When You've Lived Nine Lives in a Week


No one can know the week I have had...and I mean literally, no one can know.

Clergy confidentiality is alive and well.

I am fine with telling all my business, and each of my children have always understood and accepted our family's policy of transparency. Even the prodigals "get it"...they are okay with The Preacher and I keeping no secrets...we don't share details, but we don't keep secrets.

So if you want to know my business, just ask me.

But my family has another policy...the whole family. I am so proud (in that healthy-proud sort of way) that my family as a rule will not casually discuss other people, unless we are speaking well of them.

Like, seriously. We don't. We. Just. Don't.

Not because we are necessarily that holy. To tell you the truth, we simply take healthy pride in our service to the Bride. Honoring others is a fabulous lifestyle, one that works for us. God favors us because of it...not because we've earned His favor (no one but Christ has ever earned anything), but because it is His character and nature to honor those who love His bride enough to serve her...even behind closed doors, even in every day conversation.

If you haven't been living by the same culture of honor, I encourage you to try it. It is, if nothing else, just a lovely, low drama way to live.

There have been splashes of beauty, even in what has been a hellacious week...





...this boy...and this girl...our church's senior graduates...






....this day...








...business is good...






...meals like this...made from scratch...





...and this...I eat like this usually once every day, if not every meal. Don't be a hater. I am not a health food nazi...it's just so yummy!





...also once a day, most days...I promise it is so so good.





My Preacher cut a hole in his truck this week...





...which gave me great pause...





...but the man has mad skills...




...and can do anything g...


...and ain't nothin' hottern' that. Just sayin'. A lotta years of marriage, a little middle age spread, but he still makes me fan myself when he does any of the following: works with his hands - preaches - plays drums - plays with his grand babies - sings "hey, mamma rock me" to me.





...my peonies...





...and hydrangea...


Here's to a boatload of grace poured on my life this week, and even more hope for a much better week next week.

Glad this one's over, I won't lie.



Grace and Peace,

Sheila Atchley



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