MyLeslieNotebook

What life feels like for many right now: dry, unknown, unfriendly About this time last year, I started  Jen Wilkin's book None Like Him ; it was faith-changing, and should be on everyone's reading list. When my amazing mother-in-law handed me a copy of the sequel, In His Image , I couldn't wait to dive in. [Currently I'm about halfway through, and it's better than I expected.] The question posed in the introduction of her second book is one we've all asked: "What is God's will for my life?" It's a valid question; however, it's not the best question to ask. Instead, she proposes we should start asking a better question: Who should I be? "  I feel a similar parallel in my own life right now: I keep getting pulled to the same same What if? questions: What if I get COVID-19? What if my husband/children/parents/friends/loved ones contract the virus? What if our hospitals become overwhelmed? What if grocery stores run out...fo...

My last post started with these words:  "There are two types of people in the world..."  The post dealt with list-makers, but there are so many other "two types of people in the world" categories. It's one of my favorite conversation starters, and it's a fun way to really know somebody. You see, the "two types of people in the world" categories are not items in a scale-of-one-to-ten score; they are either/or. You can't be in-between or sometimes one and sometimes the other. For example:  Coffee-drinkers and non Readers and non Stranger Things fans and non Doodlers and non Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream fans and non Those of the "Princess Bride is the best movie ever" opinion and those who are wrong These items are polarizing; I bet you said for each one "Yep; I am hard-core X but not the other." That's the power of the "two types of people in the world" list. A few years ago, I would have put ...

There are two types of people in the world: those who make lists and those who are annoyed by list makers. (I am the former; I married the latter.) I always have a grocery list going. Hanging on my fridge is a list of my commonly-repeated meals. Each morning I make a list for my list-making daughter, who wants to see the list of things she needs to do. (My son, a chip off the block of my husband, cringes at the sight of a list.) My daily planner has a list most days, and I always have a list going in my prayer journal: names of God, prayers, scriptures by topic, etc. In this time of uncertainty and unknown, my list-making needs have dramatically changed. Our days are slower and the need to prioritize tasks has almost stopped. If I were to make a to-do list today, it would include things like, "Fix dinner; exercise; play Settlers of Catan."  But today I considered that these uncertain times have inspired me to make a few new lists. (Any scientists out there need to stu...

Mourning parasol, 1895-1900 . Photo copyright the Metropolitan Museum of Art In honor of the death of President Bush 41 last week, a day of mourning was declared to coincide with the day of his funeral. Federal offices were closed, the stock market took a day off, and the mail wasn't delivered.   And though I never met President Bush 41 nor was I old enough to understand anything about politics or government when he served, I cherished the half-mast flags and the lack of mail.  I love mourning .  That seems like a weird thing to say, especially considering we're ten days from Christmas, the "most wonderful time of the year," right? Maybe. But mourning is healthy. Mourning is cleansing and cathartic. Mourning is an outward expression of an inward hurt. Mourning is part of healing. I remember when my grandmother died: on the morning of her funeral, I woke up and looked out the window to a beautiful sunny day. And it made me mad; I wanted even the weather ...

When we were in middle school, a friend of my mom's asked me and my sister to rake leaves for her. She told us she'd pay us $10 each, if I remember correctly. For a girl who made $4 an hour babysitting those days, this seemed like a deal. Never mind the fact that we'd never really raked anything before other than a pile for jumping... So we started raking. And raking. After an hour, we realized we really stunk at it. Seriously. We raked until sundown, and went home with swollen, red, calloused hands, knowing the next day we still had many, many hours of raking left. Either the job was worth more than $20 or we were just painstakingly bad and slow. (Looking back, I'd say it was us.) The next day my parents drove us over to the woman's house to finish, when lo and behold we saw that the raking was done! Hallelujah! "Who did this?" we screamed in delight. Mom winked at dad and said, "Your dad came over this morning and finished in about 30 minutes....

My sweet seven-year-old, Shelby, is the official decorator in our house. [She's actually the only decorator. She loves all things beautiful and fancy and season-attentive. I appreciate it but don't put in the time. My husband and son may not even notice if we put a tree in the middle of the tub.] And though she set up her own pink Christmas tree in September (not kidding), I told her she needed to wait until the week of Thanksgiving to set up the nativity. She gathered everything from her closet (yes, that's where it's stored; I told you she was our decorator) and started setting it up in our living room.  After some minutes, she solemnly came up to me and softly confided, "Mom, I can't find baby Jesus. And you know  we can't have a nativity without Him." I loved her sweet heart and her childlike understanding of the manger scene. And as I sent her to her room to look a little more, I pondered the depth of her statement: Can I tell you right no...

Yep, those are my kids. This reveals them perfectly. I love my kids. They make me laugh, they teach me, they inspire me, and they give me hope not only for the world but for my family. My left-brain son analyzes everything, tries to be efficient in all he does, and at this moment has a room disgustingly littered with pieces of robots and light sabers. My right-brained daughter does all she can to add beauty and color to everything; I'm constantly finding art projects and journal entries scattered everywhere.  Just like I did in  my last post , I'm trying to make it very clear that I love my kids and love being a mom because what I'm about to write might sound like the opposite. I really do love being a mom...today. This moment. But that's not always the case; it hasn't always been the case. I struggled with motherhood for years and, though I loved my children, I didn't love all that came with being a mom . And, quite honestly, I struggled to find women w...