My Lovely Dwelling Place

Forgiveness             So I’ve been thinking about forgiveness lately.  There seems to be plenty of opportunity to practice it in a large family.  In a family, there’s always someone hurting our feelings or some other body part, being a jerk, bringing us down, criticizing our efforts, not meeting expectations, or just being insensitive.  Sometimes it’s just real hard to forgive family members, not to mention everybody else!             When I was a little girl and committed some transgression that required an apology, my mother would not forgive me.  She would never forget an offense and would take every opportunity to remind me of my real or imagined wrong-doing.  I wasn’t the only one she wouldn’t forgive.  Her list was long:  my dad, his mother, her mother, old friends, co-workers, neighbors, Nazis…I could understand Nazis.  But with all those folks to not forgive, she was one lonely lady…and bitter.             Forgiveness is hard work.  There’s confronting the proble

Downhill Only My husband likes to go on family bike rides.  I guess I like it too.  The only problem is that I like trails that are in the shade, going downhill with the wind at my back, and no busy streets to cross.  For some reason these trails are hard to find.  I just don’t enjoy becoming red in the face and short of breath, but I hear it’s good for me.             When we started our bike riding adventures a few years ago, I hadn’t ridden a bike in about eleven years.  When my youngest heard this, he was appalled.  After seeing me ride, he stated rather emphatically, “Well mom, you’re doing pretty well – I wouldn’t have believed it unless I seen it!”             Another one of my sons is very methodical and orderly.  He likes routine with nary a variation or shifting shadow.  When he rides his bike, he peddles at a steady, unwavering pace regardless of terrain.  I truly don’t know how he accomplishes this.  Everybody knows one should not be behind mom because she’s sl

Advice for Sons and Daughters God has blessed me with nine sons, one daughter, one daughter-in-love, a granddaughter, and brand new grandson.  I often think of things I’d like to say to them, things I want them to remember, things I wish I had known at their ages.  Now Lord willing, I should have another thirty years or so with God’s grace and mercy to share these things.  However, my dad died at the age I am now, so one never knows.  Consequently, I feel an urgency to communicate – I’m just not sure how.  I imagine they would laugh if I shook their shoulders and exclaimed, “Listen, you have to remember this!  It’s so important!!”  They would wonder what I was so excited about – why I was getting worked up.  They might say, “Gee mom, you worry too much!” What twenty-something, thirty-something or young-something person likes to listen anyway?  I know for a fact over-forty-something persons don’t listen… Ah well, perhaps humanity is purposely deaf traveling a dangerous road