What's the Plott?

I’m marveling at the miracle of Holy Week! Every year, I am stopped in my tracks to consider the events that led to His resurrection.  This week I am revisiting an old memory! One that consumed my thoughts about the suffering endured for my gain!  The memory was not some big, grand, sweeping event.... but it forever changed my view of the crown He wore for me.  A few years ago, I hobbled around for three days, convinced that I had somehow stepped on something terrible. I was sure there was a poisonous tip of some evil weed buried deep in the ball of my foot—so deep it couldn’t be seen, couldn’t be felt, couldn’t be found. I couldn’t walk right. I couldn’t ignore it. And if I’m being honest… I may have been just a little dramatic about it.  I kept trying to push through—telling myself it was nothing, just part of farm life. But at the same time, I was completely fixated on it. Every step reminded me it was there.  Every task felt harder.  Every respons...

I didn’t plan to write about this today. But sometimes the timing of things feels… intentional in a way I can’t quite explain. Right now, I’m in one of the stranger seasons I’ve had in a long time. The calendar is full. The days are long. There’s always somewhere to be, something to do, someone who needs something. All this is life... but  at the same time… things are happening in the background that seem to cast a shadow on it all... specifically things that I don’t understand. Situations are unfolding. Feelings are being hurt. Hearts are being tested. Faithfulness and integrity are being questioned. It feels like an unexpected battle — one I didn’t see coming and honestly wouldn’t have chosen. And yet… somewhere in the middle of all of that, I have  peace. Not because everything makes sense. Not because I have answers. But because I remember. I remember a season not that long ago when I was asking God for something I didn’t even fully believe possible. In October of 2019, my...

A good portion of my life right now happens from the driver’s seat. There are days when it feels like I’m running a small mobile office and a taxi service. I take phone calls, think through to-do lists, mentally plan dinner, remember errands I need to run later, and try to squeeze productivity out of every red light and parking lot. Some days the taxi-cab part of motherhood feels like a wasted day. Back and forth. Drop off. Pick up. Parking lot phone scrolling and writing lists. Repeat. But then one of them hops in the car, and suddenly the whole day changes. One of them gets off the bus with a story they can’t wait to tell or runs out of practice hot and sweaty with a compliment from the coach. Sometimes they climb in and bring extra kids with them or immediately say, “Hey Mom, can we go do this?”—something completely unplanned that turns the afternoon in a different direction. In those moments I am reminded of something really important. This is living. My life is built around theirs...

Lately I feel like my life as a mom is on repeat. You know the kind of repeat I’m talking about. The chores that have been done for years still need instructions. The kids are all in school and know they have homework… and yet I’m still saying, “Did you get your homework done?” multiple times a week. The animals need to be fed every morning and every evening… and someone still needs a reminder. The kitchen is closed for the night… and someone still wants a snack. The room is a mess… and I’m walking through the same steps of how to pick it up for the third day in a row. Hang the wet towels. Don’t throw them on the floor. Don’t put them wet in the laundry basket. Eat at the table, not in the bedroom. Don’t overflow the trash can — if it’s full, take it out and change the bag. I could go on and on. Some days it feels like no matter how many times I’ve said something… I’m still saying the same thing again. And again. And again. The other day I was listening to the audio Bible in the car an...

I want to tell you about something that felt really big this week. You know those days as a parent where everything just… works? Not perfectly. Not unrealistically. But enough that you sit back at the end of the day and think, that was a good day. My youngest had one of those days this week. He was named Student of the Week at school — for the second time this year. It was the first thing he told me when I picked him up from the bus stop. I could tell he felt good. When he got home, he immediately started working on something I’d been asking him to do for several days. No reminders. No back-and-forth. He just did it. And he did it well. Then that evening, I took him to his first official basketball practice of the season. Same coach. Same gym. Same team he’s been playing with for years. They were running drills, and at one point, the coach stopped and said he was the only one in the room doing the drill correctly. If you know my kid, you know that moment meant something. He came home, ...