Link to the Just Love post

Just Love

When my first marriage ended, I was heartbroken, confused, and lonelier than I’d ever been. I didn’t think I could feel any sadder, until my ex-husband re-married, surrounded by many mutual...
Link to the An Abundant Kingdom post

An Abundant Kingdom

As a younger sibling, my daughter has never known what it is like to have me all to herself, and while I have poured myself out in so many ways, somehow her little heart is wired towards scarcity. She...
Link to the If Jesus Drove a Snow Plow post

If Jesus Drove a Snow Plow

I watched the snowplows weave seamlessly in and out of driveways from my townhouse window. The tires rotated every which way, unthreatened by the slippery mush underneath. Inches of snow seemed to...
Link to the The Lord Our Help post

The Lord Our Help

It’s really hard to turn the other cheek and it is even harder to bless those who wrong me. But this is what Paul is talking about in this passage. He said that “vengeance is the Lord’s.”...
Link to the Wounds from a Friend post

Wounds from a Friend

Some of us are more comfortable with confrontation than others. No matter our comfort levels, there are times when confrontation is the most loving thing we can do for another person. 
Link to the Ask for It post

Ask for It

The stories in the gospels always amaze me. Here you have this blind man named Bartimaeus on the side of the road wanting desperately to be healed.
Link to the Not Keeping Up with the Joneses post

Not Keeping Up with the Joneses

We’ve all heard it said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” And yet, this doesn’t keep many of us from pursuing lives that mirror ones from others we admire or worse, idolize.
Link to the Jesus Welcomes the Childlike post

Jesus Welcomes the Childlike

Adults like to declare they’ve outgrown the playfulness of birthdays and Christmas at some point in life. They may like celebrating, just not feeling silly.
Link to the Make Good Habits post

Make Good Habits

Sister Ambrose, with thick arms folded across her black habit, looked into my eyes only; it seemed.  In her eighties, my eighth-grade teacher tapped her cane against a cast iron desk, asking, “What...