black cats and truths

The other day we were heading to a Halloween party and on the way a black cat crossed in front of us.  My oldest son was spooked for a minute, thinking it’d bring back luck.  And I wanted to laugh.  A lot.  Because at our house we have:


My son has lived with this black cat for well over seven years.  He knows very well there isn’t bad luck because a black cat walks in front of us.  However, it’s late October and as Halloween approaches people start decorating and talking about the perils of a black cats and such.

As I was thinking about it I realized I do this kind of thing all. the. time.   For example, I know I am loved by God and accepted the way I am.  However, it takes about a minute of me listening to outside influences for me to start thinking I’m not good enough.   Which is silly, because I know the truth.  Or at least, I should!  Just like my son should know the truth about a black cat.  I need frequent reminders of truths I already know.

So Happy Halloween!  May you remember the truth, regardless of what you hear.



Love is complex.  It’s awesome.  It’s powerful.  It’s hard.  It’s messy.   It can feel random.  Sometimes it is doing the opposite of what you feel.  It’s hard, it’s glorious, it’s miserable, it’s beautiful.

And sometimes love is simply keeping ‘flowers’ in the window long past their prime and smelling them upon request.


Little moments


In life we constantly juggle big things and little things.  The big elements are obviously important, whether they’re careers, illnesses, faith, relationships, etc.  But the little things can be worth noting too.  Often we’re overwhelmed by the big things (whether they’re good or bad) and we miss many little things.

Having kids around gives opportunities to remember the little things.  Sometimes I want to sit down and cry about a little detail and other times I want to celebrate a small experience.  Either way, the small things in life make it fuller, more fun, and more real.  The little pieces add dimension.

This morning I was reminded of the little things when my three-year-old came up to me and asked for breakfast.  He had already washed his hands without being asked.  Let me repeat: he had washed his hands without being asked.   This is the child who hates washing his hands.   I think parental pride oozed out of all my pores.  It was a moment of joy and bliss.

Now, will this brief moment affect whether or not he is a loving father some day?  Probably not.  Will it help him graduate from school?  Probably not.  However, it is a small part of our journey.  It might be only a tiny pebble in the path, but some pebbles are really beautiful when you take the time to look at them.  So I will celebrate today’s triumph.  It might even help me get through the next catastrophe.

Plus he hasn’t tortured the kitties today.  Yet.

I shall bask in the joy of the fleeting moments.

Take note of the little things in life.  They matter too.



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