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Sitting on the Atlantic shoreline with my friend, our conversation turned to the joys and challenges of godly parenting. She stated, “My goal in parenting is to be the kind of parent to my children that God is to me”. She paused. I don’t know whether the pause was
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Helping hands. We all need them. Especially when we face unexpected circumstances. One of the greatest challenges of being a traveling single woman is the ongoing threat of car trouble. After a recent book signing, I loaded the car in preparation for the return trip home. Packed and
There is a way to pull ourselves out of the pit of despair and grief. A way that takes courage and a strong will. The guidance that looks beyond our situation and sees from a higher realm. A path that turns our eyes from the ashes of loss to the beauty of life. Hear me. I know. A
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Obedience is tricky. Sometimes we like rules and boundaries; other times we rebel against being told what to do. I’m a leader and I’m a follower. I take my following cues from what I see others doing more than what I hear them say. If I am told to do one thing yet my
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Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always
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Parenting. A wide-open plain of questions, trial and error, guilt, confusion and prayer. To help bring comfort, I accepted an invitation to be part of a four-member MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) panel. At this event, young moms could ask questions relating to motherhood, marriage,
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God’s Dragonfly In my first book, “The Making of a Dragonfly”, I share life stories and challenges from the perspective of one who has walked through hardships holding the hand of God with a steadfast faith. My heart’s desire is to walk in obedience to my
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A few years ago, I awakened at 3 a.m. with a phrase repeating in my thoughts. It had become customary for God to encourage me in this way in the wee hours of the morning. Not wanting to forget the words echoing in my mind, I grabbed pen and paper and quickly jotted them down. What I
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I was at a conference listening as the keynote speaker expressed her love for Jesus. An inner, deep stirring began as I realized I did not speak the name, Jesus. I feared calling him by his name would allow him to see my broken and sinful heart. By not using the name, I reasoned I
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Rejection wounded me as a young girl, and the fear of rejection accompanied me into almost every relationship afterward. This fear held me captive in an invisible cage where I hugged the sides and whimpered at the thought of escaping into the spacious world of friendships. My heart
