A Crowbar and Some Rust-Oleum

It just needed new tires and paint. He said, “They salt everything up there. You’ll be driving a car full of holes in no time.” So I bought some Rust-Oleum and sprayed it myself, a nice navy blue that contrasted with the faded blue on the sides. We were styling driving across the country. (Do you ever see those cars on the highway, wondering where they’re going and hoping they’ll make it? That was ours.)

Trying to clean up when guests arrive early

A couple weeks ago one of our pastors was preaching about worship and told the story of Mary and Martha, how Martha was doing all the work while Mary just sat and listened to Jesus. I was wondering if maybe the argument wasn’t all Jesus’ fault. Could Jesus have committed the unpardonable sin of being the guest that arrives early?

Quitting Facebook

What did we ever do before Facebook? Some of you are wondering. And some of you are thinking of quitting. But if like me, you’re not, then you’re going to need some kind of response to those who say they’re quitting and in a round-about way suggest you should do the same. Here are some ways you could respond.

Safe Place

Many of you probably know about the latest Facebook viral campaign. Last week Facebook friends the world over were changing their profile pictures to that of cartoons, supposedly whatever their favorite was as a kid. I couldn’t think of a favorite, which is probably why I didn’t do it. Vanity Smurf maybe, because at least the picture would still bear my resemblance—the vanity part, I’m not blue.

Caught in the Rain

A couple weeks ago I bought new windshield wiper blades for our minivan. I know what you’re thinking: Wow, this sounds like an exciting post! So here’s a teaser: I’m recounting the moment the Owens Family was saved from annihilation. ... Every time I change our wiper blades I think back to the moment that was pivotal in mine and Cindy’s life together. More than twice a year (you should probably change your blades before and after winter) I recall the event that propelled us into the future together. This was the day, Valentine’s Day of 1998, when I helped Cindy change the wiper blades on her little green Mitsubishi Mirage.

Seattle’s Best

I wrote about my love of coffee recently, specifically about my disdain for plastic lids. One of the troublesome things about moving to a small town is the lack of coffee houses here. Now, we do actually have two places, right across the street from one another like gas stations. But while their coffee is pretty decent, their hours are pitiful.

Alabaster Tears (Part 1): Party as a Verb

I love going to and hosting parties. I remember birthday parties as a kid, ones I always shared with my twin sister. My mother used to order a sheet cake from Goldsboro’s Bakery, I think it was, featuring Strawberry Shortcake on one half for Becky and the other with Hot Wheels or the like for me. One childhood birthday party in particular I remember with shame.

Just Picking Up a Prescription

Just two more installments of “A Look Back.” I’ve already lost interest, which is probably why I didn’t post last week or the week before. Perhaps you have, as well, and are considering skipping Part 6. But I promise you this will be a good one, if not for the wild story I’ll share. First,…