Author: Molly Mitchell
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The Birthday of a Queen
Today happens to be the 26th birthday of one of our family pets. No, she’s not still alive. And yes, this is the birthday I just randomly picked for her because she was a pound puppy without a pedigree or birth certificate and the folks at the shelter said, “Oh probably January.” So January 15th…
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Glitch
Recently a bug bit my Facebook and I’ve been unable to view my “Memories” for a few weeks. Usually able to figure out these types of small annoyances, I began the normal protocol of checking my settings, sending a help message to the FB fix-it desk, deleting and re-installing the app, asking my adult children,…
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Under the Dining Room
Fifteen year old girls are not known for their willingness to accept change. I know this because I’ve been one and I’ve mothered a few. It’s a crummy age to ask certain things of this particular section of the population but life happens within families and sometimes happens in a big way. Occasionally 15-year old…
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And They Were Sore Afraid
The following is a discussion of a topic suggested by a reader. In no way do I consider myself an expert in this arena nor am I a counselor. These words come only from experience and from what I know of God. Fear gets me right in the gut. The actual gut. The where’s-the-nearest-bathroom gut.…
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Shifting Gears
Don’t laugh. I’d never be able to save your life by driving you to the hospital if all you had available for us was a manual transmission car because I can’t drive a stick. So if you’re feeling on the verge of a major health crisis and have me on your guest list for a…
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A Quiet Table
It’s funny how this sneaked up on me. The month of November marks 25 years since Bob entered full-time associate ministry and our merry little band of family dragged into Poulsbo, Washington in a pounding evening rainstorm in two 26-ft. U-Haul trucks, Bob driving one with two kids, his brother Karl driving the other with…
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My Holly Street Home
Once upon a time a skinny teenage girl with long brown hair set foot for the first time on an Idaho sidewalk underneath a row of tall trees in front of a pink brick building on Holly Street and she was home. Those trees are gone. That street is now University Blvd. The pink building…
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Googly-eyed Spiders
For years I made the same spiders out of Styrofoam balls cut in half and painted black. I faithfully jammed eight pipe cleaners (chenille wires if you’re writing Sunday School curriculum and shouldn’t encourage “pipe” anything) into their little bodies and glued on two googly eyes. Many many many times over, year in and year…
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Falling From Horses
My husband has heard me say many times that when I close my eyes in death I hope to wake up on the back of a horse. Now if I’m 90 when I die I also hope that something will have been done about my crummy decrepit 90-year old body so I can at least…
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Diesel Brakes
For a couple different reasons I’m going to have to drop you right down into the middle of this scene without giving you the background. You can get the prequel later. In 1978 when I was a teenager, we were living on the first floor of an old 5-story hotel building that had been converted…
Beyond Lashley Lane 