Motherhood's Hardest Lesson. . . Learning to Decrease

 Did your child just go off to college?  I share what God is teaching me about decreasing in my motherhood role in my article for Today's Christian Woman available here.

My Attitude toward my Husband is Important!

Like all wives, I have the power to build up or destroy my husband.  I share what I learned about having “A Hammer in My Hands” in my @Today’s Christian Woman article published here.

Short Stories are Fun Reading!

The runners-up of the Create Romance Short Story Content were featured in the September/October edition of Family Fiction Magazine.  "The Day MacBeth Escaped" was one of the runner-up entries.  Read the interview about the story's origin here on page 18.

open hands

Open Hands

Eager, anxious, untested hands,

these were mine that day in May.

Hardly believing you were finally here,

giddy with excitement, 

trembling lest harm come to you,

Determined to protect you at any cost. 

I held you in my hands and closed them tight.

Fretful, bewildered, weary hands,

these were mine when we took you home.

Desperate to calm your crying, 

Longing for a little sleep.

Unsure of myself; worried about you,

I walked the floor and held you in my hands.

Happy, peaceful, confidant hands,

these were mine as you grew and learned.

Delighting in your progress,

Cheering each little success.

Joyful in the little girl you were,

I took your tiny hand and held it in my own.

Helping, caring, nurturing hands.

these were mine as the years went by.

Encouraging you to do your best,

Reaching out to keep you steady,

Giving you a hug or two,

I watched you mature and still held you close to me.

Releasing, surrendering, relinquishing hands,

these are mine in this new season.

Seeing God call you to prepare,

Trusting the work He's begun in you,

Knowing that He holds you always near,

I open my hands and let you step into His.

- VQ

8-19-13

of rooms and family

I'm sitting at my laptop in the spare room (oh, that sounds "Narnia-ish") which is a combination office, bedroom, practice room and storage space containing items my daughter is collecting for her first year at college. It's a nice room, although there is no bed as of yet. A headboard leans against the wall, waiting. There is a wonderful dresser, holding candles, linens and other decorating items. My daughters' violins and son's guitar are also here as well as a couple music stands. There is a white rocking chair in the corner, a reminder of the baby days of my kids, nights when I'd rock them and sing softly over their fuzzy heads. You see, this room really is of the multi-purpose sort; it is used for a variety of activities, depending on the family's needs at a given time. It bugs me when I focus on it, this room lacking a real purpose yet used so much. I dream of walking past the door and seeing a bed made up with the quilt I've got ready. I imagine putting guests in here to stay instead of in my daughters' room.

But I guess I've come full-circle, in a way. My family had such a room when I was a teenager. It served many purposes through the years and is still one of the most-used in my parents' house. A lot of happy times happened there, and I can't imagine my childhood home without it.

I'd love to have a house like the magazines show, with fresh flowers and couches just begging you to sit. The cookies in the jar are always soft and the counters never get family-clutter. Yes, it would do my heart good to be able to keep a house like that. It always feel like some sort of failure to be normal, you know, to have a "lived-in" house. I'm not talking about filth or stacks of egg cartons in the corner; I just mean the usual this and that which accumulates in a family's day.

But, one-purpose rooms and un-lived-in rooms are not happening in my life. Instead, I have imperfect spaces, but they're spaces that reflect a family who lives close and lives busy. So, I guess you could call this room I'm sitting in a family room in some ways. In fact, all the rooms in our house are christened with the energy and joys and trials of family living. And I think this house loves it; after all, we are the ones who give it life.