Ordinary Life

 Today my (bonus) son is 30.  I bracket him not because he is less to me, but because I am less to him.  He has a good mom - and she retains all rights to him as son.  To him, I've always just been Miss Kelly.  And to me, he has always shone as bright as the yellow sun.  When we first met, he was 3 and I was the inexperienced k4 teacher across the hall.  Then, for a season, I had the privilege to watch him grow into a poet soul.   I had very little experience with divorce or children of divorce before I became a step-mom.  I was 18 years old.  But I had been his teacher first and from day one, wished to be ' in the middle ' with and for him rather than leaning to either parents' side.  I didn't always get it right. I wasn't always operating with the full story, and the whole truth hasn't always been spoken of me.   But, I have always loved this young man, and I always, always will.   It is interesting to consider what kind of person would want others to feel

I recently let my friends at Patheos know I was turning " The Pretty Good Report " out to pasture.   To quote my teenage daughter's favorite anti-hero: " It's me, hi! I'm the problem, it's me. "  I first encountered Patheos as a young-ish blogger, many years ago, at a time when I was also making my faith and life my own.  I explored a lot of new ideas by the authors-of-then.  I met with fresh perspectives and thought-provoking challenges; it was a season of growth and growing up.   As a result, I held Patheos with kind regard and the chance to join their ranks seemed like a good reason - perhaps even motivation- to write.  But the opportunity to write for them arrived in a different, more rooted season.  It is curious to look back and see how tall we've changed, how thick our bark.  " Further up, further in " as the Unicorn was heard to say.  I realized along the way that this whole journey is a continual forward motion until we reach t

I was grieving something I couldn't explain, so I bought a sympathy card.  I didn't write in it for some time. Mailing was further delayed by a literal drenching rain.  But what kept it pinned to my bulletin board long after it dripped-dry was the emptiness that follows calling Grief by name.  And then one day, post-marked months before, my words arrived.  Here is what I said to me (and now, to you, if need be ):                                                                                                                               November 12, 2023 "It is okay if you don't have words for what and why you are grieving. It's okay if all you know is "I'm sad" or "I wish it ended differently." When your world has imploded -- or exploded, when your life has experienced a catastrophic event... it is okay to hold a new funeral for each new piece you pick up along the way...it is okay to mourn the pieces you cannot find or name. It is okay to

::: all hyperlinks contain secret messages :::  PEW, PEW, PEW The * old wooden pews in the Nazarene church I grew up in required a sort of sidewinding to maneuver one’s way out. But it wasn't just Nazarene pews that demanded this certain sort of leg-bumping-hymnal-rack-dodging-side-shuffle to reach the aisles. The pews in other churches worked much the same way - regardless of padding or denominational affiliation. This led many of us children to slide-scoot on our bottoms, down the pew towards the ornate end pieces that led to wide-stanced freedom. Sometimes, when long-winded adults stood like talking roadblocks in our way, one might high-step a hasty trot down the pew seats themselves, clearing stacks of hard-back hymnals and leather bound pages of the Good Book like so many hurdles in a race.  Joyful or no - it was a bad idea to make the horsey sounds out loud.  Other times,  we could escape by army-crawling  under the length of pews until we reached ** White Knuckle Row and

Today was a Fantastic Fours Day  1.) Potato People by James   2.) Mashed Potato People 3.) The Carnage  4.) Also, Tater Tots  Was it wrong that we fed the Potato People mashed potatoes before mashing them ?  Through a series of conversations, we ended up listening to Johnny Cash, too. But I’m not *judging me harshly because there was dancing, too!   *when a child shares their joys with you, let them* We did spiritualize it a little, and segued smoothly into our actual lesson about Noah and having patience (TopsyTurvy on @Right Now Media)  😊 Fulsom Prison Blues = shooting someone just to watch them die is the kind of behavior that led to The Flood Cry,Cry,Cry = clearly about a rooster going away after the sun goes down, crying(x3) because Peter denied Jesus 3 times  I Walk The Line = is there any more spiritual practice than keeping an eye on one’s heart, staying alert and walking the line ?  We didn’t listen to Ring of Fire but it has some obvious connections  We didn’t listen to I’ve

SINGLE  FILE LINES Welcome to my new sub-feature,  Single File Lines (by Kelly)  That’s me.  A Christian divorcee’ and single (again) mom to four fantastic children and a wonderful bonus son.  I’ve added this  "file"  to my regular  column,   “ The Pretty Good Report ” @ Patheos to share my SWF (single, with family) adventure.  When I married, over two decades ago,  I never pictured someday I’d be learning the ropes of modern  dating alongside my own children, and yet, here we all are,  mo’ awkward than a mohawk, monitoring each other's behavior online.  The truth is, I wasn’t single for any significant stretch of time the first go round. Fresh out of high school, working as a K4 teacher in the same small Christian school I had just graduated from, I married the father of a student in the neighboring K3  class. All before a year from graduation had passed.  Think back with me for just a moment, if you will.  I think about it often:  Graduated

 [caption id="attachment_572" align="aligncenter" width="712"] All Hallow: Everything Belongs To Him / Article and Photo by Kelly Brewer[/caption] Sugar Rush Weekend  For a little over a decade now, I’ve referred to the days surrounding Halloween as “Sugar Rush Weekend” not only for the inevitable  * plastic pumpkins overflowing with fun-sized cand y, but also for the two regulation birthday cakes due after the last car trunk or house has been visited. Today is Halloween. All Saints Eve Twenty-one years ago, my son was born on All Saints Day . (Tomorrow) Thirteen years ago, my daughter was born on All Souls’ Day . (Two days from now)  This holiday season has long been on our family radar for more than costume parties and pumpkins. I named my children with purpose and the significance of the days they were born are of special  interest to me, too.  Somewhere along the line, I had a fuzzy misconception that All Saints and All Souls days, as well as  Dia de