Days of Being: January 22

After reading Hubert van Zeller’s Mystery of Suffering, she considered listing her sufferings in her gratitude journal. She wondered: If God draws us to Himself through hard circumstances and if we end up knowing more of Him on the other side of our distress, should there be a degree of thankfulness in the midst of difficulty? Should she thank God for her moderate spell of depression? Should she thank God for those times she screams at her children? Should she thank God for her insecurities, her doubts, her unbelief?

She considered her sufferings, but she couldn’t thank God for them. Instead, she thanked him for beauty—a new painting for the dining area, a great appointment with her therapist, sushi with a dear friend, a meaningful conversation with her daughter.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my January 22s.

I’d love for you to share one of your ordinary moments in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being: December 29

For two hours we drank coffee, well, chai, and we talked about grief and sorrow and joy and life. At one point she told me, “You’re the healthiest person I know.” Ten years ago, I didn’t expect my experiences with mental illness and recovery to prune and form me into a healthier version of myself. And I certainly didn’t expect ever to hear those words from a dear friend.

I’d love for you to share one of your ordinary moments in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my December 29s.

Days of Being: December 28

I arrived home after the final trip of the season to celebrate Christmas with family who live in another city, another state. The quiet of our home stung as I felt the pinch of reentry into the ordinary.


I’d love for you to share one of your ordinary moments in the comments below. Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my December 28s.

Days of Being: December 27

She loved that Dave Eggers included a drawing of a stapler in A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius writing, “Here is a drawing of a stapler.” Maybe one day she would write a book that has a drawing of a stapler.

I’d love for you to share one of your ordinary moments in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my December 27s.

Days of Being: December 10

When she read Ezekiel 36, she loved the imagery of turning hearts of stone into hearts of flesh. She clung to God’s promise to His people to rebuild the ruined places. She longed for heaven, for the great eternal restoration, for the ultimate fulfillment of her ultimate hope.

I’d love for you to share one of your ordinary moments in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my December 10s.

Days of Being: December 5

I walked from my guest cabin to the lodge in the cold darkness of the early morning. Frigid air stung my face as I picked up my pace. Gravel crunched under my feet. A rooster crowed. My phone buzzed with notifications as I neared the lodge where the precious WiFi service awaited me.

I’d love for you to share one of your ordinary moments in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my December 5s.

Days of Being: December 4

While cleaning out my dresser I saw the fuzzy blue socks with white stars that were given to me on the first night of my stay in an inpatient psychiatric facility. They were in the same drawer with some lingerie I no longer wore. I kept both.

I’d love for you to share one of your ordinary moments in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my December 4s.

Days of Being: December 3

It was the first Sunday of Advent—the beginning of a new church year, the beginning of a season that draws Christians into the story of God’s loving provision for His children. She woke before the rest of her family, possibly before the rest of her street. Early weekend mornings were her favorite mornings. She usually had a good chunk of time to herself to read and write and pray. And check social media. The previous night she declared that Sunday, and every Sunday moving forward, would be social media-free. She wanted to refrain from Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram all day until sundown. She wanted to enter more fully into the Sabbath and thought it would be a good idea to put a moratorium on scrolling through the photos, opinions, headlines, memes, cat videos, and everything else.

She walked into the dim living room and dining area—the sun had just begun to rise and offer itself to the night. She grabbed a lighter and lit the first candle of the Advent wreath, and she grabbed her phone and took a photo. She couldn’t help it. (Well, maybe she could have helped it, but she didn’t want to help it.) She edited the image of the burning candle, opened up Instagram, applied the Slumber filter, and posted it along with the Collect for the First Sunday of Advent, Rite One from The Book of Common Prayer. She posted it all to Facebook, too, where she also inserted a statement that she would be off of social media for the rest of the day and if anyone needed her, they could email or call. 

She made some coffee, poured a mugful, and sat down at the dining room table, basking in the glow of that one purple candle. She wrote in her journal and contemplated this season of waiting. 

While she drank, basked, wrote, and contemplated; her phone notified her of the “likes” the photo was receiving. Then she felt good about herself because the photo made her home look clean, warm, and inviting; and people she knew and loved approved her message. 

I’d love for you to share one of your ordinary moments in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my December 3s.

Days of Being: December 2

She dreamed she was pregnant. This was the second time in two weeks that she had dreamed this dream. She didn’t want more children because she could barely handle the two she already had.

She did want more, though. She wanted more life.

I’d love for you to share one of your ordinary moments in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my December 2s.

Days of Being: December 1

While the rain fell outside her cabin in the early morning darkness in the mountains in North Carolina, she inhaled “grace and peace” and exhaled “fear and hate.” She received grace and peace. She let go of fear and hate. Again and again. With every breath, her prayer mingled with the falling water and the promise of dawn.

I’d love for you to share one of your ordinary moments in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my December 1s.

Days of Being: Update

Many thanks to everyone who is reading the Days of Being posts! I’m going to take a short break for the month of November while I serve my freelance copywriting clients and while I participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and write 50,000 words this month for my manuscript. I’ll return with more daily Days of Being posts in December. Wish me luck with NaNoWriMo!

Days of Being: October 29

I was thrilled to discover the main library downtown had an old book I was trying to track down that was first published in 1939. The copy I found on the shelf in the library that always makes me sad because the carpet is worn and the escalator is broken and the resources are low still has the catalog card in the back pocket. The last written entry is dated July 28, 1971, when the overdue fine was five cents per day. This particular book from a later printing is older than I am—it’s closing in on half a century of existence. But I consumed it in one sitting, turning the thick pages laced with that aged book aroma, taking in a story about a woman and her loneliness, a story about all of us.

Your Turn:

Have you ever re-discovered an old book?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 29s.

Days of Being: October 28

My husband surprised me with a huge bunch of sunflowers for no reason except he saw some sunflowers, and he wanted me to see them too.

Your Turn:

What’s the last gift you gave someone?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 28s.

Days of Being: October 27

I hoped a tiny mustard seed was really enough. That’s about how much faith I had that my daughter’s health would improve and that she would recover from her depression and flourish. I begged God to deliver her from her pain and offered Him my speck of faith.

Your Turn:

Why do you hope a tiny mustard seed of faith is enough?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 27s.

Days of Being: October 26

After my daughter’s annual checkup that afternoon, I asked her if she wanted to go back to school to catch the last 45 minutes of her creative writing class. She responded, “Of course.” So I checked her back into school for the last 45 minutes of the school day and waited in the carpool line until she was forced to leave. I wasn’t surprised. Her curiosity and love of learning were as familiar to me as her bright green eyes and dark brown hair. 

Your Turn:

What familiar traits of a loved one have you noticed lately?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 26s.

Days of Being: October 25 (Riley Donlon)

When the alarm clock’s buzz pierced the thick blanket of sleep that covered her, she pressed buttons and more buttons until the alarm stopped. Then she rolled over and retreated back into the safe warmth of sleep. She wasn’t ready to fight against her tired body.

This ordinary moment was written by Riley Donlon. Riley is a 10th grader at Homewood High School in Birmingham, Alabama. She likes to write, watch movies, and be with her friends. 

Your Turn:

What are you not ready for?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below. Or you can send me a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-story project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life and others’ lives are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.”

Days of Being: October 24

She sent the first 21 pages of her new manuscript to a friend, releasing her words, ideas, images, and commentary into a small corner of this wild world. This is what she does, though. She tries to write in community, to receive feedback, to hear what’s working and what’s not working. Writing can be so isolating. Sometimes she feels like she’s alone in a sea of language. But she’s not. There are others around her. They swim and tread water and float and help each other back to the shore when it’s time to return to dry land.

Your Turn:

Who do you turn to for feedback in your work and vocation?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 24s.

Days of Being: October 23

I sit in silence in the space of time between a call with a client and a visit with a dear friend. My eyes trace the patterned grid of sunlight on the floor by our dining room table. The patches of light shift while I stare. The change is barely discernible, but I know the light is not where it was before. As I rotate, as the floor rotates, as we all rotate, the light claims new territory and shines into the shadows.

Your Turn:

Where is the light shining right now?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 23s.

Days of Being: October 22 (Adrianna Wright)

In the rush of another Monday morning—another beginning of another work week—I left home without eating breakfast. But when I walked into the break room, there was a loaf of cinnamon raisin bread (and butter!) for anyone, for me. I received and savored my unexpected gift, nourishment from someone’s small gesture of generosity.

This entry is inspired by an ordinary moment from one of Adrianna Wright’s October 22s. Adrianna is a publicity and publishing consultant, an editor & writer @WheatonCollege alumni mag, a horseback rider and instructor, and a Community Business Coordinator @BNCranberry.

Your Turn:
What’s an unexpected gift you’ve received recently?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below. Or you can send me a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-story project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life and others’ lives are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.”

Days of Being: October 22

The church bells chiming across the street at the top of the hour made me miss the train horns and whistles that used to interrupt our days and nights. The trains didn’t pass by our former home at the top of every hour—each chain of train cars rumbled along the tracks beside our house whenever it was time for them to rumble along the tracks beside our house, their intrusion a reminder that predictability can be elusive.

Your Turn:

Which sounds interrupt your days?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 22s.