Indholdsfortegnelse for March/April 2022 i Mornings with Jesus

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.2 CORINTHIANS 5:17 (ESV) IN THE SUMMER OF 2003, my mom learned—to her shock and disbelief—that she was pregnant. This news wouldn’t have been so shocking had she not been suffering from a mysterious illness—one that’d left her with failing kidneys, an enlarged heart, and the certainty that she’d never be able to conceive again. Taking my mom’s poor health into account, as well as the worrisome fact that she’d already had four previous C-sections, doctors were convinced that she and the baby would die during the delivery. My mom was devastated—but a few weeks later she had a dream that changed her life forever. In the dream, my mom…

MY BOAT’S GALLEY CUPBOARDS ARE stained a deep reddish-brown. The glossy doors look beautiful set against the surrounding off-white walls. Their interiors, however, are a different matter. Humidity levels run high from November through April because we live in a wet climate. As a result, condensation collects and mildew grows easily and often unnoticed in dark, damp places—like deep inside my galley cabinets. All looks good on the outside, but I must be aware of what lurks in the hidden places and then deal with it. A couple times each year, I dig into the recesses of my cupboards and do a deep cleaning. I wash the walls and treat them with a solution that kills mildew and helps slow future growth. I never relish doing this job, but I…

I KNEW NOTHING ABOUT ROCK climbing until my daughter met her future husband. The guy is crazy about scaling rock walls, and his passion sparked enthusiasm in her. This became their favorite activity during their dating days. One Sunday afternoon, they invited me to join them for a climb. They chose a climb that was like child’s play for them but nigh impossible for me, a woman with neither previous experience nor the desire to claw my way up a wall while roped to a partner with whom I was entrusting my life. This couple exudes confidence about climbing because they understand the ins and outs. They’ve invested in safety gear and, as partners, they trust each other’s skill implicitly. Sometimes life’s journey leads me to walls of a different…

BEFORE THE COFFEE MAKER FINISHED its routine of pressing water through coffee grounds, the day had already started to fall apart. My plans disintegrated before they’d been fully formed. Appliances started a mutiny. Decisions demanded attention but nothing made enough sense to give even a breath of confidence. Casual conversations quickly turned to confrontations. I knew only one thing for sure. I needed to run. Not the sweat and earbuds with cute workout gear kind of running. What I needed most was to run to my Bible, quiet my heart, and temporarily ignore the problems as I turned to the problem-solver—Jesus. This pattern had served me well before. Trouble swells? Stop focusing on the trouble and lean on the truth of Scripture and the power of Jesus Christ. Is this…

MY GRANDSON REED IS A Lego master. He absolutely loves those building blocks and takes them wherever he goes. Reed spends countless hours putting them together to create all types of things, from cars to spaceships and homes and hospitals. He can even make Transformer robots. I marvel at how those small pieces come together to make one solid object. While Legos are the base of Reed’s creations, the Bible tells me that Jesus is the cornerstone of my life’s foundation. He came to give me hope and a future with Him in eternity. Jesus’s words and teachings have come together to form the base on which I’ve built my faith and trust in Him. As a believer, I am part of the universal church; I’m one of millions who…

A FEW MONTHS AGO, SOME local people asked me to consider running for public office. I’m a teacher and a writer and have never had any political ambitions whatsoever. But after a lot of prayer, I said I’d give it a try. One of the coolest things that has come out of the race so far is the people I’ve met. A few people (who are well-known in Arkansas) took an interest in my campaign, and that has led to a great network of helpers. Without such people supporting me, I would have never gotten the access I have now. And that access has led me to relationships and resources I could not have previously imagined. This is not unlike our relationship with Jesus. As Paul writes in Ephesians, our…

WHILE HIKING A ROCKY TRAIL in one of Oregon’s wilderness areas, my husband, David, and I marveled at the natural beauty surrounding us. Tall trees canopied a dense undergrowth of ferns and delicate wildflowers. The lightly used trail soon became difficult to discern, and we questioned whether we were even on the path. Divides in the lush foliage created decoy openings into the forest, and we retraced our steps. But then we spotted a cairn, a stack of rocks constructed by fellow hikers. These markers are left beside the trail to provide direction for others by helping them spot the route more easily. Like the encouraging voice of a friend, those stones guided us back in the direction we needed to follow. We continued our journey without problems. Jesus sometimes…

FRED ROGERS, THE BELOVED CREATOR of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, is one of my heroes. I love his soothing voice, his compassion for children, and his godly wisdom. So when the movie A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood came out, my husband, Kevin, bought two tickets for the first showing on opening day. My favorite scene takes place in a Chinese restaurant. The main character, Lloyd Vogel, tells Mr. Rogers—played by Tom Hanks—that he knows why Fred loves people like him: “Because we’re so broken.” In a voice rich with kindness, Mr. Rogers replies, “I don’t think you’re broken.” I wanted to stand up and cheer. Right there in the second row. As we left the theater, I started to make an inner commitment to emulate Mr. Roger’s Christlike behavior. But…

LIVING IN THE WILD WILDERNESS of Arkansas provides endless opportunities for observing nature. It’s amazing to me—and even terrifying sometimes in a way—to witness its power, its strength, its impulse toward life. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the immediate vicinity of my house, where my husband, Stone, battles trees, brush, and briars with a chainsaw—just like Pa Ingalls carved out a homestead. Stone is determined we will have a semblance of order in our small section of the big woods. Nature has other ideas. Last year he cut down a tree that threatened our roof. The roots were too deep to pull out without making a big mess of things with the tractor, so he just cut it off at ground level. It looked done for. However, in…

AT THE AGE OF FIFTY-FIVE, I thought I was over feeling left out, but an old wound recently resurfaced that made we wonder if I really was. A group of women I knew in college scheduled a conference call, and it reminded me of a painful experience from years ago. I never truly felt like I was part of this circle of friends, but after college, I had become close friends with a few girls in this group. Back then, a weekend getaway was planned, and one of the girls invited me. I was excited! On the drive, we stopped to grab a bite to eat and I overheard arguing in the restroom. One of the girls complained that I wasn’t a part of the group and shouldn’t have been…

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN LIED to? I don’t have to know your story to know the answer to that question—we’ve all been deceived at some point in our lives. Whether the lie is big or small, we learn something when someone is dishonest with us. We learn not to trust that person’s word. I recently had an experience with a person who promised to help me in a certain way. When receiving help took longer than expected, I tried to be patient, believing the person was just busy or that something else had come up and he would get to me eventually. He kept putting me off but never withdrew his offer to help. He just kept promising to help soon. Except he never did. Ever. God’s Word is different.…

I ENJOY PARTICIPATING IN MY town’s historic home tours. Albany, Oregon, is known for its beautifully maintained historic structures, and twice a year, generous homeowners allow docents like me to share their homes with the public. It’s a time of reflection, joy, and learning, as we witness the way past generations lived and recognize the craftsmanship of years gone by. During this season’s tour, I was impressed with one couple. They had come together later in life, with one spouse divorced and the other widowed. As they welcomed us into their home, the wife shared how, by the time they’d wed, they each had their own collections of mementos. Neither wanted to part with the beloved items that had come to mean so much to them over their lifetimes. So,…

I’VE ALWAYS BEEN A WORD lover, but there are some words I just don’t care for, like almost. Kids get frustrated on long trips when they hear, “We’re almost there.” As adults, many of us have heard the word when we applied for an award or a job: “You almost got it.” When my youngest granddaughter was born last year, I had almost finished knitting her lacy blanket. Maybe the real reason I hate the word is because while growing up, I felt “almost but not quite” in several areas: intelligence, looks, talents, social skills. Some days I still feel that way. I’m thankful there is nothing almost or halfway about Jesus and His love for me. By dying on the cross, He fully paid my sin debt. Since I…

ABOUT SIX MONTHS AGO, MY husband and I got an idea to bless men in their first weeks after being released from prison. I read a study that said if something doesn’t go right for returning citizens soon after their return to public life—the recidivism rate skyrockets. So Andrew and I filled backpacks with toiletry items, socks, a New Testament, and a handwritten note of encouragement. Our plan was to invite men to our church and give out the backpacks, but that proved difficult to administrate because the returning citizens are released on staggered schedules. Prayer revealed that Jesus’s plan was for us to keep a supply of backpacks in our car trunks for whenever and wherever He showed us a need. It’s so like Him to want us to…

WHEN MY BELOVED GRANDMA DIED, I helped Mom clean out my grandma’s house. It took over a week to get rid of seventy-six years of junk (excuse me, treasures). That first day, Mom told me to set aside anything I wanted. I said, “All I care about are some of her paintings.” Grandma was a self-taught artist. Her breathtaking oil paintings of mountain scenes and still-life flowers helped me feel close to her—as if she wasn’t really gone. But as the week progressed, my heart filled with greed. Every time I walked into a room, another item would catch my eye. By the time I left for my home, my car was filled with stuff. Most of which I later gave away. On the Monday after Palm Sunday, Jesus demonstrated…

AS A VOCALIST, I HAVE many favorite hymns: “Be Thou My Vision,” “Crown Him with Many Crowns,” and “The Love of God.” All hold deep meaning for me. They lift my spirits when I sing them. Recently I was surprised to learn the definition of the word hymn. It’s not simply a song we sing about God or Jesus but is one we sing to Him. It means “to laud, to celebrate God in song.” Hymn is the Greek word humneo, used in Matthew 26:30 when Jesus and His followers ate the Passover meal together a few hours before Jesus’s arrest. The final act of worship they participated in was to honor God in song. Imagine what was in Jesus’s heart at this moment. Jesus knew what was coming: betrayal…

I LOVE THAT JESUS FIRST appeared to a woman after His resurrection—a woman with a past. According to Mark 16:9, Jesus had cast out seven demons from Mary Magdalene. We aren’t told how the evil spirits gained access to Mary. We can only imagine the torment she had experienced before Jesus set her free. After that miracle, she became a loyal follower of the Master. Early on Sunday morning, when Mary visited Jesus’s tomb, she was surprised to find it open and Jesus’s body gone. She believed someone had stolen Jesus’s body. While she wept about this, He showed up. Mary had thought all was lost and that she’d never see her hero again. Now here He stood, speaking her name. And—wonder of wonders—He gave her a commission: “Go to…

EVER SINCE THE SPRING SUNSHINE has hit our state, the lawn in the backyard has been thriving. Its verdant growth laid me out flat after the first spring mowing. It was so tall, I had to go over it twice. When I finished, I came inside and collapsed on the couch. My fourteen-year-old, Addison, told me, “Mom, your face is really red.” And I said, “Too. Much. Grass.” It was all I could manage to say. But the front yard is a different story. There are patches of green woven with circles of dead grass. When we bought the house, the front yard had already been laid by the builders. The sod was put directly over dense clay. In the backyard, we topped the clay with three inches of nutrient…

IN THE KITCHEN, MY UTENSIL drawer was stuck shut again. I jiggled and yanked the handle, finally releasing whatever had blocked it. Staring at the jumbled contents, I sighed. All I needed was the ice cream scoop. Shuffling through various wooden spoons, silicone spatulas, and stainless-steel knives—each created for only one purpose—my fingertips found the familiar rubberized handle. Now to work it free from the tangled mass. That drawer, with all its useful and helpful items, sometimes reminds me of the way life can get cluttered with busywork. Like the garlic press I recently purchased, I always find ways to cram one more volunteer opportunity or social engagement into my week. Sometimes I lose track of the point. Why am I doing it and who am I doing it for?…

LAUNDRY IS ONE HOUSEHOLD CHORE I enjoy. The gentle swishing of soapy water and clothes as they slosh together in the washer. The thumping of my four hedgehog dryer buddies as they bump against the walls of the dryer. The snappy cleanness of the clothes after I hang them up. It all makes me smile. Last week a thought struck me: Laundry won’t be rushed. I can set my washer for a small load, which does take less time, but it still needs to cycle through all the stages to clean our clothes. I can set my dryer temperature on “high” to speed up the drying, but then I’ll need to give my shrunken jeans to our twelve-year-year-old granddaughter. If I try to cut corners, I won’t be happy with…

I JUST FINISHED MAILING A stack of Mother’s Day cards, as I do each year at this time. I send greetings to my daughters and daughters-in-law and to a few friends. But the mothers I make sure never to forget are those who, like me, are bereaved mothers—mothers who have lost a child. That first Mother’s Day after Blake died, I didn’t know how to feel. Was I still a mother when my little boy was in heaven? I had two other sons, so I was a mother to them, but I didn’t feel worthy. There was certainly nothing to celebrate and I didn’t want gifts or cards. Jesus felt very far away at that time—my choice, not His. As time wore on, I was able to accept Jesus’s comfort…

THE OMINOUS CLOUDS BURST AND rain poured down as I left to run errands. Normally, I would have dreaded getting in and out of the car, but not today! I was the proud owner of a Better Brella, the nifty reverse-open umbrella that lets you open and close it without getting wet. I couldn’t wait to try my new toy. Driving down a busy street, heading for the mall, I stopped to allow a man pushing a shopping cart to cross the road. In the cart, a soaking wet dog crouched beside a bag that appeared to hold all the man’s worldly possessions. The man dashed across the street and found shelter under the awning at Walgreens. I didn’t need anything from the drugstore, but a nudge from Jesus sent…

FOR DECADES I BATTLED INSOMNIA, lying awake at night gripped by a nameless anxiety. As life became simpler and my faith deepened, worries no longer filled my nighttime hours. Yet my body wouldn’t shut off. I tossed and turned, grabbing a few moments here and a couple of hours there. I felt tired and scatterbrained. I resorted to using herbal and over-the-counter sleeping aids nightly. It seemed there was no choice. Weeks ago, something unusual happened. I felt sleepy at bedtime. I decided to forego the medication. Within minutes of getting into bed, I slumbered. This rarely occurred. The next morning, I awoke refreshed and rested. The same thing occurred the following evenings. Now close to a month has passed, and this has continued to happen. I’m already reaping the…

WE CAN’T CALL THE KITTEN I adopted last summer “Wee Wally” anymore. At eleven months, Wally weighs almost twenty pounds. I often ask him how he got so big. But I know the answer. It’s all my fault. Whenever I let Wally venture outside, I entice him back in by rattling a bag of kitty treats. As soon as he hears that happy sound, he races to the door and zips in. I also give him treats for good behavior: letting me pet him without biting my hand, looking cute and innocent—you name it. Wally is fat because his mama spoils him. I’m thankful Jesus doesn’t act like me. He doesn’t give me whatever I want when I want it, for no particular reason. I’ve often asked for things that…

EVERYTHING TILTED LIKE A CAREENING sailboat and began whirling around. Feeling dizzy, I hugged the floor, crawling like a drunken sailor wary of being knocked overboard by the boom. Seasick, I couldn’t eat or drink anything except a sip of ginger ale or a saltine cracker. I’d like to say that was my first experience onboard a sailboat. But it wasn’t. I was dealing with a bout of vertigo that incapacitated me for days. Similarly, other unexpected upsetting events have caught me off guard and thrown me off balance: the death of a loved one, a family tragedy, the loss of a valued relationship, a financial setback. Sudden bad news can knock us off balance. My bout with vertigo caused me to reflect on challenging events that have brought sudden…

ONE OF THE WOMEN IN my Bible study showed up to our small group with red-rimmed, watery eyes. She quietly told me that she’d been sobbing in her car because of her impending divorce. We scheduled a hike so we could talk more, and then she took a few minutes to pull herself together before joining the group. A few days later, as we walked, she described how scary it was for her to think about a future alone. She’d recently moved into her own apartment. Initially she was excited about living alone for the first time in her life, but moving caused a tumultuous emotional reaction. I tried to offer her words of encouragement to assure her that Jesus is always with her and that she’s never alone. But…

IN ONE SECTION OF OUR yard, weeds had formed an overgrown tangle that begged our attention. We decided to replace the mess with pavers. I knelt and shoved my spade into the soil to loosen it, then yanked with all my strength. As I removed a mass of dirt and roots, a worm popped its head into the daylight. Inch after inch, more of the squirming creatures appeared. Worms terrify me. Acknowledging their benefits to the soil doesn’t change that fact. I froze. No shrieks, just me, a woman kneeling statue-like in my garden. As soon as I could breathe, I stood and raced out of reach. My husband investigated and noted the offender was at least nine inches long. The idea of something moving around underfoot while I’m blind…

YEARS AGO, MY HUSBAND AND I planted a small flowering tree in the landscape bed along the back of our house. This spring, the branches remained brown and empty of buds. Dead. Perhaps the repeating patterns of winter’s thaws and harsh freezes took a toll. Perhaps a deer nibbled away too much bark. We planned to cut down the thin, lifeless trunk, but we never got around to it. Later in the summer, I noticed flowers poking out from the bushes surrounding that barren trunk. Somehow, a branch sprouted sideways from the tree, unnoticed by me until its shoots reached toward the sun and flowered. Have you ever felt as if a part of you has withered away? I sometimes feel as if my service to Jesus’s kingdom has shriveled…

I ENJOY READING MEMES ON social media, whether they’re laugh-out-loud funny or a simple statement packed with truth that makes me think. Even more, I love finding the perfect one to send to a family member or friend, something that I know will either make that person laugh or say, “Exactly!” I recently came across a meme that seemed custom-made for me that said, “Give me a minute while I overthink this.” My tendency to analyze everything can be a good thing when I’m learning something new or thinking through complicated decisions. But it’s a bad habit when it causes me to waver in my faith walk. Jesus simply spoke two words to Levi (who’s also called Matthew), and the tax collector left his job and followed Him. Levi didn’t…

MY CHURCH DOES A CORPORATE fast every year, when hundreds of members engage together in a dedicated time of prayer and fasting. My husband, Hal, and I decided to step out on faith and commit to a monthlong Daniel Fast, which involves consuming only fruits, vegetables, grains, and water. That’s no small order for two self-proclaimed carnivores who love fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, and apple pie. A week before we began the fast, I researched vegan recipes and stocked up on brown rice, bulgur, vegetables, and every type of bean imaginable. I got tips from my vegan friends on how to transition to meatless meals. I became fixated on food. What I wasn’t focused on was praying and reading God’s Word. While I did spend time with the Lord,…

I LOVE WATCHING TV. MANY of my favorite shows had servants, especially those shows from back in the day. Among them were the ever-present Lurch from The Addams Family, sassy Florence from The Jeffersons, and the quick-witted Alice from The Brady Bunch. All of these fictional servants had different personalities and ways to approach the situations that were presented to them by the hodgepodge group of people they served—some kooky, some sweet, some self-absorbed. I have similar types of folks—and more—among my family, friends, church members, and colleagues. They are my people, the ones whom the Lord has put within my reach to serve. Peter says to be shepherds of God’s flock, and not only willing shepherds but those who are eager to serve and be examples to the flock.…

OUR BACKYARD BACKS UPTO AN open field full of tumbleweeds. I didn’t know a whole lot about tumbleweeds before moving to Idaho. Now, I know that whenever the wind kicks up, the dry brush breaks free from its stems and bounces over my fence. After one spring windstorm, there were twelve tumbleweeds stacked up in my yard. It was a tumbleweed party. What I didn’t realize is that when the tumbleweeds were rolling through my yard, they were dropping their spores everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I can’t keep track of the thousands of tiny sprouts growing up in the edges of the grass. They are prolific. I wish all my plants were like that. Their growth reminds me of Jesus’s parable about the sower and His seeds. Jesus said,…

HOW FRUSTRATING! JESUS CALLED PAUL to share the gospel, and he was raring to go—but then Jesus held him back. What’s up with that? I was invited recently to speak at a local writer’s group. I was excited to support others in the body of Christ and felt called. But after I accepted, a group leader soon emailed me: “Sorry, I didn’t realize someone else on the committee had already scheduled a different person.” And with that, the door closed. I felt deflated. This is just a small example, but there have been other times when I was ready to charge ahead, but the Spirit of Jesus clearly didn’t allow me to move forward. Disappointment made my heart ache, and my prayers held painful questions. Perhaps you’ve experienced painful closed…

IF ONLY I HAD A nickel for every time I’ve asked someone, young or old, this question: “What new thing has Jesus been impressing on your heart?” (Yet I am a rich woman because, as I’ve listened to the answers, the bank account of my faith has swelled.) I’ve learned to pause and listen if the person I’m talking to doesn’t have an immediate answer. Almost always, she eventually thinks of something. She reports that she’s learning the real meaning of endurance. Or that Jesus is showing her new ways to cope with a hard-to-love coworker or an out-of-sorts friend. Or she’ll share a Bible verse that won’t leave her alone. Or she’ll smile and say she’s finally getting the hang of this contentment business. If the answer is, “Nothing,”…

I HAVE A SINGER-SONGWRITER FRIEND named Jenna. When we met, I was in junior high and she was in elementary school. I’d recently outgrown playing with dolls, but I wanted Jenna to have the same fun I’d had. I gave her my doll clothes, along with instructions to pass them on when she was done with them. It’s fun to pass along good things. Jenna and I are still passing on good things to each other. Just today, she passed along encouragement, telling me how her friend loved one of my books. She passed along transparency, sharing about how Jesus is working in her. I passed along some hope, telling her about the miracles Jesus has done in our family this year, and some joy, telling her I couldn’t wait…

I HOPE NO ONE NOTICES, I thought, dropping a penny into the offering plate in church. Jesus’s sweet voice in my heart had prompted me to give the penny, even though I could afford much more. As the pastor’s wife, I worried that someone would think I was stingy. Nevertheless, I pinched my eyes shut and let go of the wee coin. In that instant, a delightful joy burst upon me. Despite my fear of others’ opinions, I had obeyed. I felt Jesus’s pleasure. Two days after Jesus’s triumphant ride into Jerusalem, He observed people in the temple as they put money in the treasury boxes. Some wealthy individuals gave huge amounts. Perhaps they saw Jesus sitting nearby and wanted to impress Him. Instead of praising their large gifts, Jesus…

EVERY FALL AND WINTER, I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). It occurs when reduced exposure to sunlight produces a chemical imbalance in the brain. I’m thankful for the antidepressant that keeps my mood balanced and for the privilege of prayer. Talking to God and praising Jesus helps the most. The Gospel of Luke tells us that during Jesus’s final three hours, as He hung dying on the cross, darkness covered the entire earth “for the sun stopped shining” (23:45, NIV). All of us who experience the darkness of depression—even for a short season—understand the hopelessness that Jesus must have felt in those hours. Not only did our Savior take on the sins of every person who ever lived during that time of darkness, I am convinced He also felt…

I LOVE STORIES, SO I was thrilled to attend The Moth Mainstage event in Breckenridge, Colorado. The Moth is a nonprofit organization dedicated to the craft of storytelling. The founder wanted to recreate the feeling of summer evenings in his native Georgia, when moths were attracted to the light on the porch where he and his friends would gather to tell spellbinding tales. The event features folks who tell their story to crowds across the country. I was captivated as the speakers bravely told their stories. One young man had almost died while guiding tourists on a glacier trek in Alaska. One woman had survived the Chinese Communist Revolution. And another woman humorously talked about unexpectedly becoming a grandmother. You could hear a pin drop while they spoke. Neuroscience has…

MY FAMILY WENT THROUGH A situation this year in which someone we trusted completely let us down. It was one of those things you think can’t possibly ever happen in a million years. And then it does. We were blindsided. We were all hurt, but those of us closest to the situation were devastated. When something like this happens, it’s natural to think, Well, if that happened, anything can happen. I guess I can’t trust anyone. It’s probably not a healthy reaction, but it’s human. When I am shocked like this and the world seems upside down—like nothing I thought—I try to remind myself of the things I do know. It’s kind of like grasping for something to hold onto in the dark. Calling those things to mind brings me…

AT THE GROCERY STORE, I searched for a few healthy snack options. On a sale rack, I found crunchy peapod snacks. They sounded healthier than potato chips, with a similar crunch-salt value, so I grabbed them. After getting home I tasted them. Yuck. When I checked the ingredients, I saw they were super processed and packed with weird flavorings. Their resemblance to true peapods was only in the manufacturer’s imagination. I shook my head. Why hadn’t I just grabbed the real thing? Sweet, fresh peapods would have been a much more delicious snack. As research for one of my novels, I’ve recently been studying cults. In cults, people substitute the real thing for a poor imitation. When a writer, speaker, or leader teaches about following Jesus, how can I know…

WHEN OUR GRANDCHILDREN LIVED WITH me and my husband, we noticed they picked up habits and mannerisms from us. Our three-year-old grandson loved helping Grandpa vacuum and longed to copy anything he did. My grandson also helped me clean up after dinner. Our garbage can is on a slide-out shelf in a low cabinet. One night he took a crumpled napkin and toddled over to the cabinet under the sink. After opening the door, he awkwardly hooked his foot over the slide-out shelf to pull the garbage can out and dispose of his napkin. I nudged my husband and giggled. “Why didn’t he use his hand to pull out the shelf?” My husband smiled. “Because that’s how you do it. You always hook your toes over the shelf to pull…

SOMETIMES I CAN STUMBLE ACROSS some real gems while surfing the internet. I came across one recently linked to the long-running animated show The Simpsons. In one episode, daughter Lisa asked her dad, Homer, if he knew that the Chinese used the same word for “crisis” as they do for “opportunity.” Homer responded, “Yes, crisitunity.” Homer’s mash-up caught my attention. Instead of crisitunity, I came up with my own word: Christunity—Christ + opportunity. Indeed, there is opportunity in Jesus. Throughout the Bible, especially in the New Testament, I see people whose lives were changed because they chose to believe in the power of Jesus and availed themselves of an opportunity. There’s the woman with the issue of blood (Luke 8:43–48) who was healed. On the cross beside Jesus, the thief…

I LOVE THE SYMBOLISM OF Ash Wednesday: receiving a cross of ashes on the forehead, a token of Jesus’s willingness to stoop in the ashes with me; acknowledging and asking forgiveness of my sins; fasting from a particular food or activity to show appreciation for all He’s sacrificed. These reminders help me to not take Jesus’s love for granted. I’m not a champion faster. (Okay, I stink at it.) When I go without food, I get cranky. I recently thought, Snapping at my husband and complaining aren’t helping me grow closer to Jesus. So I came up with the perfect solution: Fast from speaking all negative words. I was pretty proud of this clever idea. Until I started. Two hours into my no-complaining fast, I caught myself yelling at my…

ONE OF MY FRIENDS TOLD me today that she has cancer. She was already on my prayer list because her husband had been recently diagnosed with dementia. When I heard my friend’s news, my heart sank and I prayed, Lord, it’s too much. I offered her what comfort I could: love and compassion and support of her adamant trust that Jesus was walking this road with her. But I longed to be able to do more than comfort. As I floundered in my helplessness to solve my friend’s problems, this psalm reminded me that Jesus is never helpless. These verses reflect the Savior who acts. He hears, He comforts, but He doesn’t stop with a hug and a whispered word of reassurance. He does justice on behalf of those who…

IN ONE OF MY KITCHEN drawers, I keep an ingredient-substitute chart, and this list has proven to be a lifesaver at times. But I hear real-life horror stories of someone accidentally or unwittingly making a substitution that ruins a dish. Like measuring out salt instead of sugar. Or using whole cloves instead of ground cloves in a cake. Sometimes substitutions work out fine; other times, not so much. When it comes to a recipe for a satisfying, meaningful life, I’m finding that it’s best to ignore suggestions for substitutions. For example, we’re surrounded by people who clamor for the opportunity to lead and guide us. But Jesus is the Good Shepherd who laid down His life for us. Only by following Him can I find protection, purpose, and rest for…

MY HUSBAND’S PHONE RANG WITH the news we dreaded. The biopsy had come back, and he had cancer. In our shock, we felt the grace of Jesus surround us in what I called a “grace bubble.” As we shared the news, our friends had different reactions. Some reassured us that they knew someone who had this same cancer who was successfully treated. Others reminded us of God’s faithfulness and promised to pray for us. Many offered to help if there was anything we needed—although we were too dazed to know what we needed. Others offered to listen as we processed all that was happening. I was grateful for each friend who expressed love in any possible way. As the bubble began to wear off and harsh realities intruded, every kind…

OUR DOG, FLASH, HAS A new best friend. Our neighbors across the street have a half-corgi, half-Chihuahua mix named Zito. Zito sits by his front window and waits for Flash to come outside. When I mention Zito’s name, Flash cannot contain his excitement. He starts barking, his entire body wriggling with joy. He rushes to the front door, whining until I open it. I make sure that no cars are coming, because as soon as I open the door, he bounds across the lawn and meets Zito mid-street. His happiness is palpable. This is what he has been waiting for—time with his friend. His life is complete. Chasing each other and rolling in the grass together, you would think that they had been separated for months. This doggie meet-up happens…

GIVING THANKS IS SOMETHING I incorporate into every prayer in two specific ways. First, I thank Jesus for what He’s done for me in the past, and then I thank Him for what I trust He’ll do in the future. Recalling prayers that He’s already answered bolsters my faith to believe He will do it again. This practice gave me courage to trust Jesus when my husband and I began the process of buying and moving aboard a sailboat. I thanked Jesus for providing suitable housing for our family every time He’d moved us to a new location in the past. I thanked Him that His timing for our moves had always proven perfect and that He’d gone before us to prepare a place for us in the hearts of…

YEARS AGO, I HAD A simple vision of homeownership. I pictured a pretty house with an office space where I could write wonderful, inspiring words. This was a big dream for a single woman living in a major city where house prices started at a half a million dollars. Still, Jesus showed me in Deuteronomy 6:11 that I would live in a house “filled with all kinds of good things [I] did not provide” (NIV). I hung onto it. Later, when I finally purchased my fixer-upper townhome, I was excited. The Word He had spoken was coming to pass! I was glad and thankful, but something bothered me a bit. It was not exactly “filled with all kinds of good things” the way the Word had stated. The house was…

AS A BOOK LOVER AND a person who is catching up on movies everyone else has already seen—including the video production of Hamilton (yes, I’m that far behind)—I’m always on the alert for places where Jesus and His truths show up. I watch for threads of forgiveness, sin’s consequences, the power of a pardon, self-sacrifice, and redemptive moments. Those reflections of biblical truths thrill me, whether they’re intended or not by the author, screenwriter, or playwright. Several “Jesus messages” stood out clearly the first time I streamed Hamilton on TV. Based in part on both historical events and fictionalized imaginings, the story of Alexander Hamilton, the birth of our nation, the cost of freedom, and the price of foolishness, all revealed themselves on the stage. I leaned toward the screen…

I HAVE TAKEN GREAT JOY decorating our new home. I have been saying things like “pops of color” and “impact” and “a mix of modern and farmhouse.” I bought some bright yellow pillows that have the phrase Hello, Sunshine embroidered on them. I feel a zing of happiness every time I see them. The only problem with all the decorating is that I want to do more of it. It has unleashed the beast within, the beast that says I should have everything I want—right now. I’ve worked hard to tame this beast my whole life. It’s my selfish self, the part of me that only thinks about me, lives for my own pleasures, and could care less about how my actions affect anyone else. I’m not going to lie;…

AHA, THERE IT WAS! THAT pesky sock I’d been searching for was right behind the dryer. I grabbed a broom and, using the handle, scooted the sock from behind the dryer to the tight space between the dryer and the wall. I couldn’t quite get it, so I crammed my knee in that tiny space to get better contact. I was able to scoot the sock closer, but when I tried to move my knee, it was wedged tight. I tried to push the dryer away, but it wouldn’t budge, positioned as it was next to the heavy washer. This could have been an episode of I Love Lucy, only Lucy wouldn’t have been as dumb. I didn’t have my cell phone nearby, and my husband, Jeff, wouldn’t be home…

IT WAS APRIL, BUT A severe snowstorm was headed to Colorado. I’m a Colorado native, so such weather shouldn’t be a surprise, but every spring when a snowstorm hits, I want to flee the harsh, disappointing cold. Harsh because the day before I was wearing flip-flops, and disappointing because the freezing temperatures threatened to destroy the precious spring flowers, including my daffodils. I couldn’t escape the storm, but there was something I could do. I grabbed scissors and went outside. I cut a bounty of daffodils—beauty to combat the bleak days ahead. Jesus knows that I’ll experience challenges that threaten to devastate the splendor around me, yet He provides treasures in the midst of unhappy times. I love the story of the shepherds who hurried to Bethlehem after the angel…

DURING THE LAST MONTH, EVERY time I looked out my window, I wanted to cry. Or at least yell at whoever had pruned our maple tree. Only stubs of a dozen huge branches and the trunk remained. Because my husband, Kevin, is a pastor, we live in the parsonage, so I didn’t have a say in the pruning of “my” tree. But how I loved that tree—and the two squirrels that lived inside. Every morning while I prayed, pacing around my bedroom, I’d watch the squirrels skitter across the branches, chasing each other and washing their faces with their tiny paws. Even on days when my mood matched the murky sky, those critters made me smile. Now where would they live? I knew the church leaders who decided to prune…

I LIVE IN A FIVE-SEASON climate: fall, winter, spring, summer, and fire. One fire season, when smoke from surrounding wildfires blanketed our little town, the sheriff issued an evacuation warning. In eerie stillness, parked vehicles waited—packed, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. Blessedly, it never came to that. Once the threat of danger subsided, we breathed sighs of relief, contemplating how we would prepare better or differently next time. “Grateful to have escaped total loss and devastation from wildfire, we returned to normal life.” Gradually, we began to feel safe again. Eventually, emergency checklists were stored away. “Grab and Go” boxes were unpacked or shuffled off into basements, set aside until another fire season. Preparing for an evacuation reveals our fears and priorities. During one fire season, I confess…

MY HUSBAND, KEVIN, IS A pastor and likes to illustrate his sermons in unique ways. One year on Palm Sunday, he arranged several styles of coats in the center aisle of the church building. At the start of his message, Kev stepped into the aisle, held up a navy-blue suit coat, and said, “This first coat represents my career. It’s one of my best, so I wear it when I preach. Next, I have a casual jacket that I might wear to a picnic with friends—my social life.” He continued to pick up various coats, noting each one’s purpose to use them as examples of all the aspects of our lives: work, family, finances, leisure time. Kevin explained that the common person in Jesus’s day owned only one coat, and…

DURING OUR SUNDAY AFTERNOON CALL with the grandkids, I complained to seven-year-old Jenessa how a strong wind had ruined my hairdo earlier that day. The twenty minutes I’d spent styling it before church was gone forever. In her most serious tone, Jenessa said, “Don’t worry, Grandma. People that always look and behave perfect are so annoying.” Although I laughed in agreement, I thought of one individual whose perfect behavior never annoyed me. In fact, I admired Him and even tried to live up to His standards. Jesus never sinned. He never spoke a cruel word. He never acted out of spite or selfishness. Whatever He did was for the eternal good of others. He spoke nothing but the truth in love. He always trusted and followed His Father with a…

WHEN MY DAUGHTER, ESTHER, CALLED last week to tell me some unfortunate news, my heart sank. The owner of Esther’s dream house had decided not to rent it. Now Esther and her three teens would need to remain in their cramped mobile home. I was disappointed. Jesus hadn’t met my family’s needs. After Esther’s call, I plopped onto the couch and did everything but pray. Brain games. Facebook. Instagram. Finally, after abandoning my pout, I asked Jesus to show me a Scripture that would give me perspective. He reminded me of Hebrews 10:35, a sweet encouragement to not throw away my confidence in His good plan for my family. I recalled the many times He’d provided solutions far beyond our highest dreams. I also recalled the account of that Saturday…

A MUCH-LOVED MINISTER AT MY church recently made her transition from earth to her final reward in heaven. Reverend Gunn was one of the most faith-filled people I’ve ever known. She faced many difficult times in her life—sickness, pain, loss—but through it all, she always declared the goodness of God. With a dazzling smile and booming voice, she often offered encouraging, wise words to me and many others. Her life spoke volumes. She was a real cheerleader for Jesus. Reverend Gunn is now one of my “cloud people,” the folks whom the writer of Hebrews talked about, folks who have shown us what faith is all about. The writer points to how Noah, Abraham, Joseph, Moses, and Rahab, among others, exhibited faith during their lifetimes. “All these people were still…

AS JESUS SHARED HIS LAST Passover meal with His disciples, He told them distressing news: He would soon be going away. Someone in the group would betray Him. Stalwart Peter would disown Him three times that very night. All of them would fall away and leave Him alone. Then He urged them, “Do not let your hearts be troubled” (John 14:1, NIV). Seems like a strange thing to say—or rather a strange time to say it. Their minds must have been reeling, trying to make sense of the awful things He had just predicted. After His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, Jesus had confided that His soul was deeply troubled (John 12:27). How could it be otherwise? Jesus knew full well the horrors He would soon face: the humiliation, the suffering,…

MY MOM, GLORIA, WAS A great woman who valued peace in her home and in her relationships. She was known for putting up her hand if a discussion got too heated and saying, “Peace!” Then she’d simply walk away, without holding a grudge. As a result of her commitment to keeping the peace, I grew up in a home where I can recall very few arguments. She didn’t need to win every argument or prove she was right. As a result, there was an atmosphere of peace and holiness wherever she went. I have a similar desire for peace (though I admit I do like when I’m right). In the verse above, the author of Hebrews states the importance of pursuing peace, and it’s not just a suggestion. So my…

MY HUSBAND’S LATEST FISHING TRIP took him to a small lake with few private properties and great bass fishing. It also boasts a stunning log-and-stone house that captures his attention almost as much as the fish tugging on his line. I’ve heard him talk about that lake home many times but hadn’t seen any pictures until today. A massive structure, the home hugs the shoreline and boasts windows and decks that must afford the occupants indescribable views. “The stonework alone is magnificent, isn’t it?” my husband said. I took a closer look. Each stone fitted so perfectly, matched and artistic and . . . one stone at the far corner was unlike the others. Its color was slightly different, and it was larger in scale. Had it, perhaps, been rejected…

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