This has pretty much been home for the last couple of weeks. Up for short visits with grandkids and I attempted church yesterday. For someone who has her hand in many pots, this has been a radical pace. 
Thoughts race through my mind; I just haven’t the energy to capture them on paper. Perhaps, some words are just best laid up in the heart. Life can become pretty self-absorbed from this view; I don’t always trust that perspective. 
This too shall pass.  

Am I fading into the woodwork? I’m beginning to feel invisible. My voice evaporates in the conversation; I’m not sure I’m invited to the table any longer.   
I remember sitting with my own gray-haired relatives, soaking in their wisdom, their rich history. Will mine ever be received or has the lure of the screen finally buried my generation’s treasury?
My soul is lonely this holiday season, but this I’ve rediscovered: without a voice, I will wither.
 “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” Maya Angelou 

This week I've learned...

For years I've recorded my gratitude...in worn journals, on scraps of paper, on my palm! It's helps me to worship God in good as well as bad times. 
But recently, I've wanted to remember the important (and not so) things that I've discovered throughout the week. It started as a writing experiment and quickly turned into something much more intentional, a means of making sense of the input that bombards me on a given day. Perhaps you've seen Mom's Five Second Memory Journal or One Line A Day...similar concept.
I choose three things and as a challenge, I list them in succinct sentence.  Only in my journal do I add extra details of what led me to record them, but publicly, I don't want to rob the statement of its simplicity and symbolism...kind of like a well-stated "tweet."  
I'm planning (oh, those well-laid plans) to add them here on a regular basis. How fun it would be if you would send back your own "lessons" in a sentence in the comment section below. You don't need to sound like a writer; just be honest and if you like, anonymous.
As you'll see below, I added a reference to a song I downloaded several weeks ago. (For the over 50 crowd to whom I belong, Chainsmokers is a band.) I really like their song, Don't Let Me Down and the lyric, right now I need a miracle. My simple statement about chain smokers is actually multi-layered. I'm reminded of  the following: even those with whom we disagree need God's grace, I'm daily begging for His intervention, I wish Rob was here to help me make the important decisions, and even deeper, my relationship with my mom, who died because of this gripping nicotine habit, remains complicated.  There's no way you could have caught all of that, but that's the idea; you make it your own "lesson."
So here goes...

Week One
Things I've learned this week: After 2 eye surgeries, 2 eye procedures and a ton of eye drops, gently tilting the bottle improves the aim (no need for a vertical dive bomb to the pupil,) The Guess Who's "These Eyes" is still very relevant, and fixing my eyes not on what is only temporarily seen, but rather on what is unseen and eternal is great Truth. 

Week Two
Things I've learned this week: Even chainsmokers need a miracle, we need not always keep our "broken" so unspoken, young widows will look heavenward for what seems a lifetime.

Week Three
Things, I've learned this week: we can take a good thing and turn it into an ultimate thing*, there are no shortcuts to sanctification, and when in doubt, just show up! (*Tim Keller's Counterfeit God)

Well, now you have it: a great big run-on explanation from someone who rarely puts down her pen.  

Your turn...

"Me too!"
A young father shares his firsts without his wife and through the lump in my throat, I whisper, "Me too!"
I selfishly hope he continues to pen his journey; maybe we all need a little company as we walk through rocky firsts and seconds and maybe, even thirds. 
A busy dad, navigating unfamiliar waters...can he afford the time and emotion to bleed on paper; can he afford not to?
I doubt that Jason sees the strength and encouragement he offers others through his early days of honesty. But God's definitely not done with the Tippetts' story; He still desires to show His abundant goodness to this corner of the world. 
Even as I encourage Jason's writing, I admit it is harder for me to write these days. Why bother; we all get it: grief is a constant, annoying companion.    But what if one fellow fumbler needs a safe place to reply, "Me too!" and questions if there is more than just hurt?
Words remind me of a buffet.  We can take a serving of some and pass over the ones we don't desire...and sometimes, we even return for seconds. Feel free to sample here and pull away when you are full.
Yet, like a lot of you, my favorite part of a buffet is the dessert, especially if it is topped high with meringue and nestled in flaky crust! I seem to always make it to the end for the culinary prize.
Makes me think...
What a loss if we only scratch the ugly and never reach the beauty. Obedience calls us to finish the story.