The Echo

I grew up spending most of my summers on the water; specifically on boats. We’d go out on trips, toss the anchor in, swim all day and sleep under the stars at night.

On one of those occasions, I remember waking up to a sound that was rather odd. It wasn’t overly loud, it wasn’t mechanical, it wasn’t was just different.

I laid still for a while listening to this sound, but finally rolled out of my bed to figure out exactly what I was hearing. When my eyes finally adjusted to the darkness outside I was shocked to discover we were in imminent danger.  The anchor had slipped during the night and we were only yards away from hitting the rocks.  The sound I had heard were the waves as they gently splashed against a large wall of rocks creating an echo off the stern of our vessel.

Sometimes you get that warning..

an echo of sorts pinging off impending trouble.

But you have to be still long enough in order to see and hear it.



Nothing grows under wraps.

Hurricane Andrew was approaching like a fast pitch; it’s path was straight and true. I had the TV on listening to Brian Norcross sound the alarm as I rushed around the house trying to secure what I could before evacuating with our three little kids. One of the last things I did was place our wedding album onto my son’s top bunk. I figured it would be safest up there-nice and high- in case of terrible flooding..

What I hadn’t predicted was that the wind would cause the roof to collapse-  right over top of his bedroom.

The album was a goner..

Isn’t it funny how we try to protect that which means the most to us in ways that sometimes prove to be the exact opposite of what we should do? Had I left my album in the family room closet it would have “survived” the event.

Oh well.

My daughter and her friends were down in Florida for Spring break last week and much to my chagrin, decided to spend a few days on South Beach. As a mother, I of course wasn’t wild about the idea and frankly wanted to protect them from every conceivable danger I feel is lurking down there.

(Hey, I used to watch Miami Vice…)


Just like with my special possessions, I wanted to tuck my daughter into a safe place (why not go to Disney?) and protect her from..well, everything.

But I didn’t,  they went.. and clearly had a great time.

The path to letting go is paved with trust and faith. I had to trust that my daughter would use common sense and take measures to protect herself and her friends. More importantly, I have to trust that God loves my kids even more than I do and that while it feels like I’m just releasing them into the wild, I’m actually giving them over to His care.

Our instinct as moms is to tuck our kids into safety blankets and protect them from life’s bumps and bruises, but in doing so we keep them from maturing and learning the lessons that will eventually mold them into the capable adults they are destined to be.

Letting go is the most difficult action we can take…

But we know that nothing good grows under wraps in the dark..

and that includes the shadow cast by a mother’s love and the embrace of her over-protective wings.







photocredit:Majestic Hotel South Beach,Show all posts – blogger



Blinded by the shine of your own star..


Our sermon this past Sunday was on the subject of humility and the timing could not have been better. I needed to be reminded of how dangerous pride can be and how authentic humility, interwoven with deep & profound gratitude, creates the foundation necessary for true happiness.

And yes, I couldn’t help but think of Brandon Dixon, the actor on stage last week, wagging his finger and delivering a sharp, condescending lecture to the future Vice President of the United States who was sitting in the audience quietly enjoying the show.

In an interview Mr. Dixon gave after his “big moment” he told “When we first got the call that he (Pence) was coming, there was certainly a question of what we would do,” Dixon said. “These are the opportunities that you die for.”


I promise this is not going to be an in depth analysis of how situationally unaware Mr. Dixon and his cast seem to be, but it is worth noting that the price of a ticket to see them perform is out of reach for 99.99% of the inhabitants on planet earth. I would think it would be prudent to consider that fact before carrying on about inclusivity and diversity..but whatever.

This actor’s action is just the latest example of the general lack of humility, civility and respect I see all too often these days. Whether it’s a student talking back to a teacher, pundits arguing on TV, athletes kneeling for the anthem, political candidates tearing into each other, protestors screaming in a policeman’s face or shouting down a speaker, there is a disturbing undercurrent of self-righteous, self-important, self indulgent, self centered pompous pride that is debasing much of our discourse.

This trend is crass and ugly and most importantly, blinds us to our own faults and frailties.. as Mr. Dixon himself is finding out. (Hey kids, You should all know this by now-the stuff you put on Facebook, Twitter and all the rest really can come back to haunt you.)

Pride is a tight fitting jacket,

kinda like the one Mr. Dixon is wearing in the photo above.

It can make you look all prim and proper,

and somehow better,



more fearless

and more powerful than everyone else.

But boy oh boy,

when that spot light zooms in,

it can also get hot, itchy and pretty darn uncomfortable.

So wear it with care..

only if you dare.