Martha's Murmurings

Musings on the human condition from a woman's perspective…

Tag: love

  • My cup overflows…

    My cup overflows…

    Psalms 23:5-6 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever. About two weeks ago a guest pastor…

    Continue Reading

  • Crimson…

    I wore a red dress to church today. Like. SO red. Brilliantly red. Crimson. Fabulous, flirty and fun. It covered me below my knees, to my wrists, fit well, not too tight – nothing that should make any heads turn. But. Wow – people who know me had. comments. Friendly older men whom I know…

    Continue Reading

  • On Visions, Nightmares and my own meandering experience…

    On Visions, Nightmares and my own meandering experience…

    INTRODUCTION I’ve handwritten this blog post before typing it up. If, by now, you feel you’re coming to know ‘me,’ then you can appreciate the challenge I’ve put before myself by forcing my cramped penmanship to page before, eventually, typing and reviewing this. I’ve reflected on the need to write this for more than a…

    Continue Reading

  • Marring your very perfect self

    Marring your very perfect self

    Let’s talk about self harm. I’m not an expert; I’m not a psychologist; I have never offered peer support; and have never harmed myself in any of the ways that are talked about in books or popular culture. So – that’s a lot of words to say I’m absolutely unqualified to write about other people’s…

    Continue Reading

  • Best Friends Forever

    Best Friends Forever

    A story I wrote some years ago for children to help them process grief when a loved friend passes. It’s based on my own life, and loss of my own bestest-best friend when I was a girl. you live on always in memory and love, Regina I have a very bestest best friend. She is…

    Continue Reading

  • One stair tread sanded…

    One stair tread sanded…

    My hands are still tingling from holding the palm sander for an hour and half, in spite of doing the dishes and watering the garden since taking a break from my project. I had to stop, look, sit back and say to myself, “that’s enough for one day…” I bought myself a little sander last…

    Continue Reading