God doesn’t want to be a stranger. He doesn’t condescend our failures, He descended to our places. He walked our dusty paths and traveled well-worn roads to meet us. He’ll come and meet you, right where you are. God is not unknowable. He doesn’t stand aloft, aloof; He waits patiently for invitation. He wants you to cry out to Him, call on Him, count on Him. He is
I know that God is always working, never sleeping, never lazy. He is not loligagging about on Sunday morning with coffee, and paper, and slightly crooked reading glasses while He waits for the Mrs. to make His over-easy eggs. I know that God is ever loving; He is not standing back and pointing fingers, consternation in His eyes, glaring at my paltry attempts of goodness or rightness or simply being
Baby announcement! Meet Snapchat, our very first baby born on the homestead. Snapchat is a silky chicken, as you can tell by his/her small stature and extra toes. Snapchat is an adorable teeny sleepy little baby chick. And I am in awe at God’s little miracles and this tiny life that hatched in our chicken coop, discovered by the hubby when we he stopped in to gather the eggs. The
I want to be great. Is that so wrong? To want to be great if greatness happens for great reasons? I want to great so I can write great blog posts that apply a loving dose of healing balm to the tender, irritated places of your heart. I want to be great so I can write great books that move you to do even greater things in the name of Christ. I want
Sunrise and sunset, the dawning and the drawing to a close. The beginning and the ending. The new and the old. Sunrise, finds me wading through the garden mud, coffee cup in one hand, hose in the other, weeding, watering, picking, pruning. Planting and praying. Ready for the dawning of the fresh new day, full of possibility and potential. Ready for growth. Poised for hope. Pleading for His Grace, with
Lest we feel like less of a God-follower. Lest we feel unspiritual. Lest we feel like we aren’t spiritual enough, good enough, holy enough to have visions and dreams and holy moments that are unmistakably from God. Lest we compare our walk with God to the walk of the ancients, the mystics, the monks. Lest we feel less, God loves our efforts made in faith, our moments crafted in hope,
They are my Plan A. I always wanted them. Never for a second did I have to hesitate, to wonder if they were the wrong ones for me. In that moment, I chose to give them my love and never ever take it back. When I received that call from the social worker requesting a placement, I chose yes. I chose them. In that moment, I had the privilege of
I love my garden. It is my oasis, my grocery store, my space to be quiet and think, my sanctuary to meditate, an emblem of hope for the fruit and vegetables that are to come. Growth is slow, it is not instant. My little plot is far from finished. I have lots more seeds to plant. Some of them are waiting because I haven’t had time to construct their trellis.
This world makes my head spin in crazy circles and it makes my breath catch and my stomach lurch when I think of all of the bad things that could and might and will happen in the lives of my precious little babies, these small people, so fresh on this earth, sprouting and growing and still rich in their innocence and wonder and joy and the peace of their unknowingness.