Fun for a rainy day

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I can think of nothing I’d rather do on a cold, rainy Saturday morning than curl up under a warm blanket with a hot cup of tea nearby and while away the time reading. From the weather forecast, it sounds like a lot of us may be spending the day inside, and so I thought I’d share some of my favorite blog reads with you as a bonus post this week.

Earlier this week, I was honored with a blog award by a fellow blogger (the best kind of award comes from our compatriots, right?), and though I don’t usually play along with blog awards because they remind me a bit too much of chain letters and ask me to answer questions that might show up as the security questions for my online commerce sites, getting an award always makes me feel a little happier, like someone has taken time to give me a little pat on the back. So I thought I would take some time today to pass along some blog love.

After all, it gives me a chance to say thanks to the bloggers who entertain me, encourage me, make me think, make me workout harder or smarter, and make me laugh, too. Who knows, you may find a new favorite among the list.

So with no strings attached, here’s a list of blogs I enjoy that you might, too.

First, a big thanks to Julia, who nominated me for the award. She’s 17 (!) and a self-described budding author. I’m all about encouraging the next generation of writers. So be sure to check out her blog. Continue reading →

Why I’m done with Downton Abbey

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Spoiler alert: This post contains information that gives away the Downton Abbey season 3 finale, along with other plot points of this latest season. If you’re trying to catch up on the craze and don’t want to know what happens, then stop reading (but come back to this post after you’ve watched the season finale because I want to know your reaction).

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I was late to the Downton Abbey party, and ended up watching the first two seasons through Netflix. I got hooked, like so many of my friends who loved to talk about Mary and Matthew and evil O’Brien and Thomas (the conniving servants we all love to hate). And so I was excited about actually watching a season along with my friends for a change and being able to talk with them about the developments as the season progressed.

Most Sunday nights of late, one of my friends has posted on Facebook his favorite quote of the evening from the Dowager Countess (played by one of my all-time favorite actresses Maggie Smith). I usually recorded the show, and so I had to avoid Monday-morning commentary about the show so I wouldn’t learn any of the plot before watching it. But I have enjoyed the banter back and forth about the show and its characters this season.

You know a show has hit it big when there are t-shirts. “Free John Bates” and “Keep Calm and Ring Carson to Bring Tea” are just two that I came across in a catalog late last year. You can even buy a t-shirt that proclaims your affinity for one of the sisters: “I’m a Mary,” “I’m an Edith,” or “I’m a Sybil.”

You can also rate a show’s popularity by the number of spoofs it inspires. Jimmy Fallon has done spoofs on his late night show, Saturday Night Live spoofed the show, and even Sesame Street has gotten in on the act:

But this Sunday was my last episode. Writer Julian Fellowes has gone too far and killed not only a beloved character on the show but also managed to kill my desire to keep watching.  Continue reading →

Love of place (and a Lenten challenge)

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Before I launch into today’s post, I want to thank those of you who responded to last week’s post, The obsession with our scales. I enjoyed the range of comments you emailed and wanted to encourage you to take the season of Lent (which starts today) to consider whether you need to shift the way you think about food and weight. Lent offers a time to repent of sins in preparation for Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection, and it’s a season that Christians traditionally give something up as a way of focusing more on Christ.

Maybe it’s your scale (and the anxieties that accompany stepping on it) that you need to give up to God this Lent. Could you put it away in a closet and not look at it again until after Easter and spend the time you would normally stand pondering the number on the scale instead reading a Bible verse or saying a quick prayer? Or maybe you need to change some eating habits (too much sugar/alcohol/caffeine, not enough vegetables/fruit/water) so you’ll have the energy you need to get up five minutes early every morning to spend time with God. I’d love to know if you’re giving something up or adding something in this season of Lent, and if it’s extra challenging, I’d be honored to pray for your success in this area. Just let me know by emailing me or commenting below! And now for today’s post …

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Love of place
I spent this past weekend in the mountains, a place that is home away from home for my husband and me, a place that sometimes feels most like “home,” though we don’t live there permanently, a place so wrapped in natural beauty that I feel closer to God when I’m there.

We had been away for too long, and I was giddy at returning, proving that the adage “Distance makes the heart grow fonder” doesn’t apply only to people. This place has wound its way into my heart.

I took some time simply reacquainting myself with this place, walking its trails, skirting its places still icy with winter, sitting in a favorite restaurant filled with laughter and the unforgettable smell of a wood-fired oven, driving to catch the best moments of setting sun.

So on this eve of Valentine’s Day, I wanted to honor this place I love so dearly by sharing some photos of it with you.

Ducksandripples

Ducks and ripples in a part of the lake without ice

I discovered a few fallen friends along the trails I walked, victims of wind and winter.

I discovered a few fallen friends along the trails I walked, victims of wind and winter.

icedroplets

I saw these ice crystals and wondered if earlier versions had inspired the first chandelier makers.

frozenmidmelt

More chandelier inspiration; I love how many colors show up in this photograph, proving that winter isn’t all gray and brown

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Time for reflection — both mine and nature’s

sunsetatMosesCone

A broad horizon at sunset

WonderlandSunset

Layers of blue ridgelines as the sun sets

Perhaps you understand? Maybe you, too, have a deep and abiding love of place? What place grips your heart this way? What about it feels like “home” to you? Why not send it a little Valentine in the comments below?

The obsession with our scales

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“I’m fat, and I need to lose weight,” she said. She was completely serious.

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I stood in front of her trying not to let my mouth hang open in amazement, trying desperately to find the right words for her in that moment. We had only just met a few minutes before, and here she was, sharing this anxiety with me. And because of the circumstances, I so desperately wanted my response to be right.

You see, she is a lovely elementary school girl – a thin, almost petite, elementary school girl.

I was the only one of her Girls on the Run coaches standing with her and her friend as we waited for the others to arrive for the first session of our season together. She was chatting away, telling me how excited she was to learn to run, “because my mom told me running would help me lose weight.”

Me: “Do you think that’s something you need to worry about?”
Her: “Yes. I’m fat, and I need to lose weight.”
Me: “I don’t think you need to lose any weight.”
Her friend: “Well, I know I need to lose weight.”
Me: “I don’t think any growing girl needs to worry about weight.”

Those were the words spoken out loud, but I wonder what was going on in the brains of the two girls as we stood together talking. Did the girl who brought up the subject want me to reassure her that she was thin and pretty? Did the one who stood by quietly wonder how best to support her friend and decided the best way was to answer, “Me, too”? Or did they both truly believe they are fat? Continue reading →

Running for an imperishable wreath

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When I was six years old, I held my mother’s hand while we gleefully smashed the tiny acorns that scattered the sidewalk in front of our church.

When Lopez Lomong was the same age, he was ripped from his mother’s tight grip, taken by soldiers from under the trees where his family and others from surrounding villages had been in prayer during a church service.

I was born in America. Lomong was born in southern Sudan (now South Sudan). To quote Robert Frost, “That has made all the difference.” It’s a difference I can’t begin to grasp.

Lomong is one of my Olympic heroes, representing the USA in two Olympics – in 2008 in Beijing where he also served as flag bearer in the opening ceremonies and again this past summer in London where he came in 10th in the 5,000 meter final. I feel blessed that I got to see him earn a spot on both the 2008 and 2012 teams, watching him race at the U.S. Olympic Track & Field Trials in Eugene, Ore.

Lomong runs a victory lap after winning a spot on the US Olympic team this past June in Eugene, Ore.

Lomong runs a victory lap after winning a spot on the US Olympic team this past June in Eugene, Ore.

Lomong’s story is nothing short of amazing: from being abducted by soldiers in war-torn Sudan to living in a refugee camp in Kenya for 10 years to a journey to the United States where he would become a citizen and live out his own version of the American dream while never forgetting the other boys and girls left behind in Sudan.

Lomong has shared his life – its struggles and triumphs – in a moving memoir published last year, called Running for My Life. Never has a book title been so accurate. Running saved his life.

RunningforMyLifeLopezLomongCover

Lomong’s remarkable memoir of his life so far

Lomong’s book was one of the Christmas presents I gave my husband, and I read it right after he did, knowing that I needed to keep the kleenex nearby. I was still unprepared for how the book would affect me emotionally. Continue reading →