...when spell-check becomes a heart-check
While spell-check in texting is helpful most times, there are moments when the assistance offered completely alters the intent of the message. Such is the case when in recent dialogue about my blog, I received this statement: "I took the time to read your latest bluff."
If you knew the person who sent the text, it would have been easy to . . .
"I'll be glad when..."
The place of my employment is undergoing significant major extensive massive renovation. (Get the picture?) Amidst the upheaval, we are learning to adjust to awkwardly placed workstations, temporary permanent walls (yes, that is a thing), construction sounds, and an occasional unnerving bang of dropped metal conduit on . . .
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 perturbed for feeling so irritated), I clung white-knuckled to the steering wheel, lost in an inarticulate yet . . .
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 . . .
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 . . .