The M&M Story

Briggs' published story from the winter---this was written on his own, not for school.....I think the last line is one of my very favorites ever. The Lonely Cat By Briggs Maynor Once there was a lonely cat. He had no mom and dad.  And he had no Home. Nobody wanted him. He was so cute. I love him. But he had a basket that he snuggled in and he had a stuffed animal. And he had a baby that was so cute. I wish I could have him. The Next day I got him!! I adopted him! I was so happy I could hardly breath.  The End. Published Date--December 2010

Writers write from what they know.... Max Maynor #9 31 March 2010 The Brave Dragon          Once upon a time in England during the Middle Ages, there was a brave dragon named Briggs.   He lived in a castle with a prince named Max and a princess named Carsyn. Prince Max and Princess Carsyn were in love. They were happy because they were friends and liked to play with each other.   Their brave pet dragon Briggs always kept them company. The castle was near a forest and there was a dwarf named Susan who used to live in the forest but now lived in the castle for her protection from the evil king’s army.          One day Princess Carsyn was on a horse ride in the forest and the evil king Todd jumped out from behind a tree and kidnapped her. He took her to the evil castle on the other side of the forest. When Prince Max found out she had been kidnapped, he snuck through the forest to the other side. Prince Max tried to rescue her by fighting the king. The evil king stabbed Max in his l

On Easter, Max was not at his best.  He actually spent the afternoon on the couch, completely uninterested in food. On the Monday morning after Easter, he shuffled out of his room and announced: Max:  "Mom, I can't go to school." Me:  "Why, honey?" Max:  "Well, I feel like I have seaweed in my stomach, at least one beehive in my throat and a jackhammer in my eye." With that, he shuffled back to his room and crawled under his covers. Interesting symptoms.  I wonder his diagnosis....

Yes, I think so. If it didn't, I might want to crawl under the covers and go back to sleep for say, the next forty years of my life.  The Easter season holds powerful lessons for me.  Many, many moons ago, my father entered the gates of heaven, unexpectedly in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. It was about three weeks before Easter.  Nine years ago, Max, my creative, funny, and often poetic first born joined us in this earthly life. It was about two weeks before Easter.  Seven years ago (three weeks early), Briggs, my strong and so lovable youngest son was born, and it was about a week before Easter.  And then six years ago, my sweet first husband--Brian--was diagnosed with terminal cancer in the rainy days of March. It was about three weeks before Easter.  This time of year.  It is often a tornado of emotions and feelings and joys and sorrows and blessings.  And promises. And I don't mean I-promise-to-buy-you-an-ice-cream-if-you-clean-your-room kind of promise. More l

Briggs stayed home for the fifth day in a row.  Well, two of those were weekend days. Saturday morning his outcome for health looked promising, but a high fever and a trip to urgent care said differently.  Today he was fever free and recovering from four days of being sick. This morning, unbeknownst to me, Todd had asked him to make a list of things he wanted to do today. (It was Daddy's turn to stay home.) I was buzzing around the house gathering my things when I noticed him on the sofa, pensive and still. Catching my breath, I asked, "What's up, buddy?  Are you feeling bad?" He wasn't totally himself yet, but my concern was we had missed something that morning and he was, indeed, still feverish. B:  "No, I'm just thinking about my list." S:  "What list, honey?" B: "My list of things I want to do with Daddy today. And we are going to rest between each activity." S:  (I was melting in puddle of love for this little guy):

I've watched this a bunch of times. I've shown it to my students in class. I've posted it on Facebook. Clearly, I really, really like it and think it should be on my blog. Permanently. Laura, one of my rock star video students, made this last fall. She wrote it.  She directed it. She edited it. She was 16 at the time. The ballerina is one of her best friends, also one of my students. I think this video teaches how beautiful redemption really is. I hope my boys, as teenagers, will grasp this understanding.

I've decided that I might be the most selfish and discontented person alive.  And narcissistic to boot. "I could do that better....." "If I just could.....maybe if I did this.....what if this were this way.....and that was that way...." Yes, I'm that shallow and that discontent and that, well, sinful. I like to pretend that I'm all wise and have learned, but that doesn't take away the fact that God, in His mercy, saved me from myself. Desire.  What exactly does that mean? God gives you the desires of your heart.  Okay, but my heart is pretty nasty. It envies. It covets. It judges. I wish it didn't. I wish I was perfect. Therein lies the problem.  Good thing I have a Savior. This devotion recently showed up in my inbox at precisely the same moment I was banging pots and pans around as I unloaded the dishwasher. Then I began ungracefully dropping silverware in my silverware drawer because my perfectly planned plans had been thwarted b