Wildflower Writes

Photo by Isabella and Louisa Fischer on Unsplash I like to breathe. The intake of oxygen, the expelling of carbon dioxide… it keeps the blood moving and all the organs functioning. Then this nasty microscopic virus (of the common cold variety) interferes with the breathing process. Armed with Kleenex, antihistamines, decongestants, cough drops, vitamins, lip balm, anti-bacterial wipes, tea, and soup… I settled in for a long night (or two). Before the cold hit, I took breathing for granted. I didn’t even think about it. It just happened. It was easy, even automatic. So many things in life are like that. You don’t realize how you took your health for granted until you get a diagnosis. You don’t realize how much you enjoy someone’s company until they move away. You don’t realize how it feels to be trusted until you fall out of someone’s good graces. I think that’s why gratitude is so powerful. It provides insurance against those life disappointments. If you live in gratitude, you...

Photo by  Isaac Quesada  on  Unsplash Today I attended a feedback session for a friend who is developing her website and online presence. It was really a great gathering of women from a variety of backgrounds, life stages, and media expertise. The exchange was invigorating and inspiring. One of the most fascinating aspects of the gathering was hostess’s obliviousness to the fact that her homemade box lunches, coffee station, and sparkling drinks on ice demonstrated a gift for hospitality that left the rest of us amazed if not a bit envious. To her, it was just another fun idea to share with friends. It was only recently that I heard that one way to determine your unique gifts is to pay attention when something comes easy for you that doesn’t come easy for everyone. We sometimes take our abilities and passions for granted. Not everyone sees things the way you do. Not everyone can fix a car, create a website, balance a spreadsheet, or harmonize at will. God gave each of...

Christmas eve... gifts are wrapped (mostly). Treats have been made and sampled. THE gift is put together and ready to play with... I'm ready for Christmas As corny as it sounds, I think the secret of finding joy in the holidays is to see things through a child's eyes. It's not all about the gifts... not really. It's about the excitement, the lights, the visiting with family... even if they can't comprehend everything that Jesus means to the world, they can celebrate the birth of a special baby. My kids have floored me with their generosity this year. Of course we encourage the attribute, but let's face it..generally speaking, kids tend to be selfish- "what's in it for me?" My kids not only purchased gifts for immediate family members, but are making gifts for others, and giving things that they no longer use. And it was all their idea! As Toby Mac says in his song, Christmas this Year , "it's like I'm ten years old again and ever...

Have I already said I hate shopping? I hate crowds, noise, waiting in line... When shopping for gifts, I'm never confident that I'm choosing something that would be useful or appreciated. I get lost in large stores and can't remember where the departments are. I don't like driving, traffic, parking, or dodging cars in the lot. So on a day spent going from bank to store to store to store to store... With a know-it-all teenager and rambunctious child in tow... Where did I find joy? In my devotions this morning, I read Paul's letter to the Philippians. At the time he writes it, he is in prison. Talk about chaos! He writes: "In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy ( Philippians 1:4 )." Now, I wasn't exactly praying for my family  members as I shopped, but I tried to imagine their wants and needs, and how they would react when opening the gifts I purchased. Maybe it wasn't prison per se, but it was not my favorite place to be. ...

Dedicated to Karen Johnston The doctor said, “no kids” Your polio forbids You were ready to fight I was born, in the rite Of motherhood Under your guidance Words became sentence They said I was bright You taught me to write I was three Every question I asked I was then tasked To tell what I think “Look it up” with a wink An answer You gave me freedom To explore wisdom Friendships and the world Hopes slowly uncurled And life Your strength displayed You weren’t afraid To speak your mind To do what was kind And right You provided meals To talk of ordeals A place to unwind Home ever enshrined In my heart You gave the right to choose Present for all debuts Cheering at each game To everything you came My biggest fan As an adult I received The best gift achieved My mom as my friend To listen and commend And advise I admire your courage In living out wordage Literature and theatre Loving life as actor Of your story As I bid adieu Know I love you And truly thank you For all that you d...

I don’t remember making a big deal out of Mother’s Day as I child. I think we all went out to eat after church. At least that would make sense to me since Mom always cooked, but I can’t imagine either of my parents waiting for an hour for a meal at a crowded restaurant. I’m sure there were a string of homemade cards with the accompanying homemade verse. There might have been breakfast in bed a time or two, although Mom always seemed to be up before us. I imagine there may have been some offerings of wadded violets or dandelions as well. In my husband’s family, all the ladies wear orchids to church on Mother’s Day. I felt a little silly the first time, sporting one as a very unmotherly college student, but I felt a little special, too. On Mother’s Day, my home church gives out carnations to all the women. I thought it was merely an inexpensive choice, but it turns out carnations are traditional representations of Mother’s Day. It was the favorite flower of Ann Marie Jarvis, whose passin...

What does the ideal mom look like? Is it June Cleaver, wearing pearls while she vacuums and having dinner ready when dad walks in the door? Is it Lucy Ricardo, devoted mother still looking for her next big break on stage or screen, or at least a good adventure? Is it Roseanne Connor, keeping her kids in line with sharp remarks and always speaking her mind? Is it Abby O’Neil, the vegan, homeschooling, all-natural mom from Dharma & Greg who walks around in overalls and burns incense? Is it Reba Hart, a single working mom dealing with her teenage daughter’s pregnancy and her ex-husband’s new wife? Every mom has to decide for herself what motherhood is going to look like. For most people, no one is going to be harder on mom than she is on herself. As times change, society’s expectations of the role of mother change and evolve with them. I don’t know if there is any other time in history that has so many potential expectations of motherhood. Moms are supposed to be totally devoted t...

“I promise I’ll get you something on your day!” the receptionist called out after me as I left work for the day. It was her way of thanking me for the candy I’d given her for Administrative Professionals Day. I laughed. “There’s no such thing!” Nurses, Aides, Social Workers… they all have special appreciation days and weeks. I wished I could have a day to be treated special. I drove to the YMCA where I’d agree to meet my friend and workout partner who I’ll call Michele. We did the treadmill for awhile and then headed to the weight room. I was just finishing up on my tenth machine when she asked me, “How much more do you want to do?” That was strange. Michele wasn’t the type of person to be in a hurry. In fact, she tends to be over-accommodating “About 15 minutes,” I guessed. After we finished working our hip abductors and adductors, we headed to the locker room. I had come straight from work, so I had to pick up my bag. “You’ll want to change your clothes, trust me.” Sh...

“…and let the music we sing be the song of our hearts.” I don’t remember the exact words our choir director used, but in a brief moment of prayer before our Easter cantata, I realized why I sing in the choir. I’ve always loved to sing. Most kids do, I think. In my early years I was drawn to music, although it wasn’t a large part of my life. I didn’t study it or read a lot about it, although I did learn about Beethoven from Schroeder of the Peanuts comic. I learned song lyrics, although I rarely knew who sang what or what album it came from. Imagine my mom’s surprise when I came home from a sleep-over at nine years old singing, “Like a Virgin.” On the other hand, nothing seems to resonate with me more emotionally and spiritually than a song. There’s something about music that penetrates all defenses and makes its way to the very soul of a person. So I’ve always sang in the choir. I always wanted to be a part of making beautiful music, to take apart the notes, rhythms, and dynamics and ...

“Life is a gift, and it offers us the privilege, opportunity, and responsibility to give something back by becoming more.” - Tony Robbins When someone as beautiful, talented, and blessed as Natasha Richards passes on, we all pause. Our hearts break for young sons, a devoted husband, and other family and friends. We wonder what plans they had for after their ski trip, for next year, for the future. We wonder about the last mundane conversation with her husband was about before she fell. It makes me wonder… if I died tomorrow… what would people remember about me? Have I made good with the gift of life given to me? Have I used the talents and knowledge developed in my lifetime for the best use? Have I, as Henry David Thoreau said, “...live[d] deep and suck[ed] out all the marrow of life… live[d] so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life… cut a broad swath and shave[d] close… drive[n] life into a corner, and reduce[d] it to its lowest terms...”? Life is so precio...

I’ve always heard it said, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” I always took it as a truism, just like, “one man’s junk is another man’s treasure.” But tonight, I was challenged to think differently. Still in study of “The Truth Project,” God is the originator of creativity. He bestowed various gifts upon humankind to use for His glory. He gave us a desire to use these gifts- to design, to create, to express truths, to create order out of chaos. That is what work is supposed to be, an expression of who God created you to be. So if someone creates something, does that make it beautiful? Is it truly a decision of the beholder whether or not something is beautiful? No. I now believe beauty is a quality in and of itself, like truth, goodness, righteousness, or love. The human body is beautiful, but pornography is ugly. Language is beautiful, but hate is ugly. Music is beautiful, but profanity is ugly. The beauty we are able to see in other people represents God’s ha...