The sunlight streamed through the window on the first Saturday afternoon in April. My daughters and nieces were at my feet, the golden threads of their “Chinese princess dresses” glistening in the sun. Their antics were the only thing that kept me from needing to use the Kleenex I’d wrapped around my bouquet. To my…
They ring loud in my ears, the words that I just said. I bow my head, silenced in my shame. That tone, those words—unworthy of His name. I can’t take them back. I can’t erase the hurt, the pain. I can only pray that next time, the louder words will be His words, within my…
At the beginning of this year, I decided I wanted to begin learning American Sign Language. A rather lofty goal for someone who hardly has time to get to her to-do list, let alone to learn a new language! But my plan was to learn along with my girls, teaching them their ABC’s and their…
It starts out in the middle of a drug bust in an old downtown warehouse. And from the first chapter, it’s clear Gina Lindsey is carrying extra weight around on every job she performs as a police officer—the weight of guilt for events which she can’t forgive herself. But before you know it, she’s set…
We’re a fan of Liz Curtis Higgs’ children’s books around here—each of her parable stories center around “the farmer,” making them extra delightful to this farmer’s family. So I was excited when I found out that this month’s review options from Tommy Nelson Publishers included The Parable of the Lily. This story begins with the…
Writing is brave work. Putting pen to paper, fingers to keyboard. Stringing words together. It’s all easy enough for a lover of words. Until you press “Publish.” Before you hit “Print.” And then, the very heart of you lays bare for the world to read. That molding and scraping the Lord was doing in your…
When our third little one had tummy issues and I had to go off dairy, people started recommending probiotics. But I didn’t know where to start. So I didn’t. Until a friend asked if I was interested in some water kefir grains. I’d only ever heard of milk kefir—and sour milk didn’t sound appetizing to…
On the warm summer evenings, it’s outside on the patio, nestled in the big wicker chair my husband got for me. Late at night, it’s propped up on pillows in our bed as I try to convince my little one to eat his fill before we all get some sleep. On Sunday afternoons, when our…
Nothing can run on empty forever. I can always tell when the gauge is getting near “E”. So why don’t I do something about it before I’m running on fumes? The empty sleep tank can’t always be helped. The ability to fill the sunshine tank depends on the time of year. And the quiet tank…
“Everyone was anxious to have all his homework done before supper, because then came the most beautiful time of the day, the evenings spent together. A fire was lit in the fireplace. The older girls brought their knitting, the younger ones, their dolls or dwarfies; the boys and their father usually worked on wood, carving…
I never quite know when it will manifest itself, this ache of the shadowlands. Sometimes, it’s in the long days, the up-all-night exhaustion, the longing for rest. Others, it’s in the goodbyes and the distance. The never-quite-enough fellowship and conversation that leaves me longing for the time when relationships won’t be marred by sin, hindered…
It’s the dirt and saw dust and chainsaw bar oil on my daddy’s clothes and hands and face every night when he came home from work. It’s the way my husband’s kisses taste of sweat and soil, the way his laundry has the lingering traces of manure and mud. It’s the way my brother works…
The End.
The End.