In Spring when the Dogwood trees bloom, I think of Christ’s death and resurrection. This year I collected two trays of blossoms for drying in an attempt to hold on to their fleeting beauty and to extend my reflection on the amazing story.
All in Faith/Trust
In Spring when the Dogwood trees bloom, I think of Christ’s death and resurrection. This year I collected two trays of blossoms for drying in an attempt to hold on to their fleeting beauty and to extend my reflection on the amazing story.
As a young wife and mother, I thought I had the perfect blueprint for our family. My intention was to have two children. No more. Within a few years we had two wonderful little boys. When I learned that I was expecting baby number three, I was extremely upset.
What are you waiting for right now? Your coffee to kick in? Your kids to finish their breakfast? The traffic light to turn green? We are always waiting for something. Life just kinda moves like that, doesn't it? It's such a "hurry up and wait" world.
My parents live in an historic home settled on fifteen acres surrounded by thick woods and a beautiful pond. It is a wonderland for my girls to explore and play because there is always something happening. Whether it is watching deer by the back door, riding on the tractor to pick up tree brush, or walking to the pond to check the turtle trap, it is a place of adventure and excitement.
My husband and I closed the back of the U-Haul truck with the final load from our home. We were moving hours away to be close to family. Before driving away from my hometown, we had to make one final stop to my friend Natalie’s house.
My girls were invited to a homeschool Christmas party at a local church. Arriving at the event, we could see that the other students were playing on the playground while the adults were setting up the activities for that afternoon.
My family and I received some terrible news a few months ago. My nephew was no longer with us. The event shook my family to the core.
My five year old loves to sing. One particular morning she was in the bathroom looking in the mirror, brushing her hair, and singing. She was belting out a tune at the top of her little lungs. It was a song she put together using truths she had learned in school.
Those who walk closely with the Lord will at times find their paths taking unexpected turns. That is God’s design. He plans our walk with Him to be faith growing. And so, He leads us in directions that challenge us and force dependence upon Him.
As a young wife and mother, I thought I had the perfect blueprint for our family. My intention was to have two children. No more. Within a few years we had two wonderful little boys. When I learned that I was expecting baby number three, I was extremely upset.
Several years ago, “What Would Jesus Do?” was a popular phrase among Christians. This was the measure to use in decision-making. Pattern your behavior after Him. Not a bad idea, right? It’s a little harder to put into practice.
When I was a child, there was a “Mr. Men” and “Little Miss” book series written by Roger Hargreaves. The characters in the stories had dominant personality traits that either caused them problems or showed another character how to engage in the positive quality. Everyone learned something through the moral lesson of story.
Paychecks, health and relationships represent just a few things I’ve placed too much trust in. I can continue the list with government and educational systems. Each one, at some time, has disappointed me. Each one tempts me with my trust.
The front door slammed and there in the entryway stood my little brother, tear-streaks lining his muddy face. He was holding one tennis shoe, standing in saggy tube socks.
How about cleaning out some of those bins full of journals?My husband had a legitimate point. He had moved the bins of Bible studies and notebooks from attic to attic during the last fifteen years we’d been married. I lifted the lid and memories flooded my mind. Journaling in my childhood bedroom. Scribbling away under a lush Magnolia tree at Baylor. Pouring out my heart on lonely nights in my small apartment. That bubbly handwriting of my youth eventually gave way to chicken scratch that makes my children cringe today.
I play a little game with my son where I ask him how much I love him. He replies in numbers. The joke is that he usually says, “zero” or “one.” Then I correct him with the craziest number I can make up, which is undoubtedly unscientific, followed by tickles and laughter. There is no number that can express quantitatively how much I love my children. Though we play silly games, my son knows that I love him. He believes it. He trusts me, he trusts in my unfailing love.
Have you ever had a conversation that helped you reframe a current circumstance? Recently my husband’s comments about a difficult situation provided me much-needed perspective.
A month or so before a particular day, I had made arrangements to take off work to go to a meeting at church. In my excitement that morning, I chose to leave my house early.
My mother and sister were artisans when it came to counted cross-stitch. Carefully and meticulously, they added stitch by tiny stitch until the blank canvas was transformed into a stunning masterpiece.
How easy is it to release a suitcase onto the conveyor belt at a busy airport check-in counter with the possibility of never seeing it again? Airport baggage handlers are trained and responsible to correctly tag luggage for airline flights, but there are no guarantees that suitcases will travel on the same flight and be available to reclaim on the other end.