What Matters: Learning From the Omissions {www.boldlytanya.com}

What Matters: Learning From the Omissions

Dec 12th, 2016

Then there was the year we received a few newsprint wrapped packages tied with red yarn. I remember asking why the paper wasn’t Christmasy. Inside each package was the discarded toy of some other child, rewrapped and presented to us as treasure. The one with my name contained a doll. Her face was smudged with dirt, and her hair was cut at jagged angles. One eyelid was stuck open. I hated her and her simple stained dress. But she was given especially to me. I imagined my grandma painstakingly choosing her and figured she was the best offering. So I held the abomination close, said my thanks, and tried to love her as best I could.

Joy :: Five Minute Friday {www.boldlytanya.com}

Joy :: Five Minute Friday

Dec 9th, 2016

Every time I get frustrated or down or feel defeated, I always get that song from children’s church stuck in my head, “The joy of the Lo-o-o-ord is my strength.” I sing through each verse, especially the Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha one. Then I cheer up, dig in, and do what it is I need to do or at least try harder.

I knew the verse inspiring this song came from Nehemiah, one of my favorite books, but in my study of it today, I learned something new and awesome. When taken in context, this phrase evokes a more powerful meaning than can be expressed through sing-songy laughing.

A Christmas Confession (and playlist) {ww.boldlytanya.com}

A Christmas Confession (and Playlist)

Dec 5th, 2016

I abhor all things sappy. I am not a hugger or a cryer. I don’t watch movies or read books that make me feel things (except Harry Potter, of course.) I am a cold hearted woman who enjoys silence and solitude. But there is one small concession I am willing to make that will potential destroy my ice queen reputation. I can no longer hide…

Unwrapped: The Gift of Brokenness {www.boldlytanya.com}

Unwrapped: The gift of Brokenness

Dec 4th, 2016

“I know what you are going to say, and I don’t want to hear it,” my husband said on the other end of the line. I had interrupted his golf game with unwelcome news.

“I don’t want it, either, but I don’t have a choice,” I said, hanging up.

Eight months later, the nurses shuffled me into a room and started hooking up the monitors. The machine charted my contractions like perfect mountain tops against a graphical horizon. They were predictable and strong. It was time to meet our baby girl.

We knew I would have a c-section. As the procedure began, my doctor provided a play by play. “Oh look! I see a pair of feet!” Then, “Have you ever seen a tush so cute!”

Then silence.

Weighty, breath stealing silence and the certainty of something gone wrong.

Blessed Women of Faith by Linda Guteres {www.boldlytanya.com}

Blessed Women of Faith

Nov 28th, 2016

As her mind tumbled like a marble in a box, she felt it. She stopped and put her hand to her stomach. It was like the flutter of a butterfly’s wing in her belly. What had she eaten? Was she becoming ill? The feeling passed as she began to tackle the household chores.

Weeks passed and then the feeling came again. It was stronger now and lasted longer. Her mind began to race and then it struck her, could she be pregnant?