Category Archives: time well spent

The Legacy I Live and Leave Matters



“Today I shall behave as if this is the day I will be remembered.” Dr. Seuss

In the wake of his dad’s death in April, my husband John reminded me a legacy can just as easily be negative as positive. He said, “I’m my dad. I’m overweight, I have a bad attitude, and I blame others and feel sorry for myself when things don’t go my way.”

He was being especially hard on himself and his dad that evening. However, what he was experiencing and expressing is exactly what happens when we face death. After our goodbyes and burying the people we love, we’re left with whatever they left us – an inheritance or debt; the work of cleaning out their stuff; what they willed us or didn’t will us; what they gave to others that we didn’t get; what we got that someone else thinks they should have; the pain of family turning against one another; the fear we’ll turn too.

Mostly, we’re left with their legacy – the one we inherit even if they didn’t leave us money or goods.


I thought about Dad’s legacy this past Sunday, August 13th on the twelfth anniversary of his death. Dad and I were estranged the final three years of his life. If I’d had a Fitbit back then, I would have exceeded every step goal walking back and forth to my upstairs bathroom window that overlooked our driveway, looking for his truck to pull in one more time.

I recognize now that Dad loved hard, took things hard when he was hurt by people, and acted hard towards them afterwards. I understand more about his response when I wished him a happy 70th birthday and he said, “I hope the next 70 are better.” I figured out some about why driving eight blocks to my house was too difficult for him and why him saying “I’m sorry” seemed impossible.

In light of his legacy and the one left by John’s dad too, I’ve pondered a question I heard at a women’s conference. The speaker talked about working with survivors of sexual abuse. I wrote about it here, “Whose Legacy Are You Living?” She said it helped to ask the women something like, “Whose legacy are you living, your abuser’s or yours?”

I was pretty sure I could answer for John and me. We’re living the legacies of our fathers.

Dad struggled with family relationships and with having friends. He struggled with self-esteem and self-doubt. He struggled to get over being hurt and sad.

Dad also painted, made pottery, and wrote love letters to us. One he wrote to me a couple of months after I was born is taped in my baby book. He played board games with me when I begged. He collected oriental figurines, he added to my doll collection, and he accumulated unusual postage stamps. Dad oversaw building a house for his mom, remodeled the house we lived in, and talked about buying and fixing up a beach house.

He bought a motel and opened an ice cream parlor after he returned from Vietnam that marked his retirement from the Air Force. He walked, rode his bike, and jumped rope in our backyard. A couple of times a week, he’d put on boots with metal hooks on the toes and, to improve his blood flow, he’d hang upside down from a bar he mounted between two trees. I’d watch him from the kitchen window. Dad read the Bible cover-to-cover at least twice. He crafted lanterns and planters to give away and built a toy box for each of his four grandchildren.



I didn’t have to go on and on here, listing every memory of Dad that’s good and fun and quirky, but I wanted to. It reminds me how much our daily choices matter, just like my friend told her dad when he was dying alone and lonely. On his deathbed, he asked her, “How’d I get here?”

“Thousands of bad choices, Dad,” she said. It was all she could think to tell him. Their conversation haunts me, but hopefully it saved him like the thief who hung by Jesus on the cross. In the last minutes, his legacy changed.

So, here’s the thing about a legacy – we leave one, good or bad, whether we intend to or not. There are qualities from both of our dads we hope to keep alive, and ones we don’t.

Here’s another thing about legacy – it matters. John and I gave voice to this when we recognized how much our dads’ legacies shaped us, even our body shape, our weight.

The final thing about legacy – we decide.

Each one of us has been influenced by someone, but we’re not destined to live how they lived. We decide whose legacy we’re living – a parent, an abuser, a mentor. We decide whether we’ll live out their difficult ways or their productive and creative ones. We decide if we want to ditch everything they modeled and live differently. We decide whether to be sloppy about our own legacies or intentional.

I knew I’d inherited my dad’s creative spirit even though I hadn’t given him credit for my painting and writing until just now. He definitely passed on his appreciation for homes and remodeling them. I’ve enjoyed collecting things most of my life like artwork and shoes (a justifiable collection, I think). I started walking daily when I was pregnant with our son and kept it up for nearly three decades. It never crossed my mind until writing this, though, that I’d taken on Dad’s melancholy mood.

Legacy. We leave one. It matters. We decide on our own.

Whose legacy are you living? Is it one you want to keep going?

#gettingyourownlife #whilelovingthepeopleinit

In This Together,


One Foot On a Banana Peel, the Other at Kentucky Fried Chicken (a post about answering our calling at the age we are)


“The days you work are the best days.” Georgia O’Keeffe

Four blog posts ago, I wrote “Choose Well” about sitting still so as not to miss the magic. This week’s post is about working, and for the same reason … so we don’t miss the magic.

A phone conversation gave me the idea for this post when a friend almost half my age said, “I’m afraid I’m going to be in my 40s, look back, and realize I haven’t accomplished my goals.”

I wanted to interrupt, but I didn’t, and say, “And your problem is? You’re not even mid-thirties.”

They finished, “I’ll end up feeling like a failure.”


Before I gave into lecturing about accomplishments and age and having time on their side, my thoughts jumped to fried chicken. You know, the fowl that was fried up by Harland Sanders, the colonel of chicken and founder of Kentucky Fried Chicken at age 62 (after he retired and drew his first social security check). He may have something to say about purposely planning not to work and being without purpose at any age.

I wanted to lecture because, like my friend on the phone, I’m afraid of getting too old to accomplish what I want. If I’d started on my spiel, I would have been talking to myself. I’m happy Colonel Sanders stopped me, and even happier he’s a reminder we’re never too old to dream and live it. We’re never too old for magic. 

In the meantime and because I’ve been back and forth on this topic for several years, I met with my financial advisor to review our retirement plan and several options for moving forward with retirement faster. Even though friends who recently retired from teaching said they’d absolutely find something to do besides sit around, I figured my husband and I needed a plan in place for full retirement. I secretly held onto the idea of wanting a lot of time off until I wrote last week’s blog post, “Called to What?,” about finding work we love and working it to the end. We can’t be irresponsible about getting older, but it’ll undoubtedly make our “retirement” plan easier to save for if we don’t plan to retire.



All that said … 

We’re rethinking everything. We want one week off a month for the rest of our lives, and, once in a while, two so we can travel. We want something to do, and we want to love it daily. We want purpose. We want to spend time with kids and grandkids, but not end up poster parents for codependency. We want to tap into creativity and maybe tap dance. Wait, I meant line dance. We want to continue most of what we’re doing now. I want to write. John wants to work on our houses.

A friend’s comment on last week’s blog post confirmed what we’d already envisioned for our lives (minus having a baby), but we started changing it up the more often clerks gave us senior discounts and the more often we thought about retirement looming. Sybil wrote, “The Bible does not use the word retire. Moses was 80 going strong. Sarah was 100, giving birth. Watch out world, there is a generation of great people wanting to fill their passions.”

Her comment reminded me of one of the quotes I shared last week. It’s by Howard Thurman, “Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

The world needs us to come alive before we retire and die. Once we’ve come alive, there’ll be no time to retire. 

Writer Richard Feloni put together an article about “People Who Became Successful After Age 40.” I thought it’d be fun and inspiring to share some of the personalities he wrote about.

Fun & Inspiring 

Jack Weil founded a popular cowboy brand, Rockmount Ranch Wear, and stayed its CEO until he died at age 107.

Rodney Dangerfield’s break as a comedian didn’t happen until he appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show at age 46.

Julia Child wrote her first cookbook that launched her career as a celebrity chef when she was 50.

Ray Kroc was a milkshake device salesman before buying McDonald’s at age 52 and making it into the world’s biggest fast-food franchise.


Vera Wang didn’t get started as a designer until she was 40. Gary Heavin was the same age when he opened the first Curves fitness center. Henry Ford was 45 when he created the Model T. My two favorites on the list are Laura Ingalls Wilder who published the first of her Little House books at age 65 and Grandma Moses who started her painting career at 78. Who is your favorite?

#GettingYourOwnLife can happen at any age, and it doesn’t have to be a fancy career like Vera Wang’s or a moneymaker like McDonald’s. It just needs to be work that gives us purpose. We can’t afford to get tired and retire before we figure it out, before we find our magic.

Where are you headed besides retirement?

In This Together,

I’m not sure it’s accurate about Colonel Sanders receiving his social security check, but I included it just in case it is since it makes a great story.

Thanks for the pics,

Choose Well (a distracted Martha in a world that admires merry Mary)



“May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.” Nelson Mandela

I’ve heard about Martha and Mary so often, I almost zoned out during Sunday’s sermon because the message is always the same, “Be merry like Mary.”

The biblical story (Luke 10:38-42 NIV) is about Martha preparing the house and food, and worrying about many things. While she worked, her sister Mary sat at the feet of Jesus and listened.

Instead of learning from Mary, I’ve sat in plenty of pews and resented her. What “Martha” wouldn’t? Mary didn’t mind sitting around while her sister worked. And Jesus didn’t suggest Mary help Martha so both women could sit at his feet. Instead, Martha ended up fatigued and frustrated while Jesus commended Mary for choosing well.

It wasn’t until last Sunday that I heard the sisters’ story changed up and Martha talked about with compassion. I had never heard anyone give her a break much less show her grace. I had never thought to do either one myself. I spent my time wishing I wasn’t like her.


I teared up when I heard our minister talk gently about the Martha in scripture, as well as all the Marthas in the sanctuary.

For the first time, instead of focusing on and resenting Mary, I fell in love with Martha. I understood how hard it was for her to stop working, to stop doing, to stop trying. I heard how she loved Jesus like Mary loved him even though Martha couldn’t sit still and enjoy moments with him. I felt sad hearing how Martha missed the moment, the magic, and the message (from a quote by Rev. Chuck Murphy).

What I’d thought was Jesus’ criticism of Martha turned out to be his encouragement when he told her, “Do these things.”

He wanted Martha to follow Mary’s example, and not because Martha disappointed him and Mary was favored, but because he loved Martha. He wanted her, like Mary, to choose well.

 I thought, Maybe it’s time to forgive Mary, and time to make friends with Martha and myself.

I wish I could put into words what that moment was like, the moment I felt grace for who I am. I’ve wanted to think differently about Martha in the midst of a world that admires Mary, but still wants the job done. I’ve wanted to accept Martha’s dilemma in a world that secretly believes good works get us to heaven no matter how often the church says it’s by grace, and this may be the same church where we feel guilty for not doing enough. I wanted to help Martha in a world where we’re reminded we have a purpose, but we forget the reason is to glorify God, not “worthify” ourselves


I gently remind myself a dozen times a day when I’m working feverishly, worrying, or distracted, “There you go again being Martha.”

This simple prompt helps me slow down and choose well. It helps me with #GettingYourOwnLife. It helps me “look up” like in this quote shared on Facebook by friend Lucille Zimmerman. Thanks, Lucille.

“The moon was reigning over their world, glowing its full splendor to all those willing to look up.” Irina Serban

 I hope something in this post helps you, as well.

In This Together,
A recovering Martha

Thanks for the golden photo that looks like heaven, Joel Carter. Thanks for the other photos,


Ditching Distractions for Life



“You can always find a distraction if you’re looking for one.” Tom Kite

In fact, sometimes distractions find us.

Since writing my blog post from two weeks ago, the one about avoiding my writing (“Are You Hungry for #GettingYourOwnLife?”), I do believe I’ve avoided it even more.

Or maybe I’m just noticing it more. No, wait, it’s for real because I didn’t post last week.

Distracting myself became so obvious, I took notes on it, which I’ll share at the end of this blog post.

My distractions became obvious to my husband, as well. I snapped at him for asking about dinner at dinnertime.

“I’m in the middle of writing,” I said.

The truth? I was 15 minutes into a new section and frustrated I was way past my self-imposed deadline.

I heard the same kind of frustration when leaving a networking luncheon with a friend who’s starting her own business.

“The guy building my website is waiting for one piece of information from me. One piece and I haven’t sent it,” she said holding up one finger to emphasize how little he wanted from her.

“And why not?” she said.

She was asking the question of herself, but I felt convicted, so I confessed.

“I do the same thing. Sometimes I feel paralyzed, so instead of writing my manuscript, I write on Facebook.”

Another friend mentioned her difficulties in trying to claim her life, her space, and her energy to start up a women’s ministry.

“I’m tired from struggling through life and now have an opportunity at the good stuff, but it’s hard because I’m not disciplined for it. I’m used to doing for others,” she said.

“I’m not disciplined either,” I confessed again.

It helped to admit my secret to friends and to John. I mean, it’s not really a secret because Facebook friends see I’m on Facebook and family knows I’m texting, FaceTiming, and shopping at Target. It’s a secret because I’m hiding out from it. Joking around about procrastination isn’t an admission or a fix for it.

I’m a lot like my friend who said, “I’m not an alcoholic. I’m a drunk.”

No one’s fooled by his jokes. However, until he’s willing to give up alcohol, his drinking becomes his life.

The same is true for me until I give up distractions. They become my life. 

When Summer Turner, founder of Summer Turner’s Success for Introverted Women, suggested putting aside anything that doesn’t move me closer to my goal, I was tempted to defend my full calendar, except I knew she was right. When a goal’s been important enough, I’ve limited distractions and written.

For this reason, I’ve always met editor’s deadlines. However, I seldom meet my own, maybe because they don’t seem important enough. 

I have friends my age who, like me, are looking at their lives head-on. An inventory like this can happen at any age, but I think we typically look harder at our lives when we’re shifting from being a mom or dad and a daughter or son to asking “Who am I now?” Also, when we realize we’re not going to live forever.

Most of us are moving beyond “shoulds” and what others think. We are past child rearing years, and one or both of our parents are deceased. We may not need to work as much, but we need something to do.

We’re mindful we have life left, but concerned we don’t have energy for it. We’re tired from wrangling and juggling rigid routines, an overload of work, and complicated relationships.

We’ve been more focused on minding others’ business than our own because we thought we had to be.

More focused on busyness than being still because we thought we had to be.

More focused on family calling or our workplace calling than on God’s calling because we thought we had to be.

I told you in the last post I’d write a good bit about distractions. I also said, “… at the end of this blog post and the next one and the next one, there’s only one way to #GettingYourOwnLife. It’s to get your own life.”

Begin it. Start. Do it every day.

sowa-344442_960_720Having been reminded of that, just moments before I planned to publish this post last night, I read an article written by writer and comedian Sarah Cooper. I hope you’ll read “Do You Take Yourself Seriously?”

Sarah wrote this – if we can’t “just do it” (if we can’t begin it, start, and do it every day), it may be because we’re not taking ourselves seriously. I needed to hear her insight about #GettingYourOwnLife. Maybe you do also.

Here are the notes I mentioned above.

More distractions (all of which I’ve done during the past two weeks):


  • Overthinking #GettingYourOwnLife.
  • Eating out with family and friends. I appreciate restaurant life.
  • Taking daytrips even when John and I agree the weekend is for catching up on writing and paperwork.
  • Caretaking and enabling others (doing for them what they can do for themselves).
  • Commenting on others’ Facebook pages. I previously only mentioned scrolling my newsfeed, but I often take rabbit trails to personal pages.
  • Commenting on blog posts. This one comes via a writer friend’s observation that we may both be distracted from our writing by each other’s writing.
  • Riding around on our golf cart an hour longer than planned.
  • Cleaning out my inbox and junk emails.
  • Cleaning up the desktop on my laptop.
  • Responding to Facebook notifications.
  • Deleting phone messages.
  • Helping John with his home improvement business even when he doesn’t ask.

What has NOT squelched distractions:

  • An online accountability group where I sometimes exaggerated my progress. (Please reframe from gasping and saying “You lied?”)
  • An incentive board to cheer myself on. (What was I thinking since I didn’t make the high school cheerleading squad?)
  • A detailed plan. (Although the plan wasn’t all that detailed, so I may try again.)
  • A timer or two or three to get me off Facebook, out of my email inbox, and onto the page. (I’m obviously unaffected by buzzing and ringing.)

What has squelched a distraction or two:

  • Setting small (sometimes minuscule) daily goals.
  • Having a cleansing cry to flush out frustration. #iamallsplotchy
  • Throwing a fit all by myself whether it’s in my closet or in my car. #donotlookatme
  • Journaling about resistance and why I don’t want to write or why I won’t write. Writing about the fit I just threw sometimes helps.
  • Pushing through things I think about like If I have a clean desk, I’ll write more and better.
  • Playing music because it stirs me. There is a fine line, though. When it’s upbeat, it can stir me to dance for Fitbit steps.
  • Taking a walk to clear my head and figure out what to write next. #onesentenceatatime

What distractions do you need to curb or ditch completely? What attitude change (like taking an inventory or taking yourself seriously) might help with ditching them?

In This Together,

Summer, thanks for sharing Sarah’s article. It may be a game changer as far as how I think about and accomplish my work., thanks for the pix. 🙂

Readers, thank you for keeping me going.

Are You Hungry for #GettingYourOwnLife? (cut out distractions)



“Starve your distractions. Feed your focus.” Unknown

Distractions are not all bad. In fact, some are good and necessary. Here’s proof.

Definition of distraction: a diversion or recreation.
Synonyms: amusement, entertainment, diversion, recreation, leisure pursuit.

A second definition shines a less positive light: a thing that prevents someone from giving full attention to something else.
Synonyms: diversion, interruption, disturbance, interference, hindrance.

The third definition reminded me of author C.J. Darlington’s answer to an interview question about her becoming irritable when she didn’t write. The definition: extreme agitation of the mind or emotions.
Synonyms: frenzy, mental distress, insanity, mania, agitation, perturbation.

“When I don’t write, I’m turning my back on that (my calling to write). It’s taken me a long time to realize this, but I think it’s true for any of us when we don’t do what we know God’s called us to do,” she said during our Interview with C.J. Darlington, Part 3.

The last definition best fits what I’m writing about in this blog post.

I wished for C.J.’s kind of irritability, the kind that feeds our focus. Instead, I got irritable when John ran late in the afternoons. Time he pulled into our driveway, I let go of the guilt I felt about another day of not writing and I put on my wife hat. For at least a year, I postponed writing in anticipation of our dinners together.

I sound hungry for anything but my own life, don’t I?

Pretty ridiculous, huh? I’m as baffled as you must be and I’m as embarrassed as you probably think I should be about how I drummed up that much distraction around 30 minutes of eating.

From Gerald May’s book Addiction and Grace, I vaguely remember his explanations about addiction that could also apply to distractions. He talked about forming attachments, as well as addiction according to mind, body, and spirit and all sorts of addictions we conjure up. The same makes sense when we replace the word “addictions” with “distractions.”

The thing I clearly remember from reading May’s book is his explanation about overcoming addiction.

Stop it. Quit. Don’t do it anymore.

The same is true for distractions. I’ll write a lot more about them because I have a lot of them (see the list below) and because I distract myself often, but know that at the end of this blog post and the next one and the next one, there’s only one way to #GettingYourOwnLife. It’s to get your own life.

Begin it. Start. Do it every day.

Profound, I know. But beginning, starting, and doing it every day are not as easy as they sound in the midst of distractions.


In the next few days, I’ll post a video about a time I practiced #GettingYourOwnLife. I hope you’ll tune in. This evening, I’m posting just for fun a partial list of ways I distract myself from it.

  • Shopping at Belk
  • Changing nail color
  • Reading old magazines
  • Saving articles to reread
  • Scrolling Facebook
  • Shopping for grandkids
  • Playing counselor
  • Playing God
  • Replaying my past
  • Baking and eating
  • Scrolling Facebook
  • Organizing photos of grandkids
  • Holding drama marathons
  • Signing up for too many activities
  • Saying “yes” to the multitudes
  • Doing things to kill time
  • Scrolling Facebook
  • Bragging about grandkids
  • Pinning on Pinterest
  • Replaying what I should have said
  • Shopping at Steinmart
  • Shaping my eyebrows
  • Scrolling Facebook
  • Ordering things for grandkids
  • Organizing clothes by color
  • Organizing shoes by color
  • Organizing underwear by color
  • Organizing my desk
  • Scrolling Facebook
  • Organizing grandkids’ toys
  • Organizing coupons
  • Shopping at Target
  • Cleaning blinds (desperate distraction)
  • Obsessing about relationships
  • Scrolling Facebook
  • Posting on Facebook about grandkids
  • Wollering because I’m frustrated
  • Napping when I should be writing
  • Talking about writing
  • Complaining about not writing
  • Scrolling Facebook
  • Looking for Christmas gifts for grandkids (in June)
  • Walking in place with my Fitbit
  • Researching and re-researching
  • Hitting the snooze button
  • Cleaning under beds
  • Scrolling Facebook
  • Posting on Facebook about grandkids (again)
  • Dusting ceiling fans
  • Piddling
  • Checking Fitbit steps
  • Scrolling Facebook
  • Making lists about grandkids
  • Making more lists
  • Rewriting lists
  • Exercising for hours
  • Etc.

There are plenty of worthy activities on this list, but none of them move forward my writing. Also, what I name as my distraction may be the way you get your own life.

The diet plan to starving our distractions is for each of us to decide what #GettingYourOwnLife looks like and focus + act on it so we can feast on the life we want.

What focus are you feeding? What distractions do you need to starve, at least for a little while? #GettingYourOwnLIfe

In This Together,


I Don’t Have Enough Time


“Know how to live the time that is given you.” Dario Fo

I like painting, but I figure I don’t have time since it’s with oil-based paint and the cleanup takes so long,” said my daughter. “If I can’t paint more than an hour, it isn’t worth it,”

“Oh, and did I mention I’m painting with oil-based paint?”

She was explaining away why she wasn’t painting even though I had no idea she had a painting project underway.

But then, no one has to question me either. Many times I spend more time justifying my inaction to people who didn’t ask than the project would take to complete.

I convince myself I don’t have enough time.

Of course, it’s propaganda. It’s also my primary excuse for not beginning an article, the pile of ironing, a blog post, yard work, website updates, grocery shopping, the list of errands, walking, exercise class, you name it.

“I don’t have enough time” sounds like I got cheated out of something.

I whine as if God gave you the extended 24-hour model while I’m stuck with the condensed version of a day.

Is time management your strength, or do your minutes and hours need straightening out?

WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – I feel frustrated writing this blog post because it’s difficult for me to take responsibility for every hour in the day. Suddenly, if I’m expected to manage each one, 24 sounds like a lot.

Why We Don’t Listen (God’s will or mine?)


“If it’s God’s will, he maintains it. If it’s your will, you maintain it.”
Anonymous (Artwork by Kelly Rae Roberts)

As good as feels to be paid for my writing, I’m questioning if 20 plus magazine, newspaper and website articles a month is what God had in mind when together we set out on this writing path.

The post about busyness got me thinking whether I’ve traded our partnership for a sole proprietorship.

I’ll take almost any writing job that offers a chance to research and put together an interesting article. The past few months, assignments have snowballed alongside offers to teach writing classes, and a mention here and there about editing.

All good stuff, right? Except the few things that have slowed considerably lately like God’s nudges, inspiration, and the secure feeling of his guidance.

I guess I’ve been too preoccupied to notice. But still, I don’t want to slow down.

And why not?

Because busy makes me feel productive and paychecks sometimes feel more reliable than God.

Because it takes more effort to change than to keep down the busy path I’m on. Plus, uncertainty is uncomfortable.

Because I feel in control when I’m busy, and right now I’ve got life under control (laughable, I know).

Mostly, I’m not sure I can muster the faith it’ll take for an updated assignment, not from an editor, but from God.

WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – “If it’s God’s will, he maintains it. If it’s your will, you maintain it,” said a friend. In that case, unless I’m into high maintenance, mustering faith to slow down and listen is the only choice.

Click here for more artwork by Kelly Rae Roberts.

Too Busy To Be


“Busyness is the enemy of spirituality. It is essentially laziness. It is doing the easy thing instead of the hard thing. It is filling our time with our own actions instead of paying attention to God.” Eugene Peterson (Photo of Sally Taylor)

Busy as a bee = too busy to be. 

Silly, I know, but once I noticed the correlation, I couldn’t unnotice it.

I scrambled to justify why I put aside morning readings, my time writing to God, and a 13-item gratitude list I used to say out loud in the shower.

Here are a few reasons I came up with … 

I started three jobs within a month of each other, two on the same day.

In the last 90 days, I’ve written sixty plus articles for newspapers, magazines and websites, not including posts for my own blog.

Two short months from now, our daughter gets married. Her wedding plans include dozens of decisions about invitations, outfits, final selection of foods, flowers, song list, and the list goes on.

It wasn’t until I received a three-way Facebook message this morning that it dawned on me I could step out of commotion and into moments of calmness.

My friends shared about wanting and needing to get back to their morning and evening habits of quiet time including reading, prayer and meditation.

“Are you in?” asked one of them.

Yes, I’m in.

How about you?

WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – My friends’ Facebook message, alongside Peterson’s quote, reminds me to stop busying myself with daily details to the point of forgetting spiritual ones.

On the side: Thanks for giving permission to use your photo, Sally. It’s all the buzz.