Gail B. Hyatt

As the mother of five daughters, I have had no greater joy than watching my girls grow up into remarkable women. Sure I miss watching them take their first wobbly steps, struggling to master the pedals on a bicycle, and assembling shadow boxes for a 5th grade history project. But watching them grow up and leaving those childhoods behind has been my greatest joy.

Three weeks ago today, Madeline’s (23 year, old daughter #4) boyfriend Shawn was hit by a car while riding his bicycle. It was a hit-and-run accident and he has no memory of it until he woke up in the ambulance. His hip was badly fractured. He had minor spine fractures, numerous cuts and scrapes and a terrible road rash on his hip and leg that was about two feet long.  After being hospitalized following major surgery he came to our home to recover. Read more…

Don’t ask me how I got this way, but I just don’t struggle with worry. I know it’s a gift and I am eternally grateful for it. I don’t struggle with fear. My mind doesn’t immediately run to the “worst case scenario.”

Maybe it’s because my folks weren’t big worriers. I grew up in a family with a lot of love and a lot of security. (What a gift to give to your kids!) My folks had a great trust-relationship with God and they with each other. I just didn’t learn to worry. Read more…

“Bloom Where You Are Planted.” This one phrase encapsulates the philosophy by which my mother lived. She and my dad moved 28 times during their 61 years of marriage—and I’m talking different cities, different states, different countries. My oldest brother, bore the brunt of it. I remember him telling me that he went to four different high schools.

Somewhere, early on, she adopted this modus operandi. As soon—and I mean THE VERY DAY the truck unloaded—as soon as the doors to the new house were unlocked, boxes were unpacked, beds were made, pictures quickly hung in their spots and a roast would be in the oven. I kid you not. Next up, her mission was to meet the neighbors, find a church, a bridge club and a garden club to join. Goal: Get planted. Then bloom. Read more…