The Fish Tank

I drove down my favorite road in town past my favorite ranch and the trees were in full bloom. It was as if the buds opened over night. They were beautiful and a much needed sight. We had a mild winter here in North Texas. Most days were sunny patio weather until February hit. While January usually feels like it goes on and on forever, it came and went quickly. February, however, was a beating. The sun forbear to shine seeming to have packed his bags and bid his farewell to the northern section of our mighty state. The temperatures quickly dropped from flip-flop days to hats, gloves, boots, jackets, and scarves. We were stuck indoors because North Texans cannot pull it together enough to drive in ice and snow. We all enjoyed sleepy family days and too much hot cocoa for a moment but were ready to get back outside. And then it happened. All of a sudden, as if overnight, the trees began to bloom, the grass shifted from yellow to green, and the birds started chirping again. Hallelujah,

"Ugh." That's the expression I keep muttering over and over these past two weeks. It's just been one of those seasons. Everything seems a little more difficult and the days a little more frustrating. The emails are hard to swallow, the mail in the mailbox frustrating, and I am butting heads with the husband. Overall, I feel blah, worn down, exhausted. Right before this blah season, a few people I haven't talked to in a while have asked how everything was going in my life. Thankfully, I was able to tell them that all was hunky-dory. Life was stable and moving right along. When I answered them, I thought about how my life sounded a little boring. Nothing major was going on in either a negative or positive direction. Life just was. And then the ugh moments began. I kind of wish I was still stuck in the boring. All I really want to do is go back to bed after I get the boys off to school. I am exhausted from little feet in my back all night long from a pint-sized n

I was at one of my favorite shops when I felt like someone was watching me. I looked over and sure enough, a woman was looking at me. I was checking out when I caught her gaze. I started thinking about what the woman might be looking at. Was my shirt tucked in weird? Did I have food on my face? I had been running around all day and had just stuffed lunch in my face on the way to the store. How did I treat the woman who rung up my purchase? As I thought about these questions, I realized, we are being watched. When I was in high school, one of our theater assignments was to go to a public place, people watch, and come back to class performing a person you had watched. I loved this assignment. I love to sit and people watch. I wear sunglasses all the time and think I am incognito looking at others through my tinted lenses. It's fun. We learn a lot about others when they don't know we are paying attention. My experiences have led me to realize that someone is always watching. The

Am I serving others because I care about them or because I care what others think about me? This is a heavy question I have wrestled with lately. Why am I serving? Do I want glorification? Am I insecure and serving you to fulfill my need to feel important, needed, wanted? If you give me an opportunity, I will love the heck out of you. You will probably want to find an excuse to get away from my crazy loving self. However, even though I may love others intensely, am I serving them for them or for my gain? "Search me, O God, and know my heart; Try me and know my anxious thoughts; And see if there be any hurtful way in me, And lead me in the everlasting way." Psalm 139:23-24 I was sitting in the chair listening to my hair dresser talk as she was trying to tame my mane. We always land on spiritual topics and today was no different. She was talking about being offered a leadership position at her church. She decided to turn the position down because she felt she wanted it for

Everything was going smooth Thanksgiving Day. The tables were set. The turkey was cooking. Family and friends were on their way. The house began to bustle with people and scents of fall flavors. I started the gravy while everything was wrapping up for our feast. As I am working on the gravy, I notice that it is just not coming together like it usually does. The color is almost black and it is chunky yet oily. I keep working only making it worse. I do believe this gravy was the most disgusting thing I have seen in all my years as a rookie culinary artist. I had never had gravy issues but on this day, that magical sauce was atrocious and definitely not edible. Of course my ego led me to believe that I didn't need any store bought back-up gravy. So, there we sat on that beautiful Thanksgiving day with a feast that begged for gravy and there was none. Even though the gravy was an astronomical failure, the day was still wonderful. Although not perfect, the day was blessed. My friends

I was at Trader Joe's with all three boys. We were checking out and it was taking quite a bit of time. The boys were being really good but definitely being boys. Translation: they could not stand still if their lives depended on it. I did my mama duty getting down to their level reminding them of appropriate store behavior. The woman who was checking us out made a comment to me about how patient I was with them. I don't know if that was her telling me my boys are crazy and I should have lost my marbles by now or if it was just a nice compliment. Whatever the motive, it felt good. Of course, the moment we got home, the boys became wild banshees jumping on the couch, fighting with one another, and doing their best impression of WWF. In that moment, my patience quickly evaporated and I may have lost those marbles. What I have learned as a mama is that grace is a necessity. You cannot parent if you cannot give yourself some grace. I took the older two older boys roller skating to

I was making my bed with the news playing in the background. I usually turn the morning news on for about ten minutes to get the latest of world happenings and then shut it off because I can't handle the noise for too long, but for some reason, on this day, I left the TV on. The newscaster was interviewing a man who participated in the march in Selma fifty years ago. What caught my attention was not the horror that occurred on that day, but rather, the grace this man showed to those who tortured and beat him; an innocent man. The reporter asked this man if he was bitter or angry at the people who unjustly punished him and so many others on that fateful day. His answer was absolute: he held no grudge, no animosity, no anger, nothing. He said he was always taught to love. He continued by telling the reporter that they were all taught to show love and grace even in the face of such horrible injustice. He would fight for what he knew was right in love. Wow. I could not believe my ears.

I was scrolling through my Instagram feed looking at old pictures. I love going down memory lane. I think I was smiling the entire time. From sledding in the snow to the crazy creative ways my boys sleep and sit, the pictures brought me so much joy. If you examined my Facebook or Instagram feed, you would see a pretty little life. I live in a nice home, have a wonderful husband, three healthy boys that are doing well, and an insane but funny dog. We are doing good, right? Well, we are doing good in pictures and status updates, or so it seems. I will admit that life right now is pretty grand. My marriage is in a good place, we are doing well financially, I get to see my sister and dad and their families on a regular basis, I get to stay home and take care of the kids, the boys are happy and healthy, etc, etc. However, life is not always that pretty. Funny how we don't like to show that stuff. I remember when I miscarried for the second time and felt so very alone. I became determi