Seasons of the Heart


As the seasons change so does my heart.  I yearn for the warmth of summer. The waves crashing on rocks, the breeze swaying the palms trees and the sun shining across the water.  The coconut smell of suntan lotion and popcorn and cotton candy.  The cool sensation you get when you take a bite of an ice pop and let it melt in your mouth.  I marvel in the splendor of the fall when all the leaves turn colors like a kaleidascope in the horizon.  The patterns they leave on the grass as they fall to ground.  The cool crisp air and the rainy nights that lull me to sleep.  I anticipate the winter with its white coat enveloping the landscape.  Its mounds of snow and blistery mornings inviting children to make snowmen and adorn them with their scarves, hats and mittens.  The ice encased branches and leaves that cast a spell on the land making everything look like crystal.  The smells of pretzels and chestnuts on the carts by the road.  The sounds of Christmas carrols and holiday celebrations.  And then there’s the spring drowning the earth with its dewey mornings and sun showers.  Bringing forth the first signs of color in blooms and trees and bushes.  The smell of fresh cut grass and the scent of roses as they sway in the breeze.  The bunny’s adorning the gardens with the anticipation of Easter.  The colorful jellybeans and peepchicks so soft and sugary.  Oh how I love the seasons and the way my heart swells with anticipation for them to take their turn.

Lowering the Bar


I recently learned that The Tooth Fairy has been known to give children $10 for their discarded teeth.

I’ve attended children’s birthday parties that appear to cost more than my wedding. I’ve seen star charts created to award children for simply existing. Oh little Bobby is breathing so AMAZING today, isn’t he!!! Here’s $100.

This is insanity, people. Insanity. Why are some of you setting the bar this high?

When you act in this outrageous fashion it diminishes the sense of accomplishment I feel when I discover my child has a pair of clean underwear to wear.

I have no problem admitting that I routinely fail in my role as parent so perhaps I’m not the best to insist on some standard rules of engagement. But when little Timmy’s Easter haul is worth more than the GNP of Uzbekistan, I think we can all see that things have gotten out…

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An Open Letter to the Church from My Generation

It’s time for us all to open our ears and hearts!

"I Said I Don't Know."--and Other Answers to Hard Questions


I got to go to the Macklemore concert on Friday night. If you want to hear about how that went, ask me, seriously, I want to talk about it until I die. The whole thing was great; but the best part was when Macklemore sang “Same Love.” Augustana’s gym was filled to the ceiling with 5,000 people, mostly aged 18-25, and decked out in thrift store gear (American flag bro-tanks, neon Nikes, MC Hammer pants. My Cowboy boyfriend wore Cowboy boots…not ironically….). The arena was brimming with excitement and adrenaline during every song, but when he started to play “Same Love,” the place about collapsed. Why? While the song is popular everywhere, no one, maybe not even Macklemore, feels its true tension like we do in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. If you’re not familiar, here’s the song:

Stop–did you watch it? Watch it.

Before the song, Macklemore spoke really…

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If I Could Pause My Life Where Would I Go

My Happy Retreat


If I could pause my real life and travel anywhere I wanted to I would go to Italy.  I would find a nice family on a winery and help them in the fields.  I can feel the sun on my back as I bend to lift baskets full of grapes.  The smell of the ocean on the coast and the hustle and bustle of every day life.  As I hurry about my chores I am lulled by the sounds of the home, the music, the chatter of the children and the breeze on my face.  At night we celebrate the harvest with wine and dinner under the stars with friends and family.  The smell of the freshly made bread, the pasta and the taste of the wine not too sweet, not too dry.  This is as close to heaven as I have ever been.  The love and the beauty that surrounds…

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Do Angels Exist


Every morning I pray and I ask for a “rose” as a sign that my prayers have been heard and answered.  I just dropped off my daughter at college and returned to work.  I had a long, stressful and emotional day. When I arrived home I went on the internet and found this picture.  How befitting.  Not only did I get my “rose” but it was yellow, my daughter’s favorite color and she loves butterflies.  Does this symbolize an angel watching over my daughter? Does this answer my prayers?  I choose to believe that there is an angel watching over her and that my prayers for her saftey have been answered.  Dwell on the positive whether it be a miracle or a symbol.  For those are the little blessings that keep us going.</

If You Have Found Love

Finding My Way Home

Today my angels took me home.  Home to my parish.  I felt as if the sermon was being directed at me.  Why is it that when I was at my lowest I gave up on the one who gives me strength.  There is so much love and peace when you speak to the one who watches over you and believes in you and pushes you forward no matter how difficult it gets to maneuver the road ahead.  Yet I have let the ones who hurt me and struck me down over and over take power over me and lead me away from him.  I search my soul for the strength to keep fighting and look only onto my spiritual guide for the road that will lead me to everlasting love and tranquility.

My Journey Through Hell And Back

My hell began 18 years ago when I began to work for a small family owned business.  When I say “family” owned, I mean owned by people who were related but wanted nothing to do with each other.  A typical work day included not only the day to day business transactions but it also meant you had to deal with personal “family” arguments in the middle of the day or people throwing objects around whle in the midst of a tantrum.  Yes, these people were considered adults.  No one ever got a pat on the back for work well done, but the minute you made a mistake you wished you were dead.  For the next week or so you would be reminded what an unprofessional idiot you were.  Why I stayed, well I am a mother of 3 and I have always been good at resolving issues.  So I decided to make it my project to turn this “family” around and make them respect and honor each other.  Yeah, that really worked… not.  For while my advise was being accepted and all was well for the moment, my back was being stabbed by so many knives I don’t know how I walked out of there each day.  So, I decided to take a stand and demand respect and although they would not change their behaviour towards eachother I was not going to put up with it.  And now my hell is hotter and deeper than I ever thought possible.  I have been through, experienced and felt so much hurt, pain and anguish that I am numb to everyday life.  Why in a world with so much to offer, so many needy people and so many wars do we have to behave so horribly that we lose our respect for humanity, and have no morrals.  Hell is something I always feared as a child and someone once told me that life was truly purgatory.  I never believed them until now.  We have created our own hell and we feed it with all of our materialistic wants and needs.  We have lost touch with reality, people don’t matter, they are a means for us to get what we need.  How do we climb out of this deep dark abyss without losing it all……..



Angels Hear My Prayer

Once again, I call on my angels.  I need strength and guidance in my quest for a new treatment for my husband.  While my heart is open and my soul is hopeful I know I cannot do this alone.  It is only through prayer and spiritual guidance that I can find inner peace.  May the angels be showered with   petals of roses as they seek out a small miracle.

Searching for My “Self”

Searching for My "Self".