My son Brad is a second-year film student at The University of Kansas, and he truly loves making films. I should have known years ago when he would spend hours making up stories and adventures that he would someday parlay his storytelling talent into creating films. There is no doubt in my mind that he will make his mark in the world by sharing the gift that God has blessed him with.
His most recent project is a video promo for my book that he has posted on YouTube and GodTube. It took some serious persuading from Brad to get me to step out of my comfort zone and into the realm of the World Wide Web. It began in April with a website dedicated to my speaking ministry, something Brad assures me I should have done years ago. Then came joining several online speakers' bureaus, and having my book on Amazon.com. And now, my talented and visionary son has convinced me to allow him to use his talent to create the book video promo and post it for all the world to see. Talk about teaching an old dog new tricks!
To say that I'm proud of Brad would be an understatement, but not because of his vision in the films that he produces. I'm proud of Brad for the man that he is becoming, for the love he gives so freely to me, for his kind and caring heart, and for his selfless generosity to others. I look forward with great anticipation as to how God's plan for Brad's life will play out in the future.
If you're so inclined, you should check out the video. Just go to YouTube.com or GodTube.com, and search for Lord, Help! Here Comes Mom! Trust me on this one ... it's well worth the five minutes it takes to view it.
And Brad ... I have a feeling that your little Granny would be real proud of you, too!
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Turkey, Taters and Gravy
For many years, Thanksgiving was an extra-special holiday for me. Since I moved away from my hometown of Chattanooga, Tennessee, almost 20 years ago, Thanksgiving was always the holiday when we traveled back home to spend the week with our extended family. I would look forward to the trip for weeks beforehand.
As my parents aged, the trips became even more special with each passing year. We would all gather at Mom and Dad's for turkey with all the fixings. I especially looked forward to Mom's pumpkin pie, made from my grandmother's recipe. I remember one year in particular when Mom forgot to add the sugar to the pies, and when we all kept saying that they tasted different, Mom's laughter rang through the kitchen as she told us that she forgot the sugar. By the time she realized her mistake, the pies were almost done, and she thought she could pass them off with none of us the wiser.
Now that my children are all grown and have begun their own lives, we didn't travel back to Tennessee last year and we won't be going this year. In fact, this year, only one of my children will be home for the holiday. Matt and Becca have to work and/or are on call for their counseling responsibilities, so they can't come home. Meghann is traveling to her boyfriend's family's and will be gone for most of the week. Brad has a special girl in his life, and her family has graciously invited Brad and I to share Thanksgiving with them.
I must admit that learning to accept the changes that have come with my children growing up hasn't always been easy for me. Perhaps because as a single mother for many, many years, the kids and I spent almost every holiday together. But I've learned in the last few years to cherish the times we have together and that the "holiday" isn't defined by the day, but rather by the time we are together. If that's the day before or after, or even the week before or after, I make the most of "how" we celebrate and not "when."
So this year, I'm thankful for my children, for my brother and sister, for my nieces and nephews, my great nieces and nephews, and even the hounds who live with me. I'm thankful for my health, for the energy to perform my job each day and for a warm house in which to live. I'm most thankful for God's abundant grace and mercy that He bestows on me each day. I'm more and more thankful each day for the gift of salvation through my Lord and Savior and for the hope of eternity.
And last, but certainly not least, I'm thankful for turkey, taters and gravy.
Happy Thanksgiving!
As my parents aged, the trips became even more special with each passing year. We would all gather at Mom and Dad's for turkey with all the fixings. I especially looked forward to Mom's pumpkin pie, made from my grandmother's recipe. I remember one year in particular when Mom forgot to add the sugar to the pies, and when we all kept saying that they tasted different, Mom's laughter rang through the kitchen as she told us that she forgot the sugar. By the time she realized her mistake, the pies were almost done, and she thought she could pass them off with none of us the wiser.
Now that my children are all grown and have begun their own lives, we didn't travel back to Tennessee last year and we won't be going this year. In fact, this year, only one of my children will be home for the holiday. Matt and Becca have to work and/or are on call for their counseling responsibilities, so they can't come home. Meghann is traveling to her boyfriend's family's and will be gone for most of the week. Brad has a special girl in his life, and her family has graciously invited Brad and I to share Thanksgiving with them.
I must admit that learning to accept the changes that have come with my children growing up hasn't always been easy for me. Perhaps because as a single mother for many, many years, the kids and I spent almost every holiday together. But I've learned in the last few years to cherish the times we have together and that the "holiday" isn't defined by the day, but rather by the time we are together. If that's the day before or after, or even the week before or after, I make the most of "how" we celebrate and not "when."
So this year, I'm thankful for my children, for my brother and sister, for my nieces and nephews, my great nieces and nephews, and even the hounds who live with me. I'm thankful for my health, for the energy to perform my job each day and for a warm house in which to live. I'm most thankful for God's abundant grace and mercy that He bestows on me each day. I'm more and more thankful each day for the gift of salvation through my Lord and Savior and for the hope of eternity.
And last, but certainly not least, I'm thankful for turkey, taters and gravy.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Walking the Path
This afternoon, I grabbed my camera and headed to the walking path across the street from my house. My intention was to spend an hour or so taking pictures of the beautiful trees that are now an explosion of reds, yellows and oranges in their celebration of the fall season. I set up my tripod, framed up several shots and waited for the perfect lighting.
As I took photo after photo, I often had to pause as people passed through the line of my shot. An older couple walking hand in hand deep in conversation. A young woman out for an afternoon run. A teenage boy walking a large black dog. A young father pushing his son in a stroller. The more people who passed by, the more I began to wonder who they are and what their lives are like. Are they happy? Are they surrounded by friends and family who love them? Do they have jobs? And if so, are they satisfied with their work? Do they know Jesus? Are they certain of where they will spend eternity?
We all walk different paths in life, and we make choices each day that impact the paths we've chosen. Some days, I feel as if I've made the best decisions I can and that I am in the center of God's desire for my life. Other days, I feel as though I'm wandering along, not certain of what to do or which way to go. I'm thankful, so very thankful, that whether I'm having a good day or a not so good day, God always has me in the palm of His mighty hand and that He is the one who holds my future.
As I packed up my camera and tripod and walked toward home, I stopped along the path and offered up a prayer. A prayer of thanksgiving, a prayer of hope, a prayer of petition for those around me who aren't walking the path of God, a prayer offering my all in service to the One who died for me.
Oh, and the photos? They are awesome!
As I took photo after photo, I often had to pause as people passed through the line of my shot. An older couple walking hand in hand deep in conversation. A young woman out for an afternoon run. A teenage boy walking a large black dog. A young father pushing his son in a stroller. The more people who passed by, the more I began to wonder who they are and what their lives are like. Are they happy? Are they surrounded by friends and family who love them? Do they have jobs? And if so, are they satisfied with their work? Do they know Jesus? Are they certain of where they will spend eternity?
We all walk different paths in life, and we make choices each day that impact the paths we've chosen. Some days, I feel as if I've made the best decisions I can and that I am in the center of God's desire for my life. Other days, I feel as though I'm wandering along, not certain of what to do or which way to go. I'm thankful, so very thankful, that whether I'm having a good day or a not so good day, God always has me in the palm of His mighty hand and that He is the one who holds my future.
As I packed up my camera and tripod and walked toward home, I stopped along the path and offered up a prayer. A prayer of thanksgiving, a prayer of hope, a prayer of petition for those around me who aren't walking the path of God, a prayer offering my all in service to the One who died for me.
Oh, and the photos? They are awesome!
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Watching Them Grow
My son Brad celebrated his 21st birthday last weekend. As we all gathered at his apartment to spend the day together, I had one of those "mom" moments. If you're a mother, you know the moment well. And if you're a mother of adult children, you know exactly the type of moment I'm talking about. The moment when you look at your adult son or daughter, and all you can think about are memories from their childhood.
As I watched Brad interacting with his girlfriend and his siblings, my eyes saw him as an adult while my brain pictured him pretending to be a fireman, dressed in a plastic red hat, yellow coat and rubber boots; playing Little League baseball; catching bugs in his little bug holder and setting them free minutes later; participating in children's choir; and shooting hoops on our driveway. I look at Matt and Becca, and find it difficult to believe that my oldest son is married. I see Matt dressed as a Ninja Turtle; assembling Lego projects; driving his battery-powered Jeep; catching his first fish; and getting into trouble at church camp for cow-tipping. My eyes move to Meghann, and I am so aware, as I am every time I look at her, that she is truly a beautiful girl. From birth, she had striking blue eyes and gorgeous blond hair. I remember her painting her name on her carpet with red nail polish; dressing like a princess; lining her stuffed animals up for "school"; learning to swim and dive in our neighbor's pool; and singing in choir concerts.
I'm happy to be in the place I am now with my adult children, part parent, part friend. There's nothing more fun for me than to spend time with them whether individually or all of them together. It is awesome to see my family growing through marriage and girlfriends and boyfriends. But, even as I type these words, I'm also aware of how quickly it seems my children have grown into adults. Only yesterday, they were at my feet playing, and today, they are each making their own way in the world.
I often think of the saying that a good parent gives their children roots and wings. My prayer is that my children always feel grounded in my love for them, and that they soar high above the clouds in their adventures through life. And I thank God for the gift of each of them ... every morning and every night ... thank you, Lord, for such precious gifts.
As I watched Brad interacting with his girlfriend and his siblings, my eyes saw him as an adult while my brain pictured him pretending to be a fireman, dressed in a plastic red hat, yellow coat and rubber boots; playing Little League baseball; catching bugs in his little bug holder and setting them free minutes later; participating in children's choir; and shooting hoops on our driveway. I look at Matt and Becca, and find it difficult to believe that my oldest son is married. I see Matt dressed as a Ninja Turtle; assembling Lego projects; driving his battery-powered Jeep; catching his first fish; and getting into trouble at church camp for cow-tipping. My eyes move to Meghann, and I am so aware, as I am every time I look at her, that she is truly a beautiful girl. From birth, she had striking blue eyes and gorgeous blond hair. I remember her painting her name on her carpet with red nail polish; dressing like a princess; lining her stuffed animals up for "school"; learning to swim and dive in our neighbor's pool; and singing in choir concerts.
I'm happy to be in the place I am now with my adult children, part parent, part friend. There's nothing more fun for me than to spend time with them whether individually or all of them together. It is awesome to see my family growing through marriage and girlfriends and boyfriends. But, even as I type these words, I'm also aware of how quickly it seems my children have grown into adults. Only yesterday, they were at my feet playing, and today, they are each making their own way in the world.
I often think of the saying that a good parent gives their children roots and wings. My prayer is that my children always feel grounded in my love for them, and that they soar high above the clouds in their adventures through life. And I thank God for the gift of each of them ... every morning and every night ... thank you, Lord, for such precious gifts.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Beyond Belief
Each time I participate in a women's conference, I come away wanting to do so much more in service to my Lord. This weekend was no exception; in fact, I feel the calling on my life growing deeper and stronger than ever before.
The theme for the weekend (every women's conference has to have a theme!) was Beyond Belief. The keynote speaker focused on the life of Peter in her messages, beginning with his failures and ending with his victories and depth of faith that grew out of his adversities. As I listened to the words that God had given her, I felt God calling me to grow deeper in my own faith, to stretch in my trusting of Him, to go beyond my belief in Him and step out of the boat and onto the rolling waves, to take His hand and follow Him wherever He may lead.
I've been speaking for women's events for quite a few years, and I was asked to lead a session this weekend entitled "A Heart Beyond Belief." As I prayed and prepared for the session, as is often the case, God spoke to me about the condition of my own heart. As I studied about what it truly means to have a pure heart, a heart that follows hard after God and His will for my life, I realized that I needed to ask God to wash my own heart, to scrub me clean, to make me pure.
It is so easy to let little things creep into my life that cause a shadow to fall over my relationship with my heavenly Father. It is so easy to allow being too busy to keep me from spending the time I should in God's Word. It is so easy to make excuses as to why I can't step out in faith and follow God wherever and whenever He calls. The very morning I was to lead this session, I found myself on my knees by the side of my bed crying out to God to wash me, clean me, and make me the woman He wants me to be.
I think I would do well to learn from the example of David and cry out, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me."
The theme for the weekend (every women's conference has to have a theme!) was Beyond Belief. The keynote speaker focused on the life of Peter in her messages, beginning with his failures and ending with his victories and depth of faith that grew out of his adversities. As I listened to the words that God had given her, I felt God calling me to grow deeper in my own faith, to stretch in my trusting of Him, to go beyond my belief in Him and step out of the boat and onto the rolling waves, to take His hand and follow Him wherever He may lead.
I've been speaking for women's events for quite a few years, and I was asked to lead a session this weekend entitled "A Heart Beyond Belief." As I prayed and prepared for the session, as is often the case, God spoke to me about the condition of my own heart. As I studied about what it truly means to have a pure heart, a heart that follows hard after God and His will for my life, I realized that I needed to ask God to wash my own heart, to scrub me clean, to make me pure.
It is so easy to let little things creep into my life that cause a shadow to fall over my relationship with my heavenly Father. It is so easy to allow being too busy to keep me from spending the time I should in God's Word. It is so easy to make excuses as to why I can't step out in faith and follow God wherever and whenever He calls. The very morning I was to lead this session, I found myself on my knees by the side of my bed crying out to God to wash me, clean me, and make me the woman He wants me to be.
I think I would do well to learn from the example of David and cry out, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me."
Sunday, September 7, 2008
It's Officially Official
Yep, it's officially official. My first book is now available on Amazon.com and createspace.com. There really aren't words to describe how it felt to view the pages and read the first review of my book. Maybe humbling would fit. Or maybe grateful. Or maybe excited. Or maybe even official. Or maybe all of those combined.
One thing I know for sure is that God is the One who should receive any accolades or glory because of the book. He is the One who gave me the words to put on the pages and the time to put them there. He is the reason I live and breathe each day, and He is the giver of all things. Without Him, I would be nothing.
There are many people to thank for their encouragement as I wrote the book, too many to mention here. You who offered support and words of wisdom ... you who told me to persevere when I wanted to quit ... you who read and edited and read and edited again. Each of you deserve my deepest gratitude for your help and my deepest appreciation for your unconditional love and friendship.
It will be fun to see what God has in store for the book as people begin to read it. My prayer is that readers will be touched and drawn into a closer relationship with God and with their families.
I often wonder if those who have gone before us know of things here on earth. If they do, I'm sure that Mom is in heaven saying, "Lord, help! She's done gone and wrote a book about me!"
I have, Mom, I have indeed.
http://www.createspace.com/3352848
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_gw?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Terrie+Dennard+Johnson&x=15&y=28
One thing I know for sure is that God is the One who should receive any accolades or glory because of the book. He is the One who gave me the words to put on the pages and the time to put them there. He is the reason I live and breathe each day, and He is the giver of all things. Without Him, I would be nothing.
There are many people to thank for their encouragement as I wrote the book, too many to mention here. You who offered support and words of wisdom ... you who told me to persevere when I wanted to quit ... you who read and edited and read and edited again. Each of you deserve my deepest gratitude for your help and my deepest appreciation for your unconditional love and friendship.
It will be fun to see what God has in store for the book as people begin to read it. My prayer is that readers will be touched and drawn into a closer relationship with God and with their families.
I often wonder if those who have gone before us know of things here on earth. If they do, I'm sure that Mom is in heaven saying, "Lord, help! She's done gone and wrote a book about me!"
I have, Mom, I have indeed.
http://www.createspace.com/3352848
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_gw?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Terrie+Dennard+Johnson&x=15&y=28
Friday, August 29, 2008
Lord, Help!
For as long as I can remember, I've dreamed of becoming a writer. Over the years, I've had some articles published, written for various women's newsletters, and even sold quite a few of my poems. But my real dream has always been to write a book and see it published.
On Thursday, I received the proof copy of my first book, "Lord, Help! Here Comes Mom!" As I stood on my driveway and tore open the envelope containing the book, tears began to fill my eyes as I held my first book in my trembling hands. For a writer, it's a completely overwhelming feeling to see your words in print, complete with cover art and your photo on the back. I know this sounds silly, but to me, one of the most awesome things was to see the ISBN number on the back cover. It made the book "official" somehow, real and tangible.
As you may surmise from the title, my book is about my mother and her cross-country move to Kansas from Tennessee after selling the house she had lived in for 47 years. A pretty big deal for someone at 85 years old. The folks who have read the book say that you'll laugh and you'll cry and you'll think about elder care in a whole new way. You'll get to know a single mother, teenaged children and a feisty little lady named Louise. You'll share their lives and meet their hearts as all their lives change and grow and mesh when Granny joins their daily routine.
I've read a lot about the "Sandwich Generation," the group of Baby Boomers who still have children living at home and elderly parents who need their care as well. Many families across the country are now finding themselves in this stage of life, and they are struggling to find their way and do what is best for each family member involved. My prayer is that "Lord, Help! Here Comes Mom!" will be a light to these families and a testimony to the incredible provision God makes when we seek to follow His path for our lives.
It will be a couple of weeks before the book is available, and I'll post purchasing information then. Since I was allowed to set the price of the book, my royalties for each book are quite minimal. You see, for me, it's not about making big bucks as a writer. It's about helping another single mother who wonders how she will be able to do everything she needs to do in a day. It's about giving hope to a family who is wrestling with caring for their elderly parents and not shortchanging their children living at home. It's about sharing the miracles of God's amazing grace, love and mercy at the times we need them most.
Happy reading!
On Thursday, I received the proof copy of my first book, "Lord, Help! Here Comes Mom!" As I stood on my driveway and tore open the envelope containing the book, tears began to fill my eyes as I held my first book in my trembling hands. For a writer, it's a completely overwhelming feeling to see your words in print, complete with cover art and your photo on the back. I know this sounds silly, but to me, one of the most awesome things was to see the ISBN number on the back cover. It made the book "official" somehow, real and tangible.
As you may surmise from the title, my book is about my mother and her cross-country move to Kansas from Tennessee after selling the house she had lived in for 47 years. A pretty big deal for someone at 85 years old. The folks who have read the book say that you'll laugh and you'll cry and you'll think about elder care in a whole new way. You'll get to know a single mother, teenaged children and a feisty little lady named Louise. You'll share their lives and meet their hearts as all their lives change and grow and mesh when Granny joins their daily routine.
I've read a lot about the "Sandwich Generation," the group of Baby Boomers who still have children living at home and elderly parents who need their care as well. Many families across the country are now finding themselves in this stage of life, and they are struggling to find their way and do what is best for each family member involved. My prayer is that "Lord, Help! Here Comes Mom!" will be a light to these families and a testimony to the incredible provision God makes when we seek to follow His path for our lives.
It will be a couple of weeks before the book is available, and I'll post purchasing information then. Since I was allowed to set the price of the book, my royalties for each book are quite minimal. You see, for me, it's not about making big bucks as a writer. It's about helping another single mother who wonders how she will be able to do everything she needs to do in a day. It's about giving hope to a family who is wrestling with caring for their elderly parents and not shortchanging their children living at home. It's about sharing the miracles of God's amazing grace, love and mercy at the times we need them most.
Happy reading!
Monday, August 11, 2008
With This Ring
My first camera was a Yashica 35 mm film model with an attached lens. I remember well the day I purchased that camera with my hard-earned babysitting money at the beginning of my sophomore year of high school. I was 15 and completely convinced that I would someday become a photographer for National Geographic and travel the world in search of the perfect, award-winning photo.
While I haven’t become an internationally famous shutterbug, I have over the years taken some pretty decent photos. A stint as a family photographer taught me the skill of posing people for portraits and how to wrangle a smile from an unsure toddler. Nature photos on vacations and working for an ad agency taught me the art of capturing special moments that happen in the blink of an eye.
And now, having come into the world of digital photography, I’ve recently started shooting for money … photos, that is. I’ve shot some senior pictures and several weddings over the last year or so, and it’s been a complete blast of fun and excitement.
Weddings are such unique and special events in the lives not only of the bride and groom but those of extended family and friends as well. Most often, weddings are happy, joyful events, and everyone involved has a great time. But there are some that are not so happy … families are in conflict, a loved one is missing, the young woman becomes “Bridezilla” the day of the ceremony, and so on. I’ve been fortunate to photograph many more happy ceremonies than sad, which makes my job even more fun.
Perhaps it’s because the older I get, the more I seem to focus on eternity, but I often find myself thinking of heaven as I’m photographing a wedding. In particular, I think often of the wedding feast of the Lamb that is described in Revelation 19: 7-9. Joy, happiness and unbridled praise for our Lord will accompany the magnificent celebration that God has planned for those who have loved and faithfully served Him while on earth. While the confidence of being present at God’s ultimate wedding reception brings me great hope and anticipation, I am also saddened when I see the multitudes that will never be part of that celebration.
God has given each of us the opportunity to say, “I do.”
Are you coming to the party?
“Then he said to me, ‘Write, ‘Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.’’ And he said to me, ‘These are true words of God.’” Revelation 19:9
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Woman's Best Friend
As I sit on the couch and begin to place my words of wisdom into this post, there is a yellowish furry creature pawing at my arm. She is trying her best to discourage me from typing and encourage me into playing tug of war with her instead. Her name is Julie, and she is a 65-pound yellow Labrador Retriever my son rescued from a shelter two years ago.
I've had dogs in my life for as long as I can remember, beginning with a little white dog named Frisky when I was nine years old. Then there was Rocky, Brandy, Cocoa, Choo-Choo, Ali and Cinnamon. One of those died when she was only two, and one lived to the ripe old age of 17. I remember each one of them, and I remember the special place they each held in my life.
Julie, however, is different than any other dog I've had. I can't say that I love her more, because I loved each pup deeply. I can say that I'm not sure that I've ever had a dog who loves me the way Julie does. Julie liked me well enough when Brad brought her home, but she adored Brad. And I do mean adored. She slept with him every night, followed him everywhere, and moped when he had to go to work or school. When Brad left for college and couldn't take Julie with him, she was one sad dog.
Then, one morning Julie woke up and decided that I was her new best friend. She began following me the way she followed Brad. She would wait until I was asleep, and then she would crawl into my bed and sleep with her head across my feet. When I had to go to work, she would tuck her tail between her legs and mope. I found myself looking forward to evening play time with Julie, throwing the Frisbee for her spectacular catches until she decided it was time to stop. Taking walks along the paved path across the street. And yes, talking to her as if she were human. (She does, after all, tilt her head and listen attentively!)
At this particular time in my life when my sons have moved out, and my daughter works two jobs and is rarely home, I spend a fair amount of time alone. I believe that God is the Creator of all things, and that He created animals, and dogs in particular, to bring a certain type of joy into our lives at times when we need that joy the most.
So, when I step out of the shower each morning and Julie is lying on the rug next to the tub, or when I come home from work and she greets me at the door, or when she plants a wet doggie kiss on my arm, or when I am sick and she sits patiently by my side until I am well, I thank God for my faithful furry companion.
As I finish typing, Julie is stretched out on the other end of the couch. Well, sort of, anyway. Her head is snuggled across my feet, and she's snoring. I guess it must be time to turn in for the night.
I've had dogs in my life for as long as I can remember, beginning with a little white dog named Frisky when I was nine years old. Then there was Rocky, Brandy, Cocoa, Choo-Choo, Ali and Cinnamon. One of those died when she was only two, and one lived to the ripe old age of 17. I remember each one of them, and I remember the special place they each held in my life.
Julie, however, is different than any other dog I've had. I can't say that I love her more, because I loved each pup deeply. I can say that I'm not sure that I've ever had a dog who loves me the way Julie does. Julie liked me well enough when Brad brought her home, but she adored Brad. And I do mean adored. She slept with him every night, followed him everywhere, and moped when he had to go to work or school. When Brad left for college and couldn't take Julie with him, she was one sad dog.
Then, one morning Julie woke up and decided that I was her new best friend. She began following me the way she followed Brad. She would wait until I was asleep, and then she would crawl into my bed and sleep with her head across my feet. When I had to go to work, she would tuck her tail between her legs and mope. I found myself looking forward to evening play time with Julie, throwing the Frisbee for her spectacular catches until she decided it was time to stop. Taking walks along the paved path across the street. And yes, talking to her as if she were human. (She does, after all, tilt her head and listen attentively!)
At this particular time in my life when my sons have moved out, and my daughter works two jobs and is rarely home, I spend a fair amount of time alone. I believe that God is the Creator of all things, and that He created animals, and dogs in particular, to bring a certain type of joy into our lives at times when we need that joy the most.
So, when I step out of the shower each morning and Julie is lying on the rug next to the tub, or when I come home from work and she greets me at the door, or when she plants a wet doggie kiss on my arm, or when I am sick and she sits patiently by my side until I am well, I thank God for my faithful furry companion.
As I finish typing, Julie is stretched out on the other end of the couch. Well, sort of, anyway. Her head is snuggled across my feet, and she's snoring. I guess it must be time to turn in for the night.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Too Busy
Sometimes I get too busy. I say yes when I should say no, and I try to do too much. There, I've said it. I am not Superwoman, even though I often try to convince myself that I am.
My "real" job is senior editor for an advertising agency, where I often log in more than the standard 40 hours per week. Due to the nature of the business (i.e., creative people have a hard time letting go of a project they are working on and push the deadline to the last possible second), I often find myself bringing work home in the evening. I'm also a frequent speaker at various women's events around the country, and so I travel a fair amount. My favorite "hobby" is photography, and over the last year or so, I've found myself shooting senior portraits and several weddings. And, I'm always writing ... articles, blogs, my next book, etc.
Most of the time, I do a good job of keeping all the balls in the air. But then there are the times when I get sick, and I can't do anything except whine and moan and beg my children to take care of me. Or, as is the case this summer, I have to take care of the yard. All by myself, with no sons living at home any longer.
I spent most of yesterday and a good part of this afternoon working in the yard. Mowing, weeding, cleaning out the fence line, trimming trees and spreading mulch. Tonight, even my feet hurt. But my yard looks beautiful. My flowers on the deck are an explosion of color, and my tomato plants have blooms.
Being busy is good as long as I keep my focus where it should be, as long as I don't allow being busy to overshadow what is most important in my life ... loving God and loving people.
So now, this blog is finished, and I'm off to read my Bible and go to bed. After I take a couple of ibuprofen ...
My "real" job is senior editor for an advertising agency, where I often log in more than the standard 40 hours per week. Due to the nature of the business (i.e., creative people have a hard time letting go of a project they are working on and push the deadline to the last possible second), I often find myself bringing work home in the evening. I'm also a frequent speaker at various women's events around the country, and so I travel a fair amount. My favorite "hobby" is photography, and over the last year or so, I've found myself shooting senior portraits and several weddings. And, I'm always writing ... articles, blogs, my next book, etc.
Most of the time, I do a good job of keeping all the balls in the air. But then there are the times when I get sick, and I can't do anything except whine and moan and beg my children to take care of me. Or, as is the case this summer, I have to take care of the yard. All by myself, with no sons living at home any longer.
I spent most of yesterday and a good part of this afternoon working in the yard. Mowing, weeding, cleaning out the fence line, trimming trees and spreading mulch. Tonight, even my feet hurt. But my yard looks beautiful. My flowers on the deck are an explosion of color, and my tomato plants have blooms.
Being busy is good as long as I keep my focus where it should be, as long as I don't allow being busy to overshadow what is most important in my life ... loving God and loving people.
So now, this blog is finished, and I'm off to read my Bible and go to bed. After I take a couple of ibuprofen ...
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