with Lynne and Leslie

Yo, Tell Me What You Want, What You Really Really Want

by SweetMidlife

Hi! Lynne here!

Anything is a good excuse to quote The Spice Girls, but it’s actually relevant to what I’m writing about, which makes it much better. Or something. And it’s even more relevant because this whole post is inspired by a quote by Madonna, the pop Goddess of all pop Goddesses, who the Spice Girls probably emulate. Because they are my age, and I think most of us this age wanted to be Madonna at one point in our lives. OOH, that’s a great topic for a blog: Which Madonna did you want to be? For me it’s her in the “Borderline” video, because she was sexy and had a good-looking boyfriend in it,  and was stating her case that she she wanted him to try to understand that she had given all she could, because he had the best of her! And she walked on roofs, which seemed dangerous.  But that’s not my main point for this post (which is a part of “That’s What She Said“, a weekly blogging thingy where you write based on a fantastic quote by a woman).

And to that I say: YES, GIRL.

I have spent a lot of my life afraid. Yes, I have stepped out and done things that gave me pause at first, like travelling around the country in a van (TWICE) as part of a children’s theater tour, and running a couple of marathons, and having a baby in my 40’s. And the fear went out of it when I just decided that I was going to go for it and admitted that it was okay to want those things. I don’t know where I stumbled onto the idea that it was admirable to suffer and not have hopes and dreams, and I haven’t always operated out of that (see above) but I have talked myself out of some things that have been crystal clear to my heart and my soul because I thought I didn’t deserve to get them. Because I didn’t know as much as other people. Or I didn’t train like other people did. Or that the world didn’t need what I had to offer. Or it was too late, and I was doomed to fail and I should go eat another jar of Nutella. Or that because I HAVE done some cool things in my life, I wasn’t allowed to try for anymore, and I should just settle for ordinary. Who told me that? I don’t know. I would love to blame other people. But in the end, if I buy that crap, knowing everything that I know, then the blame is on me.

And that leads me to voicing out loud this thing that is my current want, and that is this: I want to get some plays that I have written produced, and I want to eventually start my own theater company that produces positive theater for kids (with adult actors).

Yep, I said it. Feels good.

And it’s true that I can talk myself out of this like I have other things, and that I could research so much that I feel satisfied with the knowledge I have gained without actually DOING the darned thing. Not this time. I can do this. I don’t know what it’s going to look like, but it’s what I want, and I am going to try, and if it fails, then I will write a play about THAT and perform it right there and then.


So, what do YOU really want? Tell me below! And enjoy the musical inspiration. 


I Wish Salad Didn’t Make Me Sad: Eating Better

by SweetMidlife

Happy Saturday! Lynne here.

Leslie and I write a lot about our quests to be healthier and such. We have both had our buff days, where we ran a lot, and now life and age and kids and pie have contributed to us not being buff so much. And it’s more than just how we look: we know that extra weight can contribute to all kinds of health issues, like heart problems (which run in our family), and to diabetes. I was actually diagnosed as being pre-diabetic 5 years ago, and with changing the way I eat, and with working out a heck of a lot, I lost weight, and my numbers went down!

So, 5 years later, I now weigh 10 pounds more than I did at the scary time, and although I haven’t been told that I am facing diabetes again, I can’t play around anymore. I am working on what I eat, in both how much I eat, and stopping when I am no longer hungry, but also WHAT I eat. I have been trying to mindfully eat, but what you are getting full on cake, then that’s no good. I am working on moderation, and in really wanting to up my veggie and fruit consumption, and I have been eating some delicious things. Sometimes this takes time, so an easy option would be a nice bagged salad.

Except that salad makes me sad.

I have had yummy salads in my day. And yes, some of those were packed with creamy, fatty, and candied things, and I can’t do that everyday. But candied things are delicious. And I am sorry, but sometimes regularly-billed salad makes me want to order something fried in retaliation.

I know that this sounds silly. And it’s a mind thing, too. But you remember in the early 90’s when everyone was into baked chicken breast because it was healthy? Then after your 100th chicken breast, you wanted to run for KFC? That is how I feel about salads. When I am looking at a menu for something to order, salads just seem, well, restrictive. And not fun when compared to something with cheese on it.  I guess I have developed a mental block. And even when I buy bagged greens for my family, I probably get through one serving of them before I have had enough, and the bag sits there waiting for my husband to come home. So sad. Sad lonely bagged salad.

We’re both sad, I guess.

But I guess this is okay. Salad is not chasing me down and forcing me to eat it. Which would be weird. And I am not being docked on fitness points. I guess it is good to admit that I am not so into it, which is good because it forces me to expand my horizons, because I can’t not eat my fair share of veggies anymore.

So we’re cool, salad.


Any of you have go to veggie side dishes? Please share!


The binky and the damage done: Flying with a toddler

by SweetMidlife


My sister is the expert in toddler observation and research, but as the kid who lives with us edges – makes that throws himself headlong- towards his second birthday, I identify more and more with her stories about Alex. I got to see him, and our little one, together in loud, nutty action two weekends ago when we traveled to Maryland for my husband’s college reunion weekend. The visit itself was amazing – if not a little messy, ear-shattering and yelly – but it was the getting there that made me want to buy a Winnebago or a Partridge Family bus and do all of our future travel that way until the kid’s, like, 12 and old enough to carry his own suitcase.

The above photo was taken on the first of our two flights back from Baltimore, to our stopover in Atlanta (that turned out to be more like a run-through.) We were already stressed from the logistics involved with traveling with someone who has more paraphernalia than the rest of us, but can’t carry it or logically understand what a stopover is, or why he can’t stand up in his seat when the seatbelt light is on. We found out that on our second leg, from Atlanta to West Palm Beach, we were seated in three different rows, which would have been disastrous, because in the overtired missed-nap moments, I don’t always love sitting next to my own toddler, let alone the toddler of someone who’s not in shouting distance to handle their business. Nobody wants that.

My husband had tried to handle it at the counter in Baltimore, but they couldn’t help, so he called the customer service number and was told they were looking into it. So we were nervous about that, and about the fact that we had a very, very short window to make our connection in Atlanta, where we often find that we land in Concourse A and our connection is in Concourse Z. (There is no Concourse Z. It just feels that way.) I sat with Toddler while my husband sat directly in front of me, next to a very nice lady who he accidentally knocked some water onto. She was lovely about it and said “Well, it’s water. Water doesn’t stain.”

But you know what does stain? Diet Coke! And it was that caramel-colored fluid that our kid, bored and trying to get my husband’s attention, hit dead-on with the above pink binky which we gave him to suck on to lessen the popping in his ears upon take-off and landing. He threw it backwards overhand and nailed the cup, which spilled all over the lady next to Scott. She was not happy. Scott and I were mortified and both offered to buy her a drink and pay for her drycleaning. She calmed down and smiled and said “No problem. I know what it’s like.”

I think part of our mortification is not wanting to be those parents, the ones that let their kids run up and down the aisle and knock into the flight attendants, who don’t comfort them when they freak out, who let them kick the seat in front of them (On or first leg to Baltimore, at 6:50 in the stupid morning, we turned Toddler’s car seat, which he was sitting in, around to face the back of his own chair, because he was kicking the back of the seat in front of him. The dude sitting in that seat was very appreciative.) Kids are humans, and cannot be expected to always sit quietly and be invisible. People don’t expect adults to do that, so the side eye I get when my kid sometimes even speaks on a plane is unfair. But I don’t want to raise a jerk. I will not raise a jerk. He knew he was being naughty, and when the binky was removed and only handed back upon landing so his little ears wouldn’t pop, he knew why.

I’m not sure when we’re going to fly again, but whenever that is, maybe he’ll be a little older and a little more…chill. And not knock over people’s drinks. I must add that the gate agent at our Atlanta gate, which was actually in the same concourse, not only didn’t make our kid sit alone, but put us all in the same row. Of course, we sat in the wrong row and didn’t realize it until someone came looking for their seats, but they were all cool about it and just sat in front of us. They might have been through this before too.


Happy, Qualified

by SweetMidlife

Howdy! Lynne here!

Yesterday, my son wasn’t happy with me. I had put him in his room for quiet time, which I hoped would morph into nap-time, because he needed it. He had a few toys in there, but when I picked up the stool that he climbs on to look out of his window, he kinda freaked out.

“I NEED it!”, he shrieked,

“I’m sorry. I’m taking it.”

“But I NEEEEEED it (shriek, cry, confusion, hubbub)”, he whined.

“No, honey, you don’t. Have a good quiet time.”, said me, as I closed the door.

And as I went to put the stool away in my office (or the place that my husband calls “The junk room”. Working on that), I had a very brief moment where I thought about leaving him the stool. He would be able to see outside, and he loves talking to the birdies, and watching cars go up and down the street, and telling the bugs to get off of the window. He would be so happy. But he would also be working himself up so much that he wouldn’t be able to relax, and then the chances of him actually napping would be very, very slim. So I went back in my room, with him protesting from across the hall.

Yep, not happy with me at all.

I am 3 years into this parenting thing, and sometimes the strangest thing happens, and I have talked to friends with small kids and they have gone through the same thing. It’s when your kid is mad because you are making him put on pants, and you think, “Well, he’s upset, and he’s cute, so who’s going to say anything if he goes to the playground in a shirt and a Pull-Up?” Then I remember that I am the parent, and I get to say if he wears pants or not, and I make him get dressed, and if he’s mad, he’ll get over it, and be sliding down the sliding board in no time, pants and all.

Because I do everything I can to make sure that my son has a happy life, full of love and support, and entertainment and toys, and treats and faith, and friends and family and music and donuts. But that doesn’t mean that he is going to be happy WITH everything that happens.

Sometimes he can’t have a lollipop for breakfast.

He still has to go to the potty when he gets up, whether he wants to or not.

If he won’t stop banging his tool box on the table after I told him to stop, then I am taking it. And I just paused to do this because this JUST HAPPENED.

And I won’t get the balance right all of the time, and sometimes I am probably too lenient, and other times I need to learn pick my battles.  I am working on it. I am still learning. But this way he won’t be a jerk. And he will learn good things. And we will all be happier in the end.


Our current state: happy AND happy with his after breakfast lollipop and plenty of Nick, Jr.

Our current state: happy AND happy with his after breakfast lollipop and plenty of Nick, Jr.

Thank You, Mommy, For Taking My Laptop Cord

by SweetMidlife

Lynne here.

I have been planning to write this post for a few weeks, which is when this happened, but I kept putting it off. But in the light of the massacre in Charleston a few days ago, and in the need of some happiness, and some hope, it seemed appropriate.

So, it started when my mom was here for my son’s birthday. There was cake. There was ice cream. There was lots of laughter.

The boy in the fireman's outfit my mom got him.

The boy in the fireman’s outfit my mom got him.

Then my mom had to go back home, which is boo. She sometimes leaves things behind, so she was determined not to this time. And she took my laptop cord AND hers back to Arkansas.

So when she figured it out, she over-nighted my cord to me. But it didn’t get right to me.

The package once it came home. But we aren't there yet.

The package once it came home. But we aren’t there yet.

Thank you Postal Lady, for thinking misreading our address. Because the package ended up at a neighbor’s house.

Thank you Mommy, for putting my phone number on it, so that the neighbor knew how to get in touch with me. And also, thank you United States Postal Service for charging so much for overnight delivery, because it made my neighbor want to find me that much more because of how much Mommy paid. But thank you, USPS, for delivering overnight at all. It’s a quality service.


And thanks to my neighbor for calling me, and thank you to me (you’re welcome, Me!) for answering the phone, because at first I thought it was a robocall or something because I didn’t know the number. But thank you to the neighbor for being neighborly.

And that is really the takeaway from this. We have lived in this house for almost 4 years, and I have never had a conversation with this lady. And she pretty much lives right across the street. When we first got here, I had this idea that I would go around to everyone on our racially-diverse block with cookies and a note that said “Hi!”, and well, the only cookies that I have made have gone in my family’s mouths pretty much. I do know our next-door neighbors pretty well, and I know the lady next to them enough to say hi, and I know the elderly couple in their 90’s next to her. I know that the husband drives his wife across the street to get her hair done by a neighbor, who turns out to be the lady I just met. And I said, “We’ve been here for four years”, and she said, “I know!”, and she said, “I heard that house was so nice inside!”, and I commented on her mailbox that is in the shape of a house that looks like her actual house, and how I always loved it. Which means that for all this time, we have known things ABOUT each other, but not taken the time to actually know each other.

We think that we know people’s full stories, when we only know pieces of things, and we make decisions about who they are based on half-things. And sometimes those are benign conclusions, like we drew, and sometimes they are negative ones, and we are running with ideas based on nothing but observations grounded in guesses. And that can lead to the toxic level of distrust of the “Other” that we have in this nation.

So my neighbor and her husband and I talked for a good 20 minutes while my son ran around her yard, and we both decided that there needs to be a neighborhood cookout or something this summer, and I hope this happens. But I know that I walked back across the street feeling good, and also feeling sorry that it took this long. But I hope that we can get to know each other, one cookout at a time, one wave across the street at a time. Nope. We need to MAKE this happen. And it all started because my mom took my laptop cord. I hope that the desire just to know people will be enough one day.


The cord that started it all. And my mom's apology, which is what my son says when he does stuff "accidentally".

The cord that started it all. And my mom’s apology, which is what my son says when he does stuff “accidentally”.

custard shop naples

No-fly zone: Five road trips I want to take this year. Where are you motoring?

by SweetMidlife

custard shop naples

Leslie here…and please pause while I sing a bit of “Sister Christian,” because very few people my age have, since 1984, said the word “motoring” and then not sung “What’s your price for flight? In finding Mr. Right! It’ll be all right…to-niiiight.” Old. Rocking. Not sorry.

OK, now that that’s over, I’m all filled with wanderlust after a ridiculously relaxing trip to Maryland with my husband and the kid who lives with us. It’s the first time we’d been to our home state in more than a year, and the wee one’s second set of round-trip flights. (A blog discussing the indignities and pleasantries of plane travel with a toddler is coming soon, but it’s been a heavy day, so I wanna be on the positive tip today, as we olds would say.) It was great to see everyone, we were super chill and the boy had a good time. But after the running through the airport, fighting to sit together and trying to explain to a 20 month-old why he couldn’t climb over me and run up and down the aisle past the beverage cart like a crazy boy, I turned to my husband and said, “Didn’t you want to do a bunch of road trips this year?”

We live in Florida, a very big state with some places we’ve made favorites, some I haven’t visited in ages and a few I’ve never made the acquaintance of but really need to. I’ll bet there are some cool places within decent driving distance of you, so your list is probably different. What’s your top five place to be motoring…and not take a flight? (I am sorry. You’re singing that now.)

1) Naples: We love the Gulf Coast, because it’s quieter and the beaches on the Gulf of Mexico have a different vibe than those out here on the Atlantic. Naples is a particular favorite, because it’s got several of my favorite things – really nice hotels with room service, an excellent downtown with great shops (see above) and eats up and down Fifth Avenue, and beautiful beaches. It’s a historic, elegant place with some quirks.

2) The Keys: There is no place called Kokomo in the Florida Keys, no matter what the Beach Boys say, but there are some incredible islands, shameless sunsets, cool hotels of every type from dive to divine, breathtaking bridges and lots of places to get lost. Key West was a favorite as a single girl, in bed and breakfasts and in a swanky Sheraton Suites on the beach, and now as a married chick (our honeymoon cruise stopped there, and we turned the end of the Ragnar Relay, which I ran three years ago, into a mini-vacation, staying in a little guest house with a clothing-optional pool. I told my husband that the fit runners would not be in the pool, only like old German tourists. And I was right.) We haven’t been back since the kid has been with us, but we’re in talks for my husband’s big milestone birthday this fall (I would also love to check out Key Largo, where I only stopped for an afternoon when my grandparents were staying there. I’d love to do the glass bottom boat.

leslie pool roof3) South Beach: Again, this is a place we’ve done much differently as married people and parents than when I was single (Remind me to never tell you about that.) The above photo is from the rooftop pool at the Riviera, a cool spot in a slightly quieter portion of SoBe, just west of Collins Avenue. We also did The James, which is a little more central, not far from the shops and stuff on Lincoln Road, and the Metropolitan by Como, a relaxing and purposely chill spot where they’re proud not to be a party spot. I do most of my partying dancing around my living room with a toddler singing Four Seasons songs, so I’m fine with that. These days, we stay in nice places and eat. And there’s plenty of that.

4) Seaside: It’s in the Panhandle, where my husband used to live, but where I’ve yet to go. It’s a bit of a schlep. But I would love to take a few days, where we can stop somewhere in between if the kiddie gets restless, because it’s supposed to be gorgeous, with little postcard houses that attracted Peter Weir when he made “The Truman Show.” It’s also between Destin and Panama City Beach, two places I’m excited to visit, although not at Spring Break.

5) St. Augustine: About ten years ago I did a road trip with my friend Rachel for part of a story where I was running in different places around the state. We stayed at the cutest Victorian B&B, did some cool walking tours, including that of the historic fort there, and met a guy dressed as an authentic Spanish soldier named Jeff, or as we called him, El Jeff-e. I’d love to walk the kiddo around the cobblestones and buy him a little soldier hat. I also wonder how old Jeff’s doing.

Where do you want to go?

Change of Plans

by SweetMidlife

HI! Lynne here. This post was inspired by the quote below, as part of “That’s What She Said”, where bloggers write a piece based on something said by a she.

I like to bake. This is because I have always loved baked goods.I used to make a mean banana bread, and I have recently gotten into bread and such. The smell of bread baking, and the taste of it as butter melts on it, bring back precious memories, and making them myself adds to that enjoyment. I love getting my hands dirty, and feeling the dough rise and watching it crust over in the oven. Okay, I am getting a little excited. Need to take a breath.

I am back. And I am actually making sub rolls right now, and they are a little sticky, but we will see how they finish. Because that’s the thing about bread, and baking in general. You have a plan, and you know what goes in it, and you take a chance that what you are making will turn out like you want, then you cook it. But if you are off, you can’t do anything about it once it’s cooked. You can’t put more salt in it, like you can a stir-fry, or doctor it, like you can a soup. Once it’s baked, it’s baked, and if it tastes nasty, well, it tastes nasty.

But life isn’t like that, thank God. Because sometimes, you put all the ingredients in, all of your plans and experiences, but they turn out differently than you thought. And that’s okay. Me at 44 is different than what me at 18 thought me at 44 would be. I have gone through second acts, and third, and 8th. Shoot, my plans for this week are different than I thought they would be when I ate all of that pie over the weekend with plans to work it off, and now I have caught a touch of whatever virus my son has so the pie is still here in the form of flab because I am too tired to exercise. So there that is.

But it will be okay, because life isn’t as precise as baking. Because you often get unexpected yumminess even when you were working with confusion and redirection and sometimes pain. And I can say that it’s often better than what I thought I was gonna get at the beginning.

I hope this becomes something good. But if not, it's okay. I have more flour.

I hope this becomes something good. But if not, it’s okay. I have more flour.

Rock Summer with Macy’s “Heart of Haiti” Line of Pretty Home Stuff

by SweetMidlife

Lynne here.

We in Sweet Midlife Land are really excited and honored to be able to tell you about something fantastic that Macy’s is doing, besides them having seriously awesome home stuff and equally awesome sales on said stuff. Along with social entrepreneur Willa Shalit and the Clinton Bush Haiti Fund, Macy’s has launched “Heart of Haiti”, an initiative that helps the people of Haiti in the wake of the 7.0 magnitude earthquake that injured more than 300,000 people, killed over 250,000 and left more than 1 million people homeless in 2010. There have been many organizations that have reached out to assist the nation’s recovery, but Heart of Haiti differs from many of those. Using what they call “Trade-not-aid”, Heart of Haiti focuses on Haiti’s artisan community, which at 400,000, is the largest sector of employment in the country. Those individuals rely solely on their handcrafted goods as a source of income, and Macy’s has teamed up with them by selling some of those goods through the store’s Macy’s Gifts That Give Hope line, which features products that give back to the communities that make them. Heart of Haiti offers really, really beautiful handcrafted pieces of home decor that liven up your house while also providing sustainable income for the artisans that produce them: Each artisan receives 50% of the profits for each of their pieces that are sold. That’s fair trade, and it’s pretty amazing.

As part of writing about this line, I got to check out a piece from the collection, the Jonas Sunflower Metal Lantern, which can be used inside your house, or outside on your patio. Watch this video of artisan Jonas Soulouque, who crafts these lanterns out of recycled oil drums. Really. Watch it. It’s amazing.

Beautiful, right? This lantern is pretty much one of the nicest things in my house. Our decorating sense is a little funky, a little eclectic, and a little bohemian, and when we bought our house 4 years ago, we planned on turning our family room into a hip but comfortable hangout. Then we found out we were pregnant the day that we closed on our house. Over the years, the cool pieces that we have as part of our home decor have been joined by blocks, toy trucks, and plastic drums. We have been working to reclaim our style among the toddler’s stuff, and the Jonas lantern is a good entry back into adulthood. I put it on our back deck in front of the internet-inspired bench that I made out of cinder blocks and 4x4s. The Jonas lantern really adds an easy class to the place. See?


It’s really stunning, and definitely stands out in the very best way. I am so excited to have it as part of our summer entertaining. You should get one, or any of the other pieces of the collection for that matter, to liven up your own house or give as a gift (Weddings! Graduations! Housewarmings! Whatever!),  and you can find them all here, or at select Macy’s stores.  It’s a great way to support a recovering nation and its artists, while also adding to your home’s beauty. That’s more than win-win. It’s Mega Win-Mega-Win. Is that a word? It should be.

Disclaimer: I am a member of the Everywhere Society and Everywhere has provided me with a product for this post. However, all thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.



So then there was that time I ruined “The Little Mermaid” for my friend

by SweetMidlife

Leslie here!

Mickey and his friends have told some good stories. And some are about compromising your dreams for a dude.

Mickey and his friends have told some good stories. And some are about compromising your dreams for a dude.

I swear I am not that person.

I am not that awful pop culture ruiner who lives to horn their buzz-kill way into conversations they aren’t sometimes even in, lying in wait to hear others discuss their entertainment loves, the things they hold dear, and then crap all over those dear things because they are evil. Nonetheless, yesterday I innocently but completely ruined “The Little Mermaid,” a favorite movie of my friend Carol, not because I was trying to, but because I couldn’t shut my trap.

I was right about what I said. But now I feel bad about saying it.

Here’s what went down: Somehow, Carol and I, who sit near each other at work, started talking about Idina Menzel, of whom Carol is a huge fan and whom she saw in concert with her daughter. We laughed about how at her upcoming show, 80 percent of the audience won’t know her as the Tony-winning Broadway legend but as the voice of Queen Elsa from “Frozen,” because that movie’s so over-the-top popular with the young kiddies that they’re practically a cult now. And then we laughed about how “Let It Go,” the cult theme song, isn’t even all that good a song, and how we liked “Frozen” OK but didn’t love, love it. (Stand down, “Frozen” fans. I am not the enemy.) And for that second we were so connected and chill.

And then Carol said “Well, my favorite Disney movie is actually ‘The Little Mermaid,'” to which I should have responded “Really? That’s so great! What great music!” because those are things I believe, without mentioning the thing I most believe, which is that “The Little Mermaid” is a movie with great music and a heroine who actually gives up her voice – HER VOICE – for a chance at meeting a guy she’d never actually spoken to when he was conscious. She gave up her voice for love. She had no voice. I don’t know what to say here. But her voice though.

I should not have maybe said that last part, or at least as emphatically as I did. But I did, and I saw Carol’s eyes kinda widen and try to figure out whether she should laugh, cry or smack me.

“You overthought it, girl. You’re getting too deep and you ruined my thing,” she said. “You’re evil.”

I started apologizing because I was not trying to be that person, or blow her mind or change it or do anything to her mind. I was just frothing at the mouth about a thing that has been a thing for me for a while, and which, again, I am right about, because it is exactly the wrong message to send to girls that giving up the most treasured part of yourself like Ariel did. She was young and sheltered and felt sure that this burst of wonder and curiousity she felt for Prince Eric, who she saved from a shipwreck, combined with the fantasy importance she’d already built up about the people on land who understand and don’t reprimand their daughters, was worth not only her beautiful singing voice, but her ability to speak at all. She also got a painful mystical tail-ectomy to form legs she had to learn to walk on, meaning she could never go home to the sea and travel freely in her natural state. Of course, when kids see it they might just hear the wonderful songs, or the silly fish and crabs and stuff, or thrill to the adventure.

But then they’ll learn that the title character, admittedly misguidedly, traded her voice for a guy. No…not even a guy. The chance to get a guy. And then the evil witch her she traded it to stole it, tried to pass herself off as the lady who’d saved the prince, and then tried to kill them both. As you do. I have thought this for 25 years, but Carol had not, so I took her out of a place where she could just enjoy a thing and into a reality where she could never look at the movie she loved the same again.

I felt awful.

“Do you feel awful? I don’t think you feel awful enough.”

But I do. I really do.

By the time I left the office and she had literally walked me to the stairwell to tell me again that I was an evil thing stealer, Carol smiled and told me that when she spoke to her awesome college-aged daughter next, she was going to ask her if she ever thought about Ariel’s sacrifice and what that actually meant, because even though I had messed with her head – “Mind blown!” – I had given her something think about.

“You’re still evil, though.”

Yeah. I know.

Her voice, though.

Don’t Know Where This is Going

by SweetMidlife

Hi! Lynne here!

I apologize if I have written this blog post, or some version of it, before. When I get an idea that sounds vaguely familiar, I sometimes go back through our archives to see if I have indeed already written the piece that I want to write now. But I am not doing that this morning, and that actually what this post is about.

And that’s about doing the thing that you know you are supposed to do, even if you don’t know where it’s going.

I am in a place of awesome possibility right now. We have opportunities to grow this here blog, and I am directing a show this summer with a great group of young actors, and I wrote a play for kids that I have the plans (but not yet the money) to produce. And all of these are wonderful things, but you see, they are several things. And it is hard to get one thing done when you can’t focus on it because you are thinking about the other thing. So, it would seem, that I should clear my plate of all but a few things, and then I should go forward with the things that make the most sense, and that I should do them in the most logical way possible, with the information that is currently in front of me. Because that makes sense.

But sometimes you have taken so much time researching and looking at logistics, the moment to do what you heard God telling you to do in the first place has passed. Because God can see the whole picture sometimes, when all we see is a corner of it.

Sometimes you just need to work the thing or things that God told you to without knowing the long-term outcome or what is going to look like when it’s over, or even how this thing fits with the other thing.

This morning our Pastor spoke about how God makes all things work together for the good of those who love them. This doesn’t mean that you are going to get the job that you applied for this week, or that this guy you are dating is The One, or that this is the exercise program that is going to be the key to you losing all of the baby weight you have lost and then put back on so now it really isn’t baby weight anymore. Yeah. But it means that if you really feel God calling you to it, you should go on and work that, even if you don’t know where it’s going. As I listened to the sermon this morning, I thought of all of the things that I have on my plate, and how I don’t know where to put them all, or where to go next, and I heard God speak in that moment.

And He said, “You don’t need to know how it’s going to end up. Just do the small things that I told you to do and don’t do the other things.”


So I wrote this blog post. Because I know I was supposed to do that. And I am going to stop trying to make things fit the way I thought they were going to, or what I even told people I was going to do. And I know that you should be prepared and have a plan and all of that. But sometimes you are just supposed to trust.

Just do that thing. And do it well. And God will work the rest out.

Random picture of toy school bus because this post is about motion and that's all I could think of.

Random picture of toy school bus because this post is about motion and that’s all I could think of.

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