TV shows in the 1980s liked to dorecap episodes, where nothing new happens and the main characters sit around reminiscing about their previous adventures— entire shows dedicated to edited clips of previous shows. In the ‘80s, I didn’t like them. Forward movement was all I wanted. photo

I don’t know if primetime shows still do those episodes. My work schedule and interests keep me on the History Channel, BBC America, and of course, late night ‘80’s reruns. But I’m learning to appreciate those old throwbacks, mostly because of a revelation I had with my fellow Sunday School teacher, Ms. Jennifer.

Ms. Jennifer is a dance instructor in her daily life. She’s energetic, creative, and fun to be around, which is perfect for the skillful corralling of donut-filled 2
nd and 3rd graders and their glitter projects.

Recently, a prominent couple at the church retired and said their goodbyes to
everyone as they look to move northward to the next phase of their life. I’ll miss them—we’ll all miss them, and greatly. But I see life as a continuum, not a series of starts and stops, so I’m looking forward to a trip north to visit once they get settled. Ms. Jennifer is different—she lives so fully in the present that she took the time to explore this change and really feel what it meant for her. She did her own memory recap, if you will, and I suddenly saw the great importance of this process. The world needs people like her, so that we stop and remember.

Ms. Jennifer is the one marking the miles and milestones. She reminds us to fully appreciate where we are today, by showing us how far we’ve come.

With that, I give you a look back at my January blogs, my never-thought-I’d-do-this recap episode, but with a twist. This is how I see January, delivered in the blog:


Behind the scenes, thanks to the new computer I gifted to myself at Christmas, I found I could touch a key and the computer immediately reacted, who knew? I suddenly discovered that I wanted to post more often, and thought shorter bursts might be interesting to try. Some days the writing flowed, and others, it was a struggle—a labor of love, I suppose, because in the midst of frustration I found myself happy about the struggle.

I see the moods of January, having fun with my Mom and nephew and my Dad and remembering the words of my Grandpap, the angst of paying my health insurance bill, the appreciation and the avoidance of the polar vortex, inspiration from a book read and a book written, the questions I have, and the love of putting words to the page, no matter how revealing.

Ah, now you: Pieces resonate differently with different readers. You gravitate toward specific posts in ways I couldn’t have predicted. And we picked up more readership in January—I say “we” because they’re reading my posts as much as they’re reading your insightful comments.

So, thank you, each of you, for a great January! The journey has only just begun…