Growing up in a small town seven miles north of our public school campus meant that we had to catch the bus quite early in the morning. Because the high school started first, my sister was usually at the bus stop around 6:15 am. About a half hour later, I would join the other middle schoolers in my neighborhood to wait for our turn on #49.. . .
I love to landscape. It is both therapeutic and cathartic. Something about sinking your hands in dark brown soil and nurturing vibrant green blossoming plants stirs in me a sense of life and health. I feel "at home" in the quiet solitude of mulched gardens filled with flowers, ferns, and shrubs. And honestly, as an . . .
"Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things" (Luke 10:41 NASB).
The One who spoke those words so long ago gently reiterated them to me as I drove to work one recent morning. Agitated (and, frankly, perturbed with myself for feeling so irritated), I clung, white-knuckled to the steering wheel, lost in . . .
"He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds."
Expressing gratitude for the refuge of his relationship with God, hymn-writer, William W. Walford eloquently proclaimed, "Sweet hour of prayer! Sweet hour of prayer that calls me from a world of care." Walford responded to the Spirit's beckoning and experienced the joy and the bliss of encounters with a God who both rescues and heals. His . . .
Discovering God's Grace in the Midst of Loss
Not too long ago, I had the distinct privilege of being interviewed by the extraordinary Rev. John Arnold. Battling cancer and living beyond what he calls his "Expiration Date," John selflessly recorded conversations desiring to "encourage people going through the difficult experience of a terminal medical diagnosis or the loss of a loved . . .
On a recent stroll through the aisles of a discount department store, I came across a large endcap displaying a product called “3 Minute Miracle.” I chuckled, admiring the ample supply of divine favor in shiny-golden tubes at never-before-seen prices.
Further reflection, however, brought an unexpected weightiness as I thought . . .