Observing Ash Wednesday at Home

“There will be two virtual Ash Wednesday services, but no imposition of ashes.”

My heart sank as I read the message in my inbox. How can we have an Ash Wednesday service without the imposition of ashes? 

This feels like the hardest loss of them all. 

We did Maundy Thursday at home. We read the story of the Last Supper and drew pictures of Jesus. We washed feet and shared bread and wine. We prayed the Lord’s Prayer and asked for Your will to be done.

Then we did Good Friday at home. We turned off the lights and stripped our mantel and remembered the darkness and sadness of the day.

We celebrated Holy Saturday—planting flowers, cleaning the house, and decorating the mantel for the celebration to come.

And we cried our way through Easter Sunday. We woke up in the dark to drive to the beach to wash the sun rise above the ocean. We talked about the beauty and stillness of that morning. The majesty before us. The hope in the midst of our darkness.

We dressed up for church and sat around our coffee table and heard the story of that first Easter morn. We had scavenger hunts in our backyard and pulled out all our best ideas to make Easter a day full of happy memories.

Summer came and went.

We had a small Thanksgiving celebration and gave thanks for the good in the midst of the bad.

We had Christmas Eve snack dinner and sang Christmas carols around candles and made a Holy Communion table of our own. 

And now here we are … Ash Wednesday less than two weeks away … and we’re finding ourselves having to figure out how to do this on our own too.

It is painful for me to think about observing Ash Wednesday at home, away from my beloved Church Community. Ash Wednesday, more than any other worship service, is centered on confession and public absolution. In a normal year, we’d worship in the Sanctuary, singing together, hearing scripture together, praying together—all things that we’ve been able to do together virtually thanks to Zoom. But in a normal year, we would also walk to the altar together to share Holy Communion and remember the promise that Christ has gone before us. Remember his command to remember Him as we eat and drink this bread and wine. Later in the service, we would walk up to that very same altar and receive ashes on our forehead and be reminded that we are dust … and to dust we shall return. 

In a year like this one, that reminder that we will all return to dust is so important. In a year where we’ve seen so many challenges, so much strife, so much isolation and so much death, it’s almost a breath of fresh air to remember that we all, eventually, return to dust. But not being able to do that in the presence of other believers is heart-wrenching.

So I did what we’ve all done so many times over the last eleven months. I found my resolve and dug into my faith and put my creative juices to work. I put together a Family Worship to guide us in observing Ash Wednesday at home. It’s designed to be short and intimate and is adaptable for your family, whether you are 0 or 99+.

Maybe your church community has found a creative and safe way to hold a traditional Ash Wednesday service. Or maybe your church will have a quiet, pensive virtual service that will include a time of confession and absolution, but no imposition of ashes. Or maybe you just don’t have the energy for either of those.

Wherever you are, I feel you, friend. I’m holding you close as we embark on this weird Lenten journey together. I gift you the Ash Wednesday Family Service we will use in our home. Wherever you are, I hope this Family Service is a blessing to you. 

remember you are dust …. and to dust you shall return

Cruisin' on a Saturday Night

It’s a crisp Saturday night in the Fall of ‘97. The windows are down, the wind whips through my hair, and the music blares. The bass is way up, the treble is way low, the music plays almost as loud as the speakers can go, and we sing even louder.

We cruise through the streets of our smallish town. There’s a loop we follow every week. We drive down to the light at the Wendy’s drive-thru and take a left into the Roses parking lot. We stop for a bit, leave our cars on—with the music blaring of course—as we get out to see our friends. We talk about the things that we, at the tender ages of sixteen and seventeen, think are so important.

Who is Joe taking to Military Ball?

Why wasn’t Suzy in class yesterday? Did you know Matt dumped her AT THE FOOTBALL game?!

Dude! Charlie got a new truck! Have you seen him out here tonight? It’s suh-weeeet!

He wraps his arms around me. “Hey there Smalfry. It’s good to see you out here tonight. Been wonderin’ if you’d show up!” I blush and turn around to give him a hug. It feels so natural to show such affection out here, free from the judgment that so often shows up in the hallways at school. 

We comment on the cars as we watch them drive by. It was on these weekend nights that I first fell in love with cars. I never drove. My friends had much better cars than I had, and it was much more fun to be the passenger. The gold 1988 Nissan Maxima was my favorite. It had dark tinted windows that made us feel so cool inside, like we were rockstars driving through a crowd of adoring fans. And then there was the teal Chevrolet Beretta - not a light teal color that feels so muted, but a bold, bright teal that makes you stop in your tracks the minute you see it and makes you want to paint your teenage room that very color, right this very instant. To this day, I can’t help but stop in my tracks when I see a car painted a bold, bright color or with dark tinted windows. 

After a few minutes of chatter, we say our goodbyes and get back in the car to continue our cruising parade. We take a right out of the parking lot, and head back up to the town square. When we get to the light by the big baptist church, we turn right and drive down the quiet residential road beside Chick-Fil-A. It’s too bad Chick-Fil-A is closed at this time of night, because we could all really go for a big tub of waffle fries. We turn left to go around the median and find ourselves at the light where we started. We sit in the turn lane and crank the music just a bit louder. The bass in this one is just SOOO good!

///

Those town streets were home to me in those teenage years. We had no parties to attend, we had nowhere to go, and for some reason, those streets felt like they were standing there just waiting for us to come hang out. It wasn’t until later that I noticed the “No Loitering” signs. I suppose some businesses hung them up to keep kids like us out. But when you’re a teen, you feel invincible—the world is your oyster—and you are more daring than ever before.

If I close my eyes and breathe deeply, I can conjure those streets—that cruising route—in my mind as if it happened only yesterday. I can hear the playlist loud and clear. I still know every single word to all the songs. I am so different now, some 25 years later, but deep down, so much of that young girl still remains.

///

Some might say I grew up “on the wrong side of the tracks.” My family never had a lot of money, and I often felt jealous of my schoolmates that seemed to have more than I did. Many of the people I went to high school with attended Junior League and Cotillion—things I had never heard of. I grew up wishing I could be like them, with their perfect two-parent families, their huge, beautiful houses, and their lives that seemed like everything came so easy to them.

I went to daycare, elementary, and middle schools that were filled with predominately low-income students—many of whom were black. Many of my best memories from childhood include these black friends. My Mom and Aunt taught me that people were people, no matter their skin color. I believed it. I embraced it. I thought that I lived it. But I was wrong.

Now as I think back on those days where I thought black and white were living in harmony, I realize just how blind I was to the realities that my black friends were facing. I never once saw myself as having a privileged childhood, but now I see that although it was full of challenges, I never had to experience the things my black friends did. As a white teenager, I never even thought to ask them how their lives were different than mine.

When I listen to these songs now, they take me right back to those small town streets. I am back in that high school band room full of amazing musicians, many of whom were black. I am back in the stands of the high school football field, where the people I had the most fun with were of a different skin color than my own. And yet as many memories as I have with the black folks around me, I spent the weekends cruisin’ on the streets, with my white friends. Blaring music created by black musicians, singing words that portrayed a reality I could remain blind to, simply because I was white.

///

Now 25 years later, these songs feel no less relevant today than they were then. And while listening to this old playlist brings me so much joy and nostalgia for my high school days, it also completely tears me apart. It feels so unfair that the lyrics to Gangsta’s Paradise are still the reality for so many. I am ashamed that I even dared to think a song like Tha Crossroads was a song that I could identify with. It makes me so angry I could spit that a mass of white people were so arrogant to think they can storm the capital building with confederate flags waving high and not be immediately thrown into a police wagon and taken to jail. 

I moved away from that town long ago, but the memories remain. I’m connected to many of those black childhood friends through social media, and I’m challenged by their posts, almost every single day. I know that my kids now live the enchanted, privileged childhood that I once longed for; and it breaks my heart into pieces that their children don’t. They can’t. Not as long as our society remains blind to the inherent racism that exists.

I know if I were to drive down those streets once again, I would feel the same impulse to crank my bass, turn down the treble, and completely rock it out. But I also know that this time I’d be more aware of what’s going on around me.

Earlier this week, I wept as I heard the words of Rev. Silvester Beaman at the Inaugural Benediction,

We will seek out sin and seek forgiveness, thus grasping reconciliation.

As I look back on those teenage years of blindness, I confess my sin and seek forgiveness. I vow to move forward with eyes wide open. With a heart wide open. With ears wide open. And with arms ready to do the work of true reconciliation.

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For the full Cruisin’ experience and a true ride down Memory Lane, I present to you the playlist that inspired this post. I promise it will help you get through the weekend. Just promise me you’ll get up and do the dances when the time comes, m’kay?

This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in this series "Playlist".

through the eyes of mary

I can’t help but think about how hard it was to be Mary during Jesus’ last days. Here was her baby boy, all grown up, being ridiculed and accused. Bruised, beaten, and hung on a cross. What was she thinking as she watched it happen?

Maybe she was remembering when the angel appeared to tell her she was with child. Remembering the fights she had with her family and with Joseph when she revealed the news. Thinking about all they had been through to have this child – this Son of God – the Messiah.

Or perhaps she was thinking about that special night when Jesus was born. The first time she held him in her arms. That long journey she and Joseph took while she was nine months pregnant. Searching for a safe place to give birth.

Maybe she was replaying the many miracles she had seen him perform. Thinking of all the lives he had changed during his three years of ministry.

She had to watch from afar as her oldest child – her beloved – breathed his last breath. She would never embrace him again. Never again see him laugh. She couldn’t even hold his hand as he died.

How did she survive it? Was she angry at God? Confused? Or did she know all along how it would end? How did she stop herself from trying to get him off the cross?

I imagine it was a little bit like this:

Mary’s faith has always astounded me. Her complete willingness to be God’s servant. To do whatever God asks of her. She willingly carried his child even though it was a major inconvenience to both her and Joseph. She, like any mother, loved Jesus more than she ever imagined. She watched him grow up. She helped him grow up.

And now … to watch him die on a cross …

She did it all … willingly … because she believed. She believed God was up to something amazing. She trusted in his promises.

My prayer these next few days is this: As I remember Jesus’ last days in preparation for the Easter celebration, may I be like Mary. May I be God’s willing servant – no matter how inconvenienced I might be. And may I always remember God’s promise to be faithful, no matter how dire the circumstances might seem.

This post was originally published at Bibledude.net.

On Being a Team

This post was originally written in 2013, but got lost in the transition to a new web host. As I discovered it today I felt a need to revive it. Although some of our circumstances have changed - I no longer have to rock and nurse babies to sleep and he no longer has to stuff diapers - but he still stays up way past the time I’ve gone to bed doing the chores that still need to be done. He still loves me more every day. And I continue to be grateful for the gift of him in my life.

I don’t know how I snagged you. After all the brokenness in my life…I don’t know how in the world I found you. My teammate. My soul mate. My partner.

You are the yin to my yang.

The peanut butter to my jelly.

The jam to my toast.

The chocolate to my milk.

You get the picture.

We are good on our own, each one of us. But together … well, together we are unstoppable.

Many nights, when I rock and nurse the little one to sleep, you are hard at work. Cleaning up dinner, stuffing diapers, vacuuming, sometimes you are even scrubbing the shower. So many men would do their own thing – maybe sit down to watch a ballgame, or perhaps spend their time playing video games. But not you – you clean. Without being asked. Willingly. Lovingly. With every sweep of the broom, you are giving me a gift.

It doesn’t go unnoticed. I’m so thankful for every little thing you do.

But tonight, as I rock the little one to sleep, you take a break from all that work and meet with your men’s small group. I can’t help but think about what a good role model you are for men everywhere. You are the kind of husband every woman wants. The kind of daddy every child needs. A man of insurmountable faith, not ashamed to be the kind of man God has created you to be.

You love me. So tenderly. So completely. More than I ever could have hoped for.

We are so different than we were just a few years ago. So much more confident in who we are. Together. And apart.

I can remember calling you late in the night because I was terrified of being alone. I remember your promise – that you loved me – and that even though you weren’t beside me, I wasn’t alone. I remember shedding so many tears – mostly out of fear. Afraid that I would screw up again. Afraid I would push you away. Afraid I wasn’t good enough. That I was destined to be alone forever.

And I remember your firm response – I love you dammit. I’m not going anywhere.

I remember you telling me I was a princess through God’s royalty. I remember thinking you were crazy when you said that. So much of me wanted to hate that imagery – but I had never been called a princess before. Princesses are beautiful – and loved. I had never believed I was either. Until then. And as much as I hated the imagery of God as King – it was the exact image I needed at the moment. It helped me begin to understand just how loved I am.

I look back on those early days and I can hardly believe you fell in love with me. I was so weak. So broken. Such a mess. But you didn’t see any of that. You saw my beauty. My strength. My passion.

You helped me find my confidence. You continue to push me to find my voice – and to be the voice for others. You are … my other half. My better half.

I’m so thankful to be on the same team with you. So blessed to share life with you.

the land of no birthdays

Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you all ….
Happy birthday to you!

As we sang these familiar words, tears formed in the woman’s eyes.

But it’s not my birthday, she said.

I gently responded to her, That’s okay. Today we’re celebrating all of your birthdays!

She couldn’t remember the last time anyone wished her a happy birthday. She had forgotten what birthday cake tasted like. When we asked what her favorite birthday memory was, she couldn’t remember a good birthday. Ever. In her 46 years of life.

We ate cupcakes and played games. Shared stories and laughs. And as I walked away from the incredible celebration, I couldn’t help but realize how important our birthdays are.

Birthdays have always been big celebrations in my family. I don’t really know the reasons why my mom made such a big deal of birthdays, but I haven’t stopped the tradition as I’ve gotten older. When I hear someone has a birthday coming up, I’m the first one to ask what their plans are. What kind of cake are they going to have? Are they going to have a party? A special dinner? A celebration of any kind?

Affectionately known as The Birthday Girl, I know how to plan a birthday celebration. And no birthday is really a birthday without a cake. If you’re ever in my neck of the woods for your birthday and have no plans, just give me a call and we’ll celebrate your big day in style!

So what’s so important about a birthday anyway?

When we celebrate a person’s birthday, we celebrate the day they came into the world. For just a single day each year, the world really is all about me. It’s all about the incredible gift of life God has given us. On that day, we remember just how special we are. We remember how much people love us. How much God loves us.

Can you imagine not knowing what birthday cake tastes like?

Can you imagine not having one day where you feel like you are the most important person in the world?

I can’t.

Our simple act of recognizing the importance of birthdays changed a single woman’s life. She felt special. She felt loved. Maybe, for the first time in her life, she saw herself as a beloved child of God. As someone that mattered.

So remember your birthday. Remember the birthdays of those around you. And every once in a while, celebrate a random person’s birthday. Just because you can. You never know what kind of an impact it will make.

This post was originally published at Bibledude.net.

Top Ten Adult Reads of 2018

I’m not sure how I did it, but I read 109 books last year. 5 of those were picture books that snuck into the list and 24 of them were chapter books that I read with my 6-year-old, which means that I read 80 books for me and me alone. When I look back on them, it feels like a year of self-indulgence and luxury. There’s nothing like a good stack of books to make you feel like you’re traveling the world, meeting some of the most amazing (and maybe also some of the worst) people you’ve ever met.

Out of my 80 “adult reads” last year, there were ten that rose to the top as my favorites - and one extra that I added list because - well - it’s Jane Austen and she can’t be left out. Here are my favorites from 2018 - in no particular order.

The Snow Child - This was the last book I read in 2018, and I’m SO glad I snuck it in in the last week. I had thought about waiting until there was snow on the ground, but it came so highly recommended that I just couldn’t wait to open it. Once I started reading, I couldn’t put it down. This book pulled at my heart in so many directions, and it’s a book I will read over and over again. It’s a magical fairy tale that will break your heart and full you with so much joy all at the same time. If you need a good book this winter, this should be at the top of your list.

Where the Crawdads Sing - I highly recommend the Audio version of this one. It was simply incredible. It made me think a lot about my own family roots, it made me miss the south, and the ending left me stunned. It’s a fantastic story of survival and of beating the odds. I was crushed when it was over.

I’ll Be Your Blue Sky - This was one of my favorite summer reads in 2018. It’s light-hearted and beautifully written. I had not ever read Loved Walked in or Belong to Me, so the characters were unknown to me. I love the way the story lines of two different women are interwoven to tell an intricate and beautiful story of finding oneself. I loved it so much that I read the first book written (Loved Walked In) and was sorely disappointed. I’ll Be Your Blue Sky stands alone - and far above - the other two books with the same characters.

The Light We Lost - This book captivated me from the first page. I fell in love with the characters, got angry at the characters, and really felt every emotion they were going through. It's a beautiful portrayal of love, temptation, despair, and how life may not always be as black and white as we might think. Although I disagreed with the actions of the main character, Lucy, I always FELT why she did what she did. Relationships are so complicated - love is so complicated - and this book really lifts that up in a beautifully written way. 

The Broken Girls - I’m not usually a fan of thrillers, but this one was exceptional. It was creepy without being too over the top. This is another one that’s worth an Audible credit - I really enjoyed hearing the story told to me as opposed to reading the words on the page. It was suspenseful, entertaining, and a story well told.

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine - I bought this book on a whim back in June when I was heading to a wedding and thought I might have a few extra hours of quiet. I tried to start it that very same day, but found it boring and whiney. I’ve told you before how I’m not afraid to put down mediocre books - and how, if the reviews are really really good, I’m also not afraid to pick them up and try again. I’m so glad I picked this one back up in the Fall, because I found it to be brilliant. It’s a book of character development, so read it when you’re ready to really dig into the characters - not when you’re wanting something full of action. It made me feel all the emotions, which is the true sign of a great book. I feel like Eleanor is a good friend, and because of that I’m pretty sure I’ll read this one over and over again.

An American Marriage - And now we’ve come to the books that had me coming undone at the seams. This one was so hard for me on an emotional level. It brings up contemporary issues of race, which always makes me angry at the world we live in and also a tiny bit uncomfortable (as it should). It’s not simply about race though - it also brings up topics of love and fidelity - and is just gut-wrenching on so many levels. But you guys … it’s SO SO good. If you didn’t read it in 2018, make 2019 the year you do.

Brown Girl Dreaming - I’ve had this on my TBR pile since it came out in 2016, and finally got to it this year. It’s a memoir written as poetry and is quite possibly one of the best pieces of creative writing I’ve read in a long time. It’s a quick read, and it’s one I’ll add to our school repertoire in a few years.

Dreamland Burning - Another book that made me think a lot about race relations, my southern roots, and just how far away we are as a society from where we should be. This one has a historical component to it, which I really enjoyed.

All We Ever Wanted - This is Emily Giffin’s best novel, by far. I’ve always been a Giffin fan, but her books usually fall in my beach bag and get devoured in a matter of hours, without much real deep thought. This book is so different. It’s incredibly thought-provoking, and brings up so many issues that I wanted to dig into with a group of friends.

Bonus - Pride & Prejudice - I am so ashamed that in 38 years of living, I had never read any Jane Austen. At the start of last year, I promised myself I’d get through at least two classics and this was one I chose. It was a slower read for me, because of the old English that it’s written in, but I really enjoyed it. I found myself really identifying with the characters and dreaming of what life may have been like. When I finished it, I watched the 1995 BBC production of it (hello Colin Firth!) and it made me appreciate the book even more. I’ve decided 2019 will be the year I read the rest of her stuff - because - well, why not?!

So there you have it. My favorite “adult reads” of 2018. What were your favorite books last year? What’s currently on your nightstand?

the first meeting

We walked in and looked around. I don’t think they are here yet, he said.

I turned to the hostess. There will be four of us please.

As she brought us to a table for four, we sat nervously. Watching through the large windows as cars drove up, we silently wondered … would they show up?

He grabbed my hand. That’s him.

I gave it a squeeze. Here we go. It will be okay.

They walked in. We stood up. We shook hands, made introductions, and took our seats. Conversation began as though we were catching up with old friends. Much easier than we anticipated, we talked about our jobs, a recent family wedding, hobbies, and so much more.

An hour and a half later, we exchanged phone numbers and hugs and vowed to keep in touch.

As we got in the car he looked at me and said, That was way easier than I expected. Come to think of it, I can’t even remember what happened so many years ago.

Father and son. They had been estranged for five years or so. No phone calls, no emails, no birthday cards or Christmas gifts. No family celebrations or holidays. No invitation to our wedding day. Nothing but silence. A few ill feelings. Lots of wondering about why and what might have been.

But lately, things had been popping up all over the place. Gentle reminders that he was out there somewhere. Small stirring in our hearts to take one of the biggest risks of our lives – reaching out in an attempt to bring healing.

It wasn’t easy. And it didn’t happen over night. But over the course of time, God gave us the strength to make the first move.

Some four months later, healing is still taking place. What once was silence is now filled with frequent emails, phone calls, and family meals shared around the table.

What had been a huge hole in our hearts is now filled with an incredible amount of love and thankfulness. Love for a family we were once afraid of. Thankful for forgiveness and second chances. Grateful for the opportunity to leave the past behind and move forward into a new stage of our relationships. A better stage. A healthier stage.

Not long after that first meeting, he looked at me and said, I’m scared. What if something bad happens?

I replied, Something bad will happen. That’s life. But we’ll pull through it together. And the good will outweigh the bad.

So every day, we embrace the risk. We take the chance. We continue to reach out. Looking forward to family holidays, new births, shared experiences, we place our trust in the One that brings healing. We do our best to love the way He has loved us.

And every day, we feel a little more whole.

This post was originally published at Bibledude.net. Photo by Juri Gianfrancesco on Unsplash.

i walked away

I said my final goodbyes and began to walk out the door. As I walked through the double glass doors, tears rolled down my face. I wanted to collapse on the cement and never leave. But I pushed forward, vowing to never look back. To move on to the new life I was beginning and to put the past behind me.

As I started the engine and drove away, the tears came harder. It was much harder than I ever imagined it could be. It may have been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. You see, this place I was leaving … the place I was walking away away from … it had become my God place.

It was the place where my community lived. It was more than work. It was a way of life. It was a calling. And even though I was confident that in walking away I was answering a new call, I still felt a pain that was beyond imaginable. I guess freedom isn’t always easy.

That day was a dark one. A day full of anger and hurt. Tears and prayers. Unanswered questions.

What will my future look like? Will I be able to achieve my dreams? What if I just made a huge mistake?

But I did my best to trust and believe that Facebook status I had posted just months earlier:

Sometimes God calls us to the unknown … and doesn’t promise it will be easy, but does promise to be faithful.

I woke the next morning with tear-stained cheeks, vowing once again that I wouldn’t look back. The words to Matt Maher’s Hold Us Together were the first out of my mouth that morning when my sweet husband asked, “How are you?”

This is the first day of the rest of your life.
This is the first day of the rest of your life.
‘Cause even in the dark, you can still see the light.
It’s gonna be alright. It’s gonna be alright.

This became my theme song. The darkness got a little bit brighter. And I began to realize that I can’t leave the past behind me. The past is a part of me. It has made me who I am. I can’t walk away and never look back.

The old will never disappear. The relationships will still exist. They may look different, but they will be there. And it will be alright. God will remain faithful.

I will find a new God place. I will find a community of believers that I can thrive in. A community that will accept me for who I am and encourage me to celebrate God’s calling in my life.

But I will never forget that place or the people in that place. The place that made me who I am. The place that helped me believe in myself. The people that cheered me on and pushed me forward.

And I won’t forget how I felt the day I walked away.

This post was originally published at Bibledude.net. Photo by Mike Wilson on Unsplash.

How to Read More Books

It's no secret that I love books. At any given time, I have at least 3 books stacked on my bedside table - sometimes more - all in progress. When I was younger, my mom would regularly find me in my bed late at night with a book. In grade school, all of my teachers said I had read every book on the classroom shelf.

Remember the scene in The NeverEnding Story where Bastion is hiding under the blanket reading a magical book in the attic, and then he pulls out his sandwich and coke for lunch without stopping? That was my childhood dream ... to read in a secret place all the way through lunch and dinner. Like Bastion, I was often pulled into the story I was reading - in a way that made the characters feel real, and made me feel alive. People often ask me, 

Just how do you find time to read so much?!

Believe it or not, there have been times in my life when I go months without reading a book - but at the end of the year, I always end up reading at least 2 books or month as an average. Some months I fly through books - and there are other months that I end up savoring one or two books (mostly the nonfiction ones). There's just something magical about a well-written story, and it's often a book that gets me out of a mind rut. So today, I give you my top ten hints on how to read more books.

Read in front of your kids.

I'm not talking about reading books to them - although that's super important too - I'm talking about taking time yourself to read your stuff while they are around. It's important for them that they see you enjoying books. And it's important for your own mental sanity! For me, this means taking 20-30 minutes first thing in the morning to read a few chapters. Usually the girls will curl up next to me with their own books. Some days we talk about what we’ve been reading. Although Eden can’t read words, she will often tell me the story she’s been reading - either from having had it memorized or from looking at pictures. 

Bring a book with you.

Wherever you go. You never know when you might end up waiting in a line far longer than you would like. Or when you'll end up at a farm with a play space that you had no idea about (True story ... totally happened to me. We were there for 90 minutes ... and I had forgotten my book!) I've been known to read a book standing in line at the grocery store. This is called using your fringe moments (there's a book on that too!) Once you become aware of the opportunities in your day where you can read, you'll realize you actually do have quite a bit of wasted space in your day!

Turn off the tube.

I can't remember the last time I actually watched TV. We have one in the basement - but it hardly ever gets used. We cancelled our cable when we first got married over eight years ago in an attempt to save money, and we haven't missed it since. In fact, it's quite the opposite - the noise of the TV bothers me terribly. I'd much rather have music playing - or live in silence - than hear the constant sound of chatter. And don't even get me started on commercials. Give me a book over TV any day.

Disconnect.

Turn off your computer. Delete social media from your phone and download the free Kindle app. Sign up for the daily deals to get really cheap e-books. Or use Overdrive to download library books for free. You'd be amazed how much more reading you do when you don't have the ability to mindlessly scroll through Instagram and Facebook.

Set a goal.

Start small. Maybe it's one book a month. Setting a reading goal for yourself can help encourage you along the way. When you reach the goal, give yourself a pat on the back - or a big scoop of ice cream - as a reward. You'll have a new story in your head, you'll be a little bit smarter, and you'll feel amazing about yourself!

Listen to Audiobooks.

I recently joined Audible on a whim (because I got two free audiobooks with a 30-day trial), and it's been amazing for helping me - and the girls - enjoy books in a different way. I love that I can "read" while doing laundry, brushing my teeth, cooking dinner, cleaning up, driving from place to place. I have also noticed my laundry gets put away and my house cleaned way faster when I'm listening to a book - mostly because I look around to find mindless tasks to do so that I can listen to just one more chapter. If you don't want a monthly commitment to Audible, you can also listen to audiobooks from your library using Overdrive or Libby, or you can snag daily deals on Audible. (You can get a free 30 day Audible trial with 2 free credits. There's no penalty if you cancel after snagging your two free books - and they are yours to keep forever and ever. Why not try it out?!)

Don't be afraid to leave a book unfinished. 

I'm all for challenging yourself to read something outside of your comfort zone. It makes us better readers. It makes us smarter. It helps us see the world differently. But the reality is, if I’m not loving a book, I read some reviews. If they are overwhelmingly good, I try to push through. If they are mediocre, I give up. There have been several books that I've put down as "mediocre" to only later pick up again and completely adore by the time I've finished it. Sometimes I find my head isn't in the right space to finish it - so I simply save it for later. Sometimes I find it to be nothing like I expected - so if the reviews are overwhelmingly good, I try to challenge myself to push through to the end. But in the end, if I'm not feeling it - I close it and not look back. I give myself the freedom to pick it up again another day - or to just leave it on the unread shelf. Don't get stuck in a book that you just don't like. There are too many good books out there to read something that is mediocre.

Pay attention to your brain.

I try to vary what I’m reading. If I read a hard book, I follow up with an easy beach read. I want to enjoy reading - and too much of the same thing can become boring after a while. I like to think of my reading list as a feast, with several different courses, that I can move between fluidly. Sometimes our life is such that we just need to escape with an easy-to-read children's literature award winner. Sometimes we want a little spice between the pages. Sometimes we want to dig deep into an old beloved classic. Listen to your brain - and give it a variety of options.

Keep track of what you read.

You can do this in an old fashioned pen and paper journal or you can do it online. I ADORE Goodreads. There's something so exhilarating about finishing a book and marking it as "Read" on my Goodreads list. It not only makes me feel good about finishing a book, but it also helps me make sure I'm reading a variety of things. I also love that I can see what my friends are reading - especially in times when I'm feeling in a reading rut and don't know what to read next. 

Go to the Library.

Libraries are precious commodities. With no money in your pocket - or your bank account - you can go into a library, register for a library card, and leave with a stack of books. If you get home and decide you don't like one, it's okay ... you simply return it the next week and you haven't wasted any money! I like to place holds on books using the online catalog. The librarians pull the books for me and I can walk right in and check them out from the desk. It's like online shopping for books ... but totally free! If you aren't sure what to read, walk around the library stacks and check out the end caps to see what librarians have put out. I have often chosen a book simply by its cover - or its name. Librarians also LOVE to talk about books ... so don't be afraid to ask them what they recommend. Our library will even give you a custom book list based on your answering a few questions about what you like and are interested in. Or - if you're feeling really bold - ask any random person you see in the library what their favorite book is. You'll get a book recommendation AND you might make a friend in the process!

So there you have it. My top ten hints for reading more books. Now go get your summer reading game on! And tell me .... what will you read next?

Photo by Christin Hume on Unsplash.

The Clothesline

This post was originally published in April 2015 when we lived in the cutest little bungalow in Atlanta. Since we left that house, I've longed for a new home that had the same feeling of home. This weekend, we hung up our clothesline in our new home on the North Shore of Massachusetts. It's funny ... that simple act of hanging a clothesline ... it feels symbolic in some ways. No longer are we wandering along a road, searching for a place to hang our hats. We are finally settled. And it feels so so good. Although our house isn't 100 years old, and there's no road that runs directly beside our new clothesline, so much of this post rings as true today as it was 3 years ago. And yes ... the picture is new :-).

I stand outside basking in the sunshine while I hang clothes on the line. Get a pin, hang it up, get a pin, hang it up. There’s something so calming about doing the laundry this way.

It’s such a sensory experience. I feel the dampness of the clothes as I pull them from the basket and put them on the line. I smell the fragrance of detergent and fabric softener. I hear cars driving, people walking, and the occasional airplane overhead. I see the many different colors in the clothes we wear daily.

And it’s no different in the taking them down. The dampness is gone – replaced with warm dryness, and sometimes that stiffness that only the sun can give. The smell has shifted to the clean smell of sunshine. We hear the siren of a fire engine; the neighbors’ dogs barking as people walk by. The sun is so warm you can almost taste it – making you long for a very cold glass of water.

As I do this work – the work of hanging up our laundry – the little ones play around me. Throwing sand out of the sandbox, picking leaves and flowers off the plants that have been patiently waiting  for the arrival of spring, inspecting the world in only the way tinies can.

People walking by sometimes stop to chat, commenting on the clothesline or the flowers we just put in. Sometimes it’s a familiar face, other times it’s a complete stranger just finding their way to their car parked down the street.

I can’t help but think back to when the house was built, over 100 years ago. Some mother did just as I now do, grab a pin, hang it up, grab a pin, hang it up. Talking to the neighbors as they walk by. Watching her little ones run around in this very same yard – I can’t help but wonder what it looked like back then.

In just a few short weeks, we have made doing laundry this way a part of our life. I find myself checking the weather at night to see if there will be sunshine to dry my clothes the next day. Hanging clothes up on the line even on cloudy days, in hopes that even a little bit of fresh air will do a tiny bit of good. I get disappointed if a day goes by and that little clothesline of mine is empty.

It’s funny how something so simple – and seemingly old fashioned – can bring such a smile to our faces. This business of hanging up clothes forces me to slow down and enjoy my surroundings. We’re all so much happier when we are outside; it just makes sense to do the daily business of life outside. The things of nature – the trees, the wind, the birds, the squirrels, the neighborhood owls – they all remind us that we are just one tiny part of the vast world that we live in.

God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good.