I Am Nobody

I am nobody. White. Female. Middle-class. A blur in the masses. 

I am not Hillary Clinton. I am not Oprah Winfrey. I am not Beth Moore. I am Barb. 

But… I write to heal. I write out of obedience. I pray I write to teach and to learn.

I grew up in a small town in the Midwest. I grew up poor, but not in poverty. I lived at the bottom of the street. The rich people lived at the top. Just a few blocks from us was where poverty lived. Black people lived on one side of the town. White people lived in the rest. A hold over from the days of segregation. I did not live through desegregation. (The law of that happened before I was born.) One of my best friends growing up was black. I stayed at her house on the other side of town. She stayed at my house. My favorite teacher was black. I never thought about it. She was just a great teacher. She loved me. I loved her. She just happened to be my good friend’s mother. They lived there, and continued to live there, because that was where family property was. I never asked them about being black. I didn’t know to ask. I didn’t know it was that different. I asked why she slept in a shower cap. That was a difference I could see. So I asked. I wish I had known to ask more. But, I didn’t.

As an adult, I’ve lived in 2 cities. I did not like the hustle and bustle of the city. I hate traffic! It wasn’t about diversity or crime. It was about the hurry. I did not like it. 

For the past 20 years I have lived in 2 small towns in the deep south. I love the south. I love the climate. I love the history. I love the manners. I love the people. But today, it makes me nobody. Far removed from the issues we are facing. Or so I am told. 

But, let me clear something up. I am SOMEbody. I am a daughter of the King. Joint heirs with His son Jesus. Righteous through the blood He shed. The core of my heart was evil. Just as everyone’s is. But Jesus came and cleaned it. Made it new. And because of that, and only that, am I able to love and see people as He sees people. Because of that, my heart breaks because I know his heart breaks. Because of that, I want to know more. I want to understand. 

The crimes we see today are simply a surface problem of a much deeper issue. Racism is still here. It always will be. It’s in every country. (Again, evil heart.) But we have to see the core of it all. I’ve watched it happen over my lifetime and it’s escalated to an alarming size. There is an overall devaluing of human life. 

That anyone could sit and film a man dying while another man (police or not) have their knee on his neck is horrific. They cared more about getting the video than helping save a man’s life. 

That anyone could film and watch an elderly man bleed out on a sidewalk because a police officer pushed him down, while yelling someone needs to help him is horrific. They cared more about getting the video than helping save a man’s life. 

That not ONE person stepped in to help the elderly man laying on the street gives me deep chest pains. NOT ONE!! The police officers looked at him and walked off as they called for an ambulance. Hundreds of protesters stood and looked at him, shouting for someone to help him.

How many stood around George Floyd and watched him die under the knee of the officer. Were they afraid? Without a doubt. But it’s time for us to relearn the value of a human life. 

SOMEONE HELP THEM! Stop watching them die. Value their life over your own fears. 

I don’t know how to end this blog, because there is no end. I pray someone reads this and next time they see harm coming to another human being, they remember and decide human life is more important than the video. Human life is more important than their fear. Human life is worth stepping in to save. Every human life!

I will. Because I am not nobody. I am a reflection of Jesus and he values life to a point that He gave His very own for every one.

I Miss Life!

I miss life!

There. I said it. What so many of us are thinking but afraid to say. As an extrovert, I am not ok!

There. I said that too. I am not ok!

But, it’s ok, to not be ok. I think that’s a coined phrase by someone, but it’s true. Not being ok is not the end of the world. In fact, quite the opposite. When we aren’t ok, we have to make some decisions, whether good or bad.

So, let me whine a bit, then share the decisions I’ve made. Good and bad!

We moved out of our house at the end of December 2018, in order to build our last house downtown. We love being able to walk out our door and go get a cup of coffee or have a drink at a downtown pub with our friends. So many things have happened to delay the start of this dream. So much, in fact, I really don’t think about the timing of getting there. I just know one day we will. Anyway, we are temporarily living in an apartment. It’s close to the local college, so we have a lot of college age neighbors. It’s also where many of our workforce housing people live. And I love all of that.


Except now when we’re all stuck here together. 

Our building process is being set back even more now with the Corona debacle.  I know people are trying. Banks are trying. Boards are trying. But it just sucks. Yep, I used that word because that is what it is. Then all the stuff going on around my living circumstances. Have to close my balcony door because a neighbor is smoking on theirs. Have to keep the puppy from barking because I don’t want to disturb the kids below us. Constant noise. Kids screaming. Babies crying. Dogs barking. Trash trucks. Loud muffler cars. Constant!! So I decided I hate this apartment!

Well, short of a miracle, we have the rest of this year to live here. So I have choices and decisions. My first choice was to waller. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t read. I could watch Netflix and play Candy Crush. I can’t, or I shouldn’t, get out and walk around a store or go have lunch with a friend. So I took a nap, played Candy Crush and watched Netflix. Then I made another choice. I wanted cake! Oh, I could eat a banana, but I did that the night before. I wanted cake! Off to the store I went and I bought that cake. Just a small one, but I did it. And I ate it. And Scott ate it. And it was good. 

Through it all, there has been one decision I have not changed. I will spend every morning when I get up with my cup of coffee and my Bible. Nothing earth shattering or life altering. I’m in the Old Testament right now, so it’s even a little confusing at times. But I do it. And I pray. That’s even harder than reading the Old Testament right now! And today, the still, gentle guidance of the Holy Spirit, let me know it’s all ok. Once we get through this, it will be so much better than we even imagined. We will have an appreciation we couldn’t have possibly had without all of this. He let me know it’s ok to have a time to sleep and debrain with Candy Crush. Then He let me know that the Father’s mercies are new every morning! So today I am ok. I am writing. I am learning. I am listening. And I’m going to be ok. Even if I’m not ok now. Even if my life seems way off track. Even if I have to sit in this apartment for the next year. I’m going to be ok. And so are you…

How are you doing? Are you ok? Are you not? Let me know how I can encourage you today.

When Life Comes to a Halt

When we celebrated New Year’s 2019 on a ship in the middle of the Carribean, we knew we were in for an adventure, but we had no idea the journey we would take. We moved out of our house with a plan. Our plan. One we felt sure the Lord had directed us to do. Move out of the house, live in our timeshare condo a few months, move into a friend’s house they would not be using for a few months, then move into our new home. It should be done by the end of the year and we would have a big Christmas celebration. Celebrating the new home, our last home, the one we’ve dreamed about. Celebrating settledness after a year of unsettled.

Front Elevation of our new Old Town Bluffton cottage 😍

Then January 7th, 2019 happened. The day our life came to a screeching halt. Not as devastating as bad health news or death, but still a halt. The day of job loss. Our only source of income at the time. 14 years of Scott’s life poured into a company, for them to decide his position is no longer needed. Just. Like. That. 

Sccrreeeech….. Call the builder. Hold up. This we can control. The rest?? Well, that was up to us to decide. We did not panic, like before. We breathed. We knew there was a reason for this. Do we control it, or do we “let it go and let God?”  It was an easy decision for us this time. We knew we had to wait, pray and listen. God had a plan. Of that we were sure. We had a choice. The Mary or the Martha? Mary, the one who sat at Jesus’ feet and listened to what he had to say. Martha, the one in the kitchen making all the preparations all the while missing the Words of the Savior in her house. Mary, soaking in all the wisdom coming from the Wisest. Martha, growing bitter and angry doing all the work, missing the wisdom. 

Sounds like an easy decision, but it is not. We can be Mary and appear lazy, defeated, depressed to those around us. We can be Martha, running here and there, finding odd jobs, new jobs, busy jobs. In our relationship, I’m usually the Mary, Scott the Martha. I’m used to that. Fully expecting Scott to get on the phone and start calling everyone he knew. What positions are available at your company? Do you know who is hiring? Spending hours on LinkedIn searching. But, he didn’t. We didn’t.

We prayed. Together and apart. 2 months was the “magic” number. Two months to just be still. Wait. Pray. Listen. As terrifying as it was, we were all in. We had 2 months in a condo – well, a couple condos – on Hilton Head. What better place to be told to rest and wait?

March 1, 2019 was the first day of the new job. Can you do the math? Almost 2 months to the day from when it all stopped and the Lord clearly said give it 2 months! That has been a year ago now. I wish I could tell you I’m writing this blog in my new home, but I’m not. I’m writing from a little 3 bedroom apartment we moved into last July. The Lord was not finished with us quite yet. We weren’t ready to stop waiting. We are no good at it! But, we did it. We obeyed. We persevered. And now we are on our way to a new house! Paperwork signed, the builder is starting to move all the pieces and hopefully….prayerfully…eagerly believing we may possibly spend Thanksgiving in our house. For sure Christmas. 

Nothing about this has been easy, but looking back almost all of it has been good. In our mid-50s and still learning. That is good. Submitting to the will of a Heavenly Father. That is good. Beauty and changes in our original plans. That is good. When the road ahead looks grueling and impossible, submit to the Father. Look all around and see all that is good. Focus on it. See where the Lord is taking you. Listen daily. For that is good!

Are you in a season of waiting? Can I pray with you through it? Let me know in the comments!

Is Your First Memory Real?

     What is the very first memory you have? How old were you? Most researchers believe most early memories are not true. We base them on stories we’ve heard or photos we’ve seen. That may be true, but does it make it less of a memory?

     I believe first memories can be foundational to who we are. It must have been an important event, even if a small one. Why would our brains hold on to it if it didn’t really matter? So, it got me thinking about my first memory. Why do I remember it? Why am I holding on to it? Am I making it mean more than it is? Was it real?

    It was springtime. They dressed me in my little yellow dress. I think I hated dresses even then. White hat with a yellow ribbon. White gloves. White patent shoes. It was Easter. I believe it was 1967 which made me 3 years old. I don’t remember church, but I know we went. I don’t remember waking up to an Easter basket, though I’m sure I did. What I do remember is my grandmother’s backyard. I’m sure if I could go back there now it would seem a small postage stamp yard, but then it was the world! Fully fenced with lilac bushes, lilies beginning to bloom, and hedges all along the fence that encapsulated the entire yard. 

I walk out the back door, down the 3 steps with my empty basket in hand and run as fast as I can to the little bushes to the right. I could see the color of the egg peeking through the grass. I grabbed it and put it in my basket. “Found one!” I hollered. 

That is my memory. Just me in the backyard. In that Easter outfit. Looking like a little doll my mom could dress up that day. It’s funny what we remember and why. Knowing my family and our past rituals, I am sure there were others there. Cousins aplenty. I’m sure all the moms were standing on the carport chatting while the kids ran around the yard finding the eggs. But, I only remember myself.


As long as I can remember I loved pleasing people. I would perform, smile, laugh, whatever it took to make them smile and keep them happy. If you knew my mother, you would know this was no easy feat. But, I remember her happy that day. I’m sure she delighted in what I was wearing. Yellow was her favorite color and I looked like a little doll. Then I would find an egg she had hidden and there was delight in her face; I had succeeded. Then, the part I can’t remember, but I imagine as history dictates, the rest of the time went something like this…

“Mommy, we found them all! Hide them again! Hide them again!”

“No, Barbie. I hid them once. Have your cousins hide them for you.”

And like that it was over. The attention, no longer there. Quick. Fleeting. Just as I remember. 

What is your earliest memory and why do you believe it is the one? Share with us in the comments below. 

Frustrations and Big Girl Panties

Photo by Asa Rodger on Unsplash

Six days into the new year and I’m finally able to sit down and think, ponder, pray. I used to rebel against the “word for the year” thing, but gave in a couple years ago when the Lord laid a word on my heart and wouldn’t let me get away from it! Last year my word was “unhurried pace.” Yes, I’m aware it is 2 words, but if ya know me, then you know…

This morning I went through my journal from last year. Every post had something to do with waiting, moving or transitioning. But, mostly waiting. Not what I expected the unhurried pace to be. Funny, because I don’t remember it as much, but seems I lived most of 2019 in frustration. Waiting is not my strong suit!

Frustrated we had to put house plans on hold. Then we began moving forward and one thing after another held it back. One year later we are ever so much closer but have yet to break ground.

Frustrated my book wasn’t progressing.

Frustrated I didn’t have a permanent place to lay my head (or unpack my stuff)!

Ugh! Frustrated!

Two things I learned about frustration, it can cause you to give up or you can learn from it and move forward. Better. Stronger. So today I felt I had to make a decision. Coming off a year of frustration, what was I going to do about it? I decided to quit!!! Done! Stay in my apartment, watch Hallmark movies and eat bon-bons all day!

Two things I learned about frustration, it can cause you to give up or you can learn from it and move forward.

OK, so that decision only lasted a minute or two, but sometimes it is what we want to do, isn’t it? The easy way. But is it the happy way? The joyful way? The fulfilling way? I dare say not. So, I’m putting on my big girl panties, (and because of the frustrations of the last year they are a bit bigger 🥴) looking back on some of the frustrations, and seeing how I can do better. What was the Lord teaching me? Where are the blessings in all of it? ‘Cuz I guarantee you they are there!

Frustration 1 – still sitting in this apartment when I was sure I would spend Christmas in my new house, or at the least, carriage house. Reality? Bottom line of financing still not signed. Plan approvals still not signed. Not one tree down on the lot, not one scoop of dirt removed. Reflection? I’ve prayed a long time that we can build a house with financing well below our budget that we can pay off in about 10 years. Changes to our plans, changes in the market, created changes in financing beyond anything we could have imagined. If we had pushed and pushed and made this happen 6-8 months ago, none of that would have happened. The apartment life is simple – not much to clean! Our efforts can be elsewhere instead of caring for a house and all that goes with that. What a blessing!

Frustration 2 – this book is not finished! At the beginning of 2019, with my unhurried pace attitude, I wanted to learn all I could about crafting a book. I mean, I’ve written things all my life, but never a book. If I wanted people to read it and understand it, I had some studying to do. But, I still thought it would be complete by the end of 2019. NOT!! Reality? It’s a little over two-thirds done. One section edited by an editor, second section so close to going to her. Reflection? I have learned so much! No one just sits down and writes a book. There is so much involved. I do two edits, then send to my content editor who shows me what’s missing in the story, then I go back and edit that section again. My book is 3 sections, so I do that for each section. Next, I will have 2-3 beta readers who will send back feedback and I will edit from their suggestions. From there, what I will call the completed manuscript will go back to my editor for a complete readthrough. I will do final edits on her thoughts and THEN I should be able to publish. But, publish where? More learning about the publishing industry. I’ve narrowed down some good possibilities, but no final decision yet. Who will read my book? How do I get it in front of them? Well, that’s where this thing called platforming comes in. This… what I’m doing now…. writing a blog. Building Instagram and Facebook followers. Getting my name out there so when there is a physical book in my hand, more than my husband and best friends will want to read it! (Side note – I dislike the social media part of this. But, it is necessary, so I see it as my job. The thing that needs to happen, but isn’t my passion.)

Blessings: New job for my husband that allows for regular travel to NYC and Israel! Because we were “homeless” for a bit, we spent a month with our daughter and her family at the end of her pregnancy and the first few weeks of our new grandson’s life. We have plans for a great house that is everything we could dream of. A good chunk of savings to put into the new house, because we lived in an apartment!

Don’t dwell on frustrations without looking for blessings!

2020 is here. A new year, a new word. I hesitated to pick one, but the Lord laid it on my heart in the first part of December. It came through this Scripture in the Message version.

There it is! Diligence. It’s time to finish what I started. It won’t happen magically, it will take a lot of hard work. But, I have what it takes. I will do what I can, not what I can’t! I am Ready after all. Let’s do this!

If you have a word for the year, share it with me in the comments. I’ll pray for you and your year ahead!