MyLeslieNotebook

"Jesus traveled about from one town and village to another...[t]he Twelve were with him, and also some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases...[t]hese women were helping to support them out of their own means," (Luke 8:1-3). I love a group of women. Though one-on-one coffee chat is awesome, my heart is for a big group of ladies talking, eating, telling stories, and laughing so hard they just might pee on themselves. (And sometimes we do. No shame.) I love being around women who are real with themselves, real with each other, and real with their struggles and heartache and triumphs.  And I wish I had known those women from Luke 8. Can't you just see them? Making sure the men washed their clothes often enough to not stink too bad. Making sure Jesus had a decently balanced diet, because heaven knows the Twelve with him would have settled for whatever the equivalent of chips and pizza was back then. I bet they worked their tails off, and we know they use

Mount of the Holy Cross, 2015 The moment I first saw this view is forever etched in my memory. I was walking a beautiful trail, accompanied by some of my favorite people in the whole world, mentally preparing for the hike ahead.  Our only goal: get to the top of Mount of the Holy Cross. We had started hiking at daybreak and before we'd been walking an hour, we could see the peak. Yep, you guessed it: it's the giant one in the distance.  I'd done this type of hiking before. And though I had mentally prepared for the hours and hours of strenuous hiking, it hit me hard when I could see the peak, so far away : this is going to be worse than I thought .  [I've blogged about this very hike before; you can read it here .]  It's not that I didn't know what was coming; we had read the descriptions: twelve miles total, with major gains and losses in altitude both ways. We'd taken some training hikes back home, and we had plenty of water and food to last th

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 t