Just Around the Corner

I greeted a stranger on my jog this morning. She had been walking her dog, Samuel Louise.

Focusing on my speed rather than location, I had made a mistake and turned the wrong corner. The stranger was standing in her yard, simply staring up at the blue sky. When I got closer I could see she was heartbroken, crying, talking to God...yelling at God.

Her kitchen was a cheerful place with sun streaming through yellow checked curtains.  Samuel Louise rested quietly in his big green bed the size of an inner tube. The woman's face was exhausted, ravished with emotion. Her Bible and a devotional guide were laying on the table.  She served chocolate-hazelnut tea and homemade cinnamon bread with trembling hands while I waited to listen, to love. 

"I think I've made a mistake," she explained. "My marriage. And becoming a mother and my career. My whole life feels like one giant mistake. It's not like I didn't pray about my decisions. I did. I do. But God seems to have disappeared on the scene, you know? And I am mad at Him. He could have stopped me, you see.  He could have stopped me from making the mistakes. I asked Him for wisdom."

Isn't it easy when things are going badly to conclude you've made a mistake? You buy a car that has to have more work done on it than expected. You marry someone who doesn't keep the promise to become their best self. Your child is the worst kid in the class and has no friends. And on and on it goes. A mistake. But is it?

"I don't know what I did wrong," my neighbor said. "What did I do wrong? And where do I go from here if I can't trust God to answer my prayers?"

It is right to make prayerful decisions, to know the Word of God, to acknowledge Him so He will direct our paths. But, through no fault of your own, you can find yourself in a big fat pit of a mess. 

Jesus came to seek and save the lost. He spent a whole night in prayer before He chose His followers...and then He chose Judas. Things could not have turned out worse for him or for Jesus. Did Jesus make a mistake? No. Judas was a man and he was free to sin. But the end result was a change of epic proportion, the opportunity for Jesus to offer redemption.

Behind every door is a mystery. Behind every face is a story. Behind every mistake is an opportunity.  

Miss Mildred and the President

Photo by Courtney Chintermeyer
flickr.com

"I'm not smart enough to understand politics much," Miss Mildred commented, "But it's a right dandy thing we be havin' a black president for a time, sweet potata girl."

I picked up my tea cup and grinned.  "I'm not sure I'm smart enough to understand politics much either, but I sure would like for you to tell me what you know."

"My roots go all the way back to slave trade, sweet potata girl. I heard stories from my Granny that was told to her when she was a little snip of a girl. Slave days was awful dark times for the blacks.  Folks could come take your babies right outa your arms and sell 'em off.  Might never knowed what happen to 'em."  

As she sipped her tea, her dark eyes went far away in thought. She laughed suddenly, "Oh, sweet potato girl. I 'bout forgot what I was sayin', didn't I?  All people's gotta have rights and that's what politics is to me. Givin' folks they rights."  

I nodded in agreement, thinking it was a pretty good definition. "And you think having a black president for a time will help make that happen, Miss Mildred?"

"I do indeed, sweet potata girl.  It's gotta be a good thing to one day be a country where little black children get ripped from they granny's arms and another day a little black child grows up to be president!"

"I absolutely agree," I said. 

"And a country where not only that, but where instead of ripping away little children from they Granny, we give food stamps to help a granny get by.  Now I know people go different in how that oughta happen.  I've seen many a people who aren't glad I have food stamps and think I oughta not even have all these children to raise. But sometimes life is just how it is and you gotta do the best you can with what God gives you for your portion. But having a black president for a time is a hopeful thing whether you agree with him or not. It says we're a country that's a gonna keep tryin' til we get ever'thing figured out. We set to changin' bad ways as best we know. And that's an awful good thing, ain't it?"

"It's a wonderful thing.  And I like him. A lot. And I really respect him and his family."

"Me too, sweet potata girl. Me too." And the wise old woman took a bite of her cookie, toasted me with it and whispered, "And he's kindy cute, ain't he?" 

Sweet Potata Girl

Photo by Wally Hartshorn
flickr.com

"My roots go back all the way to slave trade," she said softly. "I don't be knowin' all 'bout what that was like, but I knowed 'bout hard times in my days. I learned 'bout makin' it through 'gainst all odds."

Swollen crippled feet had propelled her through the market. Her arthritic hands dropped a 2 page shopping list as she struggled to move a box of produce.

I picked her list up from the floor and moved the box.  "Could I fill your list for you? I'd be glad to do that," I offered.

"Oh, my, no, sweet potata girl," she laughed. "The good Lord gave me 8 kids and more grandkids than I can be countin' any more so I guess He'll just keep me spinnin' on forward. It's a long line of hungry folks I need to be feedin' and you got your own work. God will get me through."

She was collapsed with exhaustion on a bench, her cart piled high with food bags when I left the store. Rubbing stiffness from her hands, eyes closed, her silent tears trailed down wrinkled brown cheeks.

"I care about you," I told her, sitting down on the bench beside her. I handed her a handkerchief.

"Oh my, sweet potata girl! That's a lovely old hanky! Now I'm just fine. I'm too tuckered out today is all."

As she wiped her eyes she shared her life. Divorces, custody battles, drug addictions, prison heartbreak and little children with no place to go but to their old broken-down granny. She told me how grateful she was for a country that helped with food stamps, prisons that helped folks get straight, teachers that hugged learnin' right into kids and for all the blessings found in loving people.

I helped her into my car, loaded the piles of groceries into my back seat and phoned her neighbor who had not yet shown up to give her a ride home.

"Why do you call me sweet potata girl?" I asked, once she was settled into her house.  She rested at the table taking some medicine while I put away the groceries in her kitchen and created an impromptu tea party.

"Been a lot of times with nothin' to eat but a sweet potata. It was a blessin' from the Lord on them days. You can live a right long spell on a sweet potata.  Lotta people don't see the blessin' in hard times. I learned from my own granny that hard times is blessin' just like good times. You been a blessin' to me, sweet potata girl. I was plumb done in and set to frettin', but God sends help ever' time to me. Ever' time. Ever' time. Ever' time. Ever' time. Now you be rememberin' that from an old woman, sweet potata girl. Ever' time."

Pumpkin Latte

2 cups of milk - I use 2% milk, but choose whatever you like, even soy or almond milk.
3-4 Tablespoons canned pumpkin - Choose more or less to adjust flavor.
2 teaspoons vanilla - You may also want to add other flavorings such as almond or maple.
1-2 teaspoons of pumpkin pie spice

Heat in a pan and serve as a hot drink.

Add to coffee at whatever ratio you prefer.  I like mine with a lot of coffee and a few splashes of latte. Others like it mostly latte with a few splashes of coffee.

Whipped Cream on top is optional, but looks quite charming sprinkled with pumpkin pie spice. Children especially enjoy stirring with a cinnamon stick or melting chocolate sprinkles on top.

Refrigerate and drink cold or reheat for a breakfast treat next morning.

Nathanael's favorite way to drink this is with "a big ol' pumpkin chocolate chip muffin". I like it with my morning toast covered with pumpkin butter.

Tucked into Sylvie's Jacket

Holly stretched weary muscles. Cold rain continued to stream down the window pane and she shivered with dread. Over a sigh born of exhaustion she picked up the laundry basket, walked through the cluttered living room and into the messy kitchen. Dishes were piled in the sink from breakfast. Counter tops were littered with various stacks of papers, toys and books. Spilled Cheerios crunched under her feet as she sat down the laundry and folded into a chair.

"I don't even know where to start," she whispered. "Every day begins this same way."

"Mama, can we have a tea party? I'm hungry," four year old Sylvie asked, crawling onto her mother's lap.

"Sure, honey," Holly softly answered.

"With real tea and cups and cookies and stuff?" begged Sylvie.

A tear slipped down Holly's cheeks as she snuggled the little girl closer to her. "With real tea and cups and cookies and stuff, Sylvie. I think we deserve a tea party. Shall we clean up the kitchen first and start the laundry?"

Sylvie nodded eagerly and hopped down, eager to help complete the morning chores. Little helping hands picked up one end of the laundry basket, efficiently dumping the clothes into the spilled Cheerios. "Oopsie!" she giggled.

Holly smiled and took a deep cleansing breath, knowing there is always a treasure to be found tucked into the corner of each extraordinary ordinary day. Some days you just have to search for it.

The work of a home is love made visible. Tuck a happy childhood into your little ones' jacket.

A Story for Lindsey

Lindsey and Renee stopped by this morning for tea. Snuggled in antique quilts by the fire place, we warmed our hands around big mugs decorated with snowmen. We warmed our hearts talking about praying to the God who answers us.

"Will you tell us prayer stories?" Lindsey asked as she snuggled deeper into her quilt with a contented sigh. "I love that our God is an action God and prayer stories motivate me to pray more."

She's right, isn't she? Hearing that God is answering prayers hones our faith, stirs our emotions and prods us to pray more fervently. Our shared prayer stories remind us that God protects, provides and plans for His people.

After we shared stories, I encouraged them to collect stories of answered prayers from their own prayer adventures. It's easy to get sidetracked and even disheartened by someone else's life. It's so tempting to wonder if anything spectacular could ever happen to plain old us.

Jesus lived the ultimate true life adventure. What a lot of stories we know about His answered prayers! But, have you ever pondered those hours Jesus spent alone in prayer with Father? Those would have been the most amazing answered prayer stories of all! I hope Jesus shares those stories some day, but He may not. Some stories belong only to the Father and the child.

The God who answered prayers in the true life adventures of Moses, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is still answering prayers. The God who captivates our attention with the answered prayer adventures of Hannah, Phoebe, Anna and Tabitha is still writing stories.

But, the best prayer story you will ever hear is the one you and God write together as you live your own true life adventure filled with answered prayers. What's happening in your story today?

Cinnamon Rolls

In Bread Machine:

3/4 c plus 2 Tablespoons hot water
2 Tablespoons soft butter
2 1/2 cup bread flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons bread machine yeast

Run Bread Machine on dough setting.

Remove dough from bread machine. Roll into a rectangle about 1/4 inch thick. Spread with butter, cinnamon and sugar. Roll into a long roll and cut into rounds. Place in a 9 X 13 pan that has been sprayed with cooking spray.

Let rise until doubled in size. I do this in a warm oven that has been turned off. It takes about an hour.

Bake at 350 degrees. Length of baking time is determined by number of rolls. A breakfast may call for 9 large rolls and will take about 15-20 minutes to bake. When served with other sweets, I usually make 18 smaller rolls.

Filling: 1/3 c sugar
2 teaspoons cinnamon

Vanilla Glaze: 1 cup powdered sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1-2 Tablespoons of milk

Gingerbread

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
2 1/4 teaspoons ginger
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon orange extract, optional
1 cup applesauce
1 teaspoon baking soda

FROSTING
1 (8 oz.) pkg. cream cheese, softened
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon orange extract
2 1/2 cups confectioner’s sugar

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour a 9 inch square pan.

In a medium bowl, mix together flour, cinnamon, cloves, ginger, and salt.
Then set aside.

In a large bowl, cream butter and sugar until fluffy. Stir in orange extract.

Mix baking soda into applesauce and stir into creamed butter mixture.
Add flour mixture. Mix until smooth.

Pour batter into prepared loaf pan.

Bake at 350 degrees F for 40 to 50 minutes or until a
toothpick inserted into center of cake comes out clean.

FROSTING:
Beat cream cheese until fluffy. Beat in vanilla and orange extract. Slowly beat in confectioner’s sugar.

Once the cake has cooled, evenly spread the frosting on top. Decorate with chopped candied orange peel or candied ginger .

Scone Recipe

2 cups all-purpose flour
1/3 cup plus 1 tsp. sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
8 Tbs. (1 stick) unsalted butter, frozen
1/2 cup raisins (or dried currants)
1/2 cup sour cream
1 large egg

Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and preheat oven to 400 degrees.
In a medium bowl, mix flour, 1/3 cup sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Grate butter into flour mixture on the large holes of a box grater; use your fingers to work in butter (mixture should resemble coarse meal), then stir in raisins.

In a small bowl, whisk sour cream and egg until smooth.

Using a fork, stir sour cream mixture into flour mixture until large dough clumps form. Use your hands to press the dough against the bowl into a ball. (The dough will be sticky in places, and there may not seem to be enough liquid at first, but as you press, the dough will come together.)

Place on a lightly floured surface and pat into a 7- to 8-inch circle about 3/4-inch thick. Sprinkle with remaining 1 tsp. of sugar. Use a sharp knife to cut into 8 triangles; place on a cookie sheet (preferably lined with parchment paper), about 1 inch apart. Bake until golden, about 15 to 17 minutes. Cool for 5 minutes and serve warm or at room temperature.

Yield: 8 scones.
Per scone: 317 calories, 5g protein, 41g carbohydrates, 15g fat (9g saturated), 1g fiber, 263mg sodium.

*Usually I cut these into smaller scones. When adding spices, flavorings and/or orange or lemon peel I mix it in with the sour cream mixture. When adding nuts, fruit, etc I add them instead of raisins. Fats and calories can be reduced by using a lighter choice than butter.

Tea with Carson

As I wiped syrup from his pancaked-stuffed mouth, Carson grinned, giggled and went airborne. Summoning the agility of an athlete I caught him mid-leap, grimacing as little hands oozed church breakfast goo into my hair.

Once he was spit and polished I encouraged him toward his parents, picked up my cup of tea, and decided I should discover just how bad a hair day I was having that Sunday morning, but his little hand took mine and squeezed it. "Can I sit with you? Because we like that don't we?"

I agreed that he could and as we took our seats he continued, "You sit here and drink your tea and I'll sit here and drink your tea, too."

Our tea sharing began when he was so small he needed more milk than tea in his cup. He's four now and every cup of tea is a lesson in knowing his heart. Time to visit over a cup of tea is important because it warms our relationship the way tea warms the heart.

Opportunities to talk with children have to be created. God sends us into the lives of children to teach them He is real, to let them know He loves them, to guide them to truth.

Be the hands and feet of Jesus in the life of a child. By holding hands with you, he learns the calming tenderness of trusting in someone bigger and stronger. By following you he sees the determined confidence in someone who knows more and sees beyond the moment.

Taking Time for Tea

Most people don't seem to find buried treasure at Starbucks, but today as I sat in the sunshine under a table umbrella with two of my kindred spirits, Carol and Lynn, I found treasure.

We don't settle for simply wanting to get together for tea or suggesting we get together for tea; we actually make it happen. It's not all that easy to juggle our schedules and find a time, but we choose to do it. It's important. It makes us better women, more contented women, more effective women.

Laughter alternates with tears and tales of good times blend with stories of tough times. We share it all because shared lives are richer lives. We give each other different perspectives and creative thoughts about what it all means. And we take time to just sit and enjoy one another.

My friends are excellent company and that's a treasure more precious than gold.

The world moves too fast. We're all too busy. But it's just not okay when we become too busy for taking time for tea with friends.

A Tea Party for Callie

Callie has lived a hard life. Smoking and poor nutrition have stolen her teeth. Meth has stolen her beauty. Cruel abuse ravaged her body and left her soul empty. Sin and hopelessness left her with shame beyond measure, a prisoner of sin before she was ever arrested and sent to prison.

And then Jesus came to the prison and set the captive free. She has been redeemed. Jesus paid the ultimate sacrifice for Callie. She adores Him with incredible depth of passion. She sings to Him with fullness of joy. She talks about Him with confidence and radical faith.

Not only has Callie never been to a tea party, but she has never eaten a homecooked meal. Not only has she never been tucked into bed at night but she's never had a home where there was a bed.

"Prison has given me everything, Karen," she told me last night. "I'm safe and I have a bed and food and friends. Most of all I met Jesus here. I was never free until I got locked up! And when I get out of here someday, you and me and Jesus, we're gonna have us a big old tea party!"

Then he said to them, "Whoever welcomes this little child in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. For he who is least among you all—he is the greatest." ~Luke 9:48

Callie makes that verse come to life for me. Most people would look at her as the least among us, but she is one of the riches women I know.

Good Morning

Some of you are reading this blog from your home computer in Vietnam or Israel. Maybe you are sitting beneath a shade tree in the middle of a university campus in Canada. Some of you are reading this on a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean while others of you are right here in Missouri, USA, with me listening to the music of a rainstorm. What is happening in Europe now where so many of you live? What is on your mind as you sit in China and read this blog? What will you be doing today, beloved friend, living in Argentina?

I pray for you, my readers, every day. You are becoming more and more dear to me as we daily meet online for a visit over tea. I am in awe of the power we have at our fingertips to share our hearts and words and lives. I pray for you to be strong and faithful, to be encouraged, to be the lights of Jesus in dark places. How I would love to sit down with you over a cup of tea and a plate of scones and listen to your story!

How do we learn to truly love one another deeply from our hearts? My favorite way to learn about people is to ask them to tell their story. Would you tell me your story? What draws you here day after day?

Know that I sit at my table every morning and pray for you. You're not alone. You matter very much to me and you are loved....*smile....Good morning. How are you today?

Got Tea?

Pretty china. Cloth napkins. Fresh flowers. Lilac Candle. Raspberry scones. Cinnamon rolls. Vegetable soup. Homemade quiche. Soft music.

I went the extra mile to treat a couple of my favorite students who came to brunch this week. We laughed and shared deeply from our hearts in the summer breeze, visiting over the lace tablecloth, feeling special just being together.

I have tea parties so frequently that it takes little effort because I'm always planning ahead so I can be spontaneous. The organization makes it easy to go the extra mile when I want to and also makes it easy to have a tea party on the spur of the moment. I love tea parties.

I've had tea parties in each of the 4 hospitals in Columbia, in most of the nursing homes and parks, at the mall, in parking lots, in schools and in homes. I've had tea parties dressed up fancy, dressed up silly, dressed in sweaty dirt and dressed in jammies. I have had tea parties with neighbors, friends, relatives and strangers. There have been tea parties with men, women, boys and girls, and once I had tea with a strange ugly dog who just seemed to need to relax with me and drink some tea. I have always wondered if it was an angel unaware, but who knows!

The thing I like most about tea parties is that no matter what the set-up, it's fun, refreshing, fulfilling, a blessing. People open up and smile and share what is in their hearts. Even people who don't like tea enjoy a tea party. I'm sure when the angels visited Abraham and told him a son would be born, Sarah Abraham served them tea. Would you like goat cream in your tea? One drop of honey or two?

Got tea? Have a tea party.

A Teacup Full of Gentleness

Gentleness is not so impressive to people as it was in past generations. People are sidetracked from gentleness by hectic schedules, fast paced entertainment and lifestyles that call "Hamburger Helper" a home-cooked meal and 6 hours of sleep a good night’s rest. Being in an atmosphere of intensity, continual ambition and hurry leaves us feeling overwhelmed, depleted, bone weary. Much is missed when we neglect the fruit of gentleness in our lives!

Gentleness takes time. It requires stepping back and taking the time to seek peace, to be intimate with God, to pause from continual action. Children crave gentleness. They seek quiet times to refresh and think. They create mild moments and are quite willing to interrupt their day for gentle words, gentle touches and gentle thoughts. I learned this the year that Kaelyn was 4 years old. We were planting a gladiola garden which later, forgetting the flower name, she would call her "Happy Garden".

Karen: What’s wrong, Peanut? Are you done helping me make the garden?
Kaelyn: Yes. I’m dirty. I require tea. Let’s dip graham crackers in our tea.
Karen: Do you need some books and a nap?

Kaelyn: Oh no. I just need tea. In the pretty cups. With the golden spoons.
Karen: Anything else?

Kaelyn: I really think not.

To have the strong, healthy, sweet fruit of gentleness, we must take time to cultivate it. We must give the Spirit time and opportunity to produce it. We get tired, dirty, wrapped up in our busy lives and so quickly forget the gentleness of our Shepherd Savior. I have learned to take that step back and enjoy the God who is there and who is not silent. A glowing candle, a cup of tea, a mild moment to be still and know God, to be reminded of His words and His ways.

Sometimes it’s not so much that life is hard as that I just need some gentle moments added into my life. Sometimes I just require tea.

Kaelyn and Joya Come to Tea

The year that Kaelyn was six and Joya was four, most visits to my house required a tea party. One day, we decided to write poetry after we had finished our tea party. (apple juice and cinnamon Mini-Wheat cereal that particular day...served, of course on china with cloth napkins. It's all about being fancy, don't you know?)

Kaelyn EmmaLaughing
Bubbling
Sparkling
Talking
She’s the dancing princess of drama.
Princess Wildflower in her own fairyland.
Kaelyn Emma

Joya CorrineCreative
Independent
Delightful
Thoughtful
She’s the princess of imagination.
Spectacular Miss Fancy in her own parade.
Joya Corrine

Teaching children to enjoy reading and writing poetry rounds out their imagination and triggers a delight in vocabulary and expression. The writing of poetry can progress in very simple ways. I asked them to write a poem describing themselves first in 4 different words then in two different sentences. The beginning and ending is, of course, their names. We discussed word pictures and experimented with the sounds of many words and discussed a variety of examples, but the poetry is their own and it's quite wonderful and fits them well. It's a format that even 3 and 4 year olds can do with a little bit of help. Give it a try! It will add some razzle dazzle to your family night this week whether you are 8 or 18 or 80!

The Making of a Woman

The counter in my kitchen is never so beautiful to me as it is when it's a big mess. It looks lovely with an antique cloth and a cheery vase of flowers. And I do enjoy Monday morning Windex shine to celebrate my cleaning day. But today it was at peak beauty because I taught Kaelyn to make her first scones. I love the mess involved in teaching a little woman to cook.

Dots of butter smears, splashes of sour cream, carelessly tossed measuring spoons and cups, wayward blueberries smooshed about and whatever a writer should call "flour mixed with cooking spray and sugar muck", my counter never shined so brightly.

During Kaelyn's eight years of growing up she has tasted nearly every type of scone I have ever made. We have had countless tea parties, both real and pretend, fancy and common. We have served at our tea parties everything from the pink frosted Mini-Wheats that I convinced her were tea cookies when she was little to the most fancy of my sandwiches and scones. We have had china and lace tea parties in grown up settings and we have had paper cups and grubby tea parties while covered with garden dirt.

As she finished cutting the triangles (I get to use THIS big knife? Whoa!) she grinned up at me and said, "I made scones."

Kaelyn may forget who taught her to make scones. None of us understand why some memories of our childhood remain and others are forgotten. What really matters to me is that Kaelyn learned just a little bit more about trying something that looks hard to do. She became a little bit better at homemaking skills and going the extra mile to bless others with something she made. She learned all the valuable lessons that she soaks up just by being loved and loving me in return.

As she grows older, God will be teaching Kaelyn lessons, too. She may not remember just how it was she learned the big lessons, or even always remember it was God who taught her. He's pretty good at wiping away the messes left behind. What really matters to Him is that she becomes a stronger person, a better person.

He will smile and say, "I made a woman."

As Kaelyn danced off to play with Nathanael and I washed the dishes while waiting for the scones to bake, I found tears running down my cheeks. Not because of the mess required in the making of a scone, but because of the precious mess required in the making of a woman.

Punky Brewster Comes to Tea

Come along inside.We'll see if tea and buns can make the world a better place.
~The Wind in the Willow~


Her single-working-two-jobs dad calls her Missy because, as she tells it, "he doesn't have time to remember my name". I'm thinking it might be because she hates being called Melissa and his choices seem limited. She asked me what I was going to call her since it better not be Melissa and I volunteered, "Hepsebobbical Windowshade Delicatessen Frog Nose". She rolled her eyes at me, laughed and agreed. Mostly I call her Froggie or Deli for short.

We met when I began taking walks around my new neighborhood several weeks ago. Since then she often just happens to be available when I walk by her house. Most of the time while she's "living on her own independently" this summer, she is rereading Harry Potter, writing in the journal I made her or learning to be a "house maiden like Cinderella".

On the outside, she looks like a 10 year old punk...piercings, bleached hair, sloppy clothes and black nail polish, words about death and gloom and darkness. She told me not to let that scare me. (Are you kidding me? I've been in Campus Ministry for 30 years!) On the inside she's all about pink and princesses and hearts and flowers...secretly, on the inside, she's all about life.

This morning she came to visit. Guarding her enthusiasm, and thus her heart, she talked of unimportant things while drinking tea from a china cup, eating cookies from a heart shaped plate and pouring tea from "a real live teapot".

What causes us to learn so young that we can not allow others to see us as we really are? Behind every mask is a story to be shared, not to be guarded. Guard your heart, but share who you really are with people.

I don't know if I'm making much of a difference in Froggie's life yet, but she's making a big difference in mine. As she was leaving she laughed self-consciously and said, "I've never been to a real tea party before. It was really fun. Did I do it right?" I assured her that since she had a good time, that, yes, she had done it just right. "Can we do it again someday?" Oh, indeed yes.

When it comes to tea parties, maybe we're all still little girls behind our masks.


"Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life."
Proverbs 4:23