Millie, my daughter’s dog, chases moving shadows in almost frantic obsession. Her shadow-chasing reminds me of James’ description of God as the Father of heavenly lights who does not change like shifting shadows (James 1:17b).
Millie, my daughter’s dog, chases moving shadows in almost frantic obsession. Her shadow-chasing reminds me of James’ description of God as the Father of heavenly lights who does not change like shifting shadows (James 1:17b).
The compassion for God’s creation lingers as part of the legacy of St. Francis* of Assisi. In fact, a crumbling statue of St. Francis embracing a small bird graces my garden and reminds me of my own increasing sensitivities to God’s creation.
I admire people who have the natural gift to build things with their hands. My Dad is one of these types of individuals who can build just about anything. He has made me furniture, accessories for my kitchen, and small trinkets. His gifts are treasured and appreciated. As much as I love these pieces, I would never worship them
“Mom, I want you to homeschool me,” replied my daughter. I could not help but laugh at that comment. The idea of me homeschooling my kids was a hilarious thought, at least that it was I told myself. However, my daughter was very serious about her comment. I knew my only response was to pray about it. When God made it very clear homeschooling was what I was supposed to do, I felt completely unqualified for the task. I struggled in school academically, how in the world could I teach my own? I started bringing all kinds of excuses to God.
When I was in middle school and high school I used to get made fun of because of my name. Smart remarks or jabbing insults about it would cause me to resent the name I was given. As I matured in my walk with the Lord and allowed Him to build my confidence regarding my name, I learned to love and appreciate it.
When I walk into my Mom’s closet her perfume scent immediately reaches my sense of smell. Her clothing, even after washing, still releases that sweet fragrance. Every time I open the door it makes me smile because that aroma is my Mom.
In highschool I had several friends who moved away but we continued to keep in touch by writing each other letters. It allowed me to catch up with what was happening in their lives. Reading their sweet words made it seem as if distance was not a hindrance to our relationship.
I was recently asked the question, “What do you delight in?” Numerous things came to mind, but I can tell you what never crossed my mind—my weaknesses and my difficulties.
My sister and I recently visited Zion National Park with the intention of hiking the easier trails. (We aren’t quite as agile as we used to be.) As we hiked one trail, we were surprised at its steepness and difficulty. We figured the hardest part of the trail must be at the beginning.
These sentiments were spoken by Israel, but I suspect we’ve all felt this way at some point. Trials loom, and God seems absent. We don’t see God working for us, and we wrongly assume He has disregarded us.
I remember the year this verse became permanently embedded in my faith. I was in my thirty’s and was called to lead a ministry that required time, skill, and wisdom I didn’t have. Frankly, I couldn’t understand why God had chosen me for the position. Throughout the year difficulty after difficulty surfaced. In my weakness, I remained bowed spiritually and often physically.
Life can be hard. Some of you right now are experiencing pain or heartache. Perhaps you have a lingering physical illness. Some of you may have experienced the end of a marriage or the death of a loved one. Ongoing personal problems can make a person physically, mentally, or spiritually weak.
We have all heard the saying, “imitation is the greatest form of flattery.” On a recent trip to the beach, I got to watch that play out.
I just love reading what Paul wrote in the New Testament of the Bible. I feel like I am reading his journal because he conveys such a frank and candid message about his life in view of God’s leading.
Ever tried to do something really difficult? Maybe take a few steps to get it done. Survey the necessary course of action, but never quite take it?
My husband absentmindedly set his cell phone on the hood of my car. I did not notice it and took off for the store.
Along the way, I thought I saw something fly off my hood. I did not have a clue what until my husband called me from his business phone, it was his cell phone.
A perfect day for a drive through the country, my friend and I set out to find bluebonnets. We had heard about some good places to look, so with the GPS set for success, we headed out.
“Oh no, that baby turtle is way out in the middle,” I cried. “It should swim closer to shore where the water is shallow!” My granddaughter and I watched that hatchling paddle onward toward the deeper water. I feared for the little turtle until I realized, “No turtle ever worries about how deep the water is!” God designs turtles to swim, and this baby swam toward the deep water with confidence.
“Where do birdies come from, Mama?”
Only God can make a birdie.
“But why, Mama?”
To teach us to sing in the morning.
“But why, Mama?”
They’re back! There’s one. There’s another. Look over there. I see it too! The lightning bugs had returned to brighten the evening hours. The girls squealed with amazement at the sight, and my own mind went back to childhood days when we ran to catch them in Mason jars then marveled at the twinkling container.