To be known and loved by people is vital in this world. But, to pray for them or to be prayed for by them, that’s a hint of Heaven. How do we help our friends? We write cards, send flowers, and bake casseroles in times of need. We help them
“Your eyes saw me when I was inside the womb. All the days ordained for me were recorded in your scroll before one of them came into existence.” – Psalm 139:16 In Genesis 49, we see Jacob at the end of his life speaking words over his sons’ lives. These
We were sitting on the couch in our pajamas reading a story and eating goldfish crackers. “Wasn’t that a great story about Jesus? We love Jesus!” I exclaimed to my grandson as I laid the children’s Bible on the coffee table. Suddenly, the pint-sized evangelist sitting between my husband
Change and loss are a few of life’s realities that I have become very familiar with over the last ten years. I remember the moment I received the call about my dad passing away, but I remember even more clearly the moments leading up to taking that dreaded phone call.
Years ago, I got a text message from one of the pastors at our church asking us to pray for his close friend. All we knew was that the man and his wife were at the hospital. I remember that my husband and I stood in our kitchen and clasped
Truth be told, the account in Genesis breaks my heart. I see a people so loved by God; I see Rebekah whom God had already told what her sons would become; I see Isaac favoring one son; I see Jacob going along with the deceit, and my heart breaks because
Our reading in Genesis today is kind of nostalgic for me. I love that the people of the earth all spoke the same language and were in one accord. I really love that setting. But because of the nature of sin that had already begun to eat deeply and consistently
The fact that God didn’t rescue Jesus from the cross is one of the hardest truths to accept. Jesus willingly and obediently endured the unimaginable so we wouldn’t have to. There was no shortcut to the cross nor a dulling of the pain our Lord had to suffer. The truth
I sat at our kitchen table as conversations swirled around me. There were empty pizza boxes, sticky bowls from ice cream, games waiting to be played, but what drew my attention were the soft voices of the three cousins I could see in our living room. I could tell by
One of the last times I shared the gospel it did not go well. Actually, it was a disaster. Two young ladies approached me in a Barnes and Noble bookstore while I was shopping for a journaling bible. Maybe because I was in that specific section, they felt it would
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