Blogology and Those Darn Tired Turns of Phrase


What about a little backing up and regrouping.

I believe if I were you I’d want to know the why’s and the how-come’s behind the space. The one right here which often irks the grammar police, I feel certain. Because I was born in 1959 I was taught there are two spaces after a period and last week I learned there is only one. And that looked like a run on sentence to some.

What were you thinking? Sort of a blogology or blogging credo or mantra or something.

I love that you are here and it blesses my heart, literally not like the wonderful southern  cliche which I use far too often. But it truly does.

So if you are here and when you are here this is a bit of the “what was I thinking”.

I do love that you are here and that we can walk shoulder to shoulder through this life, or parts of it at least.  And I almost said “walk through this journey” together. Darn those cliches. It is that though truly so until I find a fresher more unique to me and my voice way to say it,  I’ll  just say journey.  And then I’ll ask you to extend a bit of grace for the lack of originality.

I do love this community of ya’ll. You know who you are. I don’t want to label you or define you or put you in a box or slap a term on you. Because if you are here, until you tell me why I guess I don’t know. Really. For certain. But I am grateful. And every time you speak through the comment box I can feel and smell and hear your presence. And I am thankful that my spam catcher catches some CRAZY stuff. I mean ya’ll should read it sometime. But I digress. You all teach me, encourage me, and inspire me.

Please know that when I am here and you are there, my deep longing of the soul is to type, say, write, and present that which is honest, real, true, and authentic . Thank you for allowing me to share pieces and parts of my story as I feel lead and at the leading of the Spirit.You are gracious and you seem to be great listeners.At least from my vantage point.

Thank you for remembering that each post is just a snapshot in time, a piece of a larger part. In order to see and hear more completely, well, you may need to follow and read more of the parts and pieces. That is to say, one post does not make the man. Okay, I am a woman which you undoubtedly know by now. And when I update my “About Me” on this blog, I will add that though cliches seem to annoy me, I seem to have more than a few popping up. Got to fix that.

Which leads me to telling you how I would like to offer you fresh posts. Unique perspectives. And a mix of how I see with what we all see as a community of Christ followers. In our shared humaneness we share so much, but as individuals it will always be mad crazy deeply unique to me.  I can truly only really write honestly and passionately from my insides. From my own knower that was formed from my heart, soul, mind and spirit. So what I write, probably should look like my story. That you read and that you come is still amazing. Simply beyond amazing. But don’t we all hunger for the creative. And don’t we long for Art. And don’t we seek excellence and not mediocre. Please know I try to bring it and to lean on and into Him.Thank you for grace when you see stale. And when you see less than. I offer my apologies, truly.

Sometimes simple is  strongest and the straightest way to real. I love to write. But man oh man do I love God. You all should hear some of the things he’s brought me through. So I want to point to Him and honor Him with my writing. If I don’t, you all can help. Keep me accountable. That would be lovely. And I thank Him  for the privilege of writing and the honor of your eyes being here.

And because I just wrote that last point, you know the one above, I need to heed my own advice and keep this simple. Therefore, I will stop. But I do reserve the right to write a Part 2 of this Blogology post. You’ve seen some posts have both a part one and part two. If you haven’t you can search the archives. There is at least one there. Or rather here.

Did you think because there were shrimp boats in the photograph I was going to make a reference to this blog being a voyage? Well I am not. But I am going to thank my friend Harriett for her wonderful photograph. And I do try to mark my own photography with “wynnegraceappears” in the corner. At least I have for several months. But today and other days, my dear dear friend Harriett has given her gift of photography freely and generously for its use on this blog. Thank you Harriett. You’ll see some more from her.She’s got talent. And she loves the Lord in a big way. I will ask her permission to tell some of her story. It will bless your socks off. (mixing metaphors is so much fun).

Thank you for viewing life through this lense of grace. And if you were counting the number of times I used truly…..it was probably more than once. And you can practice wild grace even now for that.

And if you thought I was going to thank you for your comments before you even left one, you were right.If you come back tomorrow I will probably start more than one sentence with And. Got Grace? (Is that a cliche yet?)

Linking with Heather and Jen. And I am grateful for their hospitality. Thank you ladies.

Five Things A Recent Glamping Trip Taught Me About Life

On a recent Glamping trip with The Patient One, the kiddos,  and close friends, I learned a lot about life, the gospel, and of course some truths about Glamping.

1. Glamping requires a return to simplicity.

Our glamping vehicle was lovingly named the tinaminium (spell check does not recognize this as a word). It was a rented camper that provided many creature comforts (therefore the loose refence to the “minium” in the term of endearment, tinaminium. Condo’s bring some form of luxury to mind. I digress. What’s new.

Life lived under the brilliant stars and the ebony black sky is exhilarating. The air feels cleaner, the stars are brighter, and many of life’s accoutrements are left at home. This is by design, in order to do life differently, and due to a lack of space. They are somehow not missed at all. (well accept for the long hot showers and the strong internet signal). We packed high thread count sheets and white linen table cloths and our ipads. That’s why its called Glamping sillies.

2. It is important to love your neighbor as yourself, while at your glampsite. (spell check doesn’t know this word either.)

This means don’t run your generator when others are sleeping because it is loud and bothersome. It is important to be a good neighbor because you are parked very close to your neighbor, therefore any of the fruits of the spirit which you didn’t leave at home should be used in dealing with  communicating with others.

For example, if your neighbor’s campsite is in close proximity to the door of your home-on-wheels and the  smoke is wafting into your tiniminium, causing you to be engulfed
in smoke   slightly inconvenienced, its best to be a good neighbor by moving your vehicle out of the smoke’s way.  It is much simpler and kinder than asking them to a. move their camp fire b. extinguish their campfire c. use different firewood that doesn’t smoke up the entire neighborhood.

3.Glampsites are a breeding ground for good story-telling and honing your listening skills.

Writers love stories, and I love writing, therefore, I love stories.  I love listening to them, digesting them, processing them, and writing them.  That must be why I love glamping so much.  Because they are a breeding ground for story. Wait that may have been a leap, or I may have loosely connected the dots there on point 3.

Time stood still, as Time does when you are engrossed in a good story, so I don’t know how long I listened to a new “friend”, my glampsite neighbor tell me an amazing story of his life.  He is a writer and I am a writer so naturally we talked for a very long time.  And I will be writing more of his story here on these pages after I have asked his permission to re-tell.  It is his story not mine, so I’d like to request permission before pressing publish here on the blog.

What I can tell you, is it was rich and deep and heartbreaking.  I can tell you that his story is filled with redemption, hope, and C.S. Lewis’ “Mere Christianity.” I can tell you that the strength and perserverance that it took to live through his pain, heal from his pain, and ultimately choose to share his story, well they inspire. And they are a beautiful story of forgiveness, healing, and love.

(I did not expect this story to come sit in my lap and pierce my heart while Glamping. Did I mention that I was surprised often while on this Glamping trip.)

And I can tell you if I hadn’t gone Glamping, I wouldn’t have met my new “friend”.  He called out to me and asked me to sit and talk to him while he breaded shrimp for the fryer.  He said  “I am a little OCD about this process.”  That is why we had an inordinate amount of time together, talking and listening over three pounds of shrimp being breaded. It was time very well-spent.

I also sat and chatted with a neighbor from home and learned that she had lost both of her parents this past year.  I have known her for 17 years, we live in the same small town, we have children the same age and I didn’t know that her mother and father had both died this year.

Her story caused me to stare into her eyes and listen with all I have.  There is more to her story than I can share until I ask, but losing parents in one condensed time frame has to be deeply painful.  She and I have made plans to go paddle boarding together.  I have another “new” friend because of glamping.

4. Glamping creates the need to be dependent on one another for “survival.”

We dragged a lot of stuff with us, but we still didn’t prepare well enough.  Our friends, not the ones in the glamper with us but the ones in a tent down the way, prepared better than we did in the food (protein) department.  Because they are kind, generous, and really good cooks, gifted really in the culinary arts, we ate like Kings and Queens.  We “lived” off of their grill and their kindness.  Well, I can’t speak for anyone else.  I did. And food tastes better when its prepared on a new $700 grill which is transported out to a glampsite for the weekend.  And food tastes better when it is eaten out-of- doors in the cool fresh air. In fact, a lot of things are better out-of-doors on a plantation in the middle of nowhere.  We know it was nowhere because the GPS couldn’t find it.

5. Friendship is better in close quarters (and friendships grow deep roots in the dark)

When Glamping, your generator must be turned on in order to have light. Well sometimes its just best to preserve your power and sit in the dark. Especially when it is late at night, and music from the music festival is serenading you on a Saturday night, on a quail hunting plantation, on a cool May night, in your tinaminium with a really close friend. Actually, your super-glue friend, your accountability partner and your sister-in-Christ. The dark can be good for sharing life, your heart, and having good momma time.

The dark of night can breed intimacy in friendship. And living in very close quarters could test the best of friendships. But this one survived and may have been made stronger. Many of our friends have walk in closets bigger than this space the four of us shared for a weekend.

Because we like to laugh, we imagined that Jesus could have written a parable teaching us how to treat others in a glamping campsite. We studied the parables in our Bible Study this fall, so they were still front and center in our frontal lobe parts. We had a stranger come to our door during that dark of night, generator off, talking heart to heart time. He scared us. We think we missed an opportunity to be kinder and gentler to him than we were. Did I mentioned he scared us? He had the wrong door, its like the wrong number when you call someone. He was looking for friends. They were staying in the tinaminium next door. Did I mention he scared us.( Well startled would be more accurate.) We pointed him in the right direction. But we didn’t offer him a meal or a kind word. And we weren’t particularly good neighbors. We felt like those in the parable of the Good Samaraitan who passed by the guy laying in the ditch. You know, the ones who didn’t help. Well we pointed him in the right direction. He just had the wrong camper.

Maybe we’ll get a second chance to “do unto others” on our next Glamping trip. Maybe we’ll get a do-over in the do-unto others department. We can only hope.

And there will be another. Even though the showers are short and sweet, and the creature comforts are few and far between, even with a loud generator.

Who doesn’t love the chance to hear stories under the blue sky days out in the middle of a field. And to live more simply.

There is much to learn out under the stars, and clouds, huddled by your camper with friends and family.

I wish I hadn’t stopped with five things I learned, though you may be.

wishing His grace….

If I Were A Phlogger……..

{Thank you for being here.  You may want to pop over to my Facebook Page and “like” it.  That would be a huge gift and another way to follow this blog of mine. And you are invited to scroll down and sign up to follow daily via email. Isn’t housekeeping fun.  That was my little bit of housekeeping.}

And did I say thank you for popping in and reading and just being here.

Today I am counting gifts at A Holy Experience with Ann Voskamp. You may enjoy her blog, her book, or her Facebook page.  I have.

It has been a gift to count gifts often, shifting that lense a bit to one of gratitude.

Today I am counting in a phlog format.  That is I am adapting to  a photographer’s blog format, a phlog.

Yes, I may have heard of everything now.

Come along with me as I count some gifts in my world.  Gratitude can be contagious. You may think of your own as your read. (This list is not cumulative because that is not how I am rolling with this.  It is a bit unorthodox, and I do not have a journal just for my gifts, though I wish I did. But I know that God sees a grateful heart. Or, gosh I hope He does.  One day I may have my gratefulness act together.)

* A fun lunch with The Patient One and my sweet girl.  This is the before of a crazy menu offering that he was brave enough to order.  My stomach hurt when it landed on the table was brought by the server to the table.


My tummy hearts reliving it. But the gift was in having the impromptu meal as a trio and finding what really was a lovely restaurant. Quirky menu.  Outdoor seating that allowed us to bring the momma lab.  And there was a cool breeze which you can’t see because the ginormous sandwhich is blocking the wind.

And this was what was left.

*Grateful for time with children. Relaxed time. Celebratory time. Even though one was missing, sadly, The Patient One and I focused for awhile on man/child and last but not least, growing up way too fast, daughter.

*Very special time with man/child and his very special friend on her graduation weekend from College. Very happy, calm, relaxing, and a day you just cannot imagine repeating — EVER.

This bird is about to fly the coop and take his feathers and all of his joy right out of our door in a matter of weeks. So every moment of soaking him in, and the man he is becoming is bottled up Joy, pure and simple. And this mother soaked it in with her eyes and her camera.

My imagination narrative is that he is dreaming of his future and what it will feel like to live outside of our home. In reality, he is probably daydreaming and watching his momma lab swim.

*Grateful for this momma lab to be. It was not easy but she is finally expecting her first litter of puppies in a few weeks. Our family is gathered around this event as if it were a person child on the way to join our family, not a furry person whose puppies will all be lovingly delivered to new homes.

I rather like this phlogging idea. I may have to make this a regular feature.

*I slipped away from friends and family for a moment to glance out at an amazing view. I love chairs, weathered, inviting, so full of potential. I am happy just to photograph them. I am grateful that they represent respite, and calm, relaxation and a slowed pace, all of which we experienced this day.

* The Patient One and I rode out to look at a house which our man/child may rent after he graduates from College in a few weeks. During our scenic tour of this wonderful island, I fell in love with all the potential this community holds for his new life. And I dreamed of his days becoming a man away from us.

*And oh, my beloved Mother’s Day cards. I am so grateful for the words, and the handwritten sweetness inside both of these. It is a gift to see that middle son can actually print so neatly. I know he tried his best to write plainly and clearly. That was the gift. And that he was fifteen minutes late for church, as opposed to missing completely, because he stopped to get the card before church….well the gift is he made it to church and had a some what acceptable reason for making it just in time for the sermon. I almost gave myself lock jaw, I was so tense waiting for him to arrive. I glanced over my shoulder a hundred times nervously searching  once or twice expectanting him to arrive any minute.

The Lord is teaching me patience. I am a VERY slow learner.

He is working on Pride issues too, as I did not want to be the momma in church on Mother’s Day with the missing kiddo.

I know I will remember this card FOREVER and will lovingly place it in a memory box.  The memories of my prideful heart racing and of his walking in to church on the very late side of the service will fade.  God is good that way.

* And I am grateful that I learned a little of the phlogging format. I am loving living behind my little camera lense, gazing at gifts and counting them not often enough.

Up On The Tightrope Wire

“A well-developed sense of humor is the pole that adds balance to your steps as you walk the tightrope of life”  –William Arthur Ward

I may have lost it.  My sense of humor that is.  Do you know the guards at Buckingham Palace.  The ones who stand guard like concrete statues.The ones  you cannot get to flinch, to smile, to giggle, to break their poker face icey stares. That is me.  If this mothering gig doesn’t work out I have a great chance of signing on at Buckingham Palace as the first female guard.  You cannot break this stone-face stare.

I stand guard at the threshold of my home.  These teenagers and occassionally our adult child have to pass through my icey stare and answer all the questions.  How was this?  How was that?  Fun right.  And I don’t blink.  This job of mine has such dire consequences, if I stumble and fall,  they ALL fall down.

Or so I believe.  What if the first thing they see is a smile? Will they reflect joy.  What if the first thing they are met with is a warm embrace.  Will they reflect compassion. What if I warmly insert  humor in my third degree line of questioning.

I am bone-tired of standing like a soldier, guarding my chicks like a stoic mother-hen.  Wait can a hen be stoic.  What if a grade slips, or a curfew isn’t met, or an errand isn’t completed on time.  Or sunscreen isn’t worn, or a pill isn’t taken, or youth-group is missed to go support a friends soccer match.  What if.  What is the worst thing that can happen.

“A cheerful disposition is good for your health; gloom and doom leave you bone-tired.”- Proverbs 17:22

I need to cheer-up this disposition of mine.  I need a spirit of cheerfulness and light-heartedness.  Pronto.

To remind myself that I had not lost my sense of humor I went and found a picture  of myself smiling.  Gosh it is so old. It may have been taken before Mayberry went into re-reuns.

I am going to find a recent one of me laughing so I know there is potential there.

This tightrope act.  This thing we call balance.  It is just plain hard.  When to speak and when to listen.  When to reprimand, when to remain silent.  When to  speak words of praise, encouragement, discipline,challenge,love, hope and pride.  When to rein in.  When to loose the grip, the grasp on these children we love so, and when to tighten and cinch in the boundaries.

When to press in on standards and conformity, and when to let loose  to allow and even encourage creativity and individuality to flow freely.

I love what they are becoming and who they are becoming.  In Christ.

But as it says in the Proverbs, “gloom and doom leave you bone-tired.”  It is time for a season of laughter.  Of joy.  Of smiling and letting little things just lie.

I need humor to walk this tightrope of life.  I may stumble and I may fall.  I may slip up and fail.  No, I will stumble, I will fall, I will fail, but I want to go down with a smile on my face.  I want my children to see joy and laughter in my contenance.

I want them to experience Grace when they are in my presence.  I want it to wear a smile.

And I don’t want to move to London this close to Mother’s Day.