She came over this morning with her two children.
They have all been here before.
I know just the right toys for her children.
There are favorite things that they usually play with when they are here.

This mom is about seventeen years younger than me.
I have walked where she is now walking.
It is a friendship/mentoring relationship.
I glean much from our relationship and I hope she does as well.

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I spent the morning with two very special friends.
One lived on my street growing up and we played together when we were girls.
The other lived a few miles away but we were friends all throughout grade school.
One has Facebook, the other does not.

We get together for our annual breakfast.
We pick up right where we left off.
We each remember the important things that we talked about last.
We each remember the things that matter only to the three of us.

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I cleaned the glass top table on the deck.
I looked out my kitchen window and I saw a thin layer of yellow dust on the top.
I went out to clean it again.
My paper towel was covered with the same yellow dust.

Pollen.
A thin layer of pollen was over everything.
I should have known by the amount of tissues that was being used in our house.
It is the season for allergies.

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We’ve all done it at one time or another.
We’ve texted the wrong person.
We are in the middle of two conversation streams.
We answer what we just read but we responded to the wrong stream.

It can be embarrassing.
Even when we purpose to look up and make sure the recipient is the correct one, we don’t.
In our rush to respond, we just type and send.
We really need to check and double check.

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Sometimes, you come upon a story that changes your perspective.
One such story happened a few weeks ago.
It changed the perspective of many people.
It spurred them on at a time when news stories seem to be getting worse instead of better.

It all happened in Vancouver, Washington.
A woman was going through a Dutch Bros. drive-through window to get some coffee.
It was a familiar scene for the baristas at this little coffee shop.
Except this particular day it would be different.

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My husband had traveled to the Philippines to build homes.
He volunteers once a year and travels around the world to meet the needs of others.
His dream is to build homes on every continent.
He only has Europe and Africa left to make that dream come true. (Antarctica is not on the list)

He is typically gone for two and a half weeks when he makes these trips.
It is usually the middle of winter when he does this trip.
I keep myself very busy while he’s gone.
It is a time to catch up with friends for lunch or dinner.

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When my husband is traveling, things are a bit different around the house.
My music is played a little louder.
My dinner may be a wonderful salad with every vegetable imaginable.
My errands can run a bit longer since I don’t have to rush home.

One thing that I particularly enjoy is talking out loud to God before I fall asleep.
I always feel that God is close to me, but those times of sweet conversation are precious.
I say whatever is on my heart.
I know that I am heard.

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In the TV series, Christy, based on the book by Catherine Marshall, there is a powerful scene.
It is a scene that touches on race relations and the idea of acceptance.
The characters of Haddie McCabe and Daniel Scott forged an unlikely friendship.
Haddie was white and Daniel was black in the early 1900’s in the backwoods of Tennessee.

Haddie was also blind due to an disease that tended to affect the mountain people.
Daniel stayed on the outskirts of the Cove since he was different than everyone else.
The residents of the Cove did not welcome Daniel, who was in Cutter Gap to learn to be a doctor.
He wanted to be under the tutelage of Dr. Mac Neill so he could learn to treat his own people.

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I am blessed to be asked to speak to groups of women.
Often, I will speak to groups of young mothers.
Others times, I have spoken to groups of women of various ages.
It is always a humble privilege.

Being asked to speak is one thing.
Feeling adequate to speak is another.
I can never speak in my own strength.
I need God’s help, His words, and His heart if I am to speak to any group of women.

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My husband was away on business.
I was sitting in my favorite chair reading a good book.
Everything was quiet and peaceful.
Just the right conditions for falling asleep with the book on my lap.

However, not this time.
I heard a noise and felt a vibration.
I immediately thought of a plane flying low overhead.
I went into the foyer and opened the front door.

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