striving for a secret

by Matt Mooney

Check it out, Ginny & Lena are in the current edition of National Geographic.  A while back, a wonderful photographer followed our family around for a few days in order to capture photos illustrative of an article on brain development…fascinating article and wonderful pictures (we think).










If you have been around me much, it does not take long to learn of certain things that come along as a part of the package- tethered to the molecules that combine to make me:

  • At 37, I am still unable to grow any semblance of facial hair.  (This a current hot topic with the mirror because chin-hair in all its many facets is “in” this year and that instantaneously make me “out”.)
  • I am not embarrassed easily….I worded that as a strength but, pretty sure, Ginny would say that my all-day unzipped fly should induce a bit more regret on my part.
  • I can see both sides of almost anything and am apt to take the side that most people are not on- just in order to stir the pot a bit and fight the good fight against homogenization of us all- particularly we Christians.
  • And, I like New Year’s.  Really like it.

It smells of starting over, moving on, reflection and intentionality; these are things I like; as I am always leery that my life is veering slowly away from the full life offered by my Savior and toward a life I despise.   And I am left unaware of how I steered myself to this harbor and equally unaware of how to leave it.

Unfortunately, in my lust for the New Year, I am prone to setup false requirements and illusionary goals that leave me self-loathing when I fall short of things I was never called to.  And so this year, I am striving for something that eludes me as well as those I watch around me.  Contentment.  This is a steady drumbeat for me, so apologies if you have heard all of this before.

I am not easily satisfied and gravitate to problems with a sledgehammer of solutions.  But I always grow tired of swinging the hammer of self-reliance.  My inclination is to fix, tweak and tinker:  I want so much for my kids, so much for the world of 99 Balloons, so much for my city.  Enough is a rare word for me to reflect on.

Is your life enough?

I have pew sat enough to know what the answer should be, but I live out a day-to-day resounding “no”.  I do not know what the correct straddle of working toward an end and simultaneously resting in knowing it is out of my hands, but I plan to pursue a better understanding.  And I feel as though it most likely will require of me to kill off some of the creeping culture around me that constantly asked me to prove myself, show my worth and busy myself with something.

I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  (Philippians 4)


from Fergie to Ferguson

Against my better judgment, Ginny convinced me last Monday to sit beside her and watch the American Music Awards.  I begrudgingly complied- mainly due to the fact that I love her and if she invites me to sit close to her, I do it- every time.  I’m a sucker that way, but that doesn’t mean [...]

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a plea for nuance

                      My post-election social media feeds are half-filled with exclamatory proclamations of a country now headed to greater grandeur than it has known, while another half of the updates, statuses and links swear impending doom for women, children and wage earners. We are a bit [...]

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for the day the calendar says it’s been 8 years.

Today, I will go to the same restaurant, being sure to walk the same route- as best I can remember. And that’s just it, I hate myself for forgetting something about that day- but I can’t recall, what I can’t recall. about the day that changed it all. I tell myself to let it go, [...]

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Crawl. Walk. Run.

It’s been 4 weeks since I have written.  Or bathed. It’s been 4 weeks since Ginny’s back surgery. Thanks to all who have served us so well.  Meals have been made, laundry folded.  Sure, it’s a bit of a downer when you realize that a friend of the opposite gender folded your tightey-whiteys.  I haves [...]

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Almost. Not yet.

Sometimes I write for you. Sometimes I write for me. This is most likely the latter. It’s been quite a season in the Land ‘O Mooneys.  Many of you know that while on our trip to Michigan, Ginny re-injured her back.  And so her vacation headed more toward Purgatory than Petoskey.  [That ole trick that [...]

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