2021— Trusting God in Perpetual Wonder
On the first day of 2021, I stood beside our fake Lowe’s tree and removed one ornament at a time. Each one…
Helping Women Move From Fear into Faith
On the first day of 2021, I stood beside our fake Lowe’s tree and removed one ornament at a time. Each one…
I’m convinced God designed me to gather people. To serve them, encourage them and watch magic happen when strangers become friends. I…
Dear Tom, It’s hard to remember my life before you. Somehow, you were always here; always meant to be. I love you falls…
I feel a little jealous when someone says, “I married my best friend!” or “We were high school sweethearts.” I married a…
WE are Christ’s Body—His hands and feet. We are the ones with doors and tables and food that encourage other folks around us.
We got married to be together. For better or worse. Let’s put on love. One touch here. A kiss there. A kind word. Love is made up of lots of little decisions. Let’s wear LOVE like a coat. Let’s wrap our SELVES completely in it.
There were so many times I felt like I couldn’t change another diaper, or survive another tantrum or comfort my daughter through the night when morning would come so quickly. That I’d never be able to enjoy a so-called normal life. But I also recognized the Holy Spirit coaxing me to keep going (without seeing).
I realized today when I tossed those pillows on the swing that the way I’m wired hasn’t curled up and died. My gifts for gathering people and warming up our home so people will feel loved and welcomed. This is who I am. I just haven’t known how to be that person in a different place.
Is your table big enough for folks outside your family? Is your heart large enough to offer a hand of friendship to…
I stepped outside into a beautiful April morning and did a little trimming in our mini-yard. Compared to the acre we lived on earlier, this one is on the tiny side. I happened along into a small spot in between our house and Debbie’s. There, hidden away, is the most beautiful profuse light blush colored rose bush. I was reminded again that I’m reaping things I didn’t sow.
Today I took out an instrument of torture on the lovely path— the instrument I formerly referred to as my bike.
Dolly—my friend of over forty years. It’s funny that when you’re young and nonchalantly making friends, you don’t think ahead to how a friendship might play out. How you’ll find yourself years later, thinking like that person or even talking like her. I realize today that I’m pretty much a compilation of all my relationships plus the Grace of God.