I shook my head no as she voiced the suggestion, “That sounds lovely, but I don’t think that’s in my budget.” My writing mentor paused and smiled sweetly at me, but she did not budge in her bold suggestion. “I think you should attend this writing conference. I know it’s
I read her Facebook post and paused to consider my mortality. A dear college friend had sat in a doctor’s office that day and heard words that shifted her perspective: “Your days are numbered.” As she shared her recent diagnosis, she asked us to pray that she would know how
Recently I received a distressing email from a friend who has served as a classroom teacher for over four decades. I had asked her how she planned to spend her summer, and she indicated that she was going to take the weekend off to rest but would be working on
She was an unlikely leader, but her love for Jesus moved her to action. From the beginning of her life, she was not what the world would call “strong.” Born a premature baby, she was an ordinary woman who never married and did not have a college education. For years,
My friend invited me to attend a worship concert at her church, and we arrived just as the music started to soar. We scooted into two empty seats in the back row of the sanctuary, but we never sat down and actually remained standing for the duration of the service.
I sat in my beach chair watching as two young girls were building a large kingdom in the sand. They worked in tandem moving buckets of sand and placing them just right to erect a glorious structure. Once they were finished, the two architects stood back and smiled at their
Fall is God’s coloring book. For a short time, everything comes alive in a beautiful display. What glory! The poet Walt Whitman said it well: “Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orchard.” If only we could sit on the front porch and sip pumpkin spice lattes
“It’s not my fault.” This phrase has filled my mind on many occasions when I have felt unfairly accused or criticized. The injustice of the situation overwhelms me with grief, and I want to scream. Sometimes we do everything right, but life goes terribly wrong. Our motives are questioned. Our
Stories rarely end in expected ways. This was a lesson I learned as a high school English teacher. One of the most surprising tragedies for me was a classic American novel where a preacher named Arthur withered away physically because he lived overwhelmed by a secret. His sad tale could
I sat in the room as silently as possible. I dared not speak, because I could not trust my tongue to not lash out. I was sitting in the room with someone who needed my help, and I had shown up to serve with good intentions. But my generosity had