My Journal
Where I share my thoughts in words.
the blessing of not being chosen
Feelings of inadequacy and rejection are some of the most painful in human experience. And all of us have been acquainted with them. How we process them matters. Our disappointments don't have to define us. This guest article is one that I asked my eldest daughter,...
starburst in july
It really burned. As many times as Callie had attended fireworks events on the 4th of July, she had never had a spark fall on her until now. It had been an unusually beautiful burst of color. She had been absorbed in watching it until the last glimmer faded,...
summer of the bicycle
Stella couldn’t imagine life without her bicycle. As she pushed her ten-speed down the sidewalk toward the repair shop, she had to smile to herself. She could practically chronicle her life in bicycles. She remembered the first bike she ever...
song of the mountains
Lilly Jean hiked her skirt to her knees and dipped her toes into the water. Ooooh, it was cold. It could be hot outside as bacon sizzling in her mama’s cast-iron skillet and the mountain stream still felt like water dripping off an icicle. She stuck her other...
the sea shell
“I’m going to walk along the beach.” I drop the words over my shoulder as I walk past the recliner where my husband sits. I touch his arm; he half-smiles, his eyes lazy with fatigue. “Okay. But don’t stay too long; I want to take you out for supper.” I...
a broken seal
Claudia adjusted her toga as she approached the garrison. Maybe she would see him today. She absently fingered her new coif and hoped that the hairdresser had woven the cords tightly around her cluster of curls. She had to look her best for Vitus. She had scarcely...
the bomber jacket
( a story set in vintage times)There was a hole the size of a saucer in the bomber jacket. Allison Jean Hopkins stared at it and wanted to weep. The steamy finishing room was almost intolerable by this time of day, and her frustration meter was already in the red...
coffeehouse surprise
Bistro tables scattered at angles on a plank floor. Book-lined shelves flanking a stone fireplace. Leather chairs placed in little nooks. A glossy counter scuffed with years of scrapes from coffee mugs. Normally, it was the kind of place that Rayne Hartwell would...
a police escort
Gracie Peters pushed the gas pedal harder and fought against her better judgment. A girl had a right to a trip now and then, even if it was only to see her sister-in-law in the next state. Ka-thump. She put her ear close to the window. A flat tire? She craned...
a yellow umbrella
It's a bit fanciful, a bit fairytale-ish, but still fun. This little story was inspired by my own mother's fondness for this Norman Rockwell original as well as my personal sentiment for the romance of rainy days. Enjoy. Rae powered off the computer and glanced...
