The warm tropical sun beat down on the tarmac of the playground outside the classroom window. I couldn’t seem to focus on my schoolwork. I wish I were outside playing in the sand under the shade of the big mango tree. December was the dry season in Nigeria. The voice of my first-grade teacher in our boarding school for missionaries’ children jolted me out of my daydream. “This is the month we celebrate the birth of our Savior, Jesus. Let’s…
Happy Thanksgiving to my friends and family in the US, and Happy Holidays to all of you around the world. I’m blessed to have each of you as a friend. This month, I have much to be thankful for. (Not the least of which is that I’ve recently learned it’s acceptable to end a sentence with a preposition!) Our annual writers’ conference was scheduled for the beginning of November, near Sacramento, but since I had broken my kneecap, I wasn’t…
During the last thirty days… My mom’s memoir was published, Our daughter got married, I hosted two garden tea parties, Fractured my knee (again), Then canceled our annual neighborhood tea, and… This is apparently my 100th post! In January 2018, I created a website where I could post short devotions sharing what I learned as I searched for God’s involvement in my daily activities. Coincidentally, a month later, I received a prompt to write several vignettes about my childhood as…
This is a quick note to say my mom completed her memoir and it’s coming soon. Addendum: It’s here! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DJDVHW47?ref_=pe_93986420_774957520 Over the past ten years, Marcella (Marcy) Jones has carefully crafted her memoir. In the book, she shares details about their thirty years in Nigeria. It’s being published through Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) and will be available on Amazon as a soft-cover and an eBook. Here’s a sneak preview of the back cover: Growing up on a farm in California’s…
This week, Chris and I flew to Canada to celebrate my 65th birthday. For the past few days, I’ve been telling my friends that I’m now officially “old” and that makes all my complaints legitimate! Seriously, I don’t feel a year over thirty-five. And I’m quite possibly just 2/3 through my life–and with all the medical advances every year, I might live until I’m ninety-five. So, I’m doing my best to keep healthy and thankfully am recovering from my tibia…
Recently, several things went awry in my life. A sinus infection morphed into the flu then into bronchitis and had already lasted for over a month when I tripped over a foam roller I carelessly left on the floor. The searing pain in my left leg led to an ER visit and a diagnosis: tibial plateau fracture. Three weeks prior, my husband had retired, and our health insurance terminated at the end of the month. COBRA coverage was supposed to…
In the chapel at Titcombe College, a Scottish teacher, Mr. Ian Finlayson, directed the Nigerian student choir on the stage at the African mission station founded by Serving in Mission (SIM) in the 1950s. I loved the old hymns and they were singing one of my favorites, “There is Power in the Blood.” The first line always encouraged me. “Would you be free from the burden of sin?” I believed that Jesus’ death on the cross provided the cleansing blood,…
Nearly every year since our 25th wedding anniversary, Chris and I have flown back to his homeland, Scotland. He’s a pilot and loves to travel, but I’m a homebody who traveled too much as a child. When away from home, I feel a bit lost and rudderless. I just want to stay put. So this week, I’m grounding myself in Scotland by calling or messaging friends back home in California. I’m trying to comprehend that I’m here in the north…
Today is our daughter’s 32nd birthday. Please don’t tell her she’s eight years old–she’ll only roll her eyes at you. Back in 1992, Heather’s due date was February 26. Throughout my pregnancy, Chris kept saying, “I hope the baby’s born on Leap Year Day.” I didn’t, because I knew it would be a lot of drama and commotion. Sure enough, my due date came and went. Heather waited until 10:30 pm on February 29 and finally made her appearance–with a…
Stepping off our sidewalk curb, I check both ways for traffic on our busy street. I quickly cross to the makeshift lemonade stand in our neighbor’s driveway. Two young boys stand behind a table on which sit large paper cups, two pitchers of lemonade, and a big bowl of popcorn. “Hi, Oscar! Hi, Samuel! What are you selling on this warm, sunny day?” “Lemonade and popcorn. D’you want some?” In all my years while attending boarding school in Nigeria where…