Eleanors Living Diary
Personal reflections and real-life stories that capture everyday grit, grace, and wonder.
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It’s Time That Teaches Us How to Listen…
It’s Time That Teaches Us How to Listen The more time we spend in Scripture,we learn it doesn’t just inform us—it forms us. Those roots don’t rush.They settle deep into our thoughts, our responses, our speech,quietly shaping our hearts and… Continue reading
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Jumping Into the Past: Jeans and Me
Wow, this is such a cool way to reminisce. It’s funny how certain things from our past stick with us. For a minute, I thought there was nothing. I wasn’t attached to dolls or toys, so I assumed this prompt… Continue reading
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Sole Mates — The Second Sock Store
The Problem Every home has a drawer full of lonely socks.Every dryer has never been held accountable.No one is taking responsibility. Until now. Sole Mates Sole Mates is a retail store dedicated exclusively to single socks—specifically the abandoned, widowed, mysteriously… Continue reading
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Remembering Is to Live Again
What has been lived does not dissolve;it persists, asking to be remembered,tugging at my sleeve with borrowed sighs. Time, I have learned, does not proceed cleanly forward.It folds.It sneaks in. Some people want to outrun time.I sit with it.I ask… Continue reading
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The Place That Shows Up With Me
My perfect space isn’t something I build.It doesn’t have walls or windows or a door I need to close behind me. I can’t imagine waiting on a room or a piece of furniture in order to write, as if words,… Continue reading
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The One Who Sleeps Through The Waves
There are storms that roar in which I have no control, storms that roar like they have permission. Winds that arrive without warning, and my spirit asks quietly, “Lord… am I still safe?” But lately, I’ve been learning something in… Continue reading
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No Brush Hair Day – The Declaration
We, the unbrushed and unapologetic, hereby declare one sacred day each year to lay down our brushes. It’s about learning to like yourself even when your reflection looks like tangles, frizz, and cowlicks—just heads full of stories that refuse to… Continue reading
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If You Could Not See Me
I watch the wind, not the rain.I am gentle but alert—the way a bird perches on a power line,still, but not unaware. You won’t know the color of my eyes,but you’ll feel them study you softly. If you could not… Continue reading
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“What Gets Better With Age? (Besides Cheese and Comebacks)”
They say wine gets better with age, oh and cheese too, but truthfully, I’ve never been that patient. What I do know is that I’ve aged like a cast-iron skillet—seasoned by time, strong as ever, and still able to cook… Continue reading
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Romance, As I Know It
Romance, for me, is a living language.It’s not just affection—it’s literature.Spoken almost daily.Dramatic? Certainly. It’s love that arrives through inboxes, crosses time zones, drips across windshields, and flirts shamelessly from traffic lights. My romance is intentional—and that intentionality is understood.It’s choosing… Continue reading
...The Rest Is His Story 