Monthly Archives: October 2026

In the Stillness…

How many times have you faced something head-on, giving it everything you had? Maybe it caught you by surprise. Maybe you saw it coming and dreaded the inevitable. Either way, you knew you had no choice but to press on.

Then life happened.

The busyness of everyday living got in the way. You’re worn out up to your eyeballs in obligations. One more thing could send you over the edge.

Ever been there?

Yeah, me too. More times than I care to admit.

So what gets you through the next day? The next project? The next challenge? Determination? Aspirations? A positive outlook? Encouragement from family and friends? Prayer?

Have you ever felt like you had nothing left to give anyone, let alone one more thing? That’s what it feels like to run on empty.

Maybe you need a refill. A power surge.

When you’ve poured yourself into others and feel completely spent, sometimes it’s time to pause, grow still, and be refreshed — even if that means stepping away from the demands of life for a little while.

There are times I simply need space to breathe. Maybe it’s soaking in a warm tub, enjoying a Swedish massage (sorry, no deep-tissue massage for me), sitting by the ocean, or relaxing in one of those infrared saunas. Yeah, buddy! But as nice as those are, they only go so far.

As a Christian, being still before the Lord isn’t always easy for me. My mind tends to race with everything that needs to be done. But when I come before Him and simply stay awhile, I leave refreshed, refueled, and re-fired. Sometimes that’s sitting in the car talking to the Lord or listening to a worship song. Sometimes it’s a short walk outside while praying. And sometimes it’s sitting on my backyard swing while the birds chirp and my mind finally slows down. In the stillness, I’m reminded I don’t have to carry everything on my own.

“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

What does stillness look like for you? How do you regroup, recharge, and find the strength to face another day?

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Filed under Christian Living, Devotional

Three Gunmen and an Ordinary Morning

Ever wake up expecting an ordinary day, with everything going according to plan? Yeah, me too. But that workday was anything but ordinary…

After several months of working the drive-thru window at my new banking job in the 1990s, I looked forward to working the inside lobby. I retrieved my cash box and set up my drawer as I did on any other day, except that I was stationed alongside my manager and friend, Judy, who had fifteen years of experience in the industry. Once all bank tellers were set up with their cash drawers and supplies, our security guard, Victor, unlocked the front doors and opened for business. Because it was the beginning of the week, I felt confident the day would go by fairly smoothly.

After assisting a couple of customers with their transactions, I was startled by a commotion to my far left. I glanced over just in time to see a masked man come up behind Victor and shove him against the counter. Before Victor could react, the masked man snatched the gun from Victor’s holster. It was like a surreal scene from a horror flick, as he pressed the gun against Victor’s spine and ordered him not to move or turn around. Before I could process what was happening, another gunman barreled past me from my right, a stocking pulled over his face, shouting obscenities and threatening to “pop” anyone who moved!

Another hooded gunman appeared, waving his rifle, shoving customers and employees along the wall, and yelling at them to drop down and not move. Staring in disbelief and shock, as if frozen in time, the tellers behind the counters stood with their hands in the air. As thoughts reeled in my mind, I hardly noticed that my hand was slowly inching out, attempting to set off a silent alarm hidden under the counter, inches from me. Out of nowhere, one of the gunmen jumped on top of my counter, glaring, his gun pointed at me. He growled, “You! Down, now. Or I’ll pop you!”

I was going to faint on the spot at best or be shot to smithereens at worst. Thank the good Lord, I still had some control of my faculties and complied, dropping to my knees with my head down, all the while praying. Judy was not so lucky.

The gunman on my counter began ordering her to climb over the counter and go into the vault with him. One of the other gunmen already held Victor and the commercial teller with his gun pointed in their faces while they waited for the vault to be unlocked. He became impatient with Judy and proceeded to pull on her arm, attempting to drag her up and over the counter. As she struggled to raise her leg to climb, she stumbled back. He jumped down, cursing her for moving slowly and pistol-whipped her. He proceeded to push her toward the vault with the others. (Yes, my head was up and I was peeking.) Once the vault was unlocked, one could only imagine what was taking place inside.

One of the gunmen stood by the front door, holding everyone at bay, spewing profanities and waving his gun back and forth. After what seemed like an eternity, the two gunmen ran out from the vault, tossing money bags to their partner by the exit. They ordered everyone to stay down as they scurried out the front door. After the ruckus, we began to stir and rise from our positions. Peering out the windows, we noticed the police were already on the scene (an alarm had indeed gone off), and they were in hot pursuit of the bank robbers, who apparently had jumped into a getaway car. Instantly, I thought of Judy and the rest who had gone into the vault. They were still inside! Were they hurt? Still alive? I shuddered to think.

As I quickly approached the vault, I heard sobbing, and my heart dropped! All three employees were lying face down on the ground. But the sight of Judy, face down with blood glistening from a gash on her forehead, stunned me. A sob escaped me as I called her name. I was relieved to discover that when I called out, they all responded by sitting up. They were simply waiting for one of us from the outside to come and get them. Upon examining Judy’s head, we knew her outer wounds would heal. But one never knows about the turmoil that goes on inside.

We hugged one another and let the tears flow freely.

After the police had interviewed everyone, we were allowed to call family members to come and pick us up. When my husband came for me, I was still trembling and immediately crumpled into the safety of his arms. I couldn’t wait to leave, go home, and hug my kids.

Recovery from trauma is a process. Most of us were shaken up for quite some time after that ordeal and needed counseling. Some even quit their banking jobs to seek employment elsewhere. As for me, that moment in time would forever be etched in my memory.

Days after the incident, while on my lunch break at a fast-food chicken joint, an outraged customer began verbally attacking one of the employees over an incorrect order. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and my nerves felt like pins and needles. I left my food and hurried out the door.

Reflecting on it all, I realize you can be “busy as usual” with the mundane things in life, and at a moment’s notice your world can turn upside down.

Judy and I are still friends, more than thirty years after that day. Although she lives in Florida, she visits Texas about once a year, and we make time to catch up. Seeing her again this fall reminds me of what we went through that day and how grateful I am that our friendship has lasted long after we left our banking days.

Looking back, I’m thankful we made it through that frightening experience. I’m also reminded of how we sometimes discover strength we didn’t know we had, and how much the people who share those difficult moments with us can mean.

Judy & me, fall of 2026.
Some friendships outlast the hardest days.

Have you ever experienced an unexpected event that changed your perspective on life? If you’re comfortable sharing, I’d love to hear your story.

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Filed under life's lessons, Personal Essays

Somewhere Between Summer and Winter

I suppose that’s where I find myself these days, somewhere between summer and winter.

I’m no longer the woman I was when life felt like an endless summer, when there was always another child to raise, another goal to chase, another hill to climb.

But I’m not ready for winter either.

Maybe that’s what October is trying to teach me. There is beauty in the season between seasons, just as there is beauty in every season of life.

We don’t always recognize that we’re entering a new season until we’re already there. Sometimes we spend so much time preparing for the next one that we forget to appreciate the one we’re actually living.

I’ve done that more times than I care to admit, looking ahead, wondering what was coming next, instead of pausing long enough to notice what was happening right in front of me.

Perhaps that’s what I’m learning now. I don’t have to have all the answers about what comes next. I don’t need to rush toward the next chapter simply because the current one is changing.

I can pause here.
I can look around.
I can be grateful.

Summer had its purpose. Winter will have its purpose, too. But October reminds me that this season deserves to be noticed, embraced, and lived fully, not just endured on the way to something else.

Maybe that’s why I find something comforting about the changing leaves. They don’t fight the change. They don’t cling to what they were. They simply let go when the time comes.

There is something beautiful about that kind of trust.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NIV)

Somewhere between summer and winter, I think I’m learning that the in-between isn’t something to hurry through.

It is a season of its own.

And maybe, just maybe, it is one worth savoring.


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Filed under Personal

More Than a Decade Later

Sooo, my memoir has been out for more than a decade now, and is still finding new readers. A revised edition followed a year after the original, and somehow the book keeps reaching people who have never read my story.

The Spanish edition is coming out later this year, and I’m still catching my breath over that one. A new language. New readers. New conversations. More details coming soon!

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of signing copies of Running in Heels at the Arts & Crafts Festival at Bruno Winery. I was there last year too, and every reader who bought a copy was discovering the book for the first time.

Once again, my daughter joined me, showcasing her artwork alongside my memoir. She sold a couple of beautiful paintings, and watching people stop to admire the rest of her work was wonderful. Sharing these events with her is always a treat! (Curious where she shows up in my story? Turn to page 118!)

Meeting people face to face, surrounded by local artisans, handmade goods, and vineyard views was so much fun. Thank you to everyone who stopped by my table, and to Shawn and Misha of Bruno Winery for hosting such a welcoming day.

The fun didn’t stop there! A happy reader reached out to me. In December, a local book club will be reading my memoir, and they’ve invited me, the author, to join their discussion. I’m especially excited about this one. I love hearing what readers took away from my story and what surprised them. Nothing beats doing that with people who’ve actually read the book!

Maybe this old book still has a few miles left in those heels.

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Filed under Author Life

Critters and Chuckles: In Loving Memory of Mama’s Menagerie

After sharing some tender memories and deeper reflections lately, I thought it was time for a little laughter. Some of the funniest moments in our family stories come from the smallest (and furriest) members of the family.

I miss my mama.

One of the things I remember most about her was how she could laugh at herself. I mean, really laugh. The kind of laughter where, before you knew it, you were laughing right alongside her until tears filled your eyes.

Mama didn’t pretend to be perfect. She knew life was full of mistakes and mishaps, and instead of being embarrassed, she found a way to laugh. That was one of the gifts she gave me.

Before Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace was published, Mama gave me permission to include some of these stories. Naturally introverted, she was never one to seek the spotlight, but with family and close friends, her gentle humor came alive. She loved knowing that others might laugh along with her.

Mama had a special place in her heart for animals. She loved them deeply. Maybe a little too deeply.

Her intentions were always good, but somehow her animal adventures didn’t always turn out the way she hoped.

Looking back, those moments became some of our family’s funniest memories.

Grandpa had a saying for those times. He would shake his head, smile, and say they happened because of “plain lack of common sense.”

I share this excerpt from my memoir:

Mama’s Critters

Mama felt more at ease with animals. She had a tender heart for them and always wanted to care for them.

While cleaning a fish bowl, Mama inadvertently dumped all the goldfish down the drain. Gone, just like that.

Then there were the black guppies that Grandpa had bought her. Mama thought that guppies thrived in salt water, so, she sprinkled table salt in the fish bowl for them. Well, they did not thrive.

Alas, she soon discovered them floating on their backs.

Turtles naturally develop bubbles in their nostrils, but Mama thought hers had a cold. She put a few nose drops in each nostril to cure it, only to notice the unfortunate creature had drowned.

Someone gave Mama a beautiful canary. The bird sang expertly and sweetly, and Mama enjoyed feeding him from her hand. But one day, her feathered friend lay lifeless at the bottom of its cage with a bloated stomach.

Mama had fed the sweet thing to death.

Before they divorced, Daddy had given Mama three lovely colorful parakeets. She sometimes let them out of their cage for exercise. They’d fly around the room and return to their cage, until someone forgot to close the windows one morning.

As they flew away, one by one, Mama watched on helplessly.

Guess who had forgotten to shut those windows?

Even in adulthood, Mama’s love for animals continued to lead to a comedy of errors.

Pre-teen Willie had a pet mouse named Pee Wee and kept him in a cage. The white, soft creature had bulging, pink eyes. After they placed Willie in a boy’s home, Mama had the sole responsibility of caring for his furry friend.

When it was time to clean Pee Wee’s cage, she first needed to get the critter out. Not an easy task. Pee Wee ran in circles.

When Mama grabbed him, the frightened mouse continued to wiggle and squirm in her hands. Determined to keep him from escaping, Mama held onto him firmly.

As she coaxed him and stroked his head, at last he calmed.

She then got the shock of her life when she realized that she had talked to and petted one poor, dead mouse.

When I think about Mama now, I don’t just think about the difficult times we lived through together. More and more, I remember her laughter.

Those are the memories that make me smile.

Her pets may not have always fared well, but there was never any doubt they were loved.

And that was Mama.

Sometimes the moments we laugh about years later become the memories we treasure most.

One of my greatest joys was making Mama smile. Today, I know she’s with the Lord, wearing the biggest smile of all and laughing that unforgettable laugh. I can almost hear her saying, “Go ahead, Mary … tell them.”

“A cheerful heart is good medicine.” —Proverbs 17:22

Do you have a family member whose funny mishaps still make you smile years later? I’d love to hear one of your favorite memories in the comments.

Mama is about to chow down on a whole Fried Red Snapper!
But before she does, she says, “Poor fish.” And then she asks, ” Where do I start?!”

Mama and our orange tabby, Rascal, were best of friends!

Dear Readers:

A birthday in heaven deserves a little extra love. A couple of years ago, on what would have been Mama’s birthday, I wrote her a letter. If you’d like to read it, you can find it here:

[Happy Birthday, Mama! 10/10/34 – 5/14/23]

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Filed under family, Memoir