Category Archives: 5 Songs I am Singing

Song is my love language.

Song for a Sunday // The Perfect Valentine

You don’t give Your love in pieces, You don’t hide Yourself to tease us…

My youngest daughter, Stormie, introduced me to a song a few months ago that is a powerful tribute to Love, true Love, the God-kind of Love; the Real Thing.

Amanda Cook and Steffany Gretzinger wrote this song, “Pieces.”

{{Chords and lyrics here}}

Love keeps its promises, it keeps its word

It honors what’s sacred, cause its vows are good

Your love’s not broken, it’s not insecure

Your love’s not selfish, Your love is pure

Happy Valentine’s Day, to all who need love. Here ya go!

jesus lover of my soul

1 John 3:1  See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.

Singing solo…

I recently looked back at my very first few blog posts, way back in the olden days of blogging. The first few were right around Christmas of 2006, so of course, I couldn’t help but talk about Christmas and all the ways I love it.

In this post {click here to see the original}, I shared a quote from a cup of Starbucks coffee. I liked it. I am glad I wrote it there.

singing solo...joining a group #quote

We can sing beautifully alone, but to add harmonies, to join with voices blending, sharing the emotion and depth of meaning in the words: this is best.  Life and songs and Christmas are meant to be shared.

I’d Buy Tickets to See…

We had our family October-birthday celebration a couple of days ago (three of us were celebrated, our years totaling 96…do not ask how many of those years I hogged up). We may or may not have had two big pans of homemade brownies, 2 types of ice cream, chocolate cake (icing on the side) a giant pumpkin pie and whipped cream, sang the birthday song three times with appropriate claps {happy birthday to you *clap-clap*}, passed out dozens of presents to oohs and aahs and had a major paper-fight with wadded up gift wrap.

We also did the birthday-question-hot-seat where we ask the birthday celebrants questions about anything at all, important and not so much.

10 30 15

Jovan, Hunter and moi.

One of my kiddos asked who I’d like to see in concert. I couldn’t even think, there were so many names in my brain. I totally forgot I started this list last February. So, here it is, even though I know I have more to add (who are they???)! :)

Kenny Rogers

Dolly Parton

Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton together, I’d get front-row seats.

James Taylor

Carole King. Her story. Her songs. Her piano-pounding.

James Taylor and Carole King together would make me pass out with delirious happiness, possibly never able to recover.

Neil Diamond. Because. I love singing along with the Neil.

Elvis Costello

Willie Nelson and Alison Krauss. I’d see Alison alone and I love Willie, but I want them together!

David Cassidy. No question. Please come to Denver, David Cassidy (“we’ll go up into the mountains so far that we can’t be found…” But my husband Dave will be there, too, of course. I am simply after some singing.)  :)

Paul McCartney. I should not have to explain this.

Leonard Cohen. I say this. I said it once before on this blog and he was IN TOWN without me knowing it. That is not right.

Sigur Ros. Because my kids tell me their shows are amazing and they have such great taste, those talented children of mine.

Brad Paisley. Musical genius and such a great lyricist!

Elton John, again. Last time was with Billy Joel, which was very cool, but I want more Elton, lots more Elton. The man can write the anthemic like nobody’s business. His melodies and his fingers on those keys!

The Eagles, again. Because they are The Eagles. Also, I really like Glenn Frey.

Boz Scaggs. He has just gotten better with age, I think. I would volunteer to be one of his back-up singers. :)

Bobbie Gentry. But she doesn’t tour anymore. Boo-hooooo.

Diana Ross. In Vegas – I want the whole over-the-top, coat-dragging show!

Matt Redman. In Denver TONIGHT! (Dave & Tara are taking me as part of a belated birthday gift, yaaaaay!)

Speaking of which, Dave and Tara Powers, at the Armory Performing Arts Center in Brighton, Colorado.  Check this out! :)


Oh, I am going to be at THIS concert for sure and getting my picture taken with Santa! ABSOLUTELY!

So kiss me and smile for me

So kiss me and smile for me

Tell me that you’ll wait for me

Hold me like you’ll never let me go*

My mom asked me a few months ago, having watched a documentary about the late John Denver on PBS, if I would maybe “go in” with my siblings and buy her a John Denver CD for Christmas. She didn’t want to tax me too heavily, lovely woman that she is. <3

jdenver leaving

So, Dave made a CD of John Denver songs from his iTunes and I took it to her when I went to visit 2 weeks ago. She was so surprised. She barely remembered the documentary, if at all, and certainly didn’t recall asking for a CD, but she was happy to have it.

My visit this time has a musical soundtrack. And it is the sound of John Denver music drifting from her corner room, from a little CD player she can no longer remember how to work on her own, even though my sister painted “play” in large white letters.


My sweetest mamala is suffering dementia, being treated for Alzheimer’s Disease. And the changes are so gradual if you’re in the room with her, that they’re much less perceptible. But I am not there, so when I visit, changes are glaring, and I lose my breath for a moment when I see another part of her gone. My dad always asks me what I see as different because he is “in the room,” day and night, night and day.

When I visited 2 months ago in August, during our family reunion, she kept asking me what words were on a stitched pillow her best friend had sent to her. “Friendship,” I’d tell her. She’d look intently at it and then say, “Oh right, there is the ‘i.’ Oh, and that’s ‘f’.” Then she’d say, “Friendship.”

15 minutes later, she’d pick the pillow up and ask me again. Everyday I was there, several times.

I asked my dad, “When did she begin to lose reading?” He was so surprised, he had been wondering why she wasn’t reading her Bible each morning like she always has. Reading is not totally lost to her yet. But it mostly is. She still keeps her Bible and her beloved dictionary close by at all times, but they are rarely opened. Sometimes she has to really focus her gaze for a long time to make out what the newspaper article is about. And if the article is continued in another column, or heaven forbid, on another page, she thinks they somehow just quit writing and finds it foolish for them to have done that.

This time, my most recent visit, she couldn’t sing Mairzy Doats, a beloved song from her childhood, with me anymore. Wherever it is she is going, down whatever hall dementia is taking her, that song doesn’t make sense and those aren’t real words so she cannot remember them at all. And she has no desire to recall them. My mom sang that to me my whole life. Then she sang it to my children. She and I sang it to some of my grandchildren. She always thought it was so funny and delightful, singing those tricky words that were really other words. But now it’s just “nonsense” to her, which it really always was, I guess. But still.

mom laughing oct 2015
My main goal, when we are together now, is to laugh with her. Laughter is so good for the bones.

So she wanted to listen to John Denver’s soothing beautiful music. She particularly loves Rocky Mountain High and Sunshine on My Shoulders. And the song all our family legends are made of was on repeat one day, Back Home Again. She had to call to play it and sing it for her best friend in Tennessee. She mostly hummed, unable to recall words she has always loved. And she’d comment to her friend when a line of the song said something sweet, like, “…the light in your eyes that makes me warm,” She’d say, “That reminds me of you, Ronnie!” It was sweetness.

mom at sundown

But all week, Whenever the song, “Leaving on a Jet Plane” began, she’d come and hug me and say, “Oh, I don’t want you to go…how many more days do I have?” And I’d usual just say, “I’m here for a whole week,” even as the week was moving along. Because it would put her at ease and she’d say, “Oh, good.”

Then we’d giggle and sing along with John Denver, mom mostly humming and inserting comments.

All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go. I’m standing here outside your door*

“Oh no, Jeanie. Here let me help you un-pack your bags!”

I hate to wake you up to say good-bye.*

“Don’t wake me up for that!”

‘Cause I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again*

“You better get back here again quick!”

That is so true, mamala. I know you won’t see this blog (computer navigation was one of the first things to go), but we’ll laugh about this in heaven…

A couple of days before I had to leave, three of us were sitting on the love seat singing together, my mom, my little sister, and me. It was hard finding songs my mom could recall the words and following lyrics on the computer was’t working either. I went to a karaoke site and pulled up “Leaving on a Jet Plane.” We started singing away, getting that tight 3-part harmony from heaven found among family members alone.


But as we came to the words, “So kiss me and smile for me, tell me that you’ll wait for me,” I had to look away and I couldn’t sing. A catch in my throat and the tears began, because I heard her singing the words, but I knew, she won’t be waiting for me. She is going to keep walking this path and each time I see her, there’ll be a little less of her there.

I have heard Alzheimer’s called The Long Goodbye.  And so it seems it must be. My sorrow at watching her have to endure not just the memory loss, but the confusion, the frustration, and the growing inabilities to do what she loves is compounded by living over a thousand miles away. Knowing my time with her will be so limited by the miles between us, I will take every possible second of this long goodbye to hold in my heart.

Every chance I get, I will go to her and bless her and praise her for the woman she is and hug her tiny self as long as she wants (and she loves long hugs). I’ll massage her shoulders and brush her hair and stroke her face and let her curl up on my lap like she is my little girl. There is so little I can do, but I’ll hold on as long as she needs me to….

Hold me like you’ll never let me go*


Give her everything she deserves!
    Festoon her life with praises!” Proverbs 31.31 The Message

Learn more from The Alzheimer’s Association Alzheimer’s is the 6th leading cause of death and is not just about having a diminishing memory. As the disease progresses, a person with Alzheimer’s loses their ability to walk, to sit and eventually to swallow.  Please pray for my sweet mamala, if you will. *Norma Jean*

*Lyrics to Leaving on a Jet Plane, John Denver.

The days grow short

A meandering post…

The grandbebes.

Oh, it’s a long long while
From May to December
But the days grow short
When you reach September

I refused to loosen my grasp on summer, as if it would cause it to remain. And we have had an unusually warm and dry Autumn, temperatures soaring daily in bright sunshiny days regularly, so it has been easy to pretend.

Hunter catches and runs in the touchdown!

But the colorful-Colorado drive to the mountains a couple of weeks ago, yellow and orang-ish Aspen leaves tumbling and floating down the higher in elevation we got, the season changed for me. *snap* Just like that. I guess it really is fall.

When the autumn weather
Turns leaves to flame
One hasn’t got time
For the waiting game

sept 30 near allenspark, co
On our way to the top. Near Allenspark.

Oh, the days dwindle down
To a precious few…

Our niece Lori”s place in Estes Park. She always has a room for us.

This Season

The days are shorter, the evenings are cooler. The grass is greener, enjoying the break from relentless summer heat. The garden has gone wild, producing madly, somehow knowing the end is in sight. Cool-season crops, planted in August’s warmth, are deliriously happy this year. Radishes, lettuce, kale and arugula can be seen dancing in the moonlight.  With a little love and occasional cover, who knows? Maybe we’ll harvest for the Thanksgiving table? It doesn’t have to be the end {yet} of the gardening year. But it’s close.

I brought in a shopping bag full of tomatoes, zucchini and peppers three days ago…


Guess what?

If I were a garden vegetable, I would be a tomato plant. Of course I would. Search this blog for the word, “tomato” and you’ll see why.  The homegrown tomato is my all-time favorite, for no flavor like them can be purchased anywhere. They arrive all spring green and exciting on bushy-leafed plants and then become blood-red and juicier over time. Like we do.

Aging actually defines and colors who we are, what we bring to the proverbial table.

But the September and October tomato isn’t as flashy as the summer tomato.  The fruit is smaller, even as the numbers increase. Nearing the end, the tomato creates a veritable flurry of flowers-to-fruit, propagating itself for posterity. It’s like it is saying, “I won’t be around forever, these days are getting awfully short and I’m losing sunlight, but I’ll make sure to leave you with plenty to enjoy and seed for the future.”

It isn’t about being maudlin or morose, but I know things now I didn’t know 20 years ago. I know “the days dwindle down.” I recall my irrepressible youth. I couldn’t see the end of the blue-sky, sunny-summer days ahead and even though we always heard “We’re never promised tomorrow,” being young also makes you certain tomorrow will always be there.

Like my annual tomato plants, we have a certain number of days, the seasons set and measurable with some variations.  We have a limited supply of sunshine and rain. And then our days are gone. And we hope we will have produced life-giving, good fruit and plenty of it and have left extraordinary children and grandchildren to make the world better for the future.

I’m somewhere past the middle

Where am I now, September? October? I’m somewhere in the middle, over half my days are gone. I need to kick it into high gear, for goodness’ sake! :)

It has taken me the wisdom of the years I have lived to understand so many things and, wow, I have much left to learn. But so many seasons have come and gone and the people planted in my life’s garden to begin with are the ones still to tend, you know? Many wonderful friends and acquaintances pass by and we enjoy the love, the meals, but my people remain for me. Along the way, every possible distraction, possible (probable) offenses and seductive “once-in-a-lifetime” opportunities beckon. New things and flashy adventure present and they are wonderful, but the home garden is where the best nourishment remains even as, and especially as, the days grow shorter.

Over half my days are gone, but the ones that remain are bushel-baskets full of sage advice, wisdom, love (oh the love), nurture, insight into the future (I’m further along – I can see things ahead you may not yet have seen, my sweets); there’s discernment I can share and prophetic words I am anointed to speak and though the fruit on my vines is not the flashy, all-knowing fruit of my youth, I bear prolifically now, enough for my household and those who need refuge. Come one, come all…

So spend your days wisely, the endless supply you seem to have now.  And feast on the days your most important people have to spend on you, receiving the grace of years humbly and gratefully.

And these few precious days
I’ll spend with you
These precious days
I’ll spend with you

My favorite version of September Song

(lyrics above) by Willie Nelson. Naturally!

Seven Sweet Summer Things // Thought-Collage Thursday


Hot coffee and ice-cold watermelon. It’s what’s for breakfast. Although, this morning, it was actually a luscious peach from Colorado’s western slope. Oh. my. word! Mmmmm!



Memory: The best summer meals I ever ate were as a kid at my Aunt Rosie’s house: grilled burgers, garden fresh tomatoes and corn on the cob, straight from her backyard. Watermelon for dessert. The tomatoes and the corn were all I really needed, though. Still.



Garden Talks:: I approached the chorus of 6-foot sunflowers near the back line this morning, after a 2-week absence. I am quite sure they hadn’t heard I was home, as they had their gazes firmly fixed eastward, probably wondering where on earth I had gone.  “I’m back,” I announced, “you may now heliotrope to your heart’s content.” Hopefully they won’t be all stand-offish and soon I’ll see their gaze coming my way. West, my sweets, west.

The pumpkins required a stern talking to, spreading out and covering the sage and butterfly plants as they were. They do require a great lot of space, to be sure, but they mustn’t just override their garden companions with no thought for the ‘morrow. They are safely tucked about now, room to spread and grandly producing round spheres for autumn pies.

Some tiny varmint is eating the white petunia petals and I don’t wonder why, scrumptious as they are, all frilly and pretty in the late summer sun. But still, this may require a squirt of cayenne pepper sauce to dissuade their voracious appetites.

Left to her own accord, the basil is attempting a one-woman show in glorious floral bloom. “Not yet,” I must insist. For once the flowers burst forth, the plant’s usefulness is limited. There is more pesto to be enjoyed, more hand-crafted pizzas to be flavored. She’ll get her stage soon enough.

Naturally, while I was gone, the thistles and goat-heads thought they could safely become one of my garden family, just tucking themselves in here and there. Not a chance, little outlaws. I am coming for you!

All the potted flowers and veggies are moaning a bit under the distress of timed waterings instead of being coddled and cooed over daily. The tomatoes, my garden’s royalty, are fruit-full, yet sort of droopy and whining laments. A little extra attention twice daily should have them perked up soon enough.



Family reunion. 38 of us gathered in mid-America, or was it 39? The mamala and papasan, their children (we original 5 + spouses), most of our children’s children and some of theirs (the greats).

koob game

Come and gather around at the table
In the spirit of family and friends
And we’ll all join hands and remember this moment
‘Til the season comes ’round again


My great-niece-dog, Sadie

Family is so important to me. My family-of-origin is scattered across the nation. We’ve never all been living close together, not since the late 70s, before families of our own, careers and ministries…but the testament of our connection shows up semi-regularly.

Our very first Ross & Norma reunion was in 1995. My parents were celebrating their 38th anniversary that year (Dave and I, our 14th). In a few days, my parents will mark their 58th anniversary and my daughter Stephanie and her husband, Tristan, will be celebrating their 14th anniversary. Wha…?

Did that really just happen? Life, it speeds. No bumps can slow it down. You may quote me on that.

koob girl team

Let’s all try to smile for the picture
And we’ll hold it as long as we can
May it carry us through
Should we ever get lonely
‘Til the season comes ’round again

the mom



{purchase this print here}

Indiana was filled with lightning bugs. And the cicada’s song, rock stars all, I tell you. And swooping bats (perhaps driven crazy by the loud singing?).


The weather report:: The daily sun is hot in the bluest skies, but fading to gentle evenings, perfect temps and fire-y skies. Brilliant sunsets dazzle me. And remind me how quickly the days pass, making me a bit melancholy, too.

my mamala

My mamala

But sunrises fill me with hope, every morning. There is an undeniable mercy in the gift of a new day. The early mornings have become downright cool now, requiring sleeves. The relentless sizzle of mid-summer when I left in late July is transitioning to something new, a season shift. It’s good, but it came so quickly. I am always tentative about change and concerning summer? I “never can say goodbye.”


Summer songs. There is something about songs that remind you of summer, the ones you sang in younger days with the windows down after a DQ ice cream cone or a Dr. Pepper and McDonald’s fries.

pinterest image summer song


“Summer Breeze,” Margaritaville” (a Moslander-reunion fav even though the bunch of us are tee-totalers); “Summer Loving” from “Grease,” “Indian Reservation” and “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.” “Close to You” by the Carpenters! “Annie’s Song,” by the incredible Mr. John Denver and “Kung Foo Fighting,” because I had brothers. A weird mix, to be sure, but some of these just showed up during the summers of our youth and never leave our hearts. It is always about the song to me. Always.

Hope your summer is sweet.

As the blog header says, “Summer should get a speeding ticket.” It’s like getting bangs. You can work for-ever trying to grow long hair, but the minute you get bangs, they just grow right on out in like, a week!

Summer is like the bangs of a hairdo. We wait for a looooong time for it to arrive and then, BAM! Over.

So enjoy it all you can!

What’s been your bets part? Tell!

Thought Collage Thursday // Therapeutic Things

eleanor brownn quote

That’s my mom in the picture, enjoying her back yard! :)

Oh, it’s that time again!

That’s right, friends and familia, far and wide. This Thursday’s child is wild about Thursdays and my brain is inevitably running-over with an assorted array of somewhat disconnected thoughts and observations. Although I must tell you, I love finding the common theme after I have blurted it all out. That is always when the finished title emerges. Today? Therapeutic things, because you can and should attend to yourself, spirit, soul and body. Stay strong and healthy – it will bless everyone you love!

Enjoy spring.

I mean – can anyone really comprehend what it is like to have to live in a state that is so sunny-bright on these 70-some degree days in the spring with almost-zero humidity? Must I bear this cross alone? …Just kidding around with you, and maybe gloating a little.

The rainy days just past were purely lovely (more to come, I hear). They did what only spring rains can do. But the warm sun that follows, releasing the lilac’s deepest perfume – well, ’tis a glimpse of heaven, I am certain.

common lilac

NOTE:: If you do not own a lilac bush, go (immediately) make friends with some one who does and ask them if you might just stuff your face into the fully-florrid blooms in the heat of one of these spring-afternoons for just a few minutes. Therapeutic!

I wish I could dance.

I can’t. I can. not. Really. Everybody tells me it is possible, that even I could learn, but it isn’t. I was raised that dancing was a sin. My parents became Christ-followers through a “holiness” group that put the kibosh on most anything fun as being a “worldly amusement.” They pretty much lived by the mindset I am in the world, but I will not be amused by it.

Now my mom did say, many times as I was growing up, “Well, they tell me dancing is a sin. but if it weren’t, I’d get you ballet and tap lessons.” Haha. The obvious dilemma being that there was no differentiation, in the holiness standard, between dancing for joy, for art, for the beauty of movement and that shady stuff happening at dimly-lit parties with men putting their arms around other men’s wives after a few martinis, lusting and smoking cigarettes. No, just to be careful – rule out ALL dancing.

Never mind that the Psalmist, a man after God’s own heart, danced in the Bible! He also took his clothes off to do it. So that story never got told with flannel graph in Sunday School!

Somewhere along the way my parents figured out that dancing, that joyous release and movement celebrating being alive, and even the slow dance between married lovers, isn’t a chute straight to hell. They dance now! I even have video and photos of it, which makes me happy!

But it’s too late for me.

My feet are nailed by the heavy stakes of holiness-past to the ground. I’ve got rhythm. I just can’t seem to use it. I dream of it, though. I have dreams where I can run and twirl and leap and dance and practically fly. So, I can’t dance for now, but in heaven, I’m thinking I’ll be able to and wow, loving the thought!

HOWEVER – if you CAN dance, you should. You MUST! Therapeutic and free!

This really works.

Want to feel accomplished? Want your mind to be cleared and your life ordered in a way that makes sense? Grab your garden gloves (buy a pair at the dollar store), and a grocery bag. Head out to your garden squares or borders, the places where last week’s rains made the weeds feel all haughty and strong. Set your phone timer for 5 minutes. Grab hold of the obvious weeds at the base, the ones emerging in your borders and along fence lines. Pull. Tap lightly to return the soil to which they were clinging to its’ rightful place and fill your bag. In 5 sweat-free minutes, you’ll have stuffed that bag with unwanted, noxious weeds and given yourself a gift to enjoy later.

You can do this in the morning when you first arise, the cool of the day (God is always hanging around gardens, I have found). You can do it when you’re on the phone, or while the coffee brews. It works when you’re heading out or just getting back home, a 5-minute weed-pull here, another 5 minutes there.


Today it’s a chore, sure. But next week,  when you look at that small area, the ones where the weeds threatened to overtake your yard and garden (or where the grass hopped happily in to your garden beds), you’ll smile and reap the rewards of the time you tended your space. 5 minutes a day or a few 5-minute grocery-bag stuffings throughout the week: you’ll stretch and move and breathe and tend and have accomplished big things in short spurts. Good for the brain and body, satisfying for the soul.

“The Lord God placed the man in the Garden of Eden to tend and watch over it.” Genesis 2.15

WARNING: Unused winter muscles will feel it and hurt, but in a good way!

Why you should sing.

Singing is amazing. This articles says singing (1) boosts cardiovascular health, (2) stimulates the brain, (3) reduces stress, (4) naturally heals and (5) builds confidence. But it’s also just fun.

You also need no special equipment to do it. And if you want to sing and be courageous, too, join a karaoke site. There are thousands of songs you can sing with just your smart phone and ear buds and it’ll be simply for your fun and enjoyment. And while I suspect it may have been considered “worldly amusement” by some for all of the “secular” songs there, I think it’s fun for the heart and soul. And they even have worship songs and church music if that’ll make it better for you. ;)

life is a song


You have to be brave and silly to sing on a karaoke site, but I’m doing it and it’s making me breathe deeper, which I need. I just posted “Harper Valley PTA” on a karaoke site this week and it made me laugh so much at myself. I loved that song as a kid, even though, as you might imagine, people who don’t dance also don’t like these types of drinking-adultry-miniskirt-type songs. :) But I did it. I just sang it anyway.

Len Sweet’s Bible Credo.

reading your bible

This poetic post about the Word of God, the scriptures, our Bibles – just made me want to go grab mine right away and get started on digging out the treasures, trying to comprehend the mysteries and just knowing the author of Love better, all over again.  Too much of my life has been spent shooting {or dodging} “scriptural truth bullets,” reading to try to figure out the “rules” or staying on the doggone one-year reading schedule** to earn divine points (true confessions). Sometimes this magnificent treasure has felt burdensome or life-killing. I do not want to pass that on to my grandbebes. I want them to experience the Logos and the Word made Flesh the way Len Sweet has so poetically  shared here.

“I believe you can’t go through the Scriptures without the Scriptures going through you… changing the drumbeat of your life as you dance to a new rhythm….I believe reading the Bible is not a disciple’s homework but a disciple’s holy play.”  ~Leonard Sweet

Did he say something about dancing??? :)

Read it. You’ll find yourself looking for the first available free moment to crack it open, to devour its pages and receive the words of life again! And again!

**PS I am not against reading plans…I have just botched them so badly I end up hurrying through and miss the whole {beautiful, “holy play” } point!

Call your mom.

Seriously. If your mom lives nearby, VISIT her. If she is far away, plan your next trip and call regularly. NO ONE has loved you longer! Except the Creator. But He chose her for you!

My mamala:

mamala collage

Let’s throw a parade!

As kids, parades were so easy, nothing but excitement, sound, color, horses (and shovels), Shriners in costume jewelry and little cars doing circles and patterns, with princesses on floats and marching bands. When you’re a kid, you don’t have to worry about where you’ll park and how you’ll fight the crowds or worry about who will clean up the paper mess afterwards.

But I liked this (from Pinterest, via Etsy):

kindness confetti

Let’s throw a parade! Let the kindness fly and the fun begin. First in our homes, with the people we love the most and then every where we go each day (school, work, stores, church) and give everybody the best parking spot and the curb-front seats to just being nice, in word and deed. We can make everyday a celebration-worthy holiday for some one, I am convinced!

I promise you, you’ll have the chance TODAY to be kind, or not. The confetti is in your hands! {No clean-up…now that IS therapeutic!}

Happy and Blessed Thursday, friends and family.

Take care of yourself and “Hey!” as they used to say on Hill Street Blues (which coincidentally aired on NBC’s Must-see-TV Thursday night line-up, “Let’s be careful out there!”

Snowfall ~ A Playlist for Snowy-White Winters

I just realized I should have added “A Few of My Favorite Things,”

“Silver-white winters that melt into spring…”

Oh well.

News flash: I am living in the arctic tundra. Not really. Still Denver. But it looks like the arctic tundra. It feels like the arctic tundra! It is not just cold, people, it’s downright frigid!

“God thunders wondrously with his voice;
   he does great things that we cannot comprehend.
  For to the snow he says, ‘Fall on the earth…'” Job 37 

My friend Kaye posted on her FB yesterday,

If it was 100 degrees warmer, I would not be sad.

Meaning:if it were only 80 degrees outside.” That’s right! It hit 20-degrees-below-ZERO in parts of Colorado yesterday, which was common when we lived in the perpetually icy Minot, ND and the main reason we do not live there now! Ay-yi-yi!

But, you know, standing at the window with a steaming cup of coffee in my hand, I can look out at the snow sparkling in the sunlight on New Year’s Eve and be quite romantic and idealistic about it. For now, anyway.

A Playlist // {click here}

snowfall playlist

Includes: Lots of standards (like Snow from the movie, White Christmas, and A Winter Romance by Dean Martin, some Bing, some Sarah Vaughan, and even Julie London), a little pop (The First Snowfall, Carpenters), a nod to country (Anne Murray’s Snowbird), some bright-kid-fun-tunes (Pretty Snowflakes by Peggy Lee, Little Snow Girl, too), and a few deeply reflective songs (Lazy Snow and Somewhere it’s Snowing, see lyrics below).

“…when snow covers the earth,
That it hides the worlds scars,
and gives nature new birth…

God’s grace, like the snow, is falling again!”

That final song encapsulates what the snow always really reminds me of, when fresh snow, like grace, covers the faded, dormant landscape. The imperfections are evened out, the brown leaves along fence lines and even the litter in highway ditches get covered in a thick blanket of white purity. And underneath it all, where the eye can’t see, magic is happening. The snowflakes have joined hands to hide the forthcoming, joyous surprise ~ The Creator is fashioning a spring, having sent snow from His storehouses (reserved for times of trouble, stockpiled for when we need it most, see Job 38.22-23). The snow is suspended moisture. It speaks of a future, of a spring-green hope, His word in us, causing growth and fruitfulness again, regardless of how dead or lifeless our fields look today.

“As the rain and the snow
come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” Isaiah 55.10-11 NIV

Grace to you, friends and familia on a snow-covered day in Colorado.

Are you warm enough?


A Christmas Lullaby Playlist – for the grown-ups

Three days out. And for the joy and the love, for the Savior who came, may we live in the peace He brought, the Peace He is. For He came, Emmanuel – God with us {GOD – actually WITH us!}. Don’t miss the magic, the mystery, the relief of a Savior who came and now abides.

This is for all the little girls, from 1 to 92, or so, for quieting your heart this week. With love.

Spotify playlist, {{click here}}

christmas lullaby playlist

“Come, Emmanuel

Come and reign in us

Come and speak to us, fill and renew us

Come and live through us, Emmanuel”

sig keep christmas

Song for a Sunday // Lord, I Need You

A song for a blustery season…

matt maher lord i need you

Lord, I come, I confess
Bowing here, I find my rest
Without You I fall apart
You’re the One that guides my heart
Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

Simple, but powerful lyrics by Matt Maher, led here by one of my all-time favorite female vocalists, Leann Albrecht. This song is a prayer. Pray it with me.

Lord, I Need You/I Need Thee Every Hour

Starts at 00:48:10 and ends around 0:58:30

Broadcast live streaming video on Ustream

Where sin runs deep Your grace is more
Where grace is found is where You are
And where You are, Lord, I am free
Holiness is Christ in me

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

Teach my song to rise to You
When temptation comes my way
And when I cannot stand I’ll fall on You
Jesus, You’re my hope and stay

You’re my one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You


This should take you straight to the link also

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Lord, I need you lyrics