it hit me—what I had to do—and it left me feeling a little sick. Oh no. Not that. This is gonna hurt. But it had to be done. For the sake of the story. Writers are cruel, cruel beings. So I took a breath and apologized out loud to my character before I stabbed her in the back. Then I fleshed out the scene, blew my nose, and took my kids to the park as…
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Spring is a Diva
This March, like every other March I suppose, I’m skeptical that Spring will make good on its promise to arrive. In fact, Spring seems to be turning into a bit of a diva, like a teenager who will only make an appearance when they’re fashionably late. Spring has taunted us with flashes of green grass and Robin Red Breasts. But just when we’re putting the boots away… “Just kidding!” Spring pelts us with snow like a pie in the face before dashing off again. Ah, Spring. You little tease. If you are blessed to live in the southern part of Wisconsin or in another state altogether, (you lucky, lucky, bird)…