WELCOME!
I’m Dianne, a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, and Christ-lovin’ creative. This is my home to share what inspires me, moves me, and brings meaning and beauty to everyday life.
“Creativity is the way I share my soul with the world.”
-BRENE BROWN
MOST RECENT POSTS
The Three Amigos
I was inspired today as I watched my husband, Brad, run his first marathon. For the past four months, four days a week, he has been running to prepare. The temperature was chilly this morning as he waited for the race to start. He stood shivering in his neon tee shirt beside his two training buddies. All three of them had decided to conquer the race together.
Lessons I’ve learned from a four-year-old.
I am a Preschool teacher again. In my forties, I don’t feel as limber as I once was, but my tolerance and patience have increased immensely since the after-school program I taught as a 21-year-old. Unexpectedly, I have been rewarded for my hard work with inspiration from these little ones. Here are some of the lessons I have learned.
More than a Song
In our basement sits my paternal grandmother’s piano. It is the only heirloom I have from her. If sold it wouldn’t bring much money, but it is priceless to me. Pressing its keys, I am reminded it needs tuning. Like this piano, I think people can get pulled out of tune. When circumstances shift and routine is halted it is easy to feel life go flat. The rhythm feels disjointed in seasons of change.
Just Do It! 3 Keys to Creative Success
Procrastination is not our friend. He is a menace who tries to steal our success. He sounds just like us, so we often are fooled by his schemes. Still, we can find a better way.
It’s Time to Win
“It’s time to win,” I whispered. I wasn’t just talking about conquering the hill. I was talking about winning in life. Have you ever been there? In that uncomfortable spot between the accomplishments of the past and the doubt of the present?
Under the Fireworks
My father did not go off to war. During the draft for Vietnam, his name was drawn. In fact, in his hometown, most of the boys of the graduating class of 1966 were selected. He would tell you, he was excited to go. He thought he would be bunked with his close friends, after all, they all had been drafted together.
“I Do” Again
With our children watching we exchanged rings on the freshly mown grass in the front yard of his parent’s house. We read our handwritten vows and we kissed. Afterward, to the cheers of our family, we took off running toward the future hand in hand.
A Birthday Do-Over
“We wanted to let you sleep in, Birthday Girl,” Brad said coming in for a hug and kiss on the cheek. I was instantly annoyed, I hate oversleeping. It was my Birthday, and I didn’t want to be unpleasant to my family. Swallowing my temptation to be a sour puss I put on a forced smile as I patted his shoulder.
Becoming Myself
One young mom frowned saying, “You are so skinny.” I shot back, “Too skinny actually, but your skin is porcelain clear. My complexion is awful without make-up.” We were caught in the comparison trap. The effort to compliment each other did not help as we had hoped.
It’s Pruning Time
After our walk taking one more look at my cherished rosebush I noticed each delicate petal spread wide willingly offering its fragrance and taking in the warmth of the sun without apology. I too want to live with an open heart and willing spirit to give beauty to others and receive new strength from God even if it requires getting out the pruning shears.
Three Cheers for Little Boys
My son Judah is turning six today. I am joining the ranks of parents everywhere who sigh over time gone by. As a family, we would all agree, Judah makes life better. He has a way of reminding us that life is full of wonder and even more importantly that life was meant to be lived together.
Creating Wonder
I was scrolling through Facebook reels when I came across a video: How to make a magical garland using post-bloomed dandelions. I watched the 30-second reel in amazement. As I heard, “Such a garland creates a beautiful and magical experience for young and old alike,” I was convinced, so I got started on creating my own.
Inside the Sacred Vow
Have you ever made a vow to someone? A promise you meant to keep? Something more than an I swear I won’t tell, cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye…?
To Be A Mother
As I grew she was my hero. Her blue eyes were oceans of love, but my mother had a big job. She raised the four of us while my Father worked at the factory. She made us meals, she mended our clothes, she even tried to spank us if we were naughty, (but it didn’t hurt). I didn’t know what it was to be a mother until I became one.
What’s in your hand?
What’s in your hand? With the answer to this question comes an invitation to act right now. To be present, in this moment. To lean into the bright lyric of the bird’s song and to breathe in and out slowly so as to pick up the hint of lilac on the breeze.
Toward Imagination
“Almost there,” I whispered to myself as I squinted my eyes toward the puffy cumulus clouds. The sky hung above in brilliant blue beckoning me as my pointed toes reached. My body stretched like an arrow in the launch as my hands gripped the chains. As quickly as I almost reached the sky gravity pulled me back. Hauling myself into a sit position with my legs curled under I sailed backward. This was the tallest swing in any park I had ever played in.
Walking Sticks and Birthday Balloons
Sometimes you can have the most fun doing seemingly ordinary things. This was the kind of joy I had with my mom as we celebrated her 72nd birthday. At the trail, my dad opened the trunk to get their two sets of walking poles. I laughed to myself thinking, why would you need walking poles on the nature trail? We live in Iowa, there is barely a hill in these parts.
Thanks, Mom
“Thanks, Mom.” Did she believe me? After all, it is her mother speaking. Aren’t moms supposed to say such things? I felt vulnerable as I sat with her knowing: how she views herself will shape how she lives her life. My words felt trivial and cliche, but I meant them.
A Broken Hugger
I have a broken hugger. I wasn’t aware of it until a few years ago. Teenagers have a way of pointing out all of their parent’s flaws, but this one was particularly perplexing. I was a new mother again after eleven long years, and my thirteen-year-old girl, the one with the passionate personality, hugged me between the kitchen table and the cupboards. Oh, how I needed that hug amid the questions and the grieving, but then she ruined it by asking, “Mom why don’t you hug back?”
A New Hello
The air smelled like gardenias, and a simple walk down the street drew your eye to countless flowering bushes and trees. Hawaii is known for its vibrant colored plant life contrasted by the stark black craggy coastal line. Hawaii is a magical place, I firmly believe, but only God can heal the heart.