The Psalmist writes, Your Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light for my path (Psalms 119:105). If, like myself, you have unexpectedly found yourself on a dark path and wished you had a flashlight, a blazing torch, or that handy-dandy flashlight app on your cell phone. Anything for a light source to keep you from falling would be appreciated.
Falling leaves, cool mornings, the first hint of Autumn and I am warming up apple cider and baking pumpkin bread. Yep, that's me----an Autumn fanatic!!!! Jumping up and down at the mention of needing to put a sweater on to watch the sunset. We Texans, look forward to that first pot of chili and hot cornbread right out of the oven.
I could not believe my eyes when I saw it. It looked like a huge tree had grown up inside an old house and the branches had pushed out through all of the windows.
Historians feel Jesus taught the Sermon on the Mount in the gently sloping hillsides of the northwest corner of the Sea of Galilee. When you go there you can see small towns situated on the tops and sides of the hills. These towns are not hidden even at night you can see them.
Recently, I was in a store when without warning all of the lights went out. For a few seconds, there was complete darkness. I could see nothing, until the store's generators came on, bringing a dim light that barely enabled maneuvering down aisles. I noticed people returning their carts and leaving. Not me! I turned on my phone's flashlight and finished my shopping. B ut I admit , functioning in darkness was not easy.
I’d patched it twice—a dab of spackling and a dollop of paint. I noticed it again while dusting the mantle. That small crack in the wall had returned. As I poked around, I discovered additional soft spots surrounding the crack. This could not be good! Bob-the-handy-man agreed. It could be water damage, dry rot or, even worse, termite damage.
Driving through the neighborhood, My husband and I admired the numerous trees that were changing from green to beautiful yellows, reds and oranges.
Have you ever felt that regardless how much you do to please that significant person, it will never be enough? No matter how hard you try, you’ll never measure up to his expectations? Has the dream of love from your younger years been shattered?
My daughter is grieving over the death of a friend who took her own life. Death is hard, but even more so when despair leads to an end no one expected. My daughter and I talk frequently, and “How are you doing?” is a question I repeatedly ask.
Ever felt like you had experienced banishment to a pagan land? I did when we moved to South Texas. Even though our daughter, son-in-law, and grandson lived in Houston, I did not relish moving there. My husband’s new job required the move so I did not really have a choice.
My husband and I help with baptism on Sunday mornings. As the first service finished up, I carefully counted out the towels for the the second service and stacked them up neatly.
I love to watch a woman in our neighborhood when she goes for an exercise walk. She does not simply walk. I think I would describe it more as a dance. She does it with great enthusiasm and seemingly little care as to what others observing her might think. Her enjoyment of her activity is quite evident and inspiring.
When my youngest grandson does not want to do something I would like for him to do, he responds with: “I’m not allowed to do that!” Quickly, I remind him he IS allowed to obey his grandmother because she loves him and would not ask him to do anything harmful.
When my daughter decided to decorate her new baby’s room in Hyland cows, my sister-in-law sent me a pattern to do an appliqué of one on the sewing machine. She thought using the leftover scraps from the baby quilt I had done made a great idea. She even supplied me with a YouTube video about how to do it.
My oldest daughter loves her drama class. She enjoys the spotlight, developing her character, and entertaining the audience. One of the most important lessons she has learned in drama class is to pay careful attention to the vision the director is trying to achieve from the cast. If one fails to pay attention then the whole production could go wrong. In essence, many are affected, cues for lines are missed, timing is all wrong and the mood the director is trying to achieve is blurred. Paying attention is critical to the overall success of the play.
The story of the Samaritan woman has popped up many times in my life lately. Whether in a sermon, study, or on the radio—The Woman at the Well has continued to knock on the door to my heart.
Amid the feverish unpacking of boxes I heard the chime of the doorbell. When I opened the front door I discovered our teenage neighbor standing there with cookies, flowers, and a card in her hands.
