Chapter One: Five Days at Whispering Oaks Ridge

Adventures with Grandma and Grandad

A Note to the Reader

From time to time, Chase, a beautiful yellow Labrador, came to stay with Grandma and Grandad while his family was away, and wherever Chase went, adventures had a curious way of finding him.

After each day’s escapades, he somehow managed to write a letter home to Mom, Dad, and Nick, faithfully reporting everything that had happened—or at least, everything as Chase remembered it.

No one ever actually saw him holding a pen. But judging by the stories, the wagging tail, and the occasional muddy paw print, there seems little doubt these letters are his.

We have gathered them here just as they were found. We hope they make you smile.

And so, we begin…

It’s so good to return to the meadows at Whispering Oaks Ridge

Day One — I Made It to the Ranch!

Dear Mom, Dad, and Nick,

Well… you disappeared this morning with all the baseball gear, and before I knew it, Grandad was saying, “Come on, Chase!”

Now, I must tell you, climbing into the back seat of Grandad’s truck is no small accomplishment. That’s quite a stretch for a distinguished gentleman like me! The truck was packed to the brim, but they made me a cozy little spot where I could settle down for the ride.

The ride was… hmmm… a bit longer and bumpier than I would have preferred. I kept wondering, Where exactly are we going? Thankfully, Grandma stopped at HEB for groceries, which gave me a chance to stretch my legs and regroup.

Then it happened. We turned a corner, and I heard the familiar beep… beep of the farm gate opening.

And I knew.

WHISPERING OAKS RIDGE!

My tail started wagging before the truck had even stopped. Grandma took me straight over to the long grass. Ohhh, the wonderful smells! Every blade of grass seemed to have a story to tell. I even found my favorite spot to lift my leg. Let’s just say… that was a very satisfying moment. 😄

Dinner was served in my special ranch bowl, and Grandma even sprinkled a few bacon bits on top. You’d have been proud of me—I cleaned that bowl until it sparkled, then had a long, cool drink of water.

Later, the neighbors arrived in Nacho 1. I was SO happy to see them! I behaved like a proper gentleman—no jumping—but I may have quietly stolen a lick or two. They told me what a handsome boy I am. I accepted their compliments with great humility…and a wagging tail.

Bedtime was easy. I slept in Grandma and Grandad’s bedroom on my own comfy bed. I know the ranch rules: dogs do not sleep on people beds. Although… between us, when they leave the room, they don’t seem to mind if I hop up there for just a little while. 🤫 Don’t tell Grandma I told you!

I’m having a wonderful time here. I love Whispering Oaks Ridge, and Grandma and Grandad are taking very good care of me.

But I do miss my family.

Tomorrow, I’m looking forward to my three ranch walks. You simply cannot imagine the amount of sniffing that needs to be done around here. It’s serious business.

Have fun at baseball! I’ll keep an eye on the ranch for Grandma and Grandad.

Tail wags and wet-nose kisses,
Chase 🐾


Day Two — A Nose Full of Ranch Memories

Dear Mom, Dad, and Nick,

Greetings from Whispering Oaks Ridge!

Yesterday was another wonderful day, and I have some important adventures to report.

First of all… Grandma took me on THREE long walks! I know—you’d be impressed. You’ll be especially proud of me because I was on my very best behavior. I stayed right beside Grandma almost the whole time, matching her pace instead of trying to drag her across the county. She kept telling me what a good boy I was, and I have to admit… I rather enjoyed hearing that.

Now, don’t get the wrong idea. When Dad and I walk at Avery Ranch, it’s usually full speed ahead! Racing along is one of my favorite things. But Whispering Oaks Ridge has a completely different feel.

Everything seems slower here… quieter… more peaceful. It makes a fellow want to take his time. So I sniffed. And sniffed. And sniffed some more. Every flower, every cedar tree, every squirrel trail, every armadillo path, every deer footprint. There is an astonishing amount of information available when you have the right nose for the job.

Then… hold on a minute. Did I catch the scent of those baby foxes Grandma and Grandad keep talking about under the deck? My nose says, “Possibly.” The mystery continues.

After each walk, I enjoyed a long, cool drink of water, and every now and then a little treat appeared. I highly recommend this ranch service.

After our morning stroll, Grandma and Grandad sat on the porch drinking tea while I stretched out in the cool breeze. The birds sang, the wind chimes tinkled overhead, and I decided that doing absolutely nothing is actually a very worthwhile activity.

Later, Grandma and Grandad disappeared outside with the world’s loudest mower and an even noisier tractor. Honestly… I think they were trying to frighten every peaceful creature in the county. I wisely volunteered to stay indoors and guard the house.

Somebody had to.

Serious naps are needed when overseeing ranch security

After Walk Number Two, I took a serious nap on my comfy bed with my favorite cuddly toy tucked beside me. Quality sleep is an important part of ranch life.

Then something extraordinary happened.

On the glass back door was the strangest creature I’d ever seen. It had enormous eyes, extra-long antennae, and looked as though it had forgotten how to be a normal bug. I stared. It stared. Grandma took a picture and informed me it was called a cricket.

Well… if I’d been outside, I might have introduced myself.

Or eaten it. I’m not saying which.

Dinner was my usual meal, but Grandma quietly slipped me a few little pieces of bacon. Oh my goodness. I could have happily accepted another dozen, but apparently humans have strange rules about “enough.” Fortunately, she followed that up with my absolute favorite—a big juicy bone to chew while they watched television.

Now that’s how you end a day.

By bedtime, I was completely worn out, so I proudly led the bedtime parade to my crate. I haven’t slept there for ages, but it felt surprisingly cozy. I was asleep in no time… well, mostly asleep. Every so often, I’d hear mysterious animal noises outside the window and had to conduct a quick security inspection.

A guardian’s work is never truly done.

I hope you’re all having an amazing time at baseball.

And Mom…

Happy Birthday! 🎉

I wish I could give you one of my tail wags and a birthday kiss.

Until tomorrow…

With a wag, a woof, and a nose full of ranch memories,
Chase 🐾

Chief Sniffing Officer
Whispering Oaks Ranch Security


Day Three — The Great Lizard Incident

Dear Mom, Dad, and Nick,

Another beautiful day dawned at the ranch.

Grandma and Grandad settled onto the porch with their morning tea while I assumed my important position as Chief of Ranch Security. As I gazed down the driveway toward the farm gate, something caught my eye. It might have been absolutely nothing… but that’s exactly why a good security officer investigates every “maybe.”

Grandma agreed.

Off we went. Naturally, I had to stop every few feet to collect the latest scent reports. A squirrel had definitely been by. A deer too. Possibly an armadillo. Perhaps a possum or two. The oak trees seemed to have some secretive chatter going on, and the hawks were squawking overhead.

After a very thorough inspection, I am pleased to report that the gate was secure, the ranch was safe, and no suspicious characters had entered the premises.

Mission accomplished.

UGH! Sitting still for photos is not my fave activity!

When we reached the upper meadow, Grandma insisted I pose for a photograph. Honestly… humans.

“Sit nicely, Chase.”
“Look this way, Chase.”
“Don’t sniff the grass, Chase.”

I finally cooperated because she said you all would love seeing my handsome face. I suppose I can make that sacrifice for my family.

The rest of the morning was the same old, same old. I supervised from inside while Grandma and Grandad worked outdoors with their noisy ranch contraptions. Grandad spent quite a while trying to convince Red Ripper to restart after only a few laps of grass cutting. Personally, I think Red Ripper simply decided it was too hot to work and went on strike.

Grandma, meanwhile, was zipping around the ranch in the Ranger, collecting branches and debris. That vehicle is a tough ranch hand, but it has the funniest horn—it moos like a cow! Honestly… I never know what goes on around here.

Just when things finally quieted down enough for a respectable afternoon nap, that deafening floor inhaler of dirt, dust, and dog hair made its obnoxious appearance. Oooh… my poor ears. Apparently, peace and quiet are not guaranteed at Whispering Oaks Ridge.

Eventually everyone settled down, and I was beginning to think Walk Number Two had been canceled, which seemed highly unfair.

But then… Grandma reached for my leash.

Oh, joy!

We headed toward the partially mown meadow. Everything was perfect.

Until…

I have a confession. Please don’t be too disappointed in me.

You know how much I love the wildlife here. I see the deer, hear the foxes, smell the squirrels, and although every fiber of my doggy DNA tells me to chase them, I remember this is their home too. So I restrain myself.

Usually.

As we rounded the corner of the deck near the cactus… there he was.

The tiny green lizard.

You may remember me mentioning him before. He’s been taunting me all week. He races along the porch railing like he owns the place. Sometimes he pauses, puffs out his little pink throat as though he’s blowing bubble gum, and stares at me with that smug little lizard grin. I’ve ignored him with remarkable self-control.

That is… until yesterday.

There he was, standing in the ground cover, practically waving at me. I’m quite certain he laughed.

Then—and I’m not making this up—he stuck out his tongue.

That was it.

My brain disconnected. Every sensible thought vanished. I launched forward like a rocket, completely forgetting that Grandma was attached to the other end of my leash.

“CHASE!”

I heard her. I truly did. And to be fair, that IS my name. But at that precise moment, I had become an elite reptile capture specialist.

The chase lasted approximately one second. The lizard disappeared faster than a baseball leaving Nick’s bat.

Epic Lizard Mission: Failed.

When I finally came to my senses, I realized I had dragged poor Grandma right into those thorny weeds. She tightened my leash, brushed a few prickly things off her legs, and examined the hand clenching my leash. She sighed deeply, looked at her broken fingernail, and muttered one of those words I’ve only ever heard when tractors won’t start.

Oops.

Without speaking, she calmly took me inside and announced that Walk Number Two had come to an early conclusion. I felt quite bad about the whole thing, so I humbly accepted the consequences and maintained a low profile—on my bed.

Thankfully, Grandma has a very forgiving heart. Before long, I had completely redeemed myself, earned a treat, and later we enjoyed a nice third walk together.

I’d say we’re even.

The evening was wonderful. Some neighbors came over for happy hour, and I was absolutely in my element. I greeted everyone politely, accepted all compliments with dignity, and heard many kind remarks about my beautiful blond fur and what a well-behaved, gentle doggie I am.

Well… I didn’t want to let my family down.

I just wish you were here too.

Nick, I hope baseball is going well. I’m cheering for you from the ranch.

After our visitors headed home, we all watched a little television, and once again I was the first one to call it a night. Being Chief of Ranch Security is exhausting work.

All is well as we begin Day Four here at the ranch.

Love and tail wags,
Chase 🐾

Chief of Ranch Security
Senior Lizard Patrol Officer (currently 0–1)
Professional Treat Inspector
and Forever Your Faithful Boy ❤️


Day Four — Meet Bubble Gum Breath

Dear Mom, Dad, and Nick,

Another day at the ranch… and another report from Whispering Oaks Ridge’s Chief of Ranch Security.

The morning began with my usual patrol down the driveway to the farm gate. Everything was exactly as it should be. No suspicious visitors. I made sure to inspect every familiar scent on the way back, especially around the spot where that fox family likes to hang out. Naturally, I freshened up the area with a few well-placed “Chase was here” messages of my own.

As we reached the top of the hill, I heard something rustling near the rock wall. Grandma agreed an investigation was in order. I sniffed every inch of that wall but couldn’t find a thing. We think it may have been one of those giant Texas millipedes. Probably heard me coming and wisely disappeared. They’re not very attractive, but Grandma says they’re harmless.

With the property declared secure, we joined Grandad on the porch to relax and watch the hummingbirds. By the way… there was still no sign of my green nemesis.

Later, I enjoyed a well-earned nap while Grandma spent far too much time playing with that glowing gizmo she carries around. I gave her a gentle nudge to distract her. She got the message and gave me a good scratch behind the ears. Humans really are trainable.

Then came the biggest event of the day…

Bubble Gum Breath.

My green nemesis. Bubble Gum Breath.

There he was, perched on the far end of the porch railing like he owned the place.

We locked eyes.

I chose the high road… mostly because Grandma had a firm grip on my leash.

Then the little rascal started doing those ridiculous lizard push-ups and flicking his tail. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Behave yourself, I thought. Or you’re toast.

Instead of backing down, Bubble Gum Breath scampered along the railing toward me, looking straight at me with that smug little grin. Then he puffed out his bright pink throat into one of those bubble displays.

That did it.

I lunged.

Before I could say “lizard breath,” he vanished. Poof! Gone.

Just call me “Wedge Head”.

I nearly wedged my head between the porch rails trying to figure out where he’d gone. Grandma laughed and said he was clinging to the wall just below where I could see him.

She insists he’s only playing hide-and-seek.

Ummm… I’m not buying it.

At this point, I’m convinced he’s orchestrating the whole thing just to see me lose my composure.

One day, if Grandma accidentally forgets to hold my leash…

Well…

Let’s just say Bubble Gum Breath might receive a proper Labrador education.

Later, I went for another truck ride with Grandma and Grandad. Riding isn’t exactly my favorite activity, but it beats staying home alone. Grandma shopped while Grandad and I enjoyed the nice cool air conditioning and waited patiently.

Back at the ranch, we had dinner, watched a little television, and settled in for the night. I was sleeping wonderfully until Grandad had the audacity to switch on the lights at the crack of dawn. Honestly… a dog needs his beauty sleep! I suppose I’ll catch up on my naps today.

By the way… when are you coming home?

I’m being a very good boy, and Grandma and Grandad are taking excellent care of me, but I miss my favorite people very much. I hear we may be heading back to Austin tomorrow, so hopefully it won’t be long now.

I can’t wait to see all three of you. Until then, I’ll keep Grandma and Grandad safe… and keep one eye out for Bubble Gum Breath.

Until tomorrow…

Your ever-loving, faithful furry boy,
Chase 🐾

Chief of Ranch Security
Lizard Patrol Officer — Record: 0–2


Day Five — Confessions of a Security Chief

Dear Mom, Dad, and Nick,

I once heard a human say confession is good for the soul. I’m going to see if that’s true. Here goes.

Yesterday, I must confess, I was so befuddled that I forgot I was Chief of Ranch Security. I neglected my duties—and even my business—down at the gate.

The reason?

Bubblegum Breath.

That pesky green lizard has become my greatest nemesis. Or perhaps my weirdest playmate? I’m honestly not sure which. Either way, I am obsessed with him. Grrr!

The moment Grandma opened the front door, I hurried onto the porch, certain he would be waiting for me. Sure enough, there he was, lounging on the railing and looking far too pleased with himself. Annoyingly arrogant, actually.

I used to think Bubblegum Breath was simply minding his own business—just being a lizard and doing what lizzies do.

Not anymore.

After careful observation, I have concluded that he is not merely an eager participant but a shrewd instigator, and all his antics are carefully contrived to drive me insane. Grandma thinks he might simply be bored with the same old porch routine. I suppose it’s possible. Most of the day he gobbles up dead flies from Grandma’s fly zapper, which hardly sounds like an exciting life. She even suggested he might need a playmate.

Really?

If so, he plays to win at the expense of my good nature. I have a grand idea. He could go stick his tongue on the fly zapper.

Bubblegum Breath knows exactly what he’s doing. He waits until I notice him… then starts doing those ridiculous tiny push-ups. He wiggles his tail. He sticks out his tongue.

At meeeeee.

And then—this is the part that really gets me—he blows the most peculiar pink bubble, as though he’s chewing bubblegum just to mock me.

Today, he hit my last nerve. His disrespect and disdain got the better of me. I lost my cool. Each time he blew that pink thing, I charged straight at him with one goal in mind:

Burst his bubble.

But every single time, just as I was about to catch him, he vanished over the edge of the porch railing while I nearly wedged my entire head between the rails trying to reach him.

There may have been a little drooling involved as well.

No comment.

Grandma assured me this was “not my finest detective work,” but I prefer to think of it as persistent investigation. Then she reminded me that professional security officers cannot spend their entire shift chasing mischievous reptiles, no matter how tormenting they may be.

She’s probably right. So, somewhat embarrassed, I reluctantly returned to my official duties.

Checking to see if any sign of that fox family

I carefully inspected the deck, especially around the flowerpot where those adorable baby foxes were born a few months ago. Their scent has faded, but I checked thoroughly. A good security chief always scrutinizes an important location.

Next, I investigated the shed area where Grandad parks the ranch vehicles. He was busy covering them with giant tarpaulins because a storm was on the way. I sniffed all around the tractor and gave an extra-big snuffle underneath because apparently, a long time ago, a snake slithered out from under there and startled Grandad.

No snakes in sight—thank goodness. I’ve never seen one during my ranch visits, but one must remain vigilant for dangerous threats. I also surveyed the upper meadow and confirmed that everything farther down the driveway remained peaceful and secure.

Mission accomplished.

Later, Grandma and Grandad left for lunch, leaving me in charge of the ranch house. I was happy to accept the responsibility. I patrolled. I napped. I listened. I patrolled a little more. Then I napped again… always with one eye slightly open.

You never know when danger—or Bubblegum Breath—might appear.

When Grandma and Grandad returned, they were impressed and kept telling me what a good boy I was. I must admit… I loved hearing that.

But early that evening, something unexpected happened.

I noticed suitcases. Truck doors opening. Activity.

Something wasn’t right.

It seems Nick’s baseball tournament had ended in a loss, and you all decided to head home earlier than expected. That meant our ranch adventure was ending sooner than planned.

When I see those telltale signs of departure, I tend to freak out a little.

Now what?

I gave Grandma my absolute best Please don’t leave me behind look. She and Grandad assured me I was going with them, but I still had to make certain. I followed them everywhere like a shadow, just in case anyone forgot there was a Labrador involved in these travel arrangements.

Finally, my leash was attached and we were on the porch. I searched the railing for Bubblegum Breath, but there was no sign of the little fly gobbler. I caught his scent, though, so naturally I tugged on my leash to investigate. Grandma encouraged me to get into the truck instead.

She reminded me that back home in Austin, the old brown lizard still lives under the patio table. She also promised I would soon return to the ranch, where Bubblegum Breath would certainly be waiting to resume our legendary game of hide-and-seek—or burst-the-bubble.

More importantly, Grandma said we were going home to see Mom, Dad, and Nick.

Oh, goodie.

My family!

That changed everything.

I curled up in my cozy spot in the back seat of Grandad’s truck and rode home like the exceptionally good boy everyone says I am.

I was happy to see the backyard in Austin. No encounter with the brown lizard, although… did I just catch sight of his tail disappearing under the patio table?

I was even happier when, extremely late that evening, you all finally walked through the door.

Home with you feels wonderful.

Life is pretty cushy back at Tripp Towers. There’s a security system here that does a fairly decent job, so my professional services aren’t required around the clock. It’s a real dog’s life. Most of the time, I can simply chillax.

But I must admit…

I’ll miss the peaceful ranch. I’ll miss my security patrols and the fox scents. I’ll miss the morning walks with Grandma.

And yes… I’ll even miss charging at that cheeky little Bubblegum Breath.

Although next time, I am definitely going to catch him.

Until the next ranch adventure…

Your ever-loving, faithful furry boy,
Chase 🐾

Chief of Ranch Security
Bubblegum Breath Surveillance Division
Official Record: 0–3

P.S. Thanks for listening to my confession. I can confirm that my soul really does feel much lighter and happier now.


Epilogue:  A Note from Grandma

Dear Chandra, Dany and Nick,

We thought you’d enjoy one last little ranch update.  Today, while Grandad and I were quietly eating lunch on the porch, guess who appeared?

Bubblegum Breath.  Right on cue.

He climbed onto the porch rail, puffed out his famous pink bubble, did several tiny push-ups, and looked all around…we couldn’t help wondering if he was looking for Chase.

Then, to our complete surprise…out scampered an even smaller green anole.

A tiny version of Bubblegum Breath!

Same bright green suit.
Same inquisitive little eyes.
Same miniature push-ups.

We looked at each other and burst out laughing.  Apparently Bubblegum Breath has an apprentice. We couldn’t help imagining him saying,

“No sign of the big yellow fellow today…
I suppose I’ll start training you instead.”

Somehow the porch felt strangely quiet without Chase racing over to investigate, but something tells us this isn’t the end of the story. Bubblegum Breath will keep practicing. Mini-Me will keep learning.

And one day, when the farm gate beeps and a certain happy-go-lucky yellow Lab bounds onto the porch … the game will begin all over again.

Love,
Grandma & Grandad

….to be continued.

Baseball is More than a Game

I’ve been around baseball a very long time. I’ve watched my husband play in a league, cheered on our sons, served as team mom as Chuck coached, celebrated our grandsons through Little League, high school, travel ball, and one grandson who was selected to play for the Marysville Gold Sox, a wood bat collegiate league for two summers. Just this week, one of our grandsons, who coaches his own boys, is headed to State with his team of 10 years-olds. 

You could say that baseball has been woven through the fabric of our family’s life for decades and during those years I have learned to appreciate a few things about baseball, and life in general.  

These past few days were spent at a grandson’s 17U baseball tournament where I had time for some reflection. Some of you may consider a noisy sports complex a strange environment for deep thoughts. And I would agree since my deepest thinking generally occurs somewhere more serene, often while I am alone and immersed in nature.

But that’s the beauty of life, isn’t it? It can surprise you. Life is a great teacher, and I have found that any setting becomes a classroom if the student is willing to learn. Yes, even a baseball diamond.

 I have learned many lessons in my life. Some of them were enjoyable, some not so much, a few almost devastated me, but all were memorable as I believe the Lord used those circumstances to mold me into who I am today, using a lifetime of encounters, experiences, successes ─ and struggles.  

Especially the struggles.

Which brings me back to baseball and how we love to celebrate victories. We cheer loudly for the base hits, the strikes, the umpire’s good calls, the diving catches, and we leap to our feet wildly applauding for that walk-off hit. We smile as we film the team, their championship faces and the tournament cup. Parents and players alike celebrate the wins at the team dinner. Camaraderie is evident. The coaches are happy. We post the wins on social media. These are the highlights to remember for years to come. 

But yesterday looked different. 

I am choosing be raw and real. It was a miserably hot and humid day to play baseball in Dallas. Unrelenting heat beat down on the field all day. Two games, two losses. The first scoreboard glared 0─9. It was a veritable beating. The next game’s score was not as bad but one more loss made it brutal. No comebacks. No heroics. No celebration. Just the long ride home.

A reminder. Sometimes life hands you a game you’d rather forget.

The tournament ended in disappointment and let’s not pretend it didn’t hurt. It did. The pain may linger today. Losing hurts. Frustration is real and confidence can take a real hit (pardon the pun). One player may question his ability, another may be mad at himself, one may be embarrassed, another may wonder if he belongs on the team. There’s so much to process. It needs time.

Those are the battles that don’t show up on the scoreboard. Losing stirs a range of emotions that are a natural part of being human. Those feelings are real, and it’s okay to feel them and express them, but also let us (fan, player, parent and coach) acknowledge that great athletes aren’t really defined by their best game.

They’re revealed by how they respond to their hardest one. And isn’t it the truth that sometimes the struggle produces the biggest win?

The scoreboard records the outcome. Life records the lesson.

Sometimes we win and sometimes we learn. The scoreboard only tells us who won and who lost. It tells us what happened but not what is happening inside the players where character is formed. And character matters.

Neither does it acknowledge who offered encouragement instead of criticism. It doesn’t praise those in the dugout not playing who selflessly encourage their team mates. It doesn’t show the player who accepted responsibility and vowed to work harder at honing his skills. It can’t measure the player’s resilience, humility, persistence or courage. Those are the victories no scoreboard can record.

On the other hand, life is always teaching us if we are willing to learn. Sometimes the lessons are wrapped in victory, but often they arrive disguised in the agony of defeat. Either way, the important thing to remember is this. The door to the classroom of learning is always open regardless of the location.

Success is not always about winning. When we lose, perhaps the most helpful question to ask is “What did we learn?” Because character is not only built by successful outcomes. It’s shaped in moments we’d rather forget. It is so often forged during our most intense struggles.

Soon, these young men will pick up their gloves again. They’ll take up their positions on the field. They’ll step up to the plate, and they’ll swing their bat. Because they love the game.

And they will do it despite the hardships of yesterday because one game, or even one season, never defines a player. Just as one setback never defines a life.

Sometimes we win. Sometimes we learn from the experience. Every time we have the opportunity to grow. Baseball may be the name of the game, but life has always been the greater classroom. May we strive to play both with passion, humility, gratitude, perseverance and hearts that honor God.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.
─Colossians 3:23

Photo Credit to a Baseball Mom

The Sacred Practice of Wonder: Rediscovering Awe in Everyday Life

 

There are moments in life that stop us in our tracks: a brilliant sunset painted across the evening sky, a hummingbird hovering just long enough to be noticed, a deer stepping quietly from the trees, a child’s laughter ringing through the air, or a field of wildflowers blooming where no one planted them.

For a brief moment, we pause. We stare. We smile. And we feel something difficult to express.

Wonder.

I have come to believe that wonder is one of God’s greatest gifts—not because it changes the world around us, but because it changes us.

Wonder awakens us. It pulls us out of the fog of schedules, responsibilities, and endless to-do lists. It calls us back to the present moment and invites us to truly see what has been there all along.

As children, wonder comes naturally. A butterfly holds our attention for minutes. A puddle becomes an adventure. A cloud transforms into a dragon, a ship, or a castle drifting across the sky. Children seem instinctively aware that the world is alive with mystery and possibility.

Somewhere along the way, many of us lose that awareness. We grow busy, efficient, productive. We hurry from one obligation to the next. We glance but no longer see. We hear but no longer listen. We walk past countless small miracles—not because they have disappeared, but because we have stopped paying attention.

Perhaps wonder isn’t something we lose. Perhaps it is something we simply neglect.

That is why I believe wonder can be practiced.

The sacred practice of wonder begins by slowing down long enough to notice: the sunlight filtering through the trees, the fresh scent of rain after a storm, the quiet shift of seasons, the intricate beauty of a single flower, the kindness of a stranger, or the everyday blessings we too often take for granted.

Wonder is simply paying attention with an open heart.

The more I observe creation, the more convinced I become that it is filled with small miracles. A seed becoming a towering oak tree. A caterpillar transforming into a butterfly. The return of birds each spring. The faithful rhythm of sunrise and sunset. The remarkable renewal of life, year after year.

These things happen regularly, yet they remain extraordinary.

And perhaps that is the paradox: the most extraordinary things are often hidden inside the ordinary.

Wonder does something vital for the soul. It softens us. It humbles us. It reminds us that we are part of something far larger than ourselves. Wonder gives birth to gratitude, and gratitude gives birth to joy—not the fleeting happiness that depends on circumstances, but the deeper, steadier joy that comes from recognizing the goodness woven throughout life.

I have noticed that moments of wonder often linger long after the moment itself has passed. A sunrise witnessed years ago. A sweeping mountain view. A song that stirred the heart. An answer to prayer. A single ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

These experiences stay with us. They become anchors for the soul—quiet reminders that even in life’s busiest seasons, beauty and wonder are never far away.

Perhaps that is because wonder always points beyond itself. The beauty of creation invites us to consider the One who created it. The heavens declare His glory. The earth reflects His artistry. Every small wonder becomes an invitation: an invitation to slow down, to pay attention, to give thanks, and ultimately, to worship.

As I walk the trails of Whispering Oaks Ridge, I am often surrounded by these quiet reminders—a wildflower blooming unnoticed beside the path, birds greeting the dawn, golden evening light stretching across the meadow, long shadows weaving among the oak trees.

Simple things. Ordinary things. Yet somehow they feel sacred.

Not because they are rare, but because they reveal what has been there all along. 

Perhaps wonder is less about discovering something new and more about seeing familiar things with fresh eyes.

And perhaps one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves—and the generations that follow—is the ability to remain amazed. To never lose our capacity for awe. To never stop noticing. To never stop marveling at the beauty, mystery, and goodness woven throughout God’s creation.

In a hurried world, wonder may feel like a luxury. I believe it is a necessity.

For wonder nourishes the soul. 
And a nourished soul is better equipped to recognize joy, cultivate gratitude, and live fully.

The world is still full of wonders.

The question is: Are we paying attention?

May we choose, day by day, to slow down, open our eyes, and let wonder lead us back to gratitude, joy, and the quiet presence of the Creator who surrounds us with beauty.

Everyone was amazed and gave praise to God. They were filled with awe and said, “We have seen remarkable things today.”  Luke 5:26

Teaching Them to Make a Living… and a Life

I was recently listening to a stirring song written by a country singer. The lyrics were heartfelt, expressing the importance of teaching our children about matters of the soul. Not just to instruct them on how to achieve success in the world but to notice their surroundings, to learn from nature—the river, the mountains, the sunset, and the morning light.

The thought lingered with me.

As I wandered around Whispering Oaks Ridge one evening, watching long shadows stretch across the meadow and listening to birds settling in for the night, I found myself reflecting on all that we strive so diligently to teach our children.

We teach them how to read and write.
How to exercise and stay healthy.
How to work hard and to manage money.
How to solve problems and become independent.
How to succeed in an increasingly complicated world. Continue reading →

Why Do I Write?

Occasionally people ask me why I write.

The short response is “Because I must!” But the real answer is surprisingly simple too and deserves a longer explanation. I write when my thoughts compel me to express what I am thinking and feeling.

Most of the time, writing doesn’t begin with me asking, “What shall I write about today?” Instead it begins with a thought that simply won’t leave me alone.

An observation.
A question.
A memory.
A lesson life has quietly taught me. Continue reading →

Reflections from Whispering Oaks Ridge

The oak trees are calling, and I must go.

I hear them whispering my name, strumming the strings of my heart and beckoning me to return to the beauty of stately oaks, rolling green pastures, and the wonders of nature.

The ranch is a safe place to nourish my soul—a place where the distractions, worldly noise, and daily demands of life begin to fade with the first deep exhale.

My mind slows.

My soul sings.

Whispering Oaks Ridge is a dream come true. An inheritance gift from my parents made it possible for us to purchase this little slice of paradise. We remodeled, built a deck, and made other improvements to transform it into what we consider a welcoming retreat.

We truly love this property, and the words feeling thankful fall short of expressing the depth of gratitude we owe my parents. Their gift blessed us beyond measure.

This is our sanctuary.

Caring for the land brings a special kind of joy. Stunning views of meadows dotted with wildflowers and grazing deer stretch beyond every window, bringing the beauty and vibrancy of nature indoors. What a privilege it is to walk among these ancient oaks, wondering about the generations that came before us while savoring the blessings of today.

Although we love our Austin home and it remains our primary residence, we appreciate meaningful stretches of time at Whispering Oaks Ridge. For me, every moment immersed in nature heightens my senses, draws me closer to God, and restores my soul.

It is here that peacefulness and beauty inspire me to think, to remember, to realign my priorities, to reflect on life, and to write.

Welcome to Reflections from Whispering Oaks Ridge.

These essays are inspired by life on our ranch, the beauty of God’s creation, and the lessons gathered over a lifetime of faith, family, service, and learning.

My hope is that these reflections encourage you to slow down, notice wonder, and live well.

Perhaps my writing will invite you into a quiet space where you can sit for a while.

Here you will find stories, observations, questions, and wisdom gathered over a lifetime. Faith, nature, purpose, gratitude, and wonder naturally intertwine.

If you are hurried, perhaps you will slow down.

If you are discouraged, perhaps you will find hope.

And perhaps readers of all ages—even the next generation—will discover a few signposts from someone who has walked a little farther down the road.

So pull up a chair.

Take a deep breath.

Listen to the wind in the oaks.

And welcome to Whispering Oaks Ridge.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul.
— Psalm 23:2-3

Snow Snuggles

Snow Snuggles. Two little English robins huddled together in the wintry days of January. Most of them do not migrate but brave the Winter to protect their territory.

As I attempted to paint their feathers this morning, the first verse of Emily Dickinson’s poem “Hope” came to mind.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.

Ah yes. Hope! We all need it. It’s everything. I pray you have it in abundance. ❤️

10 Days of Christmas Paintings

An excerpt from my latest blogpost inspired by my watercolor shown above. The Tree and the Snowman.

“The snowman’s head was not quite as they’d left it and somehow his face was different. His eyes sparkled brighter and his smile was much bigger. His carrot nose was cheekily pointing upward, while his head was tilted back and turned ever so slightly towards the tree. Was he gazing up in wonder at the tree’s star? Yes, indeed! They couldn’t deny what they saw.”

A little painting to honor the pine cone which plays a beautiful part of Christmas festivities. We find these cones in all shapes & sizes—adorning Christmas trees, tucked into wreaths and added to table decorations.

I personally love them and have a basket of large sugar pine cones that I collected from a forest in Northern California many years ago. To me their design is perfection in their imperfections. They’re beautiful in their natural state but adding some silver or gold spay paint jazzes them up to add some sparkle.

Did you know that the pine cone is SO much much more than a Christmas decoration? Hiding within its beautiful design lie the seeds to grow an entire forest! One more little miracle from our Creator.

I painted this simple little tree ornament for you in the classic Christmas colors of red and green. These two colors are complementary and, when placed side by side, each accentuates the vibrancy of the other.

Red radiates energy and passion, while green is grounding and calming. Together, these opposite colors harmonize. They create a sense of cozy warmth, peacefulness, and joy, so what better colors to symbolize Christmas, right?

At this beautiful time of year,  I wish you harmony, joy, love, faith, and an unwavering  hope for the future.

A heartfelt thanks to all my dear friends everywhere. You light up my life.

This little painting is intended to inspire a mountaintop moment. I hope you like it.

Today, we are one week from Christmas Eve. Do you feel the glory of an all-powerful living and loving God? I hope your heart is full of joy as we celebrate Christ’s birth. May your cup overflow with blessings. May you fall to your knees in reverence as you wonder at the magnitude of God’s gift to mankind.

“Go, tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go, tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born

Down in a lowly manger
Our humble Christ was born
And brought us all salvation
That blessed Christmas morn.”

How could I not paint a festive nutcracker? Mine is dressed in traditional garb, as a guard, but nowadays we find these colorful ornaments mimicking a variety of characters. They come in all shapes and sizes—hanging on the Christmas tree, displayed on the mantle piece, standing to attention at the front door, always ready to greet a friendly visitor, or on guard to ward off danger.

Originally, nutcrackers were keepsake gifts to bring good luck to a family. It is said they represent strength and power, and protect the family from anything harmful.

Here’s a delightful little poem by Jonathan H. Scott

THE NUTCRACKER.
My kingdom’s only make-believe.
This truth I’ll not deny.
Still, through the years, I’ve stood the watch.
Herein I reason why.

If I am seen by just one child—
One little girl or boy,
I am prepared to give my all,
Though I am just a toy.

Despite my lowly place, you see,
I am still honor-bound.
No greater call of duty now
Will anywhere be found.

Yet, there’s one thing above all else
(It’s been so from the start)
I will protect and will care for;
Your dear and tender heart.

Hanging a Christmas wreath on the front door is more than a festive red and green decoration for me. The evergreen pine needles represent everlasting life, the red flowers and berries symbolize the blood of Christ, and the circle emphasizes eternal love.

But our wreath is also a warm greeting that says “You are welcome in this place!”

It’s an open invitation to step over the threshold and into our home. How about a glass of cheer, a hot chocolate, or a cup of tea? Then, stay a while. Let’s celebrate the blessings of love, family, friendship and good health. Let’s reminisce about the good old days and speak enthusiastically about the years ahead.

Cheers! Here’s wishing our friends and family the happiest season of all. Merry Christmas!

It’s true there’s something magical about falling snow, especially for children—or those folks who awaken their inner child. Isn’t it wonderful how snow quietens the world and instills a sense of peace to life, and yet it also stirs the desire to venture out into it, touch it, build a snowman, or even fall into its softness and craft a snow angel? So silently beautiful.

I doubt we’ll see snow here in Texas but we can dream, right?

Christmas is almost here! As the worldly distractions of busyness and non-stop noise reach a deafening crescendo, I invite you to stop for a few moments, take a break, and listen to the words of this song for the next 75 seconds.

I hope the scene in this little painting floods you with a sense of peace. That you feel joy and hope. I pray you know the light of the world. Through Him, may you shine your light for others to follow.

Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” —John 8:12

No lights for this Christmas tree. None needed. There’s nothing mankind can create to compare with nature. No painting could reproduce the magnificence of this tree as it stood in glittering radiance.

There, in the crunchy snow, I was spellbound by its breathtaking beauty. It was alive with dazzling light. Instead of wired lights, on every bough millions of snowflakes twinkled in the sun, sparkling like dancing diamonds. No two flakes alike. No baubles hung on its branches—just a star on the treetop announcing the coming of our savior.

A miracle for mankind.

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. —Isaiah 9:6

The Tree and the Snowman

The children, all bundled up in their woolies and boots, charged out the back door amidst shrieks of joy and laughter, unleashing pent up anticipation and excitement. Christmas was almost here and the garden was covered in a glistening white carpet.

The first snowfall of winter had beckoned the children out to play. They seemed oblivious to the frosty air as they frolicked hither and thither. Their eager faces beamed with delight and their cheeks shone rosy pink, flushed from the chilly air.

They sculpted snow angels and they crafted snowballs from handfuls of the soft white flakes. Squeals and shouts of satisfaction echoed across the blanketed garden as well-aimed snowballs crumbled powdery white on their targets. The fight was on! Snow was flying.

Soon, the children’s attention turned to the tree. The evergreen, its branches now laden with snow. It was little more than a twig when first planted in the garden—not much taller than the eldest of the three siblings. Now the tallest of the two boys had to stretch high above his head to crown the tree with its Christmas star.

“There, that’s done! Our tree is ready, but he needs his little friend,” the boy exclaimed. His was voice a little deeper this year.

It was their special tradition. Every year around Christmas they would place a beautiful nativity star on their evergreen tree to announce the birth of Jesus. On the years it snowed, they would build a snowman to keep the tree company. After all, everyone needs a friend, right? Especially at Christmastime.

The children set about rolling the biggest ball for the snowman’s body. It was soon accomplished as the snow was thick this year. They placed it close to the tree, and in no time his head was firmly planted on his body. Their snowman was taking shape. Now for the fun part. Twigs for arms, and chunks of coal for eyes, mouth and coat buttons. While the boys arranged those finishing touches the girl ran to fetch a carrot for his nose.

“Ta-da! He’s done!”

“Not quite”, whispered the girl. “It’s cold out here when you’re just standing around! He needs My scarf!”

She wrapped her red wool scarf around his neck, and one of the boys removed his beanie and placed it on the snowman’s head. The three children stood back and admired their creation for a few moments before disappearing into the warmth of their house.

The next day was Christmas morning. After breakfast, and the fun of opening stockings, the little girl moved towards the back window to look out at the tree and his snowman friend. She gave a little gasp and demanded her brothers join her. What they saw was magical to them.

The snowman’s head was not quite as they’d left it and somehow his face was different. His eyes sparkled brighter and his smile was much bigger. His carrot nose was cheekily pointing upward, while his head was tilted back and turned ever so slightly towards the tree. Was he gazing up in wonder at the tree’s star? Yes, indeed! They couldn’t deny what they saw.

“Why does he look so alive and so joyful? Do you think the tree told him what the star means?” Queried the little girl. Before the boys could respond, a voice from behind spoke up.

“Of course he did,” answered their mother!

So, my dear friends, it’s your turn now. What do you think?

Snow provokes responses that reach right back to childhood.
– Andy Goldsworthy

Choose Love and Lovely Thoughts

We’ve had an exceedingly busy life over the last few weeks. We’ve been traveling. First, with family and friends, on a delightful cruise to Alaska, and then more recently we were in Nashville for a granddaughter’s wedding, which was attended by every single beautiful family member—from the oldies (Chuck & I) to the youngest of great grandchildren (Carter) to everyone in between. 

Such meaningful moments full of love, and loveliness. My soul is still singing.  

After all the excitement and constant activity, a weekend at home to simply chill and do nothing was a welcome respite, and I caught up with some news and social media posts. Maybe not the brightest idea, but enlightening. So much chaos and craziness in the world news! And a few hate-filled social media posts. What I saw, read, and heard got me thinking about the negativity that’s swirling in the life and times of now!

But this morning I was reminded of the wisdom in Philippians 4:8-9, which has resulted in this blogpost. It was a reminder to always choose love and lovely thoughts. Take action that intentionally nourish the soul and serve as a blessing to others! 

I’ve written extensively about such topics, in various ways over the years, in this blog and in my book, so this is one more reminder that while we live in a troubled, topsy-turvy world, surrounded by disturbing news, hateful criticism, and noisy commentary, we must guard our hearts and minds by choosing love over hate, and lovely, pure thoughts over negative ones, because our thoughts do matter—they direct our actions and determine our lives!

As Dr. Forrest C Shaklee so wisely expressed, “What you think, you look; what you think, you do; and what you think, you are!”

We can learn a lot about people simply by scrolling through their social media feed, viewing their pictures, seeing what they repost, and reading their comments—even reading between the lines. We learn who people really are; what they enjoy, where they stand; and how they think. 

Happily for me, the vast majority of friends and people I follow are like-minded in terms of posting pictures and comments about their social lives, their family, their hobbies and their passions—pleasant, loving posts that are interesting and uplifting. 

But then there are those whose posts I now scroll on by because it saddens me to see their creators so embittered and obsessed with a perceived social injustice, their own personal pet peeve, or visceral hatred towards anyone with an opposing political view. So much so, some even invite those who disagree with their viewpoint to unfriend them. Whatever happened to love and friendship? What’s wrong with agreeing to disagree? Can we not place love and friendship above political preferences?

Actually, I prefer to befriend rather than unfriend, to build bridges of communication with people I care for, rather than to silence them, or punish them for thinking differently, and to be kind and respectful even when on opposing sides. So, I scroll past the hateful rhetoric and, although tempted to respond at times, I choose not to engage—in the big scheme of things their anger is of no consequence to me, and my time is better spent more positively. Very often, the hostile language, the repetitive accusations, and the voluminous vitriol are not only beneath the writer, but they are also dull and boring to me. Life is too precious to allow someone else’s unpleasantness to invade your life and steal your peace, so I let them be! I remain hopeful that their posts will be more enjoyable in the future, but I continue to scroll on to more uplifting, interesting posts. 

With that said, let’s encourage one another to level up. Let’s rise above the malicious rhetoric. Let’s attempt to seek the good in others, to choose love over hate, and lovely thoughts over vindictive ones. Let’s be the light in someone else’s darkness. 

What if we invest so much time working on ourselves, to be the best we can be, we leave no room for hateful criticism of others—who are probably doing the very best they can. 

Let’s try to live each day heeding Paul’s words in Philippians 4:8-9

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.