Last Sunday my pastor had to do some housekeepin’ fussin’ at our congregation before he started his sermon. It was a “Visitors, close your ears” moment as Jimmy interrupted the service for an important message from our neighbors.
See, right beside our church property is a City Park. On Sundays, when our parking lot is full, we tend to use the City Park lot for our overflow parking. Read more…
I sat with my first cup of coffee on Saturday morning, reading the Living Section of the newspaper.
Steve, a non-coffee-drinker, read the editorial page.
He stopped to read an article out loud. It is a common practice between us. Even though we know the other will read it eventually, when something stirs us, Read more…
We all have defining moments in our lives.
The most important one is when we accept Jesus as Savior and Lord.
I became a Christian when I was a teenager, but it would be many, many years before I stopped living like a spiritual pauper and started living like a child of the King. I wonder if you can relate? Read more…
He burned the plow. Now before you decide that this post is too strange, I challenge you to stick with me a minute. Sometimes when I’m reading the Bible, one little sentence jumps out and grabs me by the heart. That’s what happened today when I read 1 Kings 19:19-21. Take a look… Read more
Talk to any mom and ask what a two-year-old’s favorite word is and most will agree. It’s “no.”
When my son was two years old, it certainly was his.
“Steven, put up your toys,” was met by, “No.”
“Steven, time for a nap,” was countered with, “No.”
“Steven, eat your green beans,” was resisted with, Read more…
That’s exactly the quandary I found myself stuck in several years ago.
After I had gone to college for two years, I returned to my hometown to work as a dental hygienist. But the following spring, I felt a tug to return to college and continue my education. I prayed and looked into various programs, but couldn’t get clear direction from God. Read more…
I can still remember the Saturday night rituals at my house when I was six-years-old. My mother wound my sun-streaked ash blonde hair in what seemed like a hundred pink sponge rollers. She’d swipe her middle and pointer fingers through the sticky jar of blue Dippidy-Do, slather it on a swatch of hair, and then wind the sponge round and round. Read more…
He ironed. I watched.
I stood in the door frame of my guest room, watching my nephew, Jonathan, iron the wrinkles out of his crumpled shirt – the rumpled creases out of his crumpled heart.
He ironed and talked. I watched and listened.
Jonathan, my twenty-seven-year-old nephew, stopped by for a visit on his way to a wedding in my hometown. Read more…
I’ve been thinking about broken dreams lately.
We’ve all got them. Just different ones.
So what are you going to do with yours?
[tweetherder]Could it be that God is waiting for you to give Him the broken pieces of your shattered dreams so that He can make a beautiful mosaic from them?[/tweetherder]
Could it be that you are clinging tightly to the shards and refusing to let them go? Read more…
I have often heard the phrase, “A picture paints a thousand words.” So today, instead of writing a thousand words, I’m just going to write a few. I’m going to let the picture do all the talking.
A friend of mine from El Paso, Texas, gave me this sucker as a souvenir from her hometown. It was supposed to be a joke, Read more…