<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal ]]></title><description><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal ]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/home</link><generator>RSS for Node</generator><lastBuildDate>Fri, 16 Oct 2026 22:42:58 GMT</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/blog-feed.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Stories  ]]></title><description><![CDATA[There’s this writing spider, she’s known as a “common garden” spider and she has taken up residence in my flower garden. Now, please keep reading because like many of you–I don’t like spiders either. I’m the one who found a large water spider in my closet–the size and resemblance of a tarantula. And in my panic and infinite wisdom, I ran and got the bug spray and drenched the spider with the poison until it fell to the floor. And me, feeling much relieved looked around and my clothes–every...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-stories</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6ac046722291ee73d35a7cc7</guid><pubDate>Sat, 03 Oct 2026 11:57:15 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_7d95a9d6276e4d139858d309bcde55d0~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: A Mark on Us ]]></title><description><![CDATA[It was on a Monday--friends and family trickling in the sanctuary--many already filling the pews. We had come together--to grieve--to reminisce--and to celebrate a life well lived.  The program read, "A Service of Worship to the Glory of God and to celebrate the life of...a man's life that my family had come to know and love.  This dear man--his co-worker and friend, his pastors, and his granddaughter spoke so eloquently--shared stories of conversations and laughter and what he meant to each...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-a-mark-on-us</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6ab5684b0f6358bffa036c66</guid><pubDate>Sat, 26 Sep 2026 11:56:41 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_bfbc11982db04b7fa99379c289ea5a65~mv2.jpeg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: What We Didn't Know Then]]></title><description><![CDATA[It was Wednesday morning–the day following, when the world heard the heartbreaking words, “Dolly Parton has died at the age of 80”.  And it was early–before sun up and I laid there, not ready to get out of bed. I picked up my phone and began seeing all the Dolly social media posts–interviews, songs, movies–all the good things she had done over her lifetime.  And my eyes watered–my pillow caught my tears.   Dolly was a huge part of my childhood–the Lackey family always watched the Porter...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-what-we-didn-t-know-then</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a9b5b46cdf183e0230a461c</guid><pubDate>Sat, 05 Sep 2026 11:45:22 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_a299e94dd9af4a6ea80f8ae360a40a52~mv2.jpeg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: How Do We Love Well?]]></title><description><![CDATA[Recently I visited a Hospice Home–my first ever visit to a Hospice facility. A dear friend of my family is dying. He’s lived close to nine decades.  And just this week, the doctor shared the message with his family–72 hours–maybe, a little longer.   My great-aunt Lena–I’ve shared a little about her before.  She was my bonus grandma–my Grandma Lackey’s sister.  Her house stood in the middle between my childhood home and my grandparents–Papo and Grandmudder Lackey.   She was an independent...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-how-do-we-love-well</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a88f1cc2e2bf8de1e2873aa</guid><pubDate>Sat, 22 Aug 2026 11:42:41 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_be345dad59664fcaa9b83ea82f4ec634~mv2.jpeg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Darkness ]]></title><description><![CDATA[Like many of you, I grew up on well water--our well was located in the backyard--the base--a round circle of concrete stuck out of the ground about three feet--or less, and on top of the mouth of the well was the concrete cover--heavy enough two strong humans had to lift it. Don't sit on the well!!  You'll fall in!! Get away from the well!!  If I had a dollar for every time I heard my Mama shout this to me and my siblings--I would have a thousand dollars--maybe more.  I hated that well!!  Not...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-darkness</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a7f7c9540f3daf10ba065ad</guid><pubDate>Sat, 15 Aug 2026 12:09:05 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_1a92a4ba225043db96634c59d233c44d~mv2.jpeg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal:  A friend always,]]></title><description><![CDATA[This week's cleaning and decluttering involved unearthing a box of my high school yearbooks and I sat for awhile--in the quiet--in a sea of memories--looking through photos and reading messages from friends and classmates. And there it was--her message to me--she, a senior, and me, a sophomore--her brother--a classmate of mine.  She signed in closing--"a friend always". My "a friend always"--she passed away unexpectedly a little over three years ago. I still miss her, as I always will. This...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-a-friend-always</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a75275f2dc76a37da3c3872</guid><pubDate>Sat, 08 Aug 2026 12:02:58 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_499f2525974341248b2e07a5023f5d51~mv2.jpeg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Learning ]]></title><description><![CDATA[I watched as my youngest grandson scooped his net down deep into the sand–pulling up the heavy sand mixed with bits of broken shells, salt water, and seaweed–as seen at first glance.  My grandson–he shook out his net and as the water poured out through the tiny holes–he placed his little hand under the heaviness of the net and pushed what was left and then he began searching–not for shells or shark teeth–but for sand fleas. He’d pick them out from the net one by one–counting them as he...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-learning</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a63535759dc3f2805c5a3e7</guid><pubDate>Sat, 25 Jul 2026 10:30:03 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_49902898ee724a52982bf2412bcb16c9~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Rebloom ]]></title><description><![CDATA[I heard this word the other day--"Rebloom" and yes, I guess when we think about blooms our minds and imaginations turn to flowers and the reblooming of perennials making their way out of the ground--reblooming year after year.     However, on this occasion in this particular text the word “rebloom” was used not in the context of flowers, but with people.  The reblooming of one's soul--mindset--creativity--change--a rebirth you might say.   I recently visited one of my favorite places on the...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-rebloom</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a5ab2755e7d848635dfd855</guid><pubDate>Sat, 18 Jul 2026 00:16:32 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_ab79a79a87b84008bf3f7494e3b74ec5~mv2.png/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Ask me how I know ]]></title><description><![CDATA[Ask me how I know God listens--how He answers prayers.... I made this deal with God.  Well, not so much a deal, but it was something I really wanted to work out and so I said, God, I’m going to pray for thirty days about this one thing and if after thirty days I don’t feel you leading me–then I won’t pursue it.  And God, I’ll not just voice my prayers–I’ll write them down–in a journal for thirty days–every night before I lay my head in sleep. That was in November of 2019.  And almost seven...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-ask-me-how-i-know</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a521dbcc549c55b35b09feb</guid><pubDate>Sat, 11 Jul 2026 11:04:09 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_c8af4cbba7cd41408dc53f4eeb3afb59~mv2.jpeg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Buy the Father's Day Card ]]></title><description><![CDATA[My Daddy always said, 'don't buy me a gift. Just get me a card if you want to get me something.' I stood in front of the Father's Day cards display--and for the first time in my life, I had no need in buying a Father's Day card. And tears washed my face-- My Daddy's passing was still raw--hard to believe--he passed away suddenly on a cold March Friday.  And here it was, already June--Sunday and Father's Day.  The days leading up to this first Father's Day without my Daddy--I said to...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-buy-the-father-s-day-card</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a3536a13306f881e521fc18</guid><pubDate>Sat, 20 Jun 2026 11:33:34 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_e822d43cf9ac48578358e772530a0d02~mv2.jpeg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal:  The Quiltmaker ]]></title><description><![CDATA[She’s from a big family–a middle child.  She began holding a needle and thread in early childhood–her mother was a quilter–a seamstress–her grandmother, great-grandmother and many of her sisters–the same.   Her seamstress days didn’t begin as a quiltmaker–she sewed clothes, doll clothes, curtains–furniture covers–pillows–and out of necessity–darned socks and repaired holes in worn-out jeans–work shirts. This seamstress–she seemed to excel in all she touched with the weaving of fabrics–the...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-the-quiltmaker</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a29f6e2b34d9652f55526be</guid><pubDate>Sat, 13 Jun 2026 11:40:23 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_a09bd4732e9a46e48f97f7c9ed10f143~mv2.jpeg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Never Written (and I need your help) ]]></title><description><![CDATA[We were closing in on three hours of play under a full moon--two summer collegiate teams--battling until the end.  It was a pre-season game--but to be seated here--watching--cheering on these young men--one team with only two practices prior to this game--to true baseball fans--this intense game was as exciting as if we were sitting under the brightest lights in the biggest stadium--witnessing Major League play. Sitting in the bleachers, my mind drifted to memories of my own as a former high...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-never-written-and-i-need-your-help</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a1a159869f69d4475b026cc</guid><pubDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 11:43:48 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_376051d4dd374593b32fae91f97a8c40~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Alive ]]></title><description><![CDATA[I reached for my phone--checking to see if I have any messages from family members--I'm such a sound sleeper.  My notification ringer dings about the time my eyes are adjusting to the morning light--an email--an update. I've been following one of my favorite writers, Sean Dietrich (Sean of the South) and his wife Jamie on their second journey as pilgrims walking the Camino de Santiago trail--a journey of walking five hundred miles across the beautiful country of Spain.  My email--it is his...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-alive</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a0db5818e0cce8d79c8753e</guid><pubDate>Sat, 23 May 2026 10:30:19 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_c641e5ba297245cea37fde1c87c1d94d~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Missing You ]]></title><description><![CDATA[Lord, I scared myself--I'll be honest, I did.  My thoughts--my pen was moving faster than my hand and fingers--my brain could keep up.  My fingers were like a runaway train--I could only hold on--words were shooting out like bolts of fire from a dragon's mouth--but the page--the pen would not burn.  And the flames kept spreading--wider--higher--the ink like blood from an open wound--it kept flowing.  Anger--frustration...we all have these negative feelings at times--we allow "things" of "too...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-missing-you</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a08493fdf43effc8cdf3571</guid><pubDate>Sat, 16 May 2026 11:44:31 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_8bd98c3142e44bd98eda887772a4866a~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Birthdays and Mothers]]></title><description><![CDATA[It was summer--my brothers and my sister's birthdays are in the summer months--mid May and late June.  And I can't recollect which birthday it was--thinking more the June birthdays--anyway on our birthdays--the birthday boy or girl--their gift was a special cake.  Mama baked and decorated our cakes for a few years and then started ordering our special cakes from Key City Bakery.  The bakery cakes spelled out our names on the top of the cake and the white icing on these cake--it was delicious!...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-birthdays-and-mothers</link><guid isPermaLink="false">69fbb9baf97c52037565a695</guid><pubDate>Sat, 09 May 2026 11:39:37 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_af3cada62bb74d9d9403db3bac128ecb~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_976,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Some Stories take Longer]]></title><description><![CDATA[I was in my little writing room with my oldest granddaughter–and she glanced down at my desk where the stack of papers lay–the papers held together by a single large paper clip and then she looked up at me–her smile wide–'ooh, is that a story?'  Yes, it is.  But it's not new. The assignment--the short story started in a classroom in 2002--my first semester back in college--I was in my early forties. The class "Creative Writing" and the students in the class--there were maybe fifteen--twenty...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-some-stories-take-longer</link><guid isPermaLink="false">69f35bdfbba4a2ace46f4f27</guid><pubDate>Sat, 02 May 2026 11:34:42 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_835b0bc23d7146a5a5db22db749c0fe1~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Junk Drawers and Treasure Drawers ]]></title><description><![CDATA[I did something a few weeks ago I only do about every three or four years--maybe even longer.  I cleaned out my junk drawer.  Aw, the junk drawer!  It seems every kitchen has one--or perhaps not. Is the junk drawer in the kitchen a thing of the past?  If so, where does everyone put their "needed" junk?   Like for example the hammer or screwdriver or other small tools--electrical tape--Scotch tape--a slide rule--and oh the keys...the keys! As I was cleaning out my junk drawer I found an...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-junk-drawers-and-treasure-drawers</link><guid isPermaLink="false">69ebd98704fc81dfe259eee9</guid><pubDate>Sat, 25 Apr 2026 11:32:05 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_4101cf922d324e4c8813aded70652758~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Roads We Travel (part two) ]]></title><description><![CDATA[The story Roads We Travel is the second part in a two-part series. A heartfelt thank you. I am humbled and grateful for each of you who read The Saturday Journal and encourage my storytelling along the way. It was in the wee hours of the morning--over 35 years ago and we loaded our sleeping babies in the back seat--tucking them tightly in their car seats--still wearing their pajamas--covered in their favorite blankets.. We were set to hit the road--a ten to eleven hour road trip--at best we...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-roads-we-travel-part-two</link><guid isPermaLink="false">69e26624a96d49e56ebd74b1</guid><pubDate>Sat, 18 Apr 2026 11:30:17 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_516ff5a6b893492b98d72d69a544d24b~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: Roads We Travel (part one) ]]></title><description><![CDATA[The story Roads We Travel is a two-part series. As always, I am humbled and grateful for each of you who read The Saturday Journal and encourage my storytelling along the way. I was walking on my neighborhood road--a cold spring morning and as I rounded the curve at the crest of the hill I saw something move on the black asphalt--it was smack-dab in the center of the road.  An early butterfly. Sweet thing--what are you doing in the middle of the road--on this chilly morning... I've shared...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-roads-we-travel-part-one</link><guid isPermaLink="false">69d97ca246e8409f60b1f602</guid><pubDate>Sat, 11 Apr 2026 11:52:41 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_ccd9bbc59dc24bc2b2769c673c4978f5~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Saturday Journal: The Stillness of Easter]]></title><description><![CDATA[I believe we can all relate in saying much of the time--our lives are too rushed--too much hurry--just too much...and then here we are Easter weekend--and on Saturday--the stillness of Saturday.  I shared this four years ago and wanted to share it again--it holds a special memory for me--one I've been too busy to remember--until I slowed and read the story again... There's a certain stillness of the Last Supper, His Dying, the silence of Saturday and then Sunday--the Resurrection--Easter--the...]]></description><link>https://www.thesaturdayjournal.com/post/the-saturday-journal-the-stillness-of-easter</link><guid isPermaLink="false">69d0f773072d140cb956e84c</guid><pubDate>Sat, 04 Apr 2026 11:51:33 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/c6f6cc_66c3222065c04cb08513cfe173c66b07~mv2.jpg/v1/fit/w_960,h_838,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>tathelmillerwriter</dc:creator></item></channel></rss>