Preface

I read some of Jen Hatmaker’s words last summer. “Sometimes you can connect a few dots and discover a pretty clear path toward vibrancy and possibility.” I thought about the dots that connect for me.


My shelves are full of books I read as a child. I keep a list of books I’ve read beginning in high school. Once near the end of a book — Wallace Stegner’s Crossing to Safety — I had a sense of deja vu. I checked my list and saw I had read the book 14 years earlier.

As a young mom, I’d slip into a book during stolen moments, promising myself I’d go to bed at the end of the chapter, only to fall headlong into the next.


My journals — the first a red diary with lock and key — span decades. I write to clear my head; I write to sort my thoughts. I write to remember.  I write to make sense of my world.

Words. It’s not that hard to figure out my connected dots.  


The idea of a blog came a few years ago. After ruminating on it, starting and delaying, I’m finally here. And I’m excited to connect with you.


Connections with people and creating home are important to me, probably because my husband and I have moved across the country twice in as many years.

We downsized and sold the family home we built — leaving memories, familiar places and people we love. There’s something about sorting 30 years of possessions belonging to 7 people that sharpens your focus.

My children are adults or transitioning adults now, chasing their dreams in places where I am not. I think a lot about ways to stay connected.

I’m learning the delicate balance of holding my children close and letting them go. Give a child roots and wings, right?

When I was a new mom, I read about nutrition, potty-training and first days. (And that could be overwhelming.) Now I navigate unknown territory as I parent/coach/mentor adult and transitioning adult children. My GPS is the word of God, but what does reality look and feel like? I’ve labored over this with friends in this stage of life. Is the lack of information because we think we are done at high school graduation or because we are exhausted?


I am a new grandmother and a daughter of a former professor who struggles with Parkinson’s Disease. They call it the sandwich generation. Sandwich (verb): to squeeze someone between two other people, typically in a restricted space so as to be uncomfortable. Sometimes I feel pressed in all directions.

Life Halved, not half life like in science — but the mark of the middle of a life, like mid-life. Based on statistics, I am looking down hill. Combine that fact with transitions like becoming an empty nester and leaving a job I adored and you may see that I’ve had cause to be reflective. Change is scary, but it’s also an opportunity for growth and a new perspective.

I center myself with time alone for walks, journaling, talks with friends and scripture study. My faith grounds and guides me.


We are seekers, you and I.

We are light gatherers.

We are on this lifelong mission—to gather light and bear it to the world…

Dieter F. Uchtdorf

We have a lot to talk about. I’m so happy that my connected dots have led me to you.