A sign was posted on a telephone pole by the grocery store: “LOST DOG with three legs, blind in left eye, missing right ear, tail broken, and recently castrated. Answers to the name of Lucky!”
Perhaps you feel just about as “lucky” as that lost dog. Hobbling along. Impaired vision. Broken tail. Well, you get the picture. There was a woman in the Bible who also felt like she was out of luck and had nothing to give. Read more…
Have you ever felt like someone just knocked you over with words…not caring how it made you feel? I know I have. One day my Golden Retriever showed me just how it’s done.
Shortly after we had planted a maple tree in our backyard, we went on vacation. It was the first time we had left Ginger home alone. Read more…
Some people just seem happy and positive all the time. They appear to never worry and fret. These people act like they eat rainbows for breakfast and ride a unicorn to work. But life isn’t all lucky charms. Sometimes it is just plain hard.
We should anticipate trials. Jesus promised trouble. “In this world you will have trouble,” He warned (John 16:33). Read more…
Some called her a Syrophoenician. Some a Canaanite. Some a Gentile. It depends on what translation of the Bible you’re reading. But I call her the audacious faith-filled momma.
Her daughter was sick—said to have been possessed by a demon. When that momma heard Jesus was in town, she ran and fell at His feet. She didn’t care that women weren’t supposed to talk to men in public … especially a Gentile woman to a Jewish man. Read more…
Once, a young girl named Martha Taft was asked to introduce herself to her elementary school classmates. She stood up with self-assurance and said, “My name is Martha Bowers Taft. My great-grandfather was president of the United States. My grandfather was a United States senator. My daddy is the ambassador to Ireland. And I am a Brownie.”
I love her confidence! Read more…
I hugged my pink stuffed poodle to my chest. We were about to have a serious conversation, even though I would be the only one talking. My ten-year-old self looked into his black button eyes and confided the empty ache that I dare not admit to anyone. I didn’t say the words out loud. I didn’t need to. We were close like that. Read more…
It was one of my favorite trees. And it was dying.
We live on a lake, and my dying tree was truly a “tree planted by streams of water.” So how could it be dying? How could branches right in the smack dab middle of the bushy green be turning into kindling? It didn’t make sense.
I called an arborist to come out and take a look. Read more…
I watched a gaggle of eight-year-olds play a game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey. One was blindfolded, spun around in circles, and then pointed in the direction of a donkey posted on the wall. As she made her way toward where she thought the donkey was waiting, her friends yelled out which way she should go.
“Move to the right!”
“Move to the left!”
“You’re getting cold!”
“Now you’re getting warmer!’
“Go up a little!”
Some of the voices intentionally tried to mislead her, Read more…
I sat on the floor playing a card game with my young son. It was shaping up to be one of the best summers ever. Steven was savoring every minute of the long hot days, our Golden Retriever, Ginger, had delivered seven adorable puppies, and after years of negative pregnancy tests and doctor visits, I had a new life growing in my womb. Read more…
I was 16 years old and about 100 pounds soaking wet.
My friend’s dad, Mr. Evans, gathered up a few of us teenagers and drove us to a church just outside my hometown. We were going to give our testimonies at a Saturday night gathering of strangers. I’d never stood behind a podium, spoken into a mic, or stared at a sea of faces thinking I had something to say. Read more…
