What's the Plott?

Summer has a funny way of making you feel like you have more time than you actually do. The mornings don’t have to start before sunrise. The evenings stretch longer. There’s no school-night panic, no bookbags to check, no bedtime routine breathing down everyone’s neck. A Tuesday can start to feel a lot like a Sunday. Calmer. Unplanned. A little less urgent. But slower does not always mean less busy. And it definitely does not always mean less full. This week, I have plenty that needs to be done. Camp is coming. Lists are forming. Things need to be packed, bought, washed, printed, planned, confirmed, and remembered. And yet, today there we were… sitting on the dock. At 6:00. Then 7:00. Then 8:00. The river water was low, slow, and peaceful. The teenager was content to nap on the dock without friends and the music choice was singing summer memories from years past. The evening was easy. The Memorial Day company has gone, but plenty of no-plan-necessary leftovers remain... no one is rushi...

After last week’s post, I was honestly overwhelmed. Not by the numbers — although I’ll admit, seeing almost six thousand people view the social media post and more than six hundred read the blog was humbling — but by the people. The messages. The prayers. The check-ins. The comments. It reminded me of something I already knew, but needed to feel again: We are not meant to do this alone. I am grateful for the community that poured over me and happy to report that I am doing well and recovering as expected!  In all this, I keep hearing the same message over and over lately. " The body of Christ." "The Bigger Church." "The Kingdom Focus." The Community of Believers." These are phrases I’ve heard my whole life, and if we’re not careful, they can start to sound like one of those churchy phrases we all nod at without really sitting with them. But this week, it didn’t feel like just a casual expression; i t felt real.  Paul says it plainly: “Now you are the ...

Several years ago, I was diagnosed with a benign brain tumor called a meningioma. Usually, these are harmless and removed. Mine, however, decided to settle down in a place that surgeons don’t really want to visit. So the plan became simple: Wait and see. Every year, I would go for another MRI. Every year, the report would come back with phrases like: “Minimal growth.” “Insignificant change.” After enough years of hearing those words, it became strangely normal and routine. Even comforting. Just another thing tucked into the background of life. Until this year. This year, the growth itself was still considered minimal… but the direction of growth was not. It has started creeping toward the central blood vessel running through the spinal cord. And suddenly “wait and see” became: “It’s time to do something.” What’s interesting is the treatment itself. You can’t really shrink it. You can’t safely remove it. And because of where it’s located, any symptoms or damage it causes would become p...

Motherhood has challenged my patience more than anything else in my life. And somehow at the very same time… it has fulfilled every deep need I have ever had for love, purpose, adventure, and connection. I love being a mom. Not just in the big milestone moments, but all  the ordinary ones too. I love raising boys who play in the dirt, love animals, and come inside smelling like sunshine, gasoline, and outside air. I love that our life swings somewhere between farming and grabbing McDonald’s fries on the way home from practice. I love movie nights, sports events, and sleeping until we wake up on our own during summer break and random Saturdays.  I love it when bedtime gets pushed back because nobody is ready for the day to end yet. And maybe this is an unpopular opinion… but I’m never really ready for my kids to leave. I’m not the mom counting down until summer camp. I’m not the mom who can’t wait for school to start back after breaks, and I am not the mom who ge...