The Titus 2:4 Project

No, I'm not talking about myself.  The blonde isn't real and let's face it, sweet hasn't been an adjective that's been used to describe me  very often.  I could be talking about my children....but actually, I'm talking about my coffee.  I'm sort of a coffee -snob.  Not because I demand the finest beans, hand - picked on some far away mountain top, or because I use some fancy French contraption to press the beans and steam the milk (because I don't! )  but I am uber picky about how it tastes....some may say I'm a lightweight.  I like it sweet and creamy.   A little coffee with my cream and sugar.  Just like momma used to make it for me when I was twelve years old.  Drinking coffee at a public place is always cause for another fun round of "How Many Cream and Sugar Packets Will it Take?"  Today is was 5 creamers and 8 sugar packets.  it wasn't great, but I was in desperate need of caffeine. Right now I'm wishing I had another c

I enjoy talking to people I've never met before.  I start with a warm, genuine smile and a sincere compliment, and just let the conversation take a natural flow, like rain water rushing through the countryside.  On a trip to Key West, Florida several years ago, I exercised this strategy.  We were crowded into a shuttle bus that would take us from the plane to the tiny little airport.  Somehow over the course of the very short ride, I engaged another female passenger and her sister in a conversation about our pedicures.  She had hot pink toe nails with little white flowers...and from there it went to our purses, our dogs, our trip, our names, and by the time we stepped off the shuttle we were Facebook friends.  (And six years later we still are!) Another perfect example, I was at a large park with my in-laws.  Our men were out riding bikes and we girls were responsible for cooking out.  No one remembered aluminum foil...but there was another woman at the picnic site next to us w

What a busy weekend!  I hope you all had a good one as well.  I was blessed to be able to help move my daughter and her boyfriend back 'home' (an hour's drive from my house) from Nashville, TN.  Last Thursday I was dreading the weekend.  I have a strong dislike for the entire process of moving a household, be it mine or anyone else's.  Add to it a 12 hour round-trip drive and I might pull out the H-word.  (Hate is a word I try not to use lightly.)  I started having anticipatory back pain to such a degree that I had to take medication to get through the day.  Not a good sign... My youngest son, who is a nice, strong, healthy 15-year old, went with me.  Not because he has an overt fondness of assisting his siblings in their time of need, but more because he was able to miss a day of school.  And yes, he does love his sister...and thinks her boyfriend is pretty awesome as well.  I was happy to have some company on the drive down, even if he takes control of the radio

Remember Paul Harvey?  I always enjoyed listening to his radio commentary that ended with the now famous line..."and now you know, the rest of the story." Well, I recently found myself wandering around one of my favorite book stores and while perusing the 'Religious' section, a book caught my eye.  "The Story" by Max Lucado and Randy Frazee.  It's scripture, arranged chronologically.  Some verses condensed, some rearranged, some omitted, for the sake of the story-line.  So it reads like a novel.  I wouldn't recommend reading it only .  As in, you need to read the Bible first and foremost.  My dad always told me not to read so many books about THE BOOK...just read THE BOOK.  But this is a  pretty cool accessory.  Tonight as I was reading, enjoying the familiar story of Joseph, who had been made ruler of all of Egypt, revealing himself to the brothers who had hated him and sold him off to be a slave, one particular line really jumped out at me.  I

Tempers flaring, we stood toe-to-toe.   "Well, what did you expect? " He roared. "Not this! " Tears pooled in my eyes. I stormed away and locked myself in our room.   I don't even remember what we were fighting about that day, only how I felt when my expectations had not been met.  I felt like he just didn't care.  I was disappointed.    In all my years of marriage,  I have come to understand one thing.  Every single frustration, no matter what it's about or the degree of emotional turmoil, always boils down to one thing: unmet expectations.   I expected one thing to happen, and it didn't...or I didn't expect something to happen, and it did.  Plain and simple.    I expected a card for Mother's Day.  He forgot.  I expected him to let me sleep late on Saturday.  He woke me up before the sunrise. I expected him to put his dirty dishes in the sink before he went to bed.  He left them on the coffee table.   - or -  

I have a confession to make.  I enjoy the 'shock value' of doing certain things... like hair style and color...the joke at church used to be "What color will Lynn's hair be this week?"  That was until I became a 'professional' who's photo was plastered all over ads and business cards...then I got worried that people would look at the photo, look at me, back at the photo and say, "You look nothing like your picture."  (Leaving me to wonder if that was a good thing or a bad thing.) So I have settled for platinum blonde (because it allows the most grace for my ever-graying locks) and for now an asymmetrical bob cut.  But I'm chomping at the bit to do something new... I also love the shock value of a meaningful tattoo.  The little numbers behind my ear that have a special meaning to me and my husband...the romantic verse from Song of Solomon on my spine....the verse from Isaiah 53:5 on my wrists...I love the puzzled look when people realize

God created humans, male and female...and we compliment and complete each other in the most magical ways.  But God knew that Eve would need someone to talk to when Adam was being a jerk, so He gave her girlfriends.  **disclaimer - this is not exactly scriptural...** Little girls need other little girls to play dolls with...teenaged girls need other teenaged girls, because quite frankly, no one else 'gets' them.  (Not even their adult counterparts.)  And women need women friends.  Females can relate to each other in a way that males cannot. C heck out this hysterical video to see what I'm talking about.    When men try to act like US, they look ridiculous.  I can't imagine coming home to find my husband and his BFF floating around in the pool together, floaties tethered so that they don't miss a word of their important conversation.  I can't imagine my husband in the fitting room at Macy's with his buddies, asking "do these jeans make my butt look bi

I might be addicted.  I can't help it...it's just there....so whenever I find myself bored or waiting for someone, with smart phone in hand, I tap the little red "P" and find myself soaring joyously through the minds of the creatively gifted, the fashion connoisseurs, the DIY champions, the yoga virtuosos and the decorator extraordinaires.  None of which I am.  I'm only creative with my pen and some lined paper.  Lately, I've noticed that I am pinning a lot of stuff to my "Healthy Me" board...stuff like the 30-day Squat Challenge, 100 Reason to Work Out Today, 4 Steps to a Better Butt, and 12 Yoga Exercises to Get Your Thighs and Hips in Shape.  So, why I'm struggling to button my pants is a complete mystery to me.   I even pinned a "Weight Watchers Taco Soup" recipe last night...but it didn't help either. Does that strike you as funny?  It should.  We all know that pinning exercises to a Pinterest board isn't helping my thi

Faith and trust go hand in hand.  Would you agree?  In my mind they are closer than cousins...perhaps more like Siamese twins.  It's difficult for me to imagine having one without the other...but I'm not here to debate the fact, or to convince you one way or another.  It's just my humble opinion.  Take it or leave it.  But have you ever thought about the amount of faith and trust it takes to get through a day??  Walk through a typical day with me:  I have faith that my alarm clock will go off.  Which means 1) I trust that the electrician properly wired my home to provide power to charge my phone, and 2) I trust that the folks in that factory in some distant land put all the pieces together properly when my phone and charger were assembled.  3) I trust the person who wrote the program that causes my phone to keep up with time accurately... Getting in the car and driving my child to school requires monumental faith!  I have to 1) trust that my car won't break down, an

I had the privilege of having lunch with a dear friend and mentor the other day.  She's recently retired from her career as a National Sales Director with a prestigious cosmetic company...you may have heard of it: Mary Kay Cosmetics.  To some of you, that may not mean much...but to any of you who have ever attended a corporate Mary Kay function, you know what a big 'o deal it is. My friend has been on lavish trips around the word; she's been slathered in diamonds and furs; she's driven free, pink Cadillacs for more than 30 years...and she, of course looks amazing.  She calls me her 'young' friend, but she somehow looks closer and closer to my age every time I see her.    In the world of Mary Kay, it's all about the SUIT.  A National Sales Director has 'the suit' .  At an event, you can be brand new and know virtually nothing about anything - but when a NSD walks in, you know it.  So naturally, I count myself privileged that I get to bend her ear

I've heard hundreds, maybe thousands of good sermons over the course of my life, but every now and then I hear one that just makes so much sense, that it sticks.  Ya know what I mean?  About 14 years ago,  sitting in a comfy chair at Northview Christian Church, Pastor Steve Poe delivered one of those kinds of sermons.   He talked about a dad who bought some French fries for his young son.  Those yummy, crisp, hot fries that everyone loves... The son was enjoying those fries when the dad asked for one.  Seems simple, but I know my kids would furrow their brow at me and give me that 'ugh!' sound if I dared to reach for a fry from their tray.  Never mind who paid for them.   My memory is a little fuzzy on the rest of the story, but the point was that when our Father gives us something,  it should be our pleasure to give some back to Him, but sadly, so often I tend to act just like my own selfish children and furrow my brow and offer up a hearty UGH!  I'm ashamed t

There's no doubt that fall is in the air.  It's more than just the golden leaves floating in my pool.  It's the delayed sunrise and the eager sunset.  It's the angle of the sun at midday.  It's the pending harvest and the slow-moving vehicles along country roads. It's the pages on my calendar that beg me to put away my white slacks. Oh, for sure...summer is a fading memory.  And if you have seen any of the ominous warnings about what's coming our way this winter, then you are probably like me, wondering if now would be a good time to pack up and head south...far south!  According to the Farmer's Almanac we should expect our first blast of cold air this month!  The trusted book predicts a winter that will be exceptionally cold.  Bitter cold.  I don't even like the sound of that.  There aren't enough cute sweaters in the world to make me excited about 'bitter cold'.  We heat our home with a wood boiler furnace.  As the price of gas re