Let’s be honest, Jesus asks us to do scary things. Uncomfortable things. Things that we actually work really hard in our life to avoid.
So many of my childhood summer memories are painted in golden hues. Catching fireflies, campfires, the sun setting behind my grandparents’ lake house, the bright yellow shag carpet in our “midcentury modern” living room.
Phone calls at 3 AM rarely bode well. My sister called me at that time when they were driving through Texas on the way to their vacation. My nephew, Whittan, had 3 seizures and
In honor of my mom’s birthday this week, I thought it would only be fitting to share some of the wisdom I’ve collected from her over the years.
I’ll be turning 57 in a few days. Sounds dangerously close to 60. What scares me about this is not so much the getting older. It’s the ever-lingering question, am I doing enough?
I’m sorry. I just have too much on my plate right now. How many times have I heard (or spoken) those words recently? It’s the mantra of the American woman
Years ago, before I knew fear, I spent weeks out of the summer jumping off the diving board of my grandparents lake house dock — my feet leading me deeper into murky, cool water as the mandatory life-preserver always shot me back to the surface.
Not everyone is in a place in their lives where they can be a foster family. This does not mean that there is nothing else you can do. There are SO many ways you can get involved.
As I sat on those steps, I could feel a shift in the air. The seasons were changing, and it made me wonder if the same could be true for my own.
Every year I get to take a barren piece of land and turn it into something that is beautiful and provides for my family and friends. I watch as a tiny, dormant seed sprouts, grows, and blossoms.
Unwarranted opinions clutter our feeds and our inboxes on a daily basis. Let’s face it; we are a generation of activists,
Anyone else feeling a bit restless lately? Like there’s something more you’re supposed to be doing but you can’t quite get past all the have-to’s of the day to the thing that’s calling out to you?
I have been struggling to find the balance of life these days. One of my main goals this year was to allow myself to hope, to dream a little bigger, not be afraid to expect the impossible.
Hope is a risky thing. Expectation, when life has taught us time and time again that it is a foolish endeavor, well sometimes it feels downright ridiculous.
It strikes me just how quickly the excitement over New Year’s plans and dreams can fade.
“Are you nervous?” He gave me a sideways glance as he looked up from his needle.
“No . . .Should I be?” I retorted confidently, with a hint of sass. I’m sure I was not what he was expecting to walk through the doors of the tattoo parlor.
Does anyone else stop and just say, “Wow, this is my life. This is my husband and these are my kids. This is my house, these are my things, this is my life.”
6:30 p.m... the phone rings. It’s Jarod. “Mom? Hey, so we’re both ok, everyone’s fine… but we were in a wreck…”
I have a confession. I haven’t been been living up to my own words.