Indholdsfortegnelse for September/October 2023 i Mornings with Jesus

One of my best girlfriends has a second home in Florida, and for the last few years, I’ve had the privilege of spending a long weekend with her and a handful of other ladies who make up my village. These days away are not just a good time to disconnect from life at home but to reconnect with people who matter to me. My village came together in the same way many do—through our kids. This circle of friends was much larger in the early days, but for many reasons, not the least of which was Covid, this group is now about five strong. Together we’ve celebrated each other and our kids and have welcomed grandchildren. We’ve mourned parents and pets. These girlfriends are truly a gift from God. As…

HER NAME WAS ALICIA, AND I met her when I was six. She must not have known that a proper houseguest waits for an invitation and then knocks politely on the front door at a respectable hour, because she showed up in the middle of the night and entered by breaking windows and ripping off our roof. Even now, when someone mentions Hurricane Alicia, I still hear the wind screaming, feel the wet carpet squishing through my toes, and smell the moldy aftermath from her intrusion in the walls. In the South, we pay attention when meteorologists mention named storms building off the coast, but I recently realized that I not only name my weather-related storms, but I also name the storms in my life. I’ve survived Hurricane Miscarriage, Tropical…

IN LATE AUGUST 2020, RESIDENTS along the Gulf Coast anxiously watched updates on a hurricane rapidly strengthening and heading toward land. Meteorologists indicated that Hurricane Laura would grow into a category 4 or 5 storm with deadly wind speeds and record-breaking storm surges. One afternoon, my friend Towanna’s three-year-old great-niece called her to ask if she was okay. Towanna told Lennon that she could help by praying for family members in Louisiana. Lennon bowed her head and asked Jesus to be with each person, calling them by name. She finished by saying, “Jesus, just turn this storm off. Amen!” Then she assured Towanna that things would be okay because “Jesus is holding you.” Whether we’re threatened by an impending hurricane or dealing with emotional turbulence caused by our circumstances, it’s…

WHILE WATCHING A MOVIE RECENTLY, I was struck by the powerful message of sacrifice. In an intense moment where the family’s plan to fight off an evil creature is starting to fail, the father decides to do something bold and different. He begins making a lot of noise to draw the creature toward him and away from the children. It works. The creature becomes distracted and heads for the father. The children’s sense of relief, however, is short-lived when they tearfully watch their dad give up his life to save theirs. Although I may not be called to give up my physical life, I am still called to a life of sacrifice. Sacrifice means giving up one thing to gain another. In Mark 12:42–44, Jesus called over His disciples to…

RATHER THAN MAKING NEW YEAR’s resolutions, I select a word to focus on. This past year, I selected the word “abide.” We’ve moved frequently and recently settled into a new home. Because “abide” means to reside, dwell, or remain, it seemed an appropriate choice. To learn to abide in Jesus, I sought methods to engage Scripture more, such as journaling about sections that jumped out to me, praying Jesus’s Word, and learning more about the context and culture of Biblical times. I even pondered significant works of art in light of the Biblical events or truths they portrayed to see if they offered spiritual parallels to my life. All these methods were valuable, but one insight I gained about abiding with Jesus was my need to learn to dwell in…

I’M IN DENIAL THAT I need stronger reading glasses. Instead, I surround myself with more lamps while I read, flooding the space with light to compensate. It’s gotten to the point where I pack a book light when I go to my prayer group, just in case the hostess’ living room isn’t bright enough for me to read my Bible and journal. And God bless the person who thought to build a flashlight into the iPhone! It’s helped me read restaurant menus more times than I can count. We should always be seeking the light of Christ. But when life gets difficult, we need to look for Him more frequently to compensate. He is the light of the world (John 8:12). There is no darkness He can’t overcome (John 1:5).…

WE BURIED THE HUSBAND OF a dear friend last week. Dawn and Brice would’ve celebrated thirty years of marriage next month. It was hard to say goodbye, but Brice had been very sick. As I asked Jesus to comfort Dawn the day before the funeral, an idea flashed into my mind. Make Dawn a care package to take to the funeral along with your sympathy card. Jesus even showed me what items to tuck inside: chocolate candy, a stress-relieving coloring book, and a box of tissues. I rushed to the store on my way to work, flying through the aisles. I hope Dawn likes butterflies. It was the only coloring book that didn’t feature talking sponges wearing pants or flying superheroes. These pastel markers will be calming. I tossed the…

WHEN I DRIVE MY SON to school in the morning, I brace myself for the inevitable. Drivers fly down the entrance ramp into my lane, ignoring the yield sign, and dangerously merge in front of me. Day after day, I endure the hardheadedness of stubborn drivers who refuse to pay attention to the merge sign on this busy highway. I could not understand how those drivers could be so defiant, and I often complained to my family. On my way to pick up my son from school one day, I approached that stretch of highway. It wasn’t as busy in the afternoon, and instead of fixating on how drivers disregarded that yield sign, I started thinking about my own disregard for Jesus’s “signs.” Sometimes, when I sense Jesus telling me…

TRAVELING AS A SPEAKER ALLOWS me to meet other accomplished speakers. I’m inspired by the passionate, insightful messages I hear. Yet, if I’m truthful, it’s easy to compare myself to them. My comparison struggle is most brutal in exhibit halls where authors and speakers sell their books. I recently looked from their professional banners and displays to my own little book table. Before the next conference, I decided to design a new booth. While the finished product turned out well, deep down I knew I’d done so with the wrong motives. By the time the convention started, I was exhausted from the extra setup. I shook my head, disappointed in myself—all because I wrongly felt like what I had to offer wasn’t good enough. The funny thing about the comparison…

MY SISTER JENNY AND I often talk on the phone. Even though we both live stateside, we greet each other in French. Jenny asks, “Comment ça va?” (How is it going?) I respond, “Comme ci comme ça.” (So-so.) This makes Jenny laugh. Jenny spoke French while living abroad for five years. I spoke French for one year in high school. Even though Jenny is more fluent, I like pulling out some good French words like fatigué (pronounced fa-tee-gay), which means tired, and désolé (pronounced deh-soh-lay), which means sad. I like the way they roll off the tongue. Whether speaking in English or French, Jenny is always upbeat when we talk. She uses her words to encourage me. Her heart, the wellspring of her words, is full of hope, love, and…

IN MY HOUSE, I’m the chief cook. It’s my responsibility to know the unique culinary tastes of each family member in order to adequately prepare cuisine that they will enjoy. For example, I know my son’s mashed potatoes will require a few dashes of salt if we are out of beef gravy, and I know that my husband will eat almost any breakfast food that includes cinnamon. Whatever meal I prepare for my family, I ensure it has the right amount of seasoning so they will enjoy the delicious flavor and consume it. The Apostle Paul compares the Gospel of Jesus to a meal that is made to order. This doesn’t mean that the truth should be altered so everyone likes it—quite the contrary. Rather, Paul is referring to the…

WHEN MY EIGHTY-EIGHT-YEAR-OLD MOTHER’S HEALTH started spiraling downward, my husband and I made the seven-hundred-mile trip from our home to hers three times in eight weeks. Driving twelve hours each way, stopping only for gas and fast food, was physically exhausting. Sitting vigil at her bedside for a week before she passed away added another layer of weariness. I mourned her deeply. Upon our return from each of those trips, my husband and I provided childcare for our toddler granddaughter, Lexi. We visited the zoo and the beach, carved pumpkins, fed ducks in our marina, did finger painting, and took lots of walks. It was so much fun! Jesus knew my weary body and soul needed refreshment, so He brought Lexi. Visiting the zoo and the beach forced me to…

ONE MORNING WHEN I WAS feeling particularly overwhelmed by financial obligations, I turned to Psalm 23, which has always given me great peace and encouragement. But this day, I was moved to do something I hadn’t done before. I read the familiar psalm in different versions of the Bible. I often turn to various Bible translations when I don’t quite understand a passage in hopes that one of them will give me clarity. I pulled out the big, heavy parallel Bible that a friend had given me years ago. It had four versions side by side. I focused on the first verse of Psalm 23: The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. (King James Version) The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing. (New International Version) Because the…

A TERRIBLE STORM HIT THE area last night. Boards were ripped from fences and branches sheared off trees. As I assessed the damage to our yard, I noticed our old camellia shrub. It had been in full bloom when the gale passed through. Now the ground below it was deep with sodden petals. Only a few flowers remained on the tree, their ragged edges revealing the violence they’d encountered. I stared at those three blooms for a long time. They were beautiful. They were survivors. Just like me. I’m mourning a loss right now, grappling with a hard lesson—one I’m not yet able to make sense of. Why are some of us plucked from life while others are left broken, struggling just to hang on? Though I don’t know the…

WHILE TAKING A WALK, I noticed my shadow on the sidewalk. Its outline was so well-defined. I knew the shape was simply light playing across my body, but it was as if I glimpsed my actual image following behind me. As I turned to head home, the gray silhouette led, silently announcing my imminent arrival. My thoughts turned to the way my reputation can often precede me, just as the impression I leave behind speaks of who I am. How often have I felt excitement at the opportunity to meet someone a friend has told me about? Likewise, I’ve spent time reflecting on a person long after our interactions have ended. And though I’ve yet to “meet” Jesus, I believe in Him and all He represents—past, present, and future. I’ve…

ON A RECENT SATURDAY EVENING, as my husband and I returned from dinner, fire trucks blocked our street. We couldn’t tell whose house was on fire, but we smelled smoke. Sadness covered me. One of our neighbors would be devastated. The next day as I rode my bike in the neighborhood, I saw the homeowners standing in the yard, assessing the damage. I introduced myself to Vert and his wife, Mel, told them how terrible I felt for them, and asked how I could help. Vert responded, “We are blessed.” What? Vert told me he, his wife, and their three boys, one of whom is in a wheelchair, all got out safely, by the Lord’s grace. A great blessing indeed. I admired Vert’s faith. I contemplated what a close, trusting…

I HAVE LEARNED THAT SOMETHING can be good, but if it’s not God’s will for me, it is not good at all. Recently, I accepted a job teaching in a public high school, which I’d considered as a career change post-divorce. While I’d been a volunteer tutor, a mentor, and a Sunday school teacher, I had no formal education or training in the classroom. Still, the opportunity presented itself. The timing was perfect. I enjoyed the students and my fellow teachers, and I could work toward obtaining the proper teaching credentials. With two school-aged children, it seemed like the perfect career for me. But after the semester started, I had significant misgivings about teaching. I was committed for the school year, and Jesus carried me through it, but it definitely…

IN MY FAMILY, I’M THE designated door-checker. I can’t imagine drifting off to sleep without going through my nightly routine, making sure the garage door is down, blinds are closed, and doors are locked. Maybe that’s because as a child I was so scared from the combination of the dark and my vivid imagination. After the crucifixion, the disciples were together “with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders” (John 20:19–20, NIV). They had heard that Jesus had risen from the dead but did not know what to think. Suddenly, Jesus appeared, saying, “Peace” and inviting them to see His scars. The disciples were overjoyed when they knew He was with them. When I allow fear to rule my mind, it locks out many things— opportunities to do…

I KNOW “CHANGE IS THE only constant in life” (according to the Greek philosopher Heraclitus), but I’ve experienced an unusual amount of change at work recently. In addition to coworkers leaving the company for new opportunities, there’s been movement among the management team. This has led to a shift in the way I do my job. I know change often brings opportunity, but it can make me feel unsettled. Unsettled may also be the way to describe how the disciples felt when they were around Jesus in Samaria. First, Jesus chose to travel through Samaria on His way to Galilee—a route Jews typically avoided. And while in Samaria, Jesus intentionally engaged in conversation with a Samaritan woman. The disciples weren’t the only ones surprised by Jesus’s behavior. Even the woman…

HOW MANY INDIVIDUALS WERE TOUCHED by Jesus during His earth ministry? We may never know the full extent, but we know of a few. The book of John states that if every single thing Jesus did were recorded, every life He touched, every miracle He performed, every grace—large or small—that He demonstrated, all the libraries in all the world couldn’t hold all of them. And that was said two millennia ago! Imagine what John would say now. Not long ago, I had the privilege of visiting the library on the Biltmore estate, George Vanderbilt’s collection. An avid reader, Vanderbilt had collected more than 23,000 volumes by the time of his death. That’s one massive library, in one building, in one tiny corner of the world. Impressive as it was to…

DURING A QUIET AFTERNOON, I visited my social media site. As I scrolled, a friend request and private message popped up. My fingers froze on the mouse pad. My pulse quickened. The name was familiar. One I hadn’t heard in decades. Years ago, my husband and I discontinued contact with a few relatives, moved out of state, and built a new life. Complacent in the comfortable world we now occupied, we forgot the past and the broken relationships we’d left behind. Although we’d forgiven those relatives, we’d never truly resolved our differences. I braced myself and opened the message. The words held no bitterness or anger. This grown man, whom we hadn’t seen since his childhood, had reached out to us in openness and vulnerability. A verse floated through my…

I FELT EXHAUSTED AFTER a busy day of numerous appointments with my kids. As I thought about what to make for dinner, a renewed energy sizzled within me. I remembered that my husband, John, and I had planned a date. I’d order pizza for the kids and babysitter while we enjoyed a meal out. Dating my spouse has become a beloved activity. Sometimes we go to a restaurant to share the experience of delicious food we don’t normally eat in our kid-friendly kitchen. Or we might go on a walk along a nature trail to drink in the beauty of nature while having uninterrupted conversations. Other times, we take in a movie and enjoy popcorn. But the point isn’t the food, the entertainment, or a serene setting. The point of…

THE POWER WALK FROM THE parking lot, eight minutes from our destination, would either get us there in time for our 10:15 appointment … or give us both heart attacks. My friend and I had been blessed to discover two spots had opened up for a modified selfguided tour of the Biltmore “castle” in Asheville, North Carolina. We’d seen the schedule online. Completely full except for our two spots and a handful at the end of the day when a tour would allow us little more than a wink and nod at the magnificent 250-room edifice. We feared that missing the 10:15 window would either mean we would be relegated to the end-of-day slots or we’d have to forfeit the experience altogether. We’d done the best we could to get…

MY BIRTHDAY IS JUST AROUND the corner, and I dread it. Not just because of the extra digit added to my age, although I’m not thrilled about that, but because people will give me gifts. I like giving others presents—I’m good at giving—but receiving? Not so much. I blush and mumble. I worry that the giver spent too much. I agonize over how I will reciprocate. Recently, my friend Pam sent me a dozen handmade note cards after I’d admired her handiwork. When the package of lovely alloccasion cards arrived, I was overwhelmed. “Thank you so much!” I said. “May I pay you? What can I do for you?” I wanted to know how I could repay Pam for her thoughtful gift. “Your thanks are enough,” she answered. Really? How…

WHEN MY ATHLETICALLY TALENTED SON, Pierce, was young, he played youth-league sports. Even when the team was totally awful, each child received a trophy. I know that the well-meaning idea was to encourage budding athletes. However, I feared the real result was that the children would get a distorted sense of their true abilities. I worried that their value would be on shaky ground indeed, with all sorts of negative consequences including both false pride and lousy self-esteem. While some of us, including me, can certainly suffer from paralyzing insecurities, I think many of us have a harder time having the kind of “sober” self-judgment Paul speaks of in this verse. Paul also addresses the key to objective self-assessment: recognizing all we are and have is due solely to the…

A PICTURE OF A PUPPY on Facebook made me smile. The photog rapher caught the canine bounding toward the camera. Its ears were laid back as though windblown, and its tongue flapped from the corner of its mouth. Its facial expression reflected sheer delight. The caption said, “Live like someone left the gate open.” I looked at that photo and thought, This is the way we, as believers, ought to live. Before I gave my life to Jesus, the enemy of my soul kept me in chains. He held me captive in his kingdom of darkness. I was a slave to sin and doomed to its consequences. But Jesus purchased my freedom. He broke those chains and opened the gate. Sometimes I live as though I’m still locked up. I…

MY OLDEST SON, JACK, CAME to Idaho for a visit this summer. While he was here, we headed to the cell phone store to trade in his phone. We hadn’t lived in Meridian very long, and I was still finding my way around the downtown area. Things quickly went awry. I was talking to him and got turned around. I drove onto a one-way street going the wrong way—into oncoming traffic. Luckily for us, it wasn’t busy, just a single car stopped in the middle lane at the light. Quick maneuvering got us back on track and to the phone store. For the remainder of his visit, Jack chose to ride with my husband. He wanted to be with the guy who actually knew where he was going. I often…

AS I PREPARE TO LEAVE my home, I slip on my favorite watch, an old wind-up style I received at my high school graduation. It’s elegant, requires no batteries, and has a feature not often found anymore. The second hand doesn’t sweep gracefully around the dial. Instead, it ticks along, sixty times per minute. Every instant that passes is recognized, and that matters to me. Why is a single, tiny increment of time so important? Because at one particular moment I didn’t believe in Jesus and the next I did. In that instant my mind stopped wavering, and I made the decision that would change my life forever. My soul escaped the grip of sin and was set free. All because the Creator of time itself chose to use His…

OUR JACK RUSSELL/CHIHUAHUA mix loves to play fetch. Throw Flash a tennis ball and he would play for hours if he could. One afternoon, a neighbor threw the ball with Flash for over an hour. Flash could not stop running after and retrieving it. Something innate within him compels him to get that ball and bring it back to the thrower, no matter where it goes or how tired he gets. The next day, Flash was so sore and exhausted that he couldn’t even jump up on the couch to nap. He’d worn himself out the day before chasing after the tennis ball. I had to lift his little body onto his pillow so he could rest and recover. I’m a whole lot like Flash when it comes to my…

I’D NEVER SEEN A SNAKE in this town until recently. Surprisingly, there was a HUGE garter snake, about five feet long, on the sidewalk downtown. I got a friend to come out of his storefront to see the reptilian visitor slithering out onto the road. We watched as it retreated into a drainage pipe in the gutter. When I was trying to identify that snake so out of place on the downtown pavement, I learned about brumation. Brumation is a form of hibernation unique to reptiles. A natural science website says reptiles like to hide and burrow in, to stay safe and warm. This causes their breathing, heart rate, and temperature to drop—similar to what happens during hibernation. After a series of recent upsetting events, I’ve been in a state…

I FIRST NOTICED THE SIGNS in a few yards near my home: a thin, unfinished wood cross with three words stenciled in black, ALL IS WELL. I assumed a local church had passed them out to members for Easter week. Then the signs began popping up everywhere. An online search revealed that a local family had made the signs to distribute free to residents. Unfortunately, the deadline for picking one up had passed. The next day, a neighbor offered me one of the leftovers she had in her car. A few months after I stuck that sign in my flower bed, my husband and I left home under evacuation orders. A historic hurricane roared through southwest Louisiana for hours that evening, flattening buildings and uprooting trees. Three days later, my…

WHETHER SCANNING FRIENDS’ POSTS IN my online newsfeed, bingewatching DIY tutorials from my favorite online mentors, or catching up on the latest tweets and videos of my favorite influencers, I’m always being asked to “Like, Share, and Follow.” Every time I see or hear those ubiquitous words of online invitation, I can’t help but think about how that pertains to the One I’m really meant to be following. Bombarded with daily social media requests to “Like, Share, and Follow,” I often ask myself if I’m doing that with Jesus. In today’s scripture, Jesus tells me to not only “like” Him but to love Him with all my heart, soul, and mind. What’s more, the Bible instructs me to tell everyone about the amazing things He does (Psalm 96:3). So, I’m…

MY HUSBAND PLANTED A NEW peach tree near the pond behind our house. Unlike apple or pear trees, peach trees self-pollinate. It will produce fruit on its own in a few years when it’s mature. Hopefully, it will be more fruitful than the tree it replaced. Each spring, our original peach tree sprouted a ball of green leaves, but it didn’t produce the luscious fruit we hoped for. I gave up on making homemade peach cobbler from its bounty. Then, one summer morning, I spotted a new color mingled with its green leaves. Six round, beautiful peaches. Finally, we had fruit! But the next year the tree was barren, and the following year, it died. That peach tree reminds me of the leafy fig Jesus encountered. Because a fig tree…

NEARLY EVERY NIGHT I’M AWAKENED by singing. And not my own. My ninety-one-year-old grandmother lives with us, and if she awakens in the night, she often sings until she can go back to sleep. Living with this godly saint has taught me much about how to live the Christian walk. If my grandma is hurting, she prays aloud. If she struggles to sleep, she sings praises to Jesus. When she is concerned about family members, she lifts their names to Jesus in prayer. Hardships haven’t hindered Grandma’s close relationship with Jesus—it’s just the opposite. She is close to Jesus because she turns to Him in the midst of her troubles. I also have this type of relationship with Jesus because Grandma has taught me to do the same. Over the…

A FRIEND ONCE TOLD ME, “How can Jesus fill a wallet that’s already full?” I’ve never forgotten that. It has helped me through many dust-bunnies-in-my-bank-account moments. Jesus is the ultimate provider. He’s also the ultimate reminder, through His Holy Spirit. Yesterday, I had lunch with a new friend and felt moved to pay for her meal too. The week had been especially lean with expenditures, leaving little excess. But the whisper was unmistakable. Pay for hers too. It did not come as a surprise that, almost to the dollar, Jesus restored what I’d spent on lunch before the day was over. He’s done that so many times in the past that, although I still marvel at His grace, it no longer shocks me. Is that one of the secrets to…

I’M BOMBARDED WITH ADVERTISEMENTS PROMISING to make my life better—revolutionary new weight-loss programs, once-in-a-life-time business opportunities, deep discounts on the latest fashions. There’s often a built-in element of urgency. Offer expires soon! Hurry, quantities are limited! Our competitors sell items like these for twice the price! How can I resist? Last comes the guarantee. Their sales pitches are backed by a guarantee based on the company’s good name. There’s absolutely no risk to me, the customer. I’d be a fool not to take advantage of such fabulous life-improving offers. Right? In reality, I’ve everything I need. Today, I’m relaxing in the Truth that there’s no expiration date on the Promises of Jesus. Yes, there’s an urgency for anyone who hasn’t yet received Him as their Lord and Savior. For we…

FOR THE FIRST FEW YEARS after our move to New Hampshire, I could barely keep my head above water. I had three young kids running me ragged, all while trying to get our family established in the community. I joined the local MOMS Club, volunteered at our church, and hosted a constant rotation of playdates. The incessant doing left me operating on caffeine and autopilot to the point that I put the wrong address on the envelope of Mom’s birthday card last year, and my mother still lived in my childhood home! I just wrote my mother a birthday card today. In it, I was effusive about how much I loved and appreciated her. Then, I double- and triple-checked that I wrote the address correctly on the envelope. I wanted…

IN THE PAST WHEN I received a compliment, I had to fight the urge to put myself down. If I felt that I was getting too much attention, I believed I had to divert praise away from myself and quickly put the spotlight on someone else in order to be humble. Whew! Haughtiness averted. Or so I thought. I didn’t realize I was actually bringing more attention to myself through a form of false humility. False humility is self-centered. In his book The Purpose-Driven Life, Pastor Rick Warren wrote, “Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.” A sign of true humility is using the talents and abilities Jesus gave me to benefit others. Though Jesus had divine status and authority, the life He lived…

THE SMALL HALLWAY AT THE school where I taught was congested during the five-minute transition between class periods, so I waited for it to empty before heading to the office. I opened the door and sighed. The hallway was now clear of students but littered with trash. I gathered what I could and was about to throw it away, when a small scrap of paper caught my attention. It was a note, printed neatly on floral stationery, that read, “Fixing your eyes on Jesus will help you stop trying to fix everything yourself. Love, Mom.” I smiled and wondered which of my students had dropped that sweet message of encouragement. What challenging circumstances was the teenager facing, and why was he or she trying to fix them all alone? Who…

AS I’VE GOTTEN OLDER, I’ve realized the need to eat healthfully. But that’s easier said than done. I’ve identified behavioral patterns that self-sabotage my best intentions. The most flagrant happens when I drive long distances. That’s when I tend to binge on potato chips. I justify myself by claiming that the crunch keeps me awake at the wheel. And then there’s the red licorice. No crunch there, but I indulge anyway. Guilt floods me when I see the empty junk-food wrappers. You’re a failure. You blew it again, whispers an accusatory voice in my head. In past years, I let that little voice heap condemnation on me. The weight of guilt drove me to eating junk food for comfort. I reasoned that gobbling a chocolate bar wouldn’t make any difference…

I’M A GIFT GIVER BY nature. I love finding little treats to give my three boys and my husband, Scott. Even getting their favorite bag of chips lets them know that I love them and I’m thinking of them. I also enjoy finding presents for my sisters and my mom. We have the same taste when it comes to books, magazines, chocolate, and candles. Their looks of delight bring me delight. Lately, I’ve been involved in a new kind of gift giving. I joined a community partnership that throws baby showers for expectant and new mothers who are refugees. New moms deserve some treats, and these ladies need a little extra love and care because many are far from extended family. I remember my days of early motherhood so vividly.…

MY HUSBAND, JEFF, AND I own a little condominium on the beach in Galveston. We love to vacation there, but it’s also our pleasure to offer it to family and friends. My daughter-in-law’s parents had planned to use it for the weekend, so Jeff and I drove down and spent hours cleaning furiously to make the place sparkle. One final look told me the condo was perfect and guest-ready. We’d been on the road, headed for home, for an hour when it dawned on me I didn’t buy coffee for them. Jeff reminded me there was a free coffee bar downstairs, or they could walk across the street to Walgreens if they wanted to make their own. My mood soured. Instead of being satisfied with our day of hard cleaning,…

I UNASHAMEDLY SPOIL OUR FOUR cats. I talk baby talk to them, sing them goofy songs, and give them too many treats. I discovered my penchant for pets the autumn after I turned six. We’d recently moved into a new house. My brother, Danny, and I looked out our kitchen window that first Saturday morning and discovered five black-and-white kittens jumping in a pile of leaves. Danny beckoned Mom to the window. “Uh-oh,” she said. “Those aren’t cats. They’re skunks.” Mom called animal control to catch the critters, and we eventually adopted a kitten. I’ve been a cat lover ever since. As an adult, I can now easily distinguish a cat from a skunk. But I’m not always as smart with identifying myself. I might base my value on a…

MY FAVORITE PLACE TO SPEND mornings with Jesus is on my front porch steps. With a cup of coffee, God’s Word, and my favorite devotionals beside me, I feel the warmth of the sun rising over the field, casting a pink glow on the clouds in the sky. Entangled on the porch railing beside me, morning glories open to welcome the new day. Hummingbirds buzz to the vines and sip sweet syrup from the blossoms. Curious ones zoom inches from my face to inspect my red reading glasses before deciding I’m not a flower. Across the gravel road, another bird species flies above the wooded tree line. Buzzards circle high, surveying the area for safety before they dive down to partake of their food source. Hummingbirds and buzzards both feast…

I’D PUT OFF THE PROJECT for weeks. I’d waited for an open day when I had nothing else to do and could proceed in peaceful contemplation. Moments into my bliss, someone knocked on the front door. A power company employee stood on my porch. They were removing ancient and unreliable overhead power lines in favor of buried cable. “Sorry, ma’am, but it looks like we’re going to need to dig up your driveway.” Because an underground water pipe burst years ago, we had to replace a strip of the driveway with a concrete patch until we could afford to replace all the asphalt, which is now also ancient. I pointed to that unsightly spot, hoping that would be their work site. “Uh, no. We have to dig it up over…

I ATTACHED THE TOUR DIRECTOR name tag to my shirt, grabbed my heavy backpack, and headed for the lobby, the hotel room door slamming behind me. With clipboard in hand, I corralled guests to an awaiting motor coach, all while answering their many questions. My busy, wonderful day was off to a great start. The bus driver maneuvered New York City traffic as I spoke into the microphone, sharing details about the sites—Times Square, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Rockefeller Center, the Empire State Building, and Central Park. We stopped in lower Manhattan. “New Yorkers call this building the Freedom Tower. Its official name, however, is One World Trade Center. From the ground to the tip of its spire, it reaches 1,776 feet, representing the birthday of our country.” I allowed time…

IT WASN’T HIM. IT COULDN’T be! But the man sitting in front of me at church resembled my brother from the back—same bald spot, same ears, same slim build. When he turned, I saw it wasn’t my brother, but I couldn’t ignore the nudge from Jesus. I needed to get in touch with Bob. A dispute over our mother’s care had caused a rift between Bob and me. After Mother died, Bob told me he never wanted to see me again, and that was fine with me. It had been eleven years since I’d seen my brother. With time, the anger and bitterness had subsided, but pride prevailed. I wasn’t going to be the first one to beg for forgiveness. A few years ago, I began sending Bob Facebook messages…

THE RICH YOUNG RULER DIDN’T want to give up his wealth to follow Jesus. The typical takeaway of this story is that we shouldn’t make wealth our idol. True, but I think there’s even more to it. This man had done the visibly good stuff of keeping the Ten Commandments. But Jesus’s truth was uncomfortable to him. Jesus wanted him to come to terms with who he truly was, deep down, behind the facade he presented to appear acceptably “holy.” Maybe the deepest issue tripping him up was his unwillingness to see his hang-ups and strongholds for what they were. Even more than his money, was it his will, his openness to honest selfevaluation, that he was unwilling to let Jesus have and re-create? When presented with a choice, he…

MY MORNING APPOINTMENT was on an unfamiliar college campus, and I drove through the parking lot, scanning the large letters on the sides of the buildings in search of the administration department. Slowly, I weaved through the rows of parking spaces, keeping my eyes peeled for the correct building. At one point, a gaggle of geese wandered in front of my car. I had to stop, roll down my window, and holler to shoo them out of my way. That’s when a campus police officer appeared in my rearview mirror. He got out of his patrol car and stomped toward the driver’s side of my car, a scowl on his face. “Why are you driving through a restricted area, ma’am?” He pointed to the small signs on the chainlink fence.…

WHEN WE FIRST VISITED FLORIDA to figure out where to live, we stayed at a popular upscale hotel chain in West Palm Beach that had an amazingly low room rate. The hotel was a new high rise with a gorgeous resort-style pool. Several blocks from the beach, it was close to plenty of shopping and entertainment. I wondered why the price was so low but shook it off, thrilled with our bargain and the prospect of being surrounded by luxury. The morning after we arrived, I set out for my early morning run. I stopped at the front desk to ask about a running route. The clerk’s eyes grew wide. “Whatever you do, don’t turn left!” he said, explaining the hotel was in a dangerous part of town. The hotel…

“MRS. DYSON, YOUR MAMMOGRAM SHOWED a mass …” The nurse continued talking, but I didn’t hear a word. I took a deep breath and asked her to repeat herself. I’d need to come back to MD Anderson for further testing in two weeks. Jesus, how can I endure the wait? My friend Judy, who has suffered more heartbreak than anyone I know, told me she used to try to manage problems by herself, but when she trusted the Lord to handle things, she had peace. I’d tried that, too, but I’m a natural worrier. I always took them back. Further mammograms revealed the need for a biopsy. My anxiety grew the longer I waited to hear the results. The mass appeared benign, but some atypical cells required the medical committee…

AS A YOUNG CHRISTIAN, I learned about Jesus’s call to be His witness to the ends of the earth. I assumed I was meant to become a missionary. I read biographies of missionaries to faraway countries. I attended conferences and listened to talks by those serving on the other side of the globe. When Jesus didn’t lead me in that direction, I felt as if I’d failed Him. But Jesus is full of surprises. Through my choreography work, He provided me an opportunity to help a mission group in Hong Kong. In my writing life, He opened doors for my books to be translated into Dutch and Indonesian, and for my devotionals to reach around the world. I’m so grateful for those unexpected experiences to share my faith and the…

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO, MY HUSBAND set up slacklines between two trees in our backyard. The lower line served as a tightrope for the kids to walk on while they held on to the upper rope to steady themselves. Practice has paid off, and they’re able to drop their hold on the upper line and walk steadily for longer stretches. Adding another element to the challenge, we had some overgrowth cleared in that area, and the new grass took a while to establish. The ground beneath the line was thick with mud in the early weeks, so falling off the slack line resulted in tugging a lost shoe or sock from the mire—motivation to learn fast how to stay up there. I’m watching my kids develop focus and muscle memory by…

I USED TO THINK OF idols as primitive carvings of bizarre figures or the golden calf described in Exodus 32. Raised Catholic, I was accustomed to statues, paintings, and other artistic renderings of Jesus, Mary, biblical figures, and assorted saints as a common expression of faith and worship. Those were never considered idols to me, but that doesn’t mean I’ve lived idol-free. The dictionary defines idol as both “an image or representation of a god used as an object of worship” and “a person or thing that is greatly admired, loved, or revered.” In the language of faith, an idol is anything I put before God. Paul further clarifies sins that are idols—anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive language (Colossians 3:8). The reality is, there are much more threatening idols…

WHENEVER I HAVE A MEDICAL appointment, I know one question I’ll probably ask: “How do I get out of here?” One clinic I visit has a front door followed by a door into the orthopedics section. When my name was called, I entered a door into the wing with a group of doctors, then walked through a doorway to find my specific doctor, which led me down several twisting hallways to finally arrive at the designated exam room. I felt like I needed a GPS just to find the exit door. I like the theme of only one door in the Bible: one door in the ark, one doorway in the tabernacle, and Jesus as the Door. In New Testament times, a sheep pen had only one opening. At night,…

TWO FRIENDS, CYNDY AND THERESA, and I learned to make sourdough bread together. We gathered in Theresa’s kitchen and watched a video of an Irish man, with a lovely accent, demonstrate the process. We imitated everything he did, taking turns doing the different steps. We let the dough rise overnight and met again the next day for the final steps, then we placed the dough in the oven. The loaves turned out wonderfully! The first time I made it on my own, however, my bread was dense rather than airy. I called my friends, and they helped me figure out my mistake of letting the dough “proof,” or rise, too long. Making sourdough bread is more difficult than I imagined. Life is like that, too, especially when challenges arise. Doing…

I’VE NOTICED IN THE LAST few years that my thoughts tend to stray toward the catastrophic. My overblown worries seem to overflow on those I love most. If my son Jack, who is away in college, doesn’t text for a week, I wonder if he’s been kidnapped. When my youngest, Addison, goes to the mall with friends, I fret until he’s home. My middle son’s sarcastic response to my fear-riddled thinking made me realize how frequently fear has wormed its way into my soul. When Will flew to California last month to visit with friends, I counted the minutes until I could text him. When his plane finally landed, I sent the message, “How was your flight?” “It crashed. I am dead,” came his reply. Living with anxiety is not…

WE’D HAD A COULD SNAP in southeast Wyoming. Our pump was deep below the frost line, so we trusted it was good. But the few feet of exposed pipe between the pump and the subsoil froze. My husband, Mike, worked on it for hours, but the water wouldn’t flow. I drove to the big-box store for space heaters and heat tape. Nada. Their shelves were bare. There was nothing else we could do, so we prayed and asked Jesus to unfreeze the pipes for us and went to bed. But I didn’t really trust Jesus to take care of the problem. I awoke at 3 a.m. worrying. I was responsible for refreshments after church and couldn’t even wash my hands, much less the stack of dishes I’d produce, so I…

AS WE CLEANED MY DAUGHTER Melissa’s cottage to prepare it for listing, I got teary-eyed. Five years earlier, as a single mother, Melissa moved here with her five-year-old son, Winston. Back then, she was short on cash and in need of some grace. After her first marriage ended in divorce, Melissa and Winston moved in with us. During those two years, she completed her business degree and started a career. Understanding her desire to be on her own, my husband and I agreed to financially help her buy a house, but the one that seemed perfect was out of our price range. After much prayer, Melissa tendered her best offer, along with a letter. Dear Seller, For over a year, I’ve been searching for the perfect house where my son…

AS A HIGH SCHOOL ENGLISH teacher, I found that my favorite teaching strategy was questioning. When I had my class analyze literature, rather than lecture as my college professors had, I prepared thoughtful questions to lead my students to discover answers for themselves. I could have been the “sage on the stage,” telling students what I wanted them to know, while watching them doze. Or I could frame a question, write their responses on the board, and let them debate which answer was best. When students had questions, I asked the class if anyone could answer it. This questioning method forced my students to wrestle with the text, with their ideas, and with others’ interpretations. As a result, their understanding was much deeper than if I had simply lectured them.…

THERE’S A LOT OF “POWER” talk in our household lately. My husband is investigating adding solar power to our home. We’re polar opposites in our approach to this subject. While he’s studying solar panels, batteries, and inverters, I’m listing the small appliances I’d like to continue using. Regarding power, I identify with the comedian George Burns’ wife, Gracie Allen, who complained about her alarm clock not working. After extensive interrogation, the problem finally became clear when she naively explained, “I only plug it in when I need it.” I have to constantly guard against falling into that trap in my relationship with Jesus. Just as Gracie’s alarm clock wasn’t working because she only plugged it in when needed, likewise, my connection with Jesus won’t be powerful if I’m only plugging…

ZANE AND I STOPPED AT the grocery store to grab a few items. “Do you mind if I stay in the car?” I asked. Because I’ve done most of the grocery shopping over the past thirty-four years of our marriage, this has become one of my least favorite errands. It’s a necessary task, but it feels insignificant. I’d much rather be doing great things for Jesus than deciding what type of pasta noodles to purchase. As an empty nester, I expected this stage of my life would be filled with big adventures. But most days, I still need to do the ordinary daily duties: washing dishes, folding laundry, and keeping our pantry supplied. That afternoon, I was reading my Bible and came across the parable where Jesus talked about the…

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