tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-144290872024-03-18T22:17:33.402-05:00The Road Less TraveledEvery journey begins with a simple question: Which road will I take today?Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.comBlogger339125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-38372803141424037882017-03-19T18:19:00.002-05:002017-03-19T18:19:46.921-05:00Tight Spaces
Here we are in the season of Lent, a time when we walk with
Jesus toward the cross. It is a season
of seeing the vulnerability of Divine Love who clothes Himself with flesh so
that He might enter fully into the messiness of humanity. It is a season of facing truthfully our own
messy selves and our own messy lives and our own messy world. In all this messiness that is me, Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-16534991054238798512016-06-16T17:52:00.000-05:002016-06-16T17:52:19.884-05:00Grace, Grief, and GratitudeLeave taking is hard.
Since I was a child I have known this intimately. Visiting family often followed this pattern: Every night before their arrival was sleepless with anticipation, excitement. But the return to home, often in the shape of a long car trip, was marked by a deepening dread and despair that descended upon my heart with every mile. Saying goodbye to a loved one Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-57929750269005318662016-05-17T13:43:00.001-05:002016-05-17T13:43:58.163-05:00The Invitation. . . .or The Parable of the Roast That Wasn't
Once upon a time Preacher Girl got up early, on the one morning she could have slept in. It was spring break and one of her beloveds had requested a special meal. In fact, in honor of spring break and all the extra time afforded by unscheduled days, the whole mess of them had been feasting upon special meals all week. But finally it was time for the crowning jewel of the Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-47030081931694567372016-04-01T11:18:00.002-05:002016-04-24T22:16:21.188-05:00Catch and Release
Baptism Day
I love this picture. It is from the day our oldest son was baptized. It was a Holy day as we brought him before the Lord, asking for and trusting the Holy Spirit to work in his life, promising to raise him in such a way that one day Noah could make that commitment to follow Jesus for himself. Not only were we entrusting him to God's care and Grace, God was Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-83867602138427770262016-01-30T22:34:00.000-06:002016-01-30T22:34:13.656-06:00Staying In Love With God
At church we have been hearing messages that outline good principles to live by for 2016. Last Sunday (and tomorrow too) the principle is "Stay in Love with God." Ten years ago living this "rule" looked a whole lot different from living it now. That was before I stepped into full-time motherhood. There is a very real sense in which I know this is the most Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-16992672024230688072015-12-07T22:21:00.002-06:002015-12-07T22:25:07.187-06:00When Love Comes Close
"Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel around himself" (John 13:3-5).
It seems so crazy to hold Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-86234877509532384502015-11-19T20:05:00.003-06:002015-11-19T20:05:42.610-06:00Prayers from a Broken Heart
I have a silver filigreed heart locket that I like to wear when I work in the Toddler room at preschool. Inside is a picture of my oldest son when he was a baby. I have found it is good distraction for little ones who miss their mommies, when conflict is imminent over a favorite toy, or when the day is moving too slow for toddlers who are ready and anxious for the Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-33255729183557149442015-10-23T21:55:00.001-05:002015-10-23T21:55:20.671-05:00Irrevocable
I love this scripture in the Bible--
". . . . for the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable" (Romans 11:29).
I like to let it wash all over me, to flow through my insides and wash clean the places of doubt. I hear the immense Mercy in those words. And Mercy is a word I have sat with a bit this week. It is where I want to live, and it is what I want to extend Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-2924817099559644892015-10-16T08:59:00.000-05:002015-10-16T08:59:56.955-05:00The Divine Serenade
Music is my true language. Not that I'm great at it. But it moves me. When nothing in my life makes sense, the right song can make sense out of me.
Over the last six months music has taken on a new dimension in my life. I've picked up a guitar I laid down years ago. Now words and chords have woven themselves around the vibrations of my heart, leaving songsSami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-88611051620561067242015-10-08T13:40:00.000-05:002015-10-08T13:40:25.723-05:00God Is In The Fire
Last week I was in the middle of Chapel telling the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego when God spoke to my heart. It kind of took my breath away. I was standing before our smallest children at the pre-school where I work, and I was choked up in the worst kind of way. I had gotten to the part where King Nebuchadnezzar had thrown the Hebrew children into the furnace Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-43958410757871172362015-09-28T16:27:00.000-05:002015-09-28T16:27:35.562-05:00Oh To See Beyond Packaging . . . .
One of my new favorite scriptures comes from Isaiah 11:1-4. It says, "A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the LORD shall rest on him, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-24103332378669739012015-09-25T09:03:00.002-05:002015-09-25T09:03:23.441-05:00The Shape of Grace
I'm a week out from leading our church's Women's Retreat. It was an amazing weekend. And it was certainly good to serve the Body of Christ in just that way. But it has taken me all week to process what the weekend meant for me.
In the very heart of serving I became acutely, poignantly aware of the way brokenness has shaped my own story. What I realize is that the doubt Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-34033710173432793072014-11-07T10:34:00.002-06:002014-11-07T10:34:56.558-06:00"The Kid"
Last weekend while Tim was away on a business trip, I picked up some movies from the library to watch with the boys. One of them was Disney's "The Kid," starring Bruce Willis. I had seen it quite a few years before, and I remembered thinking it was a good movie. When I saw it in the stacks I couldn't resist. So with the picnic blanket spread on the floor, popcorn and Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-60347850782805633302014-09-05T07:27:00.000-05:002014-09-05T07:27:29.038-05:00HOPE IS--
An opening,
a new morning,
beginning so quietly
that its dawn is
barely perceptible.
But the new morning
God calls forth
comes as certainly
as the darkness of the night.
Darkness,
no matter how black,
cannot stave off Day
when God has ordained it.
Hope rises,
quietly,
gently,
slowly unfolding
in the long night
of despair.
God will not be mocked;
The faint glimmer
of light
cannot be
Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-4909866360210286982014-08-22T14:57:00.000-05:002014-08-22T14:57:41.014-05:00How does your garden grow?
I sat in the living room of my grandmother's home, in the worn chair, with the soft yellow light of a lamp shining on us. It was my time alone with my grandma. In those minutes ticking by so quickly, while boys and husband and all other relatives were occupied, I sat with her and poured myself out. I told her of the gnawing sadness. I tried to put words around it, the Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-17817428909387507592014-06-06T08:31:00.000-05:002014-06-06T08:31:22.069-05:00Unraveled
The things I least want to write about are the things I most need to write about.
Ok, I said it.
A few weeks ago we had our annual women's retreat for our church where I got to be the speaker. Because of unforeseen scheduling conflicts I didn't think it was going to make. But through an extraordinary door of Grace our group was able to attend with the number we had registered.&Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-46158940832234833772014-05-07T15:09:00.000-05:002014-05-07T15:09:00.096-05:00Holy Plantings
Last year during spring break we spread mulch. We began at our house and then went to the home of Tim's sister and brother-in-law. Bill noticed that we needed something in the bare corner by our garage where we pulled out a dead bush. He pulled out a couple of plants from his flower bed and urged us to plant them in the bare space. He said it would grow without much Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-19865957987259839762014-04-28T21:44:00.000-05:002014-04-28T21:44:45.647-05:00Courageous Enough to Stand in the Place Where You Are
It feels like I have been living in the in-between for a long time. On the outside life moves forward, and I am situated in the needs of those around me. I spend my days attending to these needs, ordering my life by them, their collective journeys rendering mine as I nurture, feed, clothe, supervise, assist, counsel, help, hear, and love those in my household. It all hasSami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-62070162653516898472014-04-14T22:11:00.002-05:002014-04-14T22:11:48.030-05:00Hope in a Window Sill
I have a magnet sitting on my dresser mirror. It is a picture of a mama bird hovering over her baby birds. Their necks are extended toward her as they wait for her to drop food in. The caption says, "My God will meet all your needs (Philippians 4:19)." I remember the day this handmade magnet came into my possession. Our church was having a baby blessing Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-62857328766984313672014-03-12T11:38:00.000-05:002014-03-12T11:38:04.355-05:00Sacred Dust
It's been on my mind a lot lately--our last Ash Wednesday service. Not the one we just celebrated where my husband and I wrapped up our three sons like Ralphie's brother in "A Christmas Story," trudging out through our snow and ice-laden neighborhood to make it to church. I'm thinking of the last Ash Wednesday service I celebrated as campus minister three years ago. ISami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-38002625624067223802014-03-06T12:13:00.001-06:002014-03-06T12:13:44.194-06:00Snow Day
We finally got snow--the wonderful kind where you forget your 40-something
life with its demands and obligations and responsibilities. The kind that
invites the most reluctant hearted grown-up to release propriety, to get out
there and romp around a bit. The kind that reminds us what it is to play.
It was that kind of snow day.
We got out the sleds and spun ourselves Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-73685949246822746712014-02-07T20:27:00.001-06:002014-02-07T20:27:45.744-06:00TRUST
This is the word. TRUST. The one that will order my unfolding self in this year--heart, soul, mind, strength. I chose it--or rather it chose me--at our church's Covenant Renewal Service, the first Sunday of January. I told God this word was my commitment, an offering of self as gift to Giver, releasing everything so that God's Magnificent Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-22838200008871430792014-01-29T16:22:00.001-06:002014-01-29T16:22:13.132-06:00My Times Are In Your Hands
I have this collection of watches. I'm not sure why I keep them. It's not like I will use them. It's not like I can even wear them. Any watch I've ever worn that has hands eventually stops working way before it should. Never happens with digital watches, only the other kind. It is a mystery.
I can tell you the precise time when each one stopped, even if I Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-73657957718312618262014-01-14T12:27:00.000-06:002014-01-14T12:27:04.909-06:00Resilience
Sunday morning was a perfect morning for a run--about 35°, no wind, sun shine gentle on my face. To run in weather like that is bliss: not too hot, not too cold, but just the perfect balance of everything. Even if my body is not cooperating, I enjoy myself. And I find my heart and mind open in footfall rhythm; more of me is available to notice what most needs noticing.
On Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429087.post-12243941887995307162014-01-09T08:04:00.000-06:002014-01-09T08:04:22.856-06:00Welcome New Year
I didn't realize until I was well into my adult years that hospitality is one of my core values. Mostly because I never envisioned myself as the domestic type, and I always assumed that to be any good at offering hospitality a girl had to do it like Martha Stewart. I mean how can someone as unkempt as me offer anything that could ever put another at ease?
And then I began to Sami Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00555696849681310454noreply@blogger.com0