Five Minute Friday - Begin

Kind of a monumental moment here at Five Minute Friday. The passing of the torch. The last time she writes for us (at least as a host in this venue). After four years of weekly prompts, Twitter parties, and writing flash mobs, Lisa-Jo Baker makes the handoff to the beautiful, capable hand of Kate Motaung. It’s a milestone. But a good one. And as always …

On Fridays a bunch of brave writers gather here to all spend five collective minutes writing on a single prompt. It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week. This blessed, beautiful place where we open our hearts and let words and tears and the inner workings of our lives bleed and flow and dance across the virtual pages. Yes, this community opens wide and invites you in to share. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.

This week: Begin 

Go 

My eyes fly open in the semi-darkness these days. Shaking me out of dreams I don’t want to leave. Squinting into the half-light; wishing I could just roll over and make it go away. But I stumble out from beneath the sheets; quietly make my way out the bedroom door and down the hall to a shower that will hopefully do more to wake me than the alarm did.

It’s summer, so the sun warms me sooner than it will do in a few months. Routine kicks in and before long, I’m moving smoothly to the strains of Bach, Vivaldi, Schubert, or whatever else the conductors at KING FM have ready for me. If I’m lucky, my husband might rise early and help me with breakfast.

There might be bacon.

But even if there’s no bacon, there is still an unfolding day in front of me. A new chance to start it over again. A new chance to build. A new opportunity to do it better. A new chance to begin.

And this is a lesson that has been a long time coming for me. Me, who holds on and clings to all the things. Boxing and cataloging soap, stickers, notebooks, feelings, frustrations, broken dreams.

I cling tightly to them – sometimes even desperately – as if the holding equates to security. As if tightly clasped hands can grasp a gift. As if these things that I hold and clutch will be the things that save and define me. Forgetting all the while; that there is no safety and security in things. That clinging closes me; makes me unavailable for the newest, best thing that might be coming. That catching these things so close to my chest means that I am unable to spread my arms wide to embrace the endless possibilities that lie before me.

So I remind myself again that each day is new beginning. A time for new ideas. A time to be open – to others and their needs and to learn how I can be of service. A time to trust and believe. Handing myself over first and foremost in the quiet moments to God’s grace and mercy and commending myself and those I love to His care; I release the things I hold on to; step out into the new day, and begin again.

Stop


How to Join 
Want to know about how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Abide With Me

On the days you feel stretched and thin; more than a bit worn through, like sheets that have reached over-laundered perfection, where do you turn? Sheer thinness is wonderful for bedding – especially in these hot summer months – yet not so much for a heart and soul attempting to cover more lists and chores and “must-dos” than the day has hours for.

What do you do when the last bit of patience has been wrung out from the very core of you? And one more thoughtless co-worker; one more lane-changing-without-a-blinker fool; or even one more “Mama will you …” feels as though it will be the final straw on your nearly broken back.

How do you keep going when the beating heart has just gone out of the one you love; when you’re waiting on razor’s edge for the test results; when the gas gauge is two millimeters above empty; when you’re holding your breath and eating stacks of ramen just to make it to the next paycheck?

This world is rife with worry and circumstances that cause anxiety. Headlines from the twenty-four hour news cycle bring us up to the minute play by plays of all the best of the worst – and when there’s not enough woe – they’ll find a way to invent something new for us to worry about anyway.

Where is the shelter? Where is the breath of peace? Where is the respite from the ongoing onslaught of life? 

As I watch the summer chasing its way to fall with all the speed of a downhill slip-n-slide and ponder the projects yet undone, the school supplies that will need to be purchased, all the decisions that need to be made right this moment, I begin to feel frayed and wild-eyed and on a collision course with calamity.

Lord, I need you now. 

If nothing else, the things we cannot control only affirm for us that we have a great need of a God whose hand marks the time of the stars and who knows the pull of the moon on the tides as surely as He knows our hearts.

There is much of the prayers of the worn and weary in the beautiful hymn, Abide With Me, written by Henry Francis Lyte. Composed just three weeks before his death, the writer expresses both confidence in the nearness of the Lord’s presence and a continued appeal for the sense of it.

If you are find yourself feeling dangerously unraveled or simply weary from your journey, I pray that these words from my three favourite stanzas (and the music below) will be a comfort to you, and an affirmation of God’s unfailing love for those who seek His face.

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me. 

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me. 

I need Thy presence every passing hour.
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter@3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

I'm joining Simply Beth for her Three Word Wednesday link up. For this link up, choose three words; share a post, photo, or scripture that highlights those three words; link up here; and share some encouragement and blog love with other writers.

Tuesday Grace Notes – Tea: Lovely, Soothing, Life-Giving Tea

I can hardly believe that a week has flown by since I introduced Grace Notes. I hope you enjoyed last week’s introduction!

So many of the things that are grace notes in my life originate in the same place – or as I should say, have been handed down lovingly from one person: my mother. She is herself, the epitome of grace. A gentle, quiet, elegant soul with a heart for community and arms that stretch wide to welcome you in. She taught me music. She taught me journaling. She taught me to look for the very best in people and to strive to bring that out in them. And I remember her doing all of this and more, after a lovely, soothing, life-giving cup of tea.

One of the teas I associate most with my mother is Celestial Seasonings Mandarin Orange Spice. This wonderful herbal tea is naturally sweet and blends the juicy oranges with clove, coriander, and other spices that transport you – if not to the Orient – to someplace inviting and slightly exotic. That scent and flavour will always transport me home – curled up on the corner of my mom’s bed, sharing a cup with her and trading stories and memories under a gently twirling
fan.

It’s not much of a leap to go from my childhood favourite to one of the teas I absolutely adore these days. When Teavana opened its doors, I was immediately enchanted by the teacups, pots, and the oversized apothecary-like wall with all of the teas. Golden Monkey black tea is one of China’s finest; originating in the Fujian province, its full-bodied flavour is deep, rich, earthy, and hints at cocoa.

After moving to the Pacific Northwest, I discovered the wonderful store now known as the Metropolitan Market. I started shopping there when it was still Queen Anne Thriftway, but it remains a wonderful destination for food adventures and splurges. And of course, tea. I discovered Harney & Sons Paris tea first in their coffee shop, and then in the tin in the aisles. This is a fruity black tea that doesn’t need much additional sweetening. One sip suggests vanilla and caramel and just the slightest hint of Bergamot. And maybe that’s why I love it so much.

Though not quite the same, it has the familiar undertones of my all-time favourite tea: Earl Grey. Even before I heard Jean-Luc Picard ordering his cup “hot” from the replicator on the Enterprise, I was completely over the moon for this unique drink. This distinctive black tea is woven through with the scent of Bergamot – a small Italian orange that blossoms in the winter and is completely irresistible – at least to me. As a tea-drinker at heart who loves the idea, if not the actual experience of coffee shops, I was thrilled when the London Fog (or Earl Grey latte) made its way to the scene in the early 2000s. Combined with a little vanilla and a lot of steamed milk, this tasty treat is sure to please.

So here you have it – one of my favourite things to indulge in. A cup of tea – usually warm (but I love it iced as well). A little history. A little story. And a little bit of my mother too – to whom I owe my complete romance with the teacup.


I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Because Words Matter

There are words, and then there are words. The unimportant chattering of commercials and reality television; the chatter of talk radio as we drive to and from our destinations; the wild imaginings and sometimes incessant babbling of our children as they give us the play by play of their video game adventures. Those are the words that tumble and swirl around us throughout our day. They are augmented by a kind word from a coworker in passing; a quiet meditation that a friend prayers for us over the phone line; a warm murmur of affection from our spouse as the coffee is poured before breakfast.

Words matter. The ones we hear come and go – some quicker than others – but there is something about the words that make their way to paper (real or virtual) that can sometimes hold even greater meaning than the everyday banter and exchange of information.

Is it because we took the time to write them down? Because we’ve committed to those thoughts, feelings, and opinions – enough to memorialize them in ink or pixels?

When we write it down, we are saying, “this is important – this matters enough to remember.”

We also open our hearts and our own experiences to tell our story. To take a chance. To be vulnerable. Writing it down very often means sharing it. Outside of journaling for personal reflection, writing invites others in – it asks someone to come alongside you and join with you for a while; perhaps even to find commonalities and areas for connection between your stories and theirs.

The written word is a gift we give as we offer meditations, characters, story arcs, and ideas out into the larger world – as Madeline L’Engle said, “to feed the lake” that is the dynamic accomplishment of creative creation that comes from the artists and the souls who answer their gift.

For the writer who calls Christ their home, the written word is also a responsibility. The willingness to embrace the ideas and ideals larger than our own; to accept the Word of God that has been given – as well as the word that He puts in our hearts to share – and to continue to further the knowledge and celebration of the glorious, fierce beauty of the Word that saves so we can play our part in the promise of Isaiah where he writes,

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. Isaiah 55:10-11 ESV 

And as we write; as we contemplate the mystery and vast expanse that lies before us and from which we draw, let us mindfully pray that we be good stewards of these words.

Words matter.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14 ESV

This is my prayer.


I’m linking up with one of my favourite people and favourite communities today – Kaitlyn from Just Takes One is hosting a link up for friends participating in Round Three of the #fmfpartysnailmail. Talk about the beauty of the written word! This group that grew out of the Five Minute Fridays shares weekly letters amongst a growing group of women (over one hundred this time!) for an eight week period. The letters help develop the community and encourage and uplift both the sender and the receiver (my experience at any rate).

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Five Minute Friday - Finish

Five Minute Friday is a must-do for me. I can’t stay away more than a few weeks. And even those are a bit painful as I contemplate the writing I’m not doing on Thursday night – even if I’m changing it up for something equally fun. And even on days when I’m sick as a dog, I still can’t resist the pull of the screen and the keys, and the idea of the community flash mob around one of the things I love the very most in this world.

On Fridays a bunch of brave writers gather here to all spend five collective minutes writing on a single prompt. It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week. This blessed, beautiful place where we open our hearts and let words and tears and the inner workings of our lives bleed and flow and dance across the virtual pages. Yes, this community opens wide and invites you in to share. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.

This week: Finish 

Go 

I am not a sports person by any stretch of the imagination. I don’t have a home team, a favourite team, a special team. I’ve been known to deliberately (and obstinately) wear alternate (and even opposing) colours on the days that work memos ask everyone to dress in Seahawks blue and green. I knit my way through the Super Bowl (if I’ve even present to see it). I don’t cheer. I don’t holler. I don’t call the hogs (sorry Mama). 

On some unconscious level, I think I’ve been determined to pass down my non love for sports to my daughter, because that’s what we do, right? Pass things down? Even the weird stuff.

But I’m also determined to let this amazing little creature find her wings and develop her own passions because I am equally determined that she learn to find her own way and become the person that God (not so much me) has in mind for her to become.

If you follow any of my personal social media, you won’t have missed the fact that my girl is on the swim team this year. She’s been swimming for ages, but this is the first time we’ve taken the big step into organized training and competition. Sports.

Suddenly, I find myself amending my “not a sports person” stance as we ferry her to daily lessons, practices, and meets that have us rising before dawn on the weekends. I chase down training videos and clips of past Olympic medalists on YouTube to inspire her; coordinate specific goals between her coaches; and study up on the right things swimmers need to eat and when.

At practices, I find my eyes staying on her constantly moving form and less on my book or my writing. Each lesson stretches her and pushes her just a little more. We remind her (and the others); “don’t look around!” “eyes on the wall!” As with any sport, the end is always critical. In swimming, milliseconds count. The last few yards and feet are the ones where you have to push more, kick harder, extend, stretch, and leave everything you have in the water. Finish hard into the wall.

I am infinitely proud of how hard she works, and am so happy that its swimming she loves. I have to laugh at the idea that this is me now: I am wearing team colours. I am standing at the edge of the pool leaning in. I am cheering. I am hollering. I am pulling for her with every ounce of my being. “Finish hard into the wall!”

Stop

 
How to Join 
Want to know about Lisa Jo Baker, how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

Stay tuned - next week (August 1) will be Lisa-Jo's last week to helm the Five Minute Friday. She's passing the torch to the lovely Kate Motaung, with whom we will continue to spill words and write brave.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Tuesday Grace Notes - Bach Cello Suite No. 1, Yo-Yo Ma

For some time now, I have had my mind and heart on something new. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was out there – percolating; forming itself in the ether of my imagination; gathering life and shape and sound. And then two posts came together that helped me see what it was I’d been after.

I had to the opportunity to share some of my favourite things with the participants of the third round of #fmfpartysnail mail – all got to read about some of the little things I love and one lucky winner got the whole lot. This past Friday when the Five Minute Friday prompt came out, I found myself writing encouraging words to a larger audience. This was several steps outside my comfort zone – I love to encourage, but feel so much safer doing it one-on-one. This time though, I allowed the Lord to lead, and those words spoke to more than one heart.

Those two things – small treasures from my life and a desire to encourage others – are coming together in Tuesday Grace Notes.

I’ve never written of it here, so you probably don’t know that I come from a strong musical background. My mother and father both sing. She plays piano. He and my brother play guitar. Our family has sung in choirs (often led by my mother) for as long as I can remember. I played the piano from the time I was five until I graduated from high school; started playing the cello in fifth grade (through my senior year), and taught myself how to play the guitar fairly reasonably when I was in seventh grade.

Needless to say, I’ve seen some grace notes along the way.

A grace note is a music notation used to denote several kinds of musical ornaments (usually printed smaller to indicate that it is melodically and harmonically nonessential, but don’t believe that last bit). It’s sometimes referred to as a leaning note, as when the grace note is performed it sounds as though it is leaning in the direction of its associated principal or resolving note. However, the grace note offers a variety of effects and influences applicable to the melody of the composition. The grace note ornament, when placed and performed properly, increases the emotional impact of the music on the audience. In fact, the use of the grace note adds beauty and depth to the melody. 

And that is my goal for Tuesday Grace Notes – a small bit of harmony amidst the other things I write about. Shorter (if I meet my goals) than my usual pieces, and just a little something to add a touch of beauty to my life and yours. One week it might be a wonderful book I’ve read and can’t put down. Maybe it will be one of the movies I love (or its soundtrack). You might find a favourite recipe here. Or the new soap I’ve just discovered.

But since the term is born from music, I must begin my grace notes with a piece of music I love, by one of my favourite composers, played on an instrument I adore, and brought to life by an artist who renders it like no other. I hope you enjoy the grace note that is the Prelude from the Bach Cello Suite No.1 by Yo-Yo Ma.

  

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Five Minute Friday - Bloom

It’s been too long. I haven’t written a Five Minute Friday post I weeks. That’s not a terribly awful amount of time. But it’s been too long. Too long without the delicious surge of words that flow at the reveal of the prompt. Too long without the company of these women that feel like home to me. Too long without pushing myself to see if I can stay within the limits and boundaries (not always). But always, there is the safety and comfort of this community.

On Fridays a bunch of brave writers gather here to all spend 5 collective minutes writing on a single prompt. It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week. This blessed, beautiful place where we open our hearts and let words and tears and the inner workings of our lives bleed and flow and dance across the virtual pages. Yes, this community opens wide and invites you in to share. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.

This week: Bloom 

Go

You feel them. I know you do. I see you there. As I’m out online perusing the blogs and roaming through the Twittersphere. Sometimes you duck your head and whisper softly. Sometimes you linger against the virtual walls; leaning back and letting your fingers and eyes dart around the space that begins to feel like a room that you see through a door that is really only a screen.

The words call to you – you feel them pulsing in the very core of your being.

You write. You know you do. Even if you don’t have a blog (although you might), you have a journal, a notebook, a folio, or some secret stash of crinkled notes where the nouns and verbs and brilliant syntax swirl and dance and pour out of your heart and spill onto those pages. Scattered seeds seeking fertile ground.

I’ve seen you testing the earth where these seeds fall. You send something out into the wild of the ether; closing your eyes and praying that they take root. That someone reads. That someone hears. That the idea that you were born to write is more than just a dream you had when you were nine and you carefully lettered your name on the front of that speckled black composition book and said, “this is for my own.”

I have to say this tonight – I have to tell you that you are a brave sower of seeds; an adventurous scatterer of thoughts and ideas; a ground-breaking, edge-walking cultivator of creation. Your joyous gathering of praise. Your quiet meditations of hope. Your aching recollections of loss and longing. These things that go out into the unknown – these gifts that you plant. They will sink deep roots. Maybe not immediately. Maybe not always. But they go down. They take hold. Perhaps some will only grow for you (some blossoms are meant to be adored by only one). But they will grow.

Springing out and up, they will rise up and become stronger, more confident, more diligent, more faithful, more authentic. As you count your thanks and cultivate your gift, your words and your stories will go out and bear fruit. They will bloom. They will shine.

Be steady, beautiful heart. You are seen. You are known. Whether writing for the world as it abounds or the Majesty of an audience of One, you are cherished. You are loved.

Stop







How to Join 
Want to know about Lisa Jo Baker, how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

This Thing We Do (A Writer's Blog Hop)

I love the way we do this thing we do. We writers. We creatures of word and syntax. Dashing through jungles of simile and metaphor; braving the wilds of punctuation; wrangling meaning and gist from every bit of language that we can.

It was then, with both exuberance and trepidation, that I gamely said yes to my friend Marcy’s invitation to climb aboard the summer blog hop and share space with her and other friends.

Marcy is someone I would run across the room to hug – and if you know anything of me from reading here, you’ll know that is no small feat. I don’t run. But I had been anticipating meeting Marcy at the 2014 Faith & Culture Conference this past Spring and we’d been Tweeting each other all day and night waiting to say hello. When I finally spied the lovely red-head across the room (I was so sure it was her), I sent another message and was pleased to see her head fly up; eyes searching the room as soon as she read it. It was a three hundred days and thirty steps to the most welcoming hug and we laughed the whole weekend long as our online friendship continued to blossom in real life.

Marcy is a tremendous advocate for adoption and infertility awareness and has authored two books that highlight this issue. Have a peek. You’ll adore her as much as I do.

She handed off the blog hop questions to me, and I’ll give them my very best. Although be forewarned: if you ask me the same questions six months from now, you may get entirely different answers! Except number three. That one will always remain the same.

1) What am I writing or working on? 

I’ve actually been trying to take some intentional steps back recently and evaluate what I’m writing about and why. I’ve been looking for balance in my writing – largely because so much of it tends to be about the intense hard things. I think they’re important, but they’re not representative of the whole of my life (or any life), so I’ve been looking for things that are equally important, but perhaps not so heavy. To that end, I’ve been writing more about my family and things I enjoy – most recently cooking. I have a little more time in the summer and I’ve been relishing the ability to wander and dabble in my kitchen; creating new dishes; canning things; and generally making a fun, happy, delicious mess. I’m also working on organizing some long-term blog projects with the How They Blog Kit from Kat Lee. It’s a terrific resource and helps me focus and prioritize the writing on my blog.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre? 
I’m a lifestyle, faith-based writer – like many of my writing friends. So I’m not sure that my work differs that much. I think where you see the difference, is that we’re each writing from our own experiences; our own trials; our own discoveries of where God has led us and what He’s doing in our lives. I often feel called to write about what I consider the hard things: anger, living with chronic illness & disease, brokenness, and the areas where I fail and fall down. Several years ago when I began to find purpose in blogging, I committed to transparency and authenticity – even when it was hard. And it is hard. Sometimes there are things I don’t want to write and don’t want to say. But I trust that the Lord is leading me to those words for a purpose, and that those words will be used to bless and encourage others.

3) Why do I write what I do? 
I started to segue into this with the last question. And I think it really comes down to this: the only reason I am at the place in my life that I am now; the only reason I have walked the through valleys and the deserts and come through on the other side; the only reason I continue to have joy and hope in my life in spite of and in the midst of difficult (and sometimes terrible) circumstances is because of God’s grace and mercies that have been poured out on my life. My life is not
perfect – far from it. I struggle with physical, emotional, and spiritual complications on a daily basis. But God is faithful and never leaves me alone with more than I can carry. My hope – especially in writing about the hard things – is that He will use my words and the work that He has done in my life to encourage others who are walking a difficult path who might feel they are without hope. If there is anything in what I write and what I share that will point them to the amazing, healing love of Christ, then I have done what I have been called to do.

4) How does my writing process work? 
I’m not the world’s most organized blogger. I don’t have a set order of days that I write and post on. I used to try and do that, but that’s just not where my heart is right now. There are three main ways I work through my writing:

Prompts – the Five Minute Friday or Three Word Wednesday are probably the most frequent and consistent, but there are others I enjoy as well. The host of the link-up provides a word, phrase, or other kind of leading, and that’s what the writers write about (and then usually share). These are usually structured writing exercises that are (somewhat) spontaneous. I find a lot of my heart-writing pours out here when I just have to dive in and go. They’re also great building grounds for community. 

Planned Posts/Series – When I have my organized hat on, I use Kat Lee’s How They Blog kit, (see, there I go, plugging it again) and get smart about creating arcs and themes for my work. I highly recommend the kit and the website as a resource for helping to focus your blogging and to streamline your process. I have a few in the works now, so you’ll have to check back and see what I’ve been ruminating on.

The “Why Nots” – Sometimes these are the most fun. The muse descends and I must write. I can’t tell you what the posts will be about or when to look for them, but sometimes my best writing happens just because.

And there's a bit about me. But this is the really fun part.
This is where I get to introduce you to some pretty fabulous writer-friends and invite you into their spaces to hear their words and their stories.

Amy Boyd
Amy is a girl who lives in the grip of God’s grace.  Her heart is to stitch together her past mistakes with His forgiveness to show the beautiful life He designed. The scrapes of her personal journey as wife, mother, writer, speaker and bible teacher is one that illustrates the faithfulness of God in the midst of challenges.

Amy lives in Alabama with her high school sweetheart, Mike.  Her two grown children, Anthony and Samantha make her so proud every day.

Visit her blog to hear wonderful words of encouragement, join her on Facebook for fun, or connect with her on Twitter to keep up with the verses, thoughts, and insights she shares.

Amy and I met through the (in)courage and Five Minute Friday communities. As I discovered how real online friendships could be, our own friendship grew. At first we talked about pens, tea, and other favourite things, but over time, this relationship has grown to share pray requests, things that we carry in our hearts, and our hopes and dreams and where we pray the Lord takes us. If you are new to online friendships, I would encourage you that they can be as real and tangible and precious as the ones you share in your day-to-day life. I look forward to sitting down with Amy face-to-face one day over cups of iced tea (frankly, we may need more than one day!).

Sarah Knepper
Sarah is a stay-at-home mom of three (soon to be four), an engineer’s wife, a lover of words, and encourager to women. She is a southern transplant from Tennessee living in Central Ohio. She writes over at Redemption Dairy about faith, family and lots of grace.

Visit her blog to hear wonderful words of encouragement, join her on Facebook for fun, or connect with her on Twitter, Instagram, or Pinterest - good stuff here!

Sarah is another (in)courage and Five Minute Friday friend (are you sensing a trend here – you’re so right!). When I first started reading at Sarah’s place, the thing that struck me the most was, “wow, the girl is willing to be so very open – about all the things.” Her story moves from one of a single mother who would watch other families in church and quietly nurse her hurting heart, to one of a woman loved and redeemed – both by the Lord and the man she adores (and who adores her back). She tells some hard stories and balances the fine line – never falling into self-pity – only into the hands of a loving God. Having lived some hard stories myself, I always love another writer who is willing to tell them and let His light shine through.

Sarah Jo Burch
Sarah Jo lives in the South and is rediscovering her sense of adventure with her handsome and hardworking husband and inquisitive daughter, and blogs (usually over a cup of tea) about faith, the everyday life of a wife and mum, loving her neighbors, gratitude, and knitting - with pictures between. You'll find her at Paper-Bark Burch, posting between dishes and rescuing a Small Person who just learned to climb.

Visit her blog to hear wonderful words of encouragement, join her on Facebook  to follow Paper Bark Burch, or connect with her on Twitter to discover what she loves.

Sarah Jo is a beautiful, authentic spirit that I’ve met only recently. And yet it's beginning to feel like so much longer than "recent." This spring, we co-led an (in)courage small group called Art in Your Life with Karrilee, and I was so inspired by how Sarah Jo looks at the world. I keep discovering things we have in common: music by Lindsey Stirling, all things elvish, knitting, and counting thanks. She’s also from the part of the South where my mother’s family comes from, so there’s some more joy there! When you read Sara Jo’s blog, you’ll be struck by her willingness to be honest and vulnerable and will enjoy so many wonderful pictures of her life out and about and her darling little girl.

Hope you've enjoyed my leg of the blog hop. Each of these friends will be introducing three more friends next week, so be sure to check back with their blogs to find more terrific new writers.


I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

sometimes i breathe

finally –

after the blasting heat
of the hours before,
and the wilting hot damp
that will not let me draw a breath –
eventide falls.

gilded light glazes trees and hillside
till they flow with the promise
of glory days to come
and reflected majesty;
warming this lonely earth
(and the ache inside).

summer skies are
bleached the pale of well-worn denim;
soft enough to wrap weary hearts
and tired bones of tired mamas,
and swimmers well-spent from miles of laps,
and skaters chilled from hours of spinning jumps,
and dogs panting
from just one more lap around the field.

this is the quiet time –
when the breeze sweeps in
on the back of the swallows,
tipping into shadow,
as birds dive for empty ripples;
remembering they have no need to fear;
they are cared for –
this is the hallowed moment
(the time between times)

and in this moment,
sometimes I breathe.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

I'm joining Simply Beth for her Three Word Wednesday link up. It's been over a month since I joined this circle of writers, and I have missed them. For this link up, choose three words; share a post, photo, or scripture that highlights those three words; link up here; and share some encouragement and blog love with other writers.  

I'm also so very pleased to be joining my dear friend Jenn for her No Words Are Needed link up. I thought since this was one of my own photos this time, I'd share here. Jenn has such a beautiful, generous heart - I hope you'll take a moment to visit her blog and read her words.

Holding On To You: Finding God In The Midst of the Things that Hurt (guest posting at My Freshly Brewed Life)

The most beautiful summer day lies right outside my back door. A clear blue sky like an accidental spill of water across the table; cherry trees vibrant with verdant green leaves – so similar to the birds that perch in their branches; the warm sun soaking in to fresh cut grass and smells like happiness and memory.  

I see these things around me and they make me smile. For a moment. And then I’m not smiling. I’ll have taken a step. Or stretched something out too far. Or moved too quickly and realized that one of my joints isn’t cooperating. There is pain.  

This is a daily challenge and struggle I wrestle with – and imagine that so many others do too. But we don’t talk about it. The things that hurt – whether physical, mental, or emotional. 

Continue reading here … 

I’m so blessed to be guest posting over at my friend Barbie’s blog today. You may remember her from my interview a couple of weeks ago where we talked about her painting and Art in Her Life. Barbie’s space is always a restful, encouraging place to visit. Her words lift you up and her desire for God’s heart is a beacon in this world.

The words I share on her blog today are not easy and light. They may be encouraging, but they are hard. I have felt God pulling me to write about the hard things – I have more experience than I’d like to admit with them, these deserts – but by the same token, these hard things have brought me closer to God and glimpses of His grace and mercy.

If you find yourself in the midst of a hard space or time, I pray these words speak to you and give you hope.







I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Letter writing and some other favourite things (and a link to a giveaway!)

Raindrops on roses. Whiskers on kittens. Bright copper kettles … you know how the song goes. The Sound of Music was the very first movie that my parents took me to. I think I was five. I fell in love with the soundtrack and played the record over and over again; acting out the storyline from our living room to my
bedroom.

Years later as my husband and I strolled through the Barvarian-themed resort town, Leavenworth in my beloved Pacific Northwest, I heard those same songs piped through the town’s loudspeakers and surprised him by singing along to every song. Every single one. Every single word. Still more years later when my daughter was born, I held her in my arms and rocked her in our shared hospital bed. When she needed comforting, the songs that came flowing out of me were from this same movie: Favourite Things, Edelweiss, and more.

I have a lot of favourite things. I think they’re good to collect around you (you remember how very much I love to collect things, right?) to remind you of good memories; to guard against negativity; and just because beautiful lovely stuff is fun to have around.

Now sometimes – many times – favourite things aren’t actually “things.” The sound of words. The smell of summer. The feeling I get when I dance with my husband in the kitchen. A new favourite that is a thing (and yet isn’t a thing) is writing letters. I have always loved this way to build friendships and communicate – even with the advent of quicker technology. Nothing is quite the same as sending or receiving a hand-written letter from someone who is near your heart.

And several months ago, one of my favourite communities (the Five Minute Friday and #fmfparty) expanded into something more. My friend Kaitlyn is the gatekeeper and organizer of this part of the community, and she tells the story best here. I have loved connecting even more with the women and friends in this group: getting to know new people and deepening friendships with the ones that I have already been growing with. There’s just something really wonderful about making an investment in the lives of women who share your faith and your passion for writing.

We’re about to kick off round three of this adventure, and our ranks have grown from over thirty, to over forty, to one hundred and twenty. Amazing. That will be fifteen groups of women writing to each other for eight weeks to encourage, uplift, and pray.

To celebrate, we’re adding some new dimensions this time, and part of the fun includes giveaways.

I told Kaitlyn that I just had to share some of my favorite things with this group, because this group is one of my favourite things. You can enter over on her blog if you’re signed up to be part of Round Three ... let me tell you about what I have planned for you.

Cards & Postcards: I love writing letters. I love encouraging others. I love cards. So much so that I could probably open my own retail store with what I have the space of our home. You can’t do the #fmfpartysnailmail adventure without them, so I’ve picked out 8 cards (plus 2 postcards and 2 mini-encouragement cards) for you to help you through this round. They’re a collection of ones I’ve loved and sent – mostly from Dayspring, but a couple are from Current. Because I don’t discriminate. I just love cards.

Stickers: Along with the card shop I could open, I could probably host a year-long sticker bar. Again, with just what I have in my home. I’ve picked out two of the sets I like best – cupcakes and ladybugs – for you to adorn your envelopes with. I think it makes the sending even more fun.

Pens: Don’t even get me started. This is beyond a favourite. This is a full-fledged addiction. And I’m okay with that. I own more pens than most people I know – and that’s saying a lot in the company I keep (many pen aficionados among them). I really love these Pilot G2s (I must have seven or eight different colours) and I hope you will too.

Chocolate & Tea: While these items are not directly related to letter writing, they are definitely on my favorites list, and it’s always nice to write a letter with a warm cup of tea next to you. Early Grey is my go-to warm drink, and is the basis for the one latte I’ll order from Starbucks (try a London Fog some time when it cools off – it’s divine), and salty dark chocolate is about the only way I’ll eat the sweet stuff these days. Curl up and enjoy!

Magnets: I have an incredibly talented friend who is so crafty and becomes a master at whatever she decides to pick up. She had a business called

Vintage Susie for several years – lots of very cool shabby chic type items. These handmade magnets are from her collection – I have several sets on my own fridge.

Notebooks: Sigh. I’m really confessing way too many of my happy obsessions here in this post. I don’t have nearly as many notebooks as I do pens or cards, but I’m not saying that the stack isn’t high. I’m just saying I could probably go three years without needed to buy another one of any size. But that’s probably not going to happen. Tuck one of these next to your bed. Tuck one in your purse. They are so handy and go anywhere.

So there you have it. My own list of favourite things – ready to package up and send off to one lucky participant in Round Three of #fmfpartysnailmail.

Be sure to click right over here to Kaitlyn’s blog to enter.

I can’t wait to send these things your way!








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I love you ... have a bite

Bright, fresh pico de gallo

There are thousands of ways to say I love you. Flowers. Cards. Box of chocolate. A little kiss under the arbor while the rain is misting. A myriad ways to express tender feelings and deep emotions for those you care most for. Everyone has a love language – more often than not, we have more than one.

One of my most fluent love languages is food.

I love to cook. And I’m going to clarify cook vs. bake here, because I’m decidedly better at one than the other. I can bake up a cake and make a beautiful batch of cupcakes. My brownies are pretty good and my cookies are worth eating. But baking just isn’t as much fun for me because baking involves a lot of measuring, some serious science, and let’s face it: rules.

I’m not always a rules girl, so the exhortations to have exactly one and one half cups of loosely leveled something or another or three cups of something else; just at room temperature – not so much to my liking. In baking, missing one or two ingredients often means a trip to the store or more complex measurements to concoct some sort of substitution.

Deep, flavourful chili - about the only thing I use beer for

But cooking. Ah, the idea that I can wander into an incomplete kitchen and create something on the fly. Or as I am more wont to do: look at a recipe – or three or four – and take my favourite parts and mash them up together into some sort of new deliciousness. I love cooking because of its artful inventiveness and because I never quite know how things are going to come out until the're done.
And the best part – really, the very best part – is the looks of happiness and anticipation on the faces of my family and friends when they begin to smell things percolating on the store, or wander in and see a colourful pile of diced and sliced fruits, vegetables, and other fine things being mise en placed into readiness.

Our favourite stir-fry: lots of chopping, but so worth it!

The smell of onions and garlic in butter will do that to people. As will the deeply variegated layers of spice in my chili. I grew up watching my father as the main cook in our kitchen and the Asian influence of those childhood dinners still lingers in my meals today. There is generally a whiff of shoyu (soy sauce), hoisin or oyster sauce, definitely sesame oil, and yes – ginger – in the dishes I serve up.

Bringing a sense of fullness, completion, and satisfaction to my family makes me happy. Watching them savor each bite – sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly – makes me happier than many things.

Last night, in the warm summer evening, I sat with the doors and windows wide open and easy, mellifluous jazz spilling out of the speakers while I chopped piles of tomatoes, peaches, cilantro, and onions for two dishes: fresh pico de gallo and tomato peach salsa. I blended a scant bit of barbeque sauce with some of my

Spicy, tangy tomato-peach salsa - so good chilled

previously mentioned Asian staples and put some chicken in to marinate for the grill. The scent of fresh corn in their husks lingered around the sink and blended with the mellow perfume of yellow Spanish rice. I gave in to the cats and cracked the back door so they could wander in and out and back in again; taking long moments to roll over and over again on the warm patio in the shadows under the lawn chair. I stirred salt into the tomatoes and let fresh ground pepper fall through my fingers. As I sliced through the lone jalapeno, I could feel the heat and the sting run through my skin and up through my eyes. Even that felt good though, knowing how that heat would ease and balance the sweetness of peach.

Before long, I heard the hard thunk of the garage door opening and my family rolled in smelling of sunshine and chlorine. The loud exclamations of delight over the bowls of snacks and dinner on the way gave way to happy murmurs as they dipped picco de gallo on chips and sniffed the chicken that was ready to go.

I love you. Have a bite.







I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!