A Single Raindrop, A Lost Treasure, and the End of Writer’s Drought

Rain falling from leaf (2)This morning I can breathe again. Inhaling deeply, I smell rain in the air, though the forecast calls for clear skies.

Stepping into the parched writing world of my home office, I blow on the layer of dust covering my desk. Particles dance into my nose.

I’m a foreigner in a once-familiar place. As I open my laptop, I sense a changing wind. Outside the open window, a new cloud hovers. Could it carry a drop of rain, ending my writer’s drought? cracked soil

The foundation on which I stand is cracked and my soul is somewhat withered. Even so, my feet are steady and my home – mine again.

Readers who’ve followed my blog may recall my post titled Today’s a New Day … Are Yesterday’s Bridges Still Burning? 

I spoke of our 23-year-old daughter, who I called Treasure. After a period of unrest in her life, Ed and I took her into our home to assist in aligning her life. I wish I could say that we were helping to realign her life, but that would mean her life had once been aligned. That hadn’t been the case since she was barely a teen so it doesn’t apply.

Unexpectedly, my life went into a tailspin when Treasure joined our household. I’ll spare the details other than to confess that despite sharing an undeniable measure of love for each other, Treasure, Ed, and I simply could not live together in a mutually compatible way.

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Fasting from Social Media, Feeding My Soul

until we meet again[Sigh]

I guess it’s time to do this.

Curious about where I’ve wandered off to in recent weeks?

I’m still breathing … quietly.

A little over a month ago, I started feeling the affects of a starved soul. I’d been spinning in circles, wanting to be the strong, supportive friend, daughter, wife, and mother to everybody I knew, but in the meantime, I was crumbling on the inside.

One of the reasons I started this blog was to meet others with whom I share this world, who struggle through life alongside me, and who wish to know and be known by other spirited, yet faceless bloggers.

I wanted to hear your voices, even though I may never know how they sound.

It’s been a blessing and has helped me to grow in more ways than I could have hoped. But through it all, I became overburdened and neglected the heartbeats of my writing. With two blogs, work, a large family, church commitments, and various social media sites, I’d bitten off a bit more than I could chew.

My spirit became encumbered and every aspect of my life was effected. Marriage. Kids. Faith. Church. Friends. Writing.

My soul felt as if it were covered in a heavy shroud, oppressed. For the first time since I became a Christian, I even found myself questioning the significance of my Lord and Savior. As strange as it sounds, I didn’t question His existence, but His significance.

Shame on me.

I let the enemy influence my thoughts and, in weakness, I allowed myself to be pulled away from the most important thing in my life; my relationship with Christ.

My two current writing projects, Holy Cow; a Christian-based children’s book about addiction and Unsung Lyrics, a novel which God called me to write almost a year ago, have all but stopped growing due to lack of attention and severe malnutrition.

finding jesusAfter a great deal of prayer, soul-searching, and conversations with trusted friends, including my pastor, I’ve decided to hit the “pause” button on my blogging and social media for a while in order to feed my soul and realign myself. I also hope to refocus on the heartbeats of my writing.

Strangely, I’m a bit sad about this decision as I’ve grown to know and love many of you, my dear readers and fellow bloggers. At this point however, I’m of little value to anybody unless I go “off the grid” for a while to readjust my focus. Stop the spinning. Reset my feet on solid ground.

I hope you’ll stick around. Wait for me. Be patient with me.

I’m thankful for you. I really am. And I don’t want to lose your blogging friendship. It matters to me.

In the meantime, I will continue to follow the blogs of my regular peeps and I look forward to being inspired by your wise words and thoughtful posts. I also remain available as your partner in prayer, so don’t hesitate to send a request through the Have a Prayer Request?” page on this blog. I’m honored to be a prayer warrior for you!Findingin Jesus 2

We’ll meet again in the not-so-distant future. Until then, I wish you nothing but UNBRIDLED JOY and BOUNDLESS BLESSINGS!

Aislynn’s Bliss (Where’s Yours?)

Feet dangle freely


Aislynn Elise

Colors ignite

Santa Cruz Boardwalk

Is everything right

Smell cotton candy

Look at the sea

They soak through her lens

She sighs, blissfully

Whether it’s through a camera’s lens, the tip of a pen, or inhaling the Spirit of Christ … find your bliss and cling to it when your world gets heavy!


Aislynn Elise

This post is dedicated to my first daughter, Aislynn Elise. Thank you for sharing your bliss through your camera lens. Yours is a beautiful world, my love! 1604426_10202361479455804_327208029_n

Dying to Survive on Our Own

Sitting in my “writing chair”, beside our fireplace, I was developing my novel when a noise distracted me.

It’s common for a bird to hop around on the fireplace vent outside, but this time, the noise was more … persistent.

What the heck is that little fella doing? I asked myself, wondering what had gotten into my feathery visitor.

Moments later, the clambering grew louder and I could hear tiny objects landing in the alcove beside me.

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Is God Laughing at Us? Men, Women, and Communication …

P1040238 (3)The date is Friday, June 20, 2014.

Ed and I are travelling north on Highway 99. It’s 5:47 p.m. and we’re closing in on Mariposa, California, where my mother-in-law awaits our arrival.

The four hour-drive has offered plenty of time for Ed and I to catch up on conversations that we’ve been missing out on, thanks to the busyness of life.

Jimmy Buffet has joined the party, singing “Fins” on the radio. My husband turns up the volume and we bounce in our seats, joining in the chorus. FINS

“You got fins to the left, fins to the right, and you’re the only bait in town.”

My sandals are off and my feet dance across the dash of our 2012 Kia Optima. The music, combined with my bare toes, makes me feel like I’ve found my own tiny tropical island, right there in Ed’s car.

The only thing missing is an umbrella drink! umbrella drink 2

When the song ends, I’m feeling good. All of the stress that crawled into the car with us has flown out the window, so I decide to have a little fun.

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Today’s a New Day … Are Yesterday’s Bridges Still Burning?

10347617_10203026513321235_263608587142631923_nLess than a week ago, my 23-year old daughter attempted suicide for the second time in ten years, just days after swearing that she was turning her life around.

For a decade, my step-daughter, who I’ll call “Treasure”, has been on a path of self-destruction, teetering on life’s brink with various addictions and numerous rehab attempts.

Deceit had become the norm, as had escaping the world through alcohol and food. Despite a desire to do well, her instability led to a string of career terminations, relationship flops, and friendship fails.

For the sake of their own sanity, those who love her had to pull away and love her from a distance.

Last week, life lassoed her around the ankles again, dragging her down a familiar road laden with potholes of unemployment, fear, and loneliness.

A year-long relationship reached its breaking point, thanks in part to her boyfriend having his own addictions. Now, Treasure had no place to live.

For the first time in her life, my daughter faced homelessness. NOT BECAUSE SHE WAS UNLOVED – far from it. But, because those who had tried rescuing her in the past were scared to try again.

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I Spent the Weekend Intoxicated

It’s been a while since I’ve been intoxicated, but oh what a weekend I just had!

In recent weeks, I’d let myself get swept up in the cycle of commitments and responsibilities and had forgotten to take the time to slow down and soak in the enjoyment life!

1525397_10202440191023544_1318773862_nThis past weekend offered no respite from obligations, but I managed to weave a little, shall we say, natural high, into our driven schedule!

When I am under the influence, I tend to get a bit emotional. For the sanity of all who come in contact with me, I should wear a warning sign around my neck that reads:

“It’s not you. It’s me. I’m intoxicated right now.”

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Defending my Diaper (The Perils of Stubborn Pride)

Diaper“You look like you’re wearing a diaper,” Ed said.

“No, I don’t!” I defended.

 “Yes, you do.”

“These shorts are cute,” I explained.

 “They look like a diaper,” he continued.

 “Ed, they’re supposed to be loose. They’re designed to look relaxed,” I tutored.

“… and to look like a diaper,” he concluded.

Displeased with the direction in which our conversation was going, I distracted myself with whatever it was I was doing at the time, focusing on the task as though it was of critical importance.

But, in truth, I was looking out the corner of my eye, waiting for Ed to walk away so I could hustle into the bedroom and check out my butt’s reflection in the mirrored closet door.

A few seconds later, Ed returned to the garage.

When the coast was clear, I made my move, tripping over my own feet in the process.

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