Splash the Puddles

I witnessed recently, a small child wrongly accused by another child's parent of breaking in line at a public event. I'd seen the entire situation play out and knew the child was innocent. I watched them try to defend their self only to have the adult cut them off with a harsh, "oh yes, you did..." I spoke up once and quickly let it go, deciding it wasn't worth the confrontation that was about to play out. I winked at the child, gave a quick side hug and said "it's ok. Let it go." I could tell it was hard for the child to just take it, to be wrongly accused of such an offense. It's a big deal to cut in line at that age. A bigger deal to be accused of doing such a thing when you actually didn't. It's difficult when we have to take the heat for things we didn't actually do, isn't it? Maybe you've been there. Perhaps you've been the victim of an ugly rumor, maybe your spoken words were received in a way other than how you...

Today was an ugly day. And by that, I mean today was an unbelievably beautiful day and I brought a lot of ugly into it. There were interruptions to my "happy" all day long, and instead of seizing the opportunity to find the good and look for God, I let my feathers get a little ruffled. Okay, a lot ruffled. I found much wrong with many things, people, circumstances...whatever today. I griped a lot. Everyone and everything was at fault. Everyone and everything except me, of course. Only I knew better. It was me. I brought the ugly. The late afternoon and evening hours saw a peppy spike in my poorly clad mood, and all ended on a prettier note. I only wish I hadn't let unplanned circumstances and minor interruptions to my agenda rob me of so much joy. I knew better. It was me. I brought the ugly. I'm wrapping up this evening, basking in the redemption of undeserved grace, the comfort of unmerited favor. Thankful that even when I bring the ugly, God is still beautifully g...

Earlier this week,  I aired all my dirty laundry for all to see.  Actually,the laundry was clean, and technically I didn’t air it.  I folded and put it on hangers.  Then, I took a picture and posted it on Instagram.  My caption alluded to how far behind I was and said something along the lines of “this is real life” with a few hashtags saying #justbereal and #laundryfordays. Shortly after posting, something profound happened.  I began to get text messages and private messages thanking me for posting something that helped someone else feel normal, like they weren’t alone. One even said they’d felt so defeated that they couldn’t stay on top, when it seemed everyone else had it all together.  There were  6 or so brave posters, who openly admitted on my post that they too were in the same situation.  Some even confided with all my Insta followers, where their pile o’ laundry resides. Privately sent words like “it made me feel so good to know t...