"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 perturbed for feeling so irritated), I clung white-knuckled to the steering wheel, lost in an inarticulate yet . . .
A hymn, a promise, and an invitation
In his hymn, "Sweet Hour of Prayer," William W. Walford poetically testified, "In seasons of distress and grief, my soul has often found relief." I am mindful that for many of us, those "seasons of distress and grief" often come without warning. A middle-of-the-night phone call, a sudden health crisis, an unforeseen large expense, a . . .
I am very grateful for a work schedule that allows me to linger at the kitchen table in the mornings. This quiet time is filled with reading, writing, and more moments than I care to admit of mindlessly scrolling through social media. The soundtrack to my morning is filled with the peaceful sounds of nature and the occasional rustle of . . .
Recently the IT department where I serve added an additional wireless network, creating both a “Guest” network and an “Employee” network. However, once this dual Wi-Fi environment went online, we discovered a problem. Our guest's electronic devices automatically try to connect to the “Employee” . . .
You Are More Than Your Byline
Not too long ago I was reminded of one of my favorite Veggie Tales, “Madame Blueberry.” Having watched the video countless times over the years (yes, my children were present), I easily recalled Madame Blueberry’s lament, “I’m so blue, I don’t know what to do.” Believing that “happiness waits at . . .
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 . . .
Doesn't Mean You Should
One of the intersections I pass through every day is at the foot of an interstate off-ramp. Because of the duration of the light pattern, drivers tend to pull out their cell phones, put on their makeup, fix their hair, dust off their dashboard, and even clean the inside of their windshield when the light turns red.
One morning, while . . .