lynn-guistics

Several years ago, I was invited to compose an article on the topic of love for inclusion in our church’s Christmas newsletter. I immediately accepted this invitation, certain that writing about love would be an easy enough task. After all, I am quite an authority on the subject! I adore my family, I cherish my friends, and I am devoted to my church. I am mad about Nutella and Italian food, I am partial to the color turquoise, and I have a fondness for most any genre of music (excluding heavy metal, of course, as it hurts my head). I delight in our dog (most of the time), I am enraptured by the beauty of creation, and I have a deep affection for books, especially mystery novels. Given my clearly exceptional understanding of its meaning, how difficult could an article about love possibly be? The answer to that question became painfully obvious when I sat down and attempted to “wax poetic” about love within the context of the Christmas season, for it was then that I discovered I was in w

Through the ages, humor has been one tool that mankind has used to cope with the difficulties of life. So it's no wonder that our society has turned to humor to alleviate the stress accompanying the worldwide pandemic we now find ourselves enduring. Loads of funny memes have been floating around social media - the one appearing below gave me quite a good chuckle when I read it! But the truth is this: In spite of its challenges and difficulties, I stand grateful for the gift of 2020. For it has presented me with another year in this world to experience life; a year to... savor precious time with Mom before her passing, spend unexpected but invaluable hours with Gary and Jeffrey, enjoy the beauty of God's creation, and connect (and reconnect) with family and friends in new and creative ways, using platforms like FaceTime and Zoom. 2020 has blessed me with everything I have needed and more, and I have tried to be very intentional about sharing those blessings with others. 2020 has

My  sweet momma left this world today, soaring on eagle’s wings as she journeyed to a much better place. Impaired by chronic health challenges, Mom’s body simply failed her this time around. And while it is true that the last quarter of her life was fraught with medical difficulties, these difficulties did not define her. What really defined my mom was the way she responded to the obstacles she faced, and the character traits that God produced in her as she persevered. God molded Mom into someone so incredibly beautiful. Mom was love , personified. She extended that love, without condition, to all whom God placed in her path. Mom was also an encourager , every day striving to reassure and edify those around her. She was tenacious , confronting problems with a ferocity and strength that belied her tiny stature. And Mom was joyful – she could change the trajectory of someone’s day just by brandishing that beautiful smile and those gorgeous (and sometimes devilish!) blue eyes of hers. Wh

This is my sweet momma, beaming at me through one of the windows of the assisted living community in which she resides. Prior to the novel coronavirus pandemic, I was in the habit of visiting my mom almost daily, hoping my presence would buoy her spirits as she battles chronic health problems. But the coronavirus outbreak means that she and her neighbors are now under a stay-at-home order, and only those who are considered essential for the physical well-being of the residents are allowed into the complex. Striving to honor this vital but difficult order, many families are now relying on communication tools like FaceTime or Duo to maintain “face-to-face” contact with their loved ones. Neither are viable options for our family, mainly because Mom has always been… um… a bit technologically challenged. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen her answer the phone by picking up the TV remote, or respond to a computer pop-up message by shouting at it: “No, I don’t want to close 5 tabs

A recent trip to Galveston found Gary and me in a golf cart, tooling around the picturesque neighborhood of Sea Isle, enjoying a most beautiful day. As we traveled, I noticed that almost every home we passed was marked with a placard bearing the name given the dwelling by its current or a previous owner. Names posted to some homes were simple: “The Smith’s Home,” “The Jones’ Place,” and even one merely labeled, “Beach House.” Others were more creative, perhaps chosen deliberately to describe the personalities of the homes themselves, or the people residing there. The home dubbed “Margaritaville” looked as though it had been plucked from the pages of its namesake website. Tropical blues, corals, greens and yellows adorned the house’s exterior, and an outdoor pool and bar beckoned visitors to come in and stay awhile. My mind envisioned gregarious owners living within those walls - fun and festive people, always ready for a good time! My very favorite signpost, the one I considered most i