The crowd goes nuts. I glance up from my book and watch the excitement on the TV. Crazy football fans with painted faces leap out of their seats, cheering and high-fiving anyone within reach. The announcer hollers and throws his hands in the air.

“What an amazing comeback!” The other guy bobs his head in agreement.

“It’s unbelievable!” he says, “Since the beginning of this second half, these guys don’t even look like the same team!”

I wonder what happened during halftime.

For me, halftime is a good time to grab a snack or hit the restroom. But for the players, it’s a vital part of the game. I’m no football expert, but I’ll bet I know what happened in that locker room during halftime. Those weary players took a much-needed break and reevaluated their game plan. They knew major changes must be made to regain control of this game. Maybe they went into halftime struggling, but they came out with new strategies and strength.

I smile at my football-fanatic husband, now inching toward the edge of our sofa. He’s thrilled. Ever since the big turn-around at halftime, his team is winning.

It reminds me of another amazing turn-around I once witnessed. But that turn-around didn’t happen at a football game. It happened to my husband.

Curt and I met in our early twenties. He had grown up in a Christian home, but despite his mother’s relentless prayers, wasn’t living his life like a Christian.

A few years after we were married, major changes started taking place. I couldn’t see it at the time, but God was working on his heart and creating a new plan for his life. It was halftime.

After halftime, my husband seemed like a different person. He didn’t talk the same. He didn’t act the same. He didn’t live the same. And watching his life inspired me to make changes of my own.

Football games are not won in the first half. It’s what happens in the second half that really counts.

Maybe you’ve been praying for someone who needs a new game plan for their life. A friend. A child. A husband. You might wonder if your prayers will ever be answered. Don’t give up. God hears your prayers.

We can’t see what’s happening in the locker room during halftime. And we can’t see what God is doing in someone else’s heart. Remember: the outcome of the game is yet to be decided. Don’t lose hope. It just might be halftime.

Some days I just love writing. I love it when a great idea hits me as I’m driving down the road or vacuuming the living room. It’s a wonderful thing. I literally get goose bumps. (I know, it doesn’t take much to excite me!)

I love it when my creative juices start flowing and my fingers seem to fly across the keyboard. Writing is so much fun on those days.

I especially love writing when I see positive results. Like when I get an email from an editor that says “yes, we’re interested!” or when I open my mailbox and find a glossy magazine with my name printed in the table of contents.

But I’ll be honest. There are also times I don’t like writing. Those are the days when I have no inspiration. No creativity. I just sit at the computer and feel … blah. It’s discouraging. Writing is no longer fun. It’s hard work. Then my annoying inner voice kicks in.

It’s over. Maybe you’ve written a few decent stories, but that’s in the past.

This is a sign. You’re not supposed to be a writer.

I hate those thoughts. They make me feel like quitting. When this happens I hold on tight to one word: commitment. I made a commitment to pursue this writing thing, so committed I will be.

It reminds me of another commitment I’ve made. Marriage.

For the record, I love my husband. Even after twenty years, there is no one I’d rather hang out with. He makes me laugh, sometimes to the point of tears rolling down my cheeks. And every now and then, he still gives me goose bumps.

But we’ve also had our share of “blah” moments. Times that we’ve struggled. Times I didn’t like him. (And I’m sure he felt the same about me.) Marriage wasn’t fun or easy. It was just plain hard work.

However; when those goose bumps disappeared, we didn’t give up. We stuck by our commitment, worked through it and came out stronger. And when my writing gets difficult, I’m not quitting that either.

The other day a UPS guy dropped off a box of Chicken Soup books at my front door. I was so excited. I had two stories published in this particular book. Suddenly, I fell in love all over again. (With writing of course – not the UPS guy!)

The bottom line is this: feelings are fickle. Just as marriages go through periods of blah, so will my writing. The important thing is to keep working at it and not give up. Whether it’s my writing or my marriage, if I honor my commitment, someday those goose bumps will return again.

I folded my arms and stared out the car’s passenger window. I couldn’t believe this one simple question still caused conflict between my husband and me. What do you want to do this weekend?

I’ll admit Curt’s outgoing personality was one of the qualities I first liked about him. He could talk to anyone, even the stranger standing behind him in the grocery store checkout line. But after we got married, our personality differences became a real problem. Time and again Curt’s desire to socialize clashed with my need for a peaceful evening at home. Now, here we were again, on our way to a party I’d rather not attend.

A popular song from our dating days broke the tension. I turned up the radio and tapped my foot to the lively beat. Curt drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. Before long we were both singing together in unison.

At the chorus, I switched to a higher pitch and harmonized with Curt as he sang the melody. The song sounded even better. We blend pretty well together, I thought. Two different parts added a richness that one voice couldn’t achieve.

As we continued singing, my mind drifted back to our argument. If only we could blend that well in our marriage. Curt and I were so different.

Then suddenly it hit me. That’s how God intended it to be in marriage! God made us different by design. Though our differences sometimes created tension, God knew we’d be better together.

Over time, I started thinking of my marriage like that song. Instead of clashing with my husband, I looked for ways I could blend with him. Instead of arguing with him, I tried understanding him.

We now see how our differences have made us more effective as a couple than we ever could have been individually. Maybe I needed a little push to join the rest of the world. And I think Curt has realized a quiet evening at home isn’t so bad after all.

After almost twenty years of marriage, we are learning to appreciate our differences. We’re getting better at blending, and our marriage is more beautiful today because we each add our part.

Last weekend Curt and I found ourselves in unfamiliar territory. We looked at our calendar—and found nothing on the schedule! It was a beautiful day, so we decided to take the girls fishing at Grandma’s house.

Whenever I visit Mom and Dad’s house, memories of my childhood hit me from every direction. Seriously. There’s not one place on that farm that doesn’t hold some kind of memory for me.

Most of those memories are good. Especially in my younger days. We’d go swimming in the creek. Ride horses through the pasture. Play in the barn. Fish in the pond. I could go on and on.

But to be honest, I do remember a time when I didn’t care much for farm life. My teenage years. Suddenly, life on the farm felt very un-cool.

Now that I’m grown up with a family of my own, my perspective has once again changed. It's funny how differently I now see my parents' farm. I thought I’d share a few examples with you.

  When I was a teenager, living on a farm was too much work. Now it seems like a great place to play.

  Back then, I thought farm life was boring. Now I remember how it can be pretty fun.

At 15, I couldn't wait to get my drivers license. I felt very isolated in the country. Now I think it’s peaceful.

An old farm house, dusty barns, chicken houses … it all seemed so shabby and unsophisticated.
Now I like to say it has lots of “rustic charm.”

Mom and Dad’s farm hasn’t changed over the years. But it looks different to me.
Especially now that I see it through my daughters’ eyes.

I'd love to hear about your childhood home. Do you see it differently today? Leave me a comment and share some of your favorite memories!

I’ve noticed a strange phenomenon at my house the past several years. It doesn’t happen all the time, but every now and then, a very specific item gets added to one of my lists. But here’s the thing. I didn’t add it.  

For example, on my daily to-do list I’ll notice, “buy Emily a dog” at the bottom of the page. While grocery shopping I’ll find the words, “dog food” squeezed into a blank space. And when it comes to Christmas? You guessed it. “A dog for Emily” is usually at the top of the list.

My kids are great at giving hints. Sometimes those hints are obvious – like Emily wanting a dog. Other times they’re more subtle. Like the ones they give while telling me about their day.

Last week Madison shared details of her day on our way to gymnastics.    

First, she told me what she did at recess. Next, she shared something funny her teacher had said. Then she told me about an annoying boy on the bus.

After awhile I drifted into my own thoughts. 

I need to make something quick for supper … I can’t forget to wash Emily’s volleyball uniform tonight ... How should I begin my next story … What is Madison going to wear for picture day …

Suddenly I realized I needed to focus. How else would I catch her little hints? It might be a simple comment she makes. Or a frustrated sigh. Sometimes it's just a feeling I get that says, I think there’s more to the story here. Maybe I should dig a little deeper.

Funny how a question like, “What else did he say?” or “What did she do next?” can lead to all sorts of important information.   

Like most moms I usually have about ten things on my mind at once. But it's important that I set those thoughts aside and really try to listen. After all, she might give a hint that I don’t want to miss.