“Ain’t Nothin’ Gonna Break My Stride”*

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Katie diving for the ball
This past Thursday, I watched Katie play in a tennis match in which she spent each break between games doubled over, holding her stomach. Apparently she was coming down with something, and her stomach cramps were causing her great pain. Afterward, her coach asked her why she didn’t quit or tell him she wasn’t feeling well. Katie just looked up at him and replied, “I wanted to play, and I wanted to win.” And win she did, 8-1, losing only the first game, which is her usual strategy – to spend more time focusing on how her opponent plays than trying to win that first round. Katie ended up being sick all night and stayed home from school the next day but bounced back by early afternoon.

Since then, I’ve thought a lot about the next comment her coach made, “I guess it runs in the family.” I don’t know why he said that, other than the fact that he has spent the past eight years coaching one Schisler or another in both tennis and field hockey. Surely he knows that neither Rebecca or Morgan let anything stop them from reaching their goals, and he watches Katie do that every day at practice and in matches. Thinking about it made me wonder where they get it from, and that led me to ask where I get it from. The answer is simple.

Over the past thirty years, my father has battled three different types of cancer. He has had a hip replacement and hears very little of what is said to him. In less than three weeks, he will turn eighty, and I’m sure he will spend that day like every other. He will wake up early, walk at least a mile, attend Mass, run errands, and then go to work in his garage, building amazing outdoor chairs or benches or tables, birdhouses, children’s play furniture, bookcases, or closet storage units –  whatever has been ordered that week.  He’ll spend the evening watching TV with mom, looking forward to watching his Orioles play. Dad was probably one of those kids who got perfect attendance every year in school. He lets nothing slow him down or stop him from achieving whatever goal he has set before him, even if the goal is to simply live to see another day.

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My favorite office accessory – my whiteboard wall!
My father-in-law once told me that I’m impatient and always want everything “yesterday.” He wasn’t trying to insult me; he was just pointing out that I don’t like waiting for things to be done. And he’s right. But I don’t think it has to do with impatience (although I readily admit to that being one of my major flaws). Rather, I think it’s because an unfinished project or open task means that a goal has not been met; the next goal is put on hold. I constantly have a list running, a tally of things I need to accomplish in a day, a week, a month. My family sees lists posted all over the house that remind them of tasks to be done. If things aren’t completed within my set timeline, it throws off the whole system. It sounds neurotic and controlling, I know, but I tend to see it differently.

You see, we were all put on this earth for a reason, to fulfill something, to attain our purpose. If I were to spend my days taking naps, watching TV, playing video games, or socializing with friends, does that mean I would enjoy life more? Would I obtain greater satisfaction? A bigger sense of fulfillment? Perhaps, but I don’t think so. On the other hand, when I finish a successful week of summer camp and see the girls leaving with smiles on their faces, calling to their friends, “See you next year,” I am filled with deep, unwavering satisfaction. All of the time and effort that I put into planning the camp, throughout the entire year, pays off. It’s the same with my writing. Selling books and garnering good reviews isn’t a means to satisfying my wallet but a means to satisfying my soul. It’s the feeling of a job well done, but more importantly, it’s the feeling of bringing enjoyment to others. And sometimes, like with finishing my new home office, it’s simply the sense of satisfaction that it brings to me.

Perhaps I have it all wrong. Maybe pushing myself to stay on task, looking ahead to the next thing on the list, and constantly striving to accomplish my goals isn’t good for me. Perhaps I’ve created monsters that my children will never be able to overcome that will lead them to anxiety, fear of failure, and the inability to move forward. I certainly hope not. I hope that they will learn to harness anxiety and turn it into motivation, recognize that failure is sometimes success on an alternate path, and that moving forward sometimes means taking one baby step at a time. I also hope that we all continue working hard, crossing off our goals, and enjoying our lives until we’re at least eighty. My dad seems to have found the path to a long and happy life. All I can do is pray that I’m following in his footsteps.

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My Dad and me at Christmas
What I was writing about one year ago this week:  Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace.

Things I’ve read this week that are worth sharing:  Not a Perfect Mom, but an Enough Mom  by Wonderoak,  A Craving for Confession at Y’all Need Jesus, How the Like Button Ruined the Internet from the Atlantic. 

Amy Schisler is an award winning author of both children’s books and novels for readers of all ages.  She lives with her husband and three daughters on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Her books, Picture Me  and Whispering Vines, are recipients of Illumination Awards, placing them among the top three inspirational fiction books of 2015 and 2016. Amy’s most recent novel, Island of Miracles, is now on sale as well as Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms, her collaboration with the authors of the blog, Y’all Need Jesus.

You may follow Amy on Facebook at http://facebook.com/amyschislerauthor, Twitter @AmySchislerAuth, Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/amyschisler and at http://amyschislerauthor.com.

Amy’s books: Crabbing With Granddad (2013), A Place to Call Home (2014), Picture Me(2015), Whispering Vines (2016), Island of Miracles (2017), Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms (2017)

*Title taken from the lyrics of Break My Stride by Matthew Wilder.

All That Stuff & 5 Things It Taught Me

This week, my new home office is being completed, or nearly completed as there will still be things to do such as pictures to hang on the wall, a rug and curtains to pick out, etc. But for the most part, it will be ready to be used, complete with new furniture and a custom built closet, all courtesy of my wonderful father. It’s very strange to be sitting in the room that Rebecca occupied for most of her life, but she was all in favor of me converting the room, and I was way past due for a space of my own (you can only get so much accomplished when your “office” consists of a few shelves in a hall closet and a cabinet under the kitchen counter).

Over the course of the past couple weeks, Rebecca and I cleaned out her room, and I cleaned out two under-eave storage spaces to make room for the things she’s saving for her future office and/or apartment. I also cleaned out the downstairs hall closet, Ken’s office closet (where my Girl Scout stuff was), and that kitchen cabinet I mentioned. I am amazed at the amount of stuff that we pulled out, threw away, took to St Vincent DePaul, packed for Rebecca, and moved into the office. Where did it all come from?  

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This is just the “office” stuff that was in the hall closet!
I spent several hours just going through the seaman’s trunk that was found in the basement of my great-grandparent’s house. Inside were all the cards that Ken and I received from well-wishers when we got married (over twenty-three years ago) lots of old photographs of family and friends, the scrapbook my mother made when I was a baby, and a stack of old concert programs. I have no idea what to do with any of this stuff. Okay, I actually threw away the cards, but the wedding planner has to stay. Why? I have no idea, but I’m sure I’ll think of a reason.

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My eclectic mix of programs, and no George Micheal isn’t bringing lots of money on eBay these days.
I swore that I was not going to go along with the 40 Bags in 40 Days that so many have come to associate with Lent (I’m sorry, but that’s like associating snowmen with Christmas). I swore that I wasn’t going to get rid of things just because it’s Lent, and I’m still not, but there has been an awful lot of stuff leaving this house in the last two weeks. And an awful lot that has stayed.  But I try to learn something from everything, so I’ve been thinking about some of the lessons I’ve learned over this week of cleaning. Here are the ones that have made an impact.

1.  If your children don’t care about it, then you don’t need to either.  Conversation: 

Rebecca:  “Mom, you still have all of my trophies from elementary school?” 

Me:  “Of course. Why would I throw them away?”

Rebecca:  “Why would you keep them?”

I have no idea. I don’t know why I kept them except that I thought she would want them. Now the question is, what do I do with them?

2.  Buying what’s on sale isn’t always the best idea. I used to always buy packs of children’s Valentines the day after Valentine’s Day. They cost no more than a quarter on that day. A few years ago, I was cleaning out that same, catch-all closet, and I came across half a dozen boxes of Valentines. I couldn’t remember the last time my girls traded Valentines, but I was well prepared should they want to start up again. And don’t even get me started on school supplies. Morgan asked me last week to stop by the store to buy her new pens and pencils. The only store I went to was “the closet.” Rebecca watched me pull them out and asked if I had enough school supplies for her children to use someday. Sadly, the answer is yes. And while it’s great to not have to run by the store every time someone runs out of their designated supply of pens, the amount of supplies we sometimes end up with is monumental. The girls are collecting school supplies to send to our sister parish in Guatemala. I hope they need pens and pencils, lots of pens and pencils. And notebooks and paper and index cards….

3.  Calculate your needs first. I have piles of books that I will never sell. I wish I had been able to sign and sell every one of them, but I was arrogant and overzealous. I ordered my first three books in quantities that even Barnes and Noble couldn’t handle in their warehouse. Now I have lots of copies of books that came out two, three, and four years ago, and I’m busy trying to sell the most recent works. These days, I order books three dozen at a time, and only when I know that I am going to sell them. If I need more, I can always contact the publisher and have a box sent. And I don’t feel so defeated by piles of unsold books. Now, about that whole storage area of storage containers….

4.  If you don’t have a use for it, plan to wear it, or aren’t sure you’re going to like it, don’t buy it. I have six white sweaters. Why? Because I’m a sucker for a good, white sweater. How often do I wear white sweaters? Good question, but I always know I have several if I need them. Unfortunately, I don’t. I wear the same white sweater every time I reach for a sweater. Somehow, I always think that this one will go better with that outfit, or that one will look better with a skirt, that one with pants. The truth is, they all look exactly the same – like a good, comfy, white sweater.

5.  Make use with what you have. Over the course of planning my office, I’ve had a running list of things I intended to purchase. While the cost of the office was growing, the size of the room was not, and neither was my bank account. I had to do some re-evaluating of my needs and wants. The shelves that I took down from Rebecca’s wall will work perfectly in the closet dad is building me. The black curtain rod can be spray painted to match the new color scheme. The degrees and awards I found while cleaning make more sense to hang than expensive art (using the frames from the pictures Rebecca took down).

I still have a long way to go. Yes, I did buy a new wall clock today. There’s just something I love about a wall clock with real hands, and I refuse to move the one from the kitchen. But I did end up throwing away the wedding planner. I’ve got all the memories still tucked safely away in my mind and heart. And there’s always room for more there.

Come back next week to see the transformation!

For Lenten inspiration, check out Amy’s collaboration with authors, Anne Kennedy, Susan Anthony, Chandi Owen, and Wendy Clark:  Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms.

Amy Schisler is an award winning author of both children’s books and novels for readers of all ages.  She lives with her husband and three daughters on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Her book, Picture Me, is the recipient of an Illumination Award, placing it among the top three inspirational fiction eBooks of 2015. Her book, Whispering Vines,  is a 2017 Illumination Award winner.  Amy’s most recent novel, Island of Miracles, is now on sale as well as Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms, her collaboration with the authors of the blog, Y’all Need Jesus.

You may follow Amy on Facebook at http://facebook.com/amyschislerauthor, Twitter @AmySchislerAuth, Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/amyschisler and at http://amyschislerauthor.com.

Amy’s books: Crabbing With Granddad (2013), A Place to Call Home (2014), Picture Me(2015), Whispering Vines (2016), Island of Miracles (2017), Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms (2017)

The 9 Most Important Things I’ve Learned at 47

5-Granada53Today is my birthday, and though my children and I kid that I turn 29 again every year, I really don’t mind people knowing that I am 47. Every day, I remind myself how lucky I am to be alive, be part of my family, have the wonderful friends that I have, and live in the greatest country in the world. Age means nothing to me except that the older I get, the wiser I am, the more experiences I’ve had, the closer to God I grow, and the more I appreciate where I’ve been and what I have. Unfortunately, we live in a throwaway society. There are many stories on the news these days about elderly people being put to death simply because they are old or ill. We throw away things that aren’t broken as well as broken things that can be fixed. Everybody wants to stay young, look young, and only have things that are the newest of their kind. It’s actually quite sad when you think about it. Who says that just because something or someone is old, it or she is no longer any good? Below, are the things that I see as the best part of growing older.

1.  I no longer feel guilty about doing or buying what I want. I’ve had a job since I was 16 years old, and Ken and I have worked hard for everything we have. There’s no reason not to enjoy it.

2.  Although I still have two girls in high school, my children and I are at the point in our lives where we are able to talk to each other and do things together as friends. From going to concerts to vacationing to sharing a glass of wine (since Rebecca turned 21 last month), we are able to relish the friendship that we have spent the past 21, 18, and 16 years cultivating.

3.  I have never really been the kind of person who cares what others think about me, but I have always known the difference between character and reputation. Reaching middle age means that I have established my reputation and assume that people know my character. If they don’t, it’s no longer my problem.

4.  I know exactly who my friends are. The days of trying to fit in, avoid mean girl cliques, and live outside of the popular crowd, are long gone. I know who the people are that I can count on, who the people are with whom I can share secrets, and those with whom I can share a smile and even a cup of coffee but not the intimate details of my life. It’s quite freeing to know that I don’t have to play the games that some people play. I’ve had the same best friends for 40, 23, and 16 years, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

5.  My life is only half over. I’m an eternal optimist, so thinking of my life as half over is foreign to me. Instead, I think of it as only half over. I still have, hopefully, another 47 years to do all of the things I still haven’t done – visit the last four states that I have yet to go to, ride in a hot air balloon, return to the Holy Lands, see my children marry and have children of their own, and walk El Camino (2019 is my target year, right Anne, George, Marian, Anne, Susan, Chandi, Ronnie, and Tammi?).

6.  My parents aren’t getting any younger either. I try to see them as often as possible and spend as much time with them as I can. I cherish our moments together and hope they know that everything I am, have, and believe is due to their love, guidance, and example.

7.  My faith is stronger now than it ever was, and I am still learning more about it every day. Time in prayer has become more treasured and coveted. Reading scripture is a daily habit. I’ve walked with God intermittently over the past 47 years. I want to spend the next 47 walking beside Him every minute of every day.

8.  Even the bad days are good. As happens in everyone’s life now and then, there are days when nothing seems to go right. These are the days when I recall the things that really matter (all of the other things on this list), and remain grateful for what I have. My mother used to tell me time and again, there’s no use crying over spilt milk. Instead of worrying about spilled, spoiling milk, I prefer to seek out and smell the roses because…

9.  Life is a gift and a blessing. We have the ability to do so much, to experience so much, to give of ourselves to others, and be blessed by others in return. We should make every day count and enjoy life to its fullest.

For Lenten inspiration, check out Amy’s collaboration with authors, Anne Kennedy, Susan Anthony, Chandi Owen, and Wendy Clark:  Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms.

Amy Schisler is an award winning author of both children’s books and novels for readers of all ages.  She lives with her husband and three daughters on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Her book, Picture Me, is the recipient of an Illumination Award, placing it among the top three inspirational fiction eBooks of 2015. Her book, Whispering Vines,  is a 2017 Illumination Award winner.  Amy’s most recent novel, Island of Miracles, is now on sale as well as Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms, her collaboration with the authors of the blog, Y’all Need Jesus.

You may follow Amy on Facebook at http://facebook.com/amyschislerauthor, Twitter @AmySchislerAuth, Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/amyschisler and at http://amyschislerauthor.com.

Amy’s books: Crabbing With Granddad (2013), A Place to Call Home (2014), Picture Me(2015), Whispering Vines (2016), Island of Miracles (2017), Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms (2017)

Becoming the Learners

IMG_0505This week so far has been pretty surreal. Katie has already started counting down to “move-in” day, Rebecca is home for what will probably be her last leisurely spring break and her last time “living” in our family home, we’ve started the process of converting Rebecca’s room to my office, and today was spent touring law schools. The end of the school year is approaching faster than I imagined, and I was already aware that it was barreling down on us like a tornado in the Oklahoma summer.

It’s going to feel very strange around here next year. Katie has this wonderful, endearing ability to bring light to every situation. It’s no wonder her class just chose her, “Most Likely to Brighten Your Day.”  I’m really going to miss that ray of sunshine next year. And Rebecca and I have had the best conversations in the few days she’s been home. I’d forgotten how even our disagreements, when done in person and not over texting, can be honest, engaging, and informative. We’ve talked non-stop while cleaning out her room, driving to the law schools, and roaming the halls of academia, while plotting her future, reminiscing about the past, and just enjoying each other’s company.

It’s going to feel strange walking into my office every day and not thinking about the many years she inhabited the room, her Broadway marquee signs mingled with her Washington Capitals posters and inspirational plaques. Her awards and trophies have been packed away, and her favorite pieces of art, map of the world, and globe paperweight have been carefully packed, labeled, and set aside for “Rebecca’s future law office.” As we paint later this week, I know it will feel as if we are erasing one phase of life and replacing it with another. Alas, time marches on whether we’re ready or not.

I think this is why God gave me three daughters. Rebecca is here to show us the way. She taught us how to be parents, what we did right and what we did wrong, how to plant roots and grow a tree, and how to let go. Katie taught us the ups and downs of parenting. She showed us that there are good days and bad days, and we have to be ready for both. She helped us to be more attentive and kind, to better accept and appreciate the differences in all people, and how to let go, have fun, and say goodbye with the knowledge that it isn’t the end of anything but the beginning of everything. And Morgan has taught us patience, perseverance, and persistence. She has shown us how two people with almost identical personalities can be enormously different. She will remain in the nest, for a little longer, while the other two begin to spread wings and take off in flight. We’ll be back where we were twenty-one years ago, just Ken, our daughter, and me. She’ll have us all to herself, and I look forward to watching her grow and make her mark the way Rebecca and Katie have and continue to do. She’s a force to be reckoned with, and I think she will teach us more than both of her sisters combined.

Nobody ever told me that having three daughters was going to be easy. Nobody ever tried to convince me that letting them go would go wouldn’t break my heart. And nobody ever said that saying goodbye wouldn’t bring tears. But I wouldn’t have traded our lives for anything else. In spite of the fights between sisters and the fights between daughters and parents; despite the nights spent worrying about where they were or what they were doing; despite the trials, mistakes, and screw-ups we’ve endured as parents; and despite the sadness of watching them leave, I know that my heart rejoices in the women they are now and are becoming, and my tears of heartache are far outweighed by my tears of joy.

Life hasn’t always been easy parenting three headstrong, independent girls, I mean young women. Sometimes, I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster of never ending ups and downs, harrowing turns, and frightful loop-de-loops. But I guess that’s what parenting is all about. We start out thinking that we are the ones who know everything, who will impart years of wisdom on these young souls, who will be the ones to teach them everything they need to know. I never imagined that it would be I who would learn the most.

For Lenten inspiration, check out Amy’s collaboration with authors, Anne Kennedy, Susan Anthony, Chandi Owen, and Wendy Clark:  Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms.

Amy Schisler is an award winning author of both children’s books and novels for readers of all ages.  She lives with her husband and three daughters on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Her book, Picture Me, is the recipient of an Illumination Award, placing it among the top three inspirational fiction eBooks of 2015. Her book, Whispering Vines,  is a 2017 Illumination Award winner.  Amy’s most recent novel, Island of Miracles, is now on sale as well as Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms, her collaboration with the authors of the blog, Y’all Need Jesus.

You may follow Amy on Facebook at http://facebook.com/amyschislerauthor, Twitter @AmySchislerAuth, Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/amyschisler and at http://amyschislerauthor.com.

Amy’s books: Crabbing With Granddad (2013), A Place to Call Home (2014), Picture Me(2015), Whispering Vines (2016), Island of Miracles (2017), Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms (2017)

Giving More

firemans-parade-1Ash Wednesday is upon us, so for the next 40 days, Christians around the world will be fasting, praying (more), and giving alms. The last one, I believe, is the kicker for most people. It sometimes feels like I am always giving.  Every time I turn around, someone has their hand out – a new organ for the church, new uniforms for the tennis team, fundraising for our girls’ mission team, a read-a-thon for a younger relative, not to mention the man on the street for whom I emptied my pocket that, for some unknown reason, happened to be full of quarters on that particular day last week. Giving is something that we are all asked to do on a daily basis, and I can understand why many people feel overwhelmed by all of the solicitations, as wonderful as some of the groups and circumstances are. But give we (Ken and I) do, and I feel we must; and I’d like to share with you two personal stories that explain why.

Many years ago, when Ken and I were first married, we found ourselves in a very tight spot. We were more than stretched thin, two young kids in their twenties who spent every cent they had ever saved on a modest house in town. I was working as a school librarian while going to UMCP to get my Masters in library science. Ken was holding down three jobs and applying for loans to attend law school. On a particular Sunday, we quarreled on our way to Mass. Ken noticed that, as he drove, I was writing a check to the church to go in the weekly offering. He asked me to stop and void the check because we just didn’t have the money to spare. I kept writing and explained that I felt that, even though we didn’t have much, we had more than many and could give a small portion to the church. After a few minutes of back and forth, he grudgingly relented. I didn’t blame Ken. It wasn’t the money, or the church, or even whether or not we had a few dollars to spare. Ken is a worrier, and I’m not. He lies in bed at night thinking about everything bad that could happen to our family if this or if that. I say my prayers, give any worries I might have over to God, and go to sleep, knowing that I am in good hands.

Anyway, we put our check in the offering, and went on about our business. Two days later, Ken came into the kitchen with a frantic look on his face. I was cooking dinner, and he had been going through the mail. I stopped and looked at him, knowing that something horrible had happened or was about to. With a pained expression, Ken told me that he just realized he had forgotten to pay the mortgage. It was due the very next day, and we had nothing left in our bank account. He was a man without options, and his despair emanated from him, filling the room like the thick, October, Eastern Shore fog. I told him that we would somehow make it work, but he shook his head and left the room, knowing that there was nothing he or I could do to fix the situation. I did what I always do. I prayed. The following morning, Ken left the house at 3:30am to go crabbing. Payday wasn’t until Friday, and I knew he would spend the entire morning trying to figure out a way to rob Peter to pay Paul before the money came through. The school where I worked was out for the summer, so I was in the kitchen doing homework for my graduate classes when Ken returned. After coming in to say hello, Ken headed through the kitchen to go upstairs and get ready for job number two. As he was passing the hutch that his father made for us, he stopped. I watched as a strange expression came over his face. Reaching up onto the top shelf, he picked up a souvenir tin with the Maryland flag on it and shook it. Opening the tin, he pulled out a wad of cash. With elation on his face, he turned to me.

“I forgot that I put this there weeks ago because I didn’t have time to go to the bank. I’m pretty sure it’s exactly the amount we need to pay our mortgage”

He was astonished, and I was relieved but not surprised. Jesus told us in Luke 6:38, “Give, and it will be given to you.”

Another story has to do with our daughter. When Katie was very young, she started displaying some medical issues that were concerning. I took her to see her pediatrician, and the doctor ordered what I believed to be a series of standard tests. Unalarmed, I went home and told Ken that Katie needed to be taken to Johns Hopkins for a breathing test to see whether she had Cystic Fibrosis. Ken immediately broke into tears, not a normal reaction by any means, and certainly not one I expected. He proceeded to tell me that a very close childhood friend of his had CF and defied the odds by surviving until the age of 16. Shocked, and unwilling to consider the possibilities in front of us, I remember shaking my head and saying over and over, “This just can’t be happening.”

On the day of the testing, Ken insisted on taking Katie to Baltimore. I stayed home with Morgan, who was a baby, and made sure Rebecca got to and from school. I was a nervous wreck, totally out of character for me, and Ken was beside himself with grief even before knowing the results. I spent most of the day in prayer waiting for his call. When Ken finally called with the news that Katie did not have CF, he sobbed into the phone, and tears streamed down my face. From that moment on, we’ve been hard-pressed to say no to any charity that involves helping sick or dying children. We are lucky, and truly blessed by God, that Katie grew out of her ailments and now just carries an inhaler that she uses before and sometimes after exercise. It’s hard to look at another parent or child facing the unspeakable and not find myself back in those few days of the unknown. Katie turns eighteen this week, and I cherish every minute she has been alive as a precious gift.

Why do I share these things with you? Because I have a feeling that everyone has their own story. We all have a cause we support, be it breast cancer research, sheltering the homeless, visiting Veterans, or saving soda tabs for the Ronald McDonald House. Our reasons for supporting causes may be different, and some people might not even consciously realize why are they supporting something, but we’re all working, in our own ways, to make the world a little better for someone else. And if we’re not, we should be. If you are reading this on a computer, phone, or tablet, then you have, at a least a little bit, more than others. Even a handful of quarters might help someone more than you know.

So over the next 40 days, as you’re cleaning out your closets to collect 40 bags, or avoiding the candy aisle at the grocery store, I ask you to really think about what you can do to be more generous and to help others in need. So many of us have more than we could ever need or use, including a nice home, new clothes, and good health. I believe we all have something we can give. It doesn’t even have to be money. Can’t we all spend just over a month finding ways to give, whether it’s money, time, or even a prayer for someone in need? Your true and honest generosity, no matter how small, will be greatly rewarded.

Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents.

Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”          Mark 12: 41-44

For more Lenten inspiration, check out Amy’s collaboration with authors, Anne Kennedy and Susan Anthony:  Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms.

Amy Schisler is an award winning author of both children’s books and novels for readers of all ages.  She lives with her husband and three daughters on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Her book, Picture Me, is the recipient of an Illumination Award, placing it among the top three inspirational fiction eBooks of 2015. Her book, Whispering Vines,  is a 2017 Illumination Award winner.  Amy’s most recent novel, Island of Miracles, is now on sale as well as Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms, her collaboration with the authors of the blog, Y’all Need Jesus.

You may follow Amy on Facebook at http://facebook.com/amyschislerauthor, Twitter @AmySchislerAuth, Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/amyschisler and at http://amyschislerauthor.com.

Amy’s books: Crabbing With Granddad (2013), A Place to Call Home (2014), Picture Me(2015), Whispering Vines (2016), Island of Miracles (2017), Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms (2017)