Jenny Lind


I’m sitting in the doctor’s office. An all too familiar sight reminiscent of the of the hardest summer of my life. We spent about eight weeks of summer with anywhere between 2-4 doctor’s appointments. Pediatrician. Neurology. Two Behaviorists. Therapist. Psychiatrist. All of this and still very few answers and solutions. This is parenting. We’re on a journey, and like any good journey, things just take time. My tidal waves of emotion consist of frustration trying to get my kids the help they need, and the strange internal conflict that my greatest joy in life is also my greatest challenge. Motherhood is the scariest ‘hood I’ve ever experienced. Well meaning people, and complete strangers, make suggestions. But like diets, there’s nothing I haven’t tried. Every kid is different, and my kids have their own special set of baggage. I have monogrammed it with our family name and hitched a U-HAUL to…


I set my purse down on the kitchen counter along with some groceries for Pops. A cherry trivet sat on the stove next to its last working burner. The oven portion of the appliance no longer worked either. You see, the oven was an original fixture of the house, built in the 1950’s- much like its residents. This was Chris’s childhood home. She loved living in it as an adult, and having grandkids over to swim in the pool. My eyes drifted over to the old red kettle perched on that back burner. Pops made Mom a cup of tea every night. Constant Comment was her favorite. Without fail, I would tease her mercilessly about it. A woman known for her quick, witty repartee whose favorite tea was CONSTANT COMMENT?! What could be more perfect?! It was low hanging comedic fruit, but I’m not too proud. The kettle sat. Red…


I’ve tried writing something several times – and yet I find myself at a loss for words. Not normal for me. I wrote this song for David for our 15th anniversary. We’d been through infertility, losing a house, and me being…me, and came out better on the other side. The song was my promise that we’d be ok without children if that’s what God had in mind. Less than 3 months later, we got our boys, Wyatt and Levi. The song has new meaning to me every year. Here it is:


As a parent, it drives me insane when my kids don’t obey. In those moments, it gives me insight into how God the Father must feel when we don’t listen and obey. I have a really great job – and part of it is that I get to lead worship in chapel at a Christian school for elementary and middle school students. Not long ago, our principal set up what she called a listening chapel. She had an awesome Pastor lead it. During different sounds (like waves crashing on a shore or a campfire crackling, for example) and in silence, students were asked to write down what the Lord was speaking to their hearts. I heard from students of all ages in the days following this chapel, independent of each other, that they heard the word “go”. It affected me so deeply how sensitive to the Holy Spirit our students…


Beth & I are wrapping up our love series today. I’ve been thinking about Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. today, as we observe his birthday. I spoke with a friend recently who marched with him. At the time, my friend was an 11 year old boy. I cried as he told the story of how Dr. King took a rock to the head from an angry onlooker, but kept marching. Our kids love who we love. They’ll hate who we hate. Dr. King’s dream did not die with him. His death will not be in vain. It’s up to US. We must love better. We must do better. I remembered a first grade teacher showing my class Dr. King’s famous speech. My boys are not much younger than I was when I heard it the first time. I pulled it up on YouTube this morning and shared it with them.…


Beth and I are looking at 1 Corinthians 13:7 This verse reminded me of Psalm 100:5, “For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.” How can anything endure every circumstance? How can something endure forever? It must be divine. That is the only explanation. It is FACT that there has never been a moment if your life that you have been unloved. Even in your darkest hour. At your worst. When you felt alone. When you were afraid. In your doubt. In your pain. In your guilt. In your best day. In all your victories – both big and small. His love endures. Like a long-distance runner who never tires. Like your favorite song on repeat, its beat guiding your steps as you walk to the rhythm. I want to love like that.


New Years resolutions are inevitable. Even when I say I’m not going to make them, I’m unintentionally making a resolution to not make resolutions! I hear the same things every year, too. Lose weight. Travel more. Try new things. Volunteer more. Spend more time with the family. There has to be a way of setting goals that inspires us to become the best version of ourselves, but aren’t unrealistic and don’t make us feel like failures if they go unaccomplished. Here is my list of five realistic goals I’m setting for myself in 2018. Continue reading at Portland Moms Blog  Here’s my first (and hopefully not my last) appreance on KGW.


Beth and I are contuing our look at love in 1 Corinthians 13:7. Were looking at how love is “always hopeful”.  But what do you do when it hurts to hope? Yesterday was our “gotcha day”, and the fact it falls on New Years Eve adds an extra element of celebration. (It was the 3rd anniversary of our adoption being finalized.) Whenever I hear the word “hope” I’m haunted by memories of the pain I felt because it hurt to hope. Your doctors tell you there is little hope for bearing children. Your body is another year older and betrays your deepest desire. Your faith tells you anything is possible. It’s a complicated mix of emotions. You want to be hopeful, but you also want to be realistic. I don’t know the answers for your situation, but I can tell you that in His love, hope is found. It may…