Innehållsförteckning för September/October 2019 från Mornings with Jesus

I LEFT MY CELL phone at the office the other day. I only realized it halfway home, when I reached for the phone on the subway to check the news. Having checked the news just a half hour before. Then I reached for it again to see what the weather would be like tomorrow. And I wanted to text my wife to tell her the train was running slow. While I waited, I sure wished I could scroll through Instagram. Once I got home I emailed a colleague back at the office to see if my phone was there. Yep, right on my desk, where I left it. But I had to get through 12 excruciating hours with no texts, no apps, no cute photos, no podcast for the gym.…

SINCE I GREW UP AS a farmer’s daughter, I can easily relate to agricultural illustrations in the Bible. I remember my dad watching the weather, hoping our dusty cotton fields would get enough rain to keep the plants healthy and lead to a good harvest. Those few cotton bales represented our main source of income—some years, the only source. My dad sowed the crops in spring; we had to wait until after we chopped weeds all summer and then picked the cotton in autumn to see if the money would be enough to cover us for a year. Waiting is just plain hard, but Jesus calls us to exercise spiritual patience. That’s the kind we need as we go through life’s daily temptations, disappointments, and troubles that shake us to…

THIS PAST SPRING, WE PURCHASED a bunk bed. We thought we would put it together in a few hours. Not possible. We could not get the screw holes to line up on the frame. My husband, Scott, and I worked on it. My oldest son, Will, worked for hours trying to adjust the frame with an Allen wrench. And then a screwdriver. And then the Allen wrench again. At one point, the entire family was working on it. We gave up after two days. My younger son, Jack, was reading Dante’s Inferno at the time. He was convinced that trying to build furniture surely occupied one of the rings Dante wrote about. Finally, our friend Juan came over. He showed us that we had screwed the screws in too tight.…

THE FORECAST WAS GRIM AND getting grimmer by the minute. Hurricane Irma was an epic storm of historical proportions, her exact path completely unpredictable. All of Florida was in her crosshairs. Having recently moved to the state’s beautiful Suncoast, we’d never been through a hurricane and didn’t know what to expect. Even some jaded native Floridians were packing up and evacuating. We were peaceful. Conspicuously peaceful. We’d assembled our preparedness kit, but from the sounds of it, there was no preparing for the potential devastation ahead. Yet, we trusted God would care for us one way or another. As a family, we prayerfully made the decision to stay close to home and be available to help in the aftermath. At someone’s suggestion, I used my cell phone to film the…

ONE OF MY MANY JOBS as a mom is chief nurse. With my boys, I have seen countless scrapes and bruises, cuts that need cleaning, and, sometimes, stitches. And then there have been the races to the hospital with broken bones. Pain is never fun, but there are times in all our lives when it is a part of our journeys. This past week, I have spent time talking to two different friends who are both mourning the loss of a loved one. Their heartbreak is so real it is palpable. When we lose the people we love, there are yawning gaps in our hearts. Broken places. Wounds that will not easily be fixed. And I wish I could nurse people in their broken places, offering bandages and hugs and…

SOMEONE HAS APTLY SAID, “IT’S the little things that matter.” That truth materialized a few years ago when a television camera caught Dallas Cowboys’ quarterback Dac Prescott sitting on the bench, chugging a cup of water, and then tossing the cup over his shoulder toward a nearby garbage container. Only he missed it and the cup landed on the ground. To my amazement, the entire clip—especially what happened next—went viral on social media. Dac, unaware he was being filmed, had walked calmly over to the cup, picked it up, and placed it in the trash can. What was the big deal? The big deal is that little things really do matter. They often point out deeper issues like character or integrity—and the ability to be trusted in more important matters,…

MY DISHWASHER HAS A PLACE on the bottom rack where cups and jars don’t come clean. More than once, I’ve run the cycle and then emptied it, stacking the contents in the cupboard only to later find a mug that’s still coffee-stained on the inside. That’s a bit annoying, especially if guests find a dirty cup before I do. Dirty cups serve little use. Perhaps that’s why Jesus compared them to the Pharisees. These leaders fixated on looking good on the outside by obeying religious rules, but they cared less about their hearts’ condition. Their public behavior garnered man’s praise, but their hidden thoughts and motives received Christ’s rebuke. In the context of today’s verses, they were theologically clean, but lacked an understanding of practical Christianity demonstrated by love. They…

AS A CONFERENCE SESSION ENDED, a friend leaned close and clutched her white cane. “I have to meet my driver in a few minutes on the lower level. Could you direct me?” She laid her hand on my forearm as we walked miles of corridors to get to the correct escalator to the lower level. As we approached, I confessed that I can barely get myself on a downward escalator without looking clumsy. “I’m not sure how to get us both on without one of us tumbling face-first.” She squeezed my arm. “My dear, I travel alone all over the world. I’ve managed escalators and people movers in more countries than you’d realize. It’s not hard. Close your eyes.” Close my eyes? How would that help? “Can you feel the…

YESTERDAY, I SNACKED ON SOME cheese and nuts right before dinner. When it was time for supper, I didn’t eat much. Since I was no longer hungry, the food didn’t taste great. Years ago, I did a three-day fast. The first thing I ate afterward was a banana. I’ve never before or since tasted a banana that delicious. Hunger can make anything taste amazing. In much the same way, some days I read a section of Scripture and the words taste dull. That’s because I’m full of self: self-confidence, self-indulgence, self-assurance. I don’t come to the Bible with an awareness of my need and emptiness. I don’t come to Jesus hungry. Then there are other days I’m starving for the comfort food Jesus supplies. My heart is breaking while I’m…

THE NEXT OWNERS OF OUR house will have more than one head-scratching moment. “Why did they wallpaper this portion of the hallway with three-inch strips?” Because it was cheaper than buying a new roll of wallpaper to finish off that small section. “Why would they not have planted flowers or shrubs in that wide stretch between the flower beds near the deck?” Well, the septic tank is under there, and when it needs emptying, we didn’t want to uproot plants to uncover the access lid. “Is there a reason they didn’t cut down that scraggly-looking crab apple tree?” Yes. The deer are crazy fans of what falls from its branches. Our traditions may not be appreciated by the new owners. And that’s okay. Jesus confronted those who accused Him of…

MY SON HARPER HAS A group of friends he’s been close with since third grade. They all play sports together, and they love hunting and fishing and having a good time. I love them all. My husband, Stone, and I enjoy having them at our house for campouts and cooking big pancake breakfasts in the morning. As they’ve gotten older, however, I’ve had some concerns about how my son might navigate the differences he has with many of his friends. Teenage years bring decisions about girls, parties, and other things that can be challenging. Harper had his first “real” girlfriend this year, and when they broke up, it broke his heart. One evening, we were talking about everything, and he told me one of the worst things about breaking up…

TWO WOMEN IN THEIR LATE twenties or early thirties approached me where I stood at the back of the room after a speaking engagement. “Hi,” said one. “You probably don’t remember us.” They grinned self-consciously and waited for my response. A momentary search of my memory bank found their file. They’d been my students at the Christian high school where I’d worked in the dean’s department nearly three decades prior. Their names came to mind, and so did their history. How could I forget sitting in the principal’s office with them and their parents on the morning of graduation day, discussing whether their antics the night before would deny them the privilege of participating in the ceremony? I smiled. “Of course I remember you.” “That’s too bad,” said the other.…

WHEN I GOT DIVORCED, I mourned the demise of my marriage—something that was once very much alive had died. At the time, I was in need of peace and comfort. Throughout the New Testament, Jesus was often summoned to comfort those in need. Unlike the haughty religious leaders of the time, Jesus was hands-on. His time was relatively short on earth, so He made every effort to touch as many people as possible. Many of them needed comfort and restoration. In Luke 8:41, we see Jairus, a rich Jewish ruler who threw himself at Jesus’s feet, seeking His help. Jairus’s daughter lay near death, and he’d heard about Jesus and the miracles He performed. Not only did Jesus bring this father’s sick child back to life; He even healed another…

I AM CONSTANTLY STICKING MY head out the back door or down the hallway and calling to my boys. “Jack! Will! Addison! Come here, please!” I have things I want to tell them. Like how they need to finish doing their dishes. Or that their monthly letter from their Grandma Foth has arrived. Or that I love them the most. I have so many things to share with them. Whenever I call them, I am looking for a response. Have they heard me? Are they ready to do what I have asked? Why aren’t they coming? I want them to come so that I can look into their eyes and see their faces. Our conversations are important to me. It does neither of us any good if they just keep…

I RAN THROUGH A CEMETERY this morning, Christian rap blasting incompatibly in my headphones. A running buddy told me about a nice route, three miles door to door. The tree-lined run meanders through a large cemetery. I turned under the somber brick arches, the scene more haunting as the gray sky yielded rain. It was soon clear that the cemetery was far more vast than it appeared from the road. The wandering path passed rows of markers, marble monuments, and bench-framed ponds with towering mausoleums and religious statues on the horizon. I glanced at names and dates as I trotted by. Husbands and wives, children, entire families, young and old—each life important. What struck me most were the monuments and crypts: majestic and extravagantly elegant structures, statues, and gilt-framed pictures…

AS WOMEN, WE CAN BE particularly adept at hiding our lights under a bowl, or a bushel, or under whatever might keep us from shining too brightly. Personally, I know that for every time I’ve found myself listening to a male coworker, friend, or relative “mansplaining,” there has probably also been a time when I’ve had something to share but chosen not to. If there is a choice between shining our lights and avoiding making waves, sometimes we may choose not to shine. One time, my theology mentor asked me to teach her class while she was away. The first thing I did to prepare? I invited four colleagues to join me in teaching the class. I think I was afraid they would envy me if I kept the honor…

MY FLORIDA TOWN IS VERY artsy. Among the proof is an abundance of visible mosaics. The public library walls boast several colorful compositions. There are several whole houses around town encrusted to the shingles with odds and ends. Wild compositions of repurposed crockery, toys, bowling balls (yes, you read correctly), and, well, junk—interspersed with the tidy, more familiar glass and pottery tiles. Together with the tropical waterside setting, the overall effect is dazzlingly vibrant, colorful, and striking in a distinctive way. People travel from all over to visit our town, home to many arts and music festivals. The town also attracts an eclectic mix of permanent transplants, including many artists, musicians, and writers inspired by both the natural and creative beauty of the place. The combination of lush nature and…

I TEACH A LOT OF literature from the Victorian period, when the world was reeling from the publication of Darwin’s theory of natural selection. People were losing their faith en masse because they could not reconcile this new science with their version of Christianity. People still struggle with a choice between science and religion, but for me that’s a false choice. I appreciate the discoveries of that time and the descriptions of what happens in the natural world. But it’s a dark truth, for sure. The theory highlights the cruelty of the natural world, which is bad news for the poor, sick, very young, or elderly. Still, this truth only propels me toward God. It highlights our need to transcend natural instincts by taking a higher way. Following Jesus means…

WE HAVE TWO CARS. OUR old car and our good car. Our old car is a minivan that looks like we have driven it through a war zone, and the inside smells like old cheese. Our good car is an SUV that we bought used a few years ago. It looks nice and still has a faint odor of new-care smell. Up until recently, our good car has been good. Then it wasn’t. The steering started to go all wonky. (Wonky is clearly a technical term.) When turning to the right, the entire car would shudder and groan. We took it to our mechanic. The suspension had to be replaced along with the wheel bearings. And yet without them, our good car wasn’t any good. It couldn’t function the way…

THROUGH THE YEARS, MY UNDERSTANDING of prayer has deepened beyond my childish cries for Jesus to help me pass a test in school or convince my parents to let me date. Rather than using prayer only as a way to receive—though God’s Word tells us to ask (Matthew 7:7)—I began seeing it as a gift I can give to others, but especially to Jesus. One woman demonstrated that gift beautifully in Luke 7:38. Eager to express her love to Him, the sinful woman approached Jesus, who was eating at a table. She stooped before Him. Her prayerful tears mixed with an expensive jar of perfume that she used to wash Jesus’s feet. Then she dried them with her long hair and added kisses of gratitude. Jesus immediately read the judgmental…

MY TWO-YEAR-OLD GRANDDAUGHTER, LILAH, CIRCLED the living room, showing her finger to each one of us in turn. Beginning with her mommy and daddy, Lilah had six people look at her “owie.” We each reacted by saying something like “Oh no!” or “I’m sorry” and maybe offering a gentle kiss. It didn’t matter that there was barely anything to see on the injured finger. She had bumped it, and we were all ready to express sympathy—just as we had done the other times she exhibited an owie during our visit. As I watched Lilah go around the room, a thought came to me: She shares her hurts so freely because she knows she is loved. And then a second thought struck me: Am I that open with Jesus? I know…

MY FRIEND ORDERED A BUNCH of ceramic mugs that said, “God of All Comfort,” and gave me one as a gift. I’ve used it for years, thinking of her whenever I drink my tea from that cup. But after years of use, most of the words have worn off. All that remain are the big gold letters “God.” Last weekend, another friend was visiting, and I set out teabags and that mug for her. She stared at it and said, “I’d feel a little presumptuous using that cup.” We both laughed, and I explained what had happened to the lettering. Later, as I washed the dishes, I smiled at the tangible reminder that so many things are temporary in this life, but God remains. Throughout Scripture, the children of Israel…

THERE’S A SONG I LOVE by contemporary Christian band Big Daddy Weave called “My Story.” My favorite lyric talks about the kindness of Jesus and how it draws us in. There are a lot of other concepts like grace, hope, life, etc., in the song, but it’s this particular line that gets me every time. I think the reason may be that those other qualities are things I focus on more. But kindness is smaller. Quieter. In some ways more personal. When my daughter Stella was nervous about starting kindergarten, I talked to her about how smart she is, and pretty, and how she is loads of fun. “But you know what is most important? The thing I want you to remember most?” Her eyes were as shiny as diamonds.…

RECENTLY MY HUSBAND, LARRY, WAS returning from a men’s weekend fishing trip. Shortly after leaving the lake, several miles outside the small town, he called to let me know his truck had broken down. After trying repeatedly to restart it, he had finally phoned for help. The roadside assistance service, however, was unavailable. Larry was out of range of their area, and it was on a busy weekend. Fortunately, he had a marine battery in his boat. So he tried to jump-start the engine using that battery. The engine revved to life, but with each attempt, the truck died as soon as he disconnected the battery. He wasn’t sure what to do, but as we said good-bye, I agreed to pray with him for a solution. A half hour later,…

JESUS LOVED KIDS. THE BIBLE doesn’t speak much about His interactions with them except in a few verses, but it’s enough to recognize His kind and loving nature and understand He treasured children. He urges us to do the same. I believe Jesus’s admonition went well beyond our posterity. He clearly wants us to become childlike in our faith in Him. Young children are innocent and pure. In much the same way, God sees us as “innocent” and “pure” once we have accepted Christ, Who forgives our sins. Jesus wants us to become childlike in our faith, pure and trusting. Young children don’t question what Mom or Dad tell them to do; Jesus wants us to have that kind of obedience. Think about the qualities of young children. They are…

RESPECT FOR A BLIND FRIEND soared the day we sat together in a banquet hall prior to the keynote address. As the speaker adjusted his microphone, my friend pointed into space she could not see and asked me, “Is he there? This direction?” At first, I wasn’t sure what she meant. Then I realized the sound system made it difficult for her to determine where he was standing. I took my friend’s extended arm and aligned it with the person preparing to address the audience. “There.” My friend adjusted herself to face that spot on the platform. She wanted the speaker to know he had her full attention. Recently, I watched a short video segment of a speech President Harry Truman gave decades ago. Two men behind him chatted with…

HOPING TO DELAY SPINAL SURGERY, my doctor connected me with a physical therapist who recommended modified exercises to strengthen my core muscles. Since I had planned to leave town for two weeks, I put off starting the program. Then I needed a week to unpack when I returned. I kept thinking of other reasons to procrastinate. Suddenly, it was time for an appointment with the physical therapist—to measure how much progress I had made. I also procrastinate when it comes to spiritual exercises, like Bible reading, prayer, and personal worship. God has provided tools and resources to help us strengthen our faith, grow in godliness, and prepare ourselves to serve Him faithfully. Inconsistency or neglect in these areas can leave us weak and stunt our spiritual growth. But until I…

KINDERGARTEN WAS QUITE AN ADJUSTMENT for our youngest, Stella. The first day, she got stung by a yellow jacket on the playground. The second day, she came home and declared, “I hate kindergarten. I cannot be just me. I have to be a different me at school. It rained all day, and I couldn’t run, jump, whistle, sing, or laugh. I have to sit crisscross applesauce for six hours while the teacher talks, and we don’t get anything to eat that whole time. Plus, I hardly get to see Jim at all.” Jim, her uncle, is the superintendent of the school district. Stella assumed since he worked at school, she would have constant access to him. She must have imagined he’d be there to hug her, play with her, and…

MY HUSBAND, RAY, AND I wake up most mornings in the dark. I often roll out of bed and onto my knees, asking God to frame the day, to make me useful in His hands. We both retreat to our metaphorical prayer closets, before the children wake, for carefully guarded quiet time. I grab a hot cup of coffee and my supply of Bible, books, and journal, and settle down for reading, prayer, journaling, and meditation. Sounds really holy, doesn’t it? It’s not. A few minutes into it, my iPad chirps and I check Messenger. That inevitably leads to a few minutes scrolling my Facebook news feed. Like, like, like. Time for more coffee. Gosh, the counter has a sticky film on it, let me just wipe that down. Wait,…

THE OTHER NIGHT, MY SON, Jack, woke me up an hour after I had gone to bed. His dad had warned him against it, but Jack wanted to remind me to order his summer reading books. I greeted him with great anger. I was delirious and had to apologize to him the next morning. I said, “Jack, I can’t remember what I said to you last night, but I know it wasn’t very nice.” He told me. “You said, ‘What is wrong with you?’ and ‘Why in the world would you wake me up?’ You were pretty mad.” Harsh words for a son who is trying to be responsible about his schoolwork. “I am so sorry, Jack! I was tired, but I shouldn’t have gotten upset at you.” He forgave…

YESTERDAY, I MET WITH A diverse group of Christian authors over lunch. It started out as a job-related gathering, a time to brainstorm and critique each other’s pieces. An inspirational writer’s life can be isolated, so receiving feedback from others in the field seemed to be a good idea. Our personal differences spanned politics, income, writing styles, and personalities, making for lively conversation. Over time, our talks spread into other areas of our lives. Illness, unemployment, rejections from editors; we covered them all in tea and sympathy. Prayers over challenges were matched by praises over weddings, births, and writing contracts. Sharing our joys and sorrows wove a tapestry of deep friendship. Bringing together Christians of diversity delights Jesus. He spots goodness in others that we might otherwise miss. He enjoys…

WHEN I AM IN NATURE, I often hear Jesus reminding me: “The answers to your questions are right here. Open your eyes to the truth and beauty unfolding all around you. I’m communicating with you through all creation!” Just the other day, I was on a hike up a mountain, and I brought my troubles with me. In my mind, I was replaying an argument I had had with my husband and was feeling frustrated. The trail was surrounded by dense woods until, somewhere near the top of the mountain, I came to a clearing. Looking out, I could see a mountain range extending far into the distance, mountain after mountain, green, then blue, then smoky gray. The points of the farthest mountaintops faded into the horizon. White clouds floated…

AFTER A RESTLESS NIGHT, I approached my desk with dread. I’d prayerfully accepted a writing project, but right after I’d made the decision, the deadline loomed large. Instead of getting started on the work, I was paralyzed by my fear, much like the children of Israel on the threshold of the Promised Land. When the twelve spies went ahead into Canaan, they returned with a report of amazing blessings. But ten of the men could only focus on the giants in the way. I relate to that strange combination of longing and panic. We want to go forward, but the way seems impossible. Jesus has given us today a friend to comfort, a family member to support, a story to write, a garden to weed, children to feed, a business…

LAST NIGHT, I HAD A terrible nightmare—a night terror, really. Lying awake in the darkness like a frightened toddler, I reached for my husband, David, and softly hugged his warm, slumbering body. Just touching my hand to his chest helped settle my mind. Moments later, roused from sleep, he spoke gentle words that calmed my frayed nerves. “Shh. You had a bad dream. You’re safe, honey.” I fell back to sleep, safe and secure in his arms. This morning, I battled several anxiety-triggering situations. Stressors requiring my immediate attention piled up as fast as dirty laundry, until the tiniest irritation threatened an emotional outburst. It was time to pull myself free and race like a child to the Lord. Occasionally when I’m upset, all I need to do is rest…

“JESUS HAS MORE IMPORTANT MATTERS to deal with than my small problems!” Those words from an acquaintance surprised me, then made me wonder. How did I really feel about that statement? I think I’ve always believed that Jesus cares about the details of our lives. I remember one day years ago, the temperature reached three-digit heat. Our dog had destroyed our small, above ground swimming pool, and we asked Jesus to provide another pool for our daughters. Three days later, a friend called: “Could your girls use a swimming pool? My kids have outgrown theirs.” We included Jesus in so many details that our grown children joke about the times we hesitated over buying pizza after church. But as the years pass, it’s easy to slip unconsciously into a “Don’t…

PSALM 107 IS ONE OF my favorites, because hidden within the poetry is a glimpse into an aspect of our Savior that offers profound comfort. The psalm describes different groups and the specific struggles they faced. Some wandered in the wilderness, facing hunger. Some sat in darkness, imprisoned. Some suffered from sinful choices. Some faced storms on the sea. But God met each group in its place of need and delivered every one. For the hungry and homeless, He led them to a home and provided food. For the imprisoned, He offered light and freedom. For those suffering the results of their sins, He brought healing and redemption. For those in peril due to the weather, He calmed the storm. The history of God’s faithfulness always lifts my heart in…

MY DOCTOR OF TWENTY-TWO YEARS retired, so I found a new one whose specialty extended beyond symptomatic pain to include whole-body wellness. I first visited my new physician because of recurring hip pain. Though I’ve been fairly healthy, I have dealt with other chronic issues for many years. After a series of tests showed some areas of deficiency, she took time to explain how healing was a chain reaction, involving all the parts of the body, not just one area. I understood enough about the process to follow her directives. Continual testing revealed other hidden problems, and my doctor addressed those too. One by one, we worked through my weaknesses. Treatment took time and patience, but I made significant progress. The hip pain disappeared, and over time my health and…

EVER LEFT A CONVERSATION FEELING cheated because it was so one-way that you might as well have not been present? Maybe you know someone who has a habit of cutting people off midsentence so they can offer their own opinions on a subject. Or someone who rattles on with one personal story after another, without giving anyone else a chance to share. Whew! Some conversations can leave us feeling exhausted after trying so hard to jump in. We have good reasons to ask the Lord to guard our mouths. We also have to control our mouths if we want to develop good listening skills. When we listen well to others, it communicates respect and shows them we care. Jesus demonstrated the power of being an effective listener. People felt comfortable…

I WAS RUNNING LATE ONE day for an appointment in Manhattan. After I got off the commuter train from Long Island, I hurried to the entrance of the subways and pulled out my MetroCard so I could get on the express uptown. But as I swiped my card and tried to press my way through the turnstile, it wouldn’t budge. “Insufficient Funds,” the screen blinked. I’d forgotten to refill my card with enough money. The folks behind me were instantly annoyed because I was holding up the line. I eventually got to my appointment, but the whole situation made me think: what if Jesus had “insufficient” grace? We’d be in big trouble. The good news is, that will never happen. His love for us is eternal and so is His…

I’VE HEARD THE WARNING SEVERAL times. No smoking is allowed in the lavatories on planes. But on a recent flight, my fellow travelers and I were subjected to secondhand smoke of the language variety. In that confined space of the plane’s interior, we couldn’t escape the foul words that lingered in the air. A plane is noisy enough in flight to cover most conversations. But the man in 11B somehow made himself heard many rows in front of and behind him. What came out of his mouth contaminated him . . . and all those on whom his words fell. He illustrated what Jesus said in Matthew 15:11. The verse that follows verse 11 is a curiosity to me: “Then the disciples came and said to him, ‘Do you know…

MY SISTER-IN-LAW HAS BEEN VOLUNTEERING with a Christian ministry that helps convicts transition into life outside prison. One day, as she met with inmates to help them put together résumés and ideas for future employment, one of the men looked at the name of their organization. He said, “Oh, this is the one where you have to go to church to participate, isn’t it?” My sister-in-law smiled. “No. This is the program where you get to go to church . . . a place where you meet others, find support, and can network about jobs and housing leads. And more important, this is the place where you get to hear about your Savior who loves you.” What a wonderful description! Attending church services isn’t an odious requirement; it’s a tremendous…

WE AMERICANS LOVE, LOVE, LOVE superheroes. Check out your local marquee any time of year and you’re sure to find one or more Marvel or DC blockbusters. Kids and adults both clamor for heroics, and caped costumes sell out everywhere for Halloween. I’m a big fan too! But most superheroes start with tragedy, disadvantage, underachievement, cowardice, or outright terror. Almost always, superheroes are broken people called to something greater than themselves. Often, we glimpse a tiny spark of greatness that will enable them to forge ahead. I’m remembering high school lit class. In some stories, the hero’s journey takes him through various difficult and often dangerous stages before he attains the prize or saves the world. I understand that there is loving camaraderie forged in shared trials. In real life,…

WHEN A WRITERS’ CONFERENCE SPEAKER encouraged us to start a Blessings Folder, I knew it would be a good idea. My life was falling apart, making it difficult to see anything positive. The speaker passed out copies of her favorite Bible verse and a funny story to get us started. As soon as I got home, I put them in a folder, along with a story that my oldest son had published. My Blessings Folder became one of my lifelines during a dark time, as I filled it with encouraging cards that arrived right when I needed them, notes about miraculous provisions, and other mementos. Every treasure that I added to the folder felt like a present from Jesus, saying, I’m still here, and you still have a lot of…

WE KEEP SEVERAL BIRDHOUSES IN our yard because we enjoy providing a place for birds to raise their young. In every corner of my garden you’ll find one, nestled among the branches or hanging from a shepherd’s hook. Large, small, and everything in between—they bring whimsy and joy to the space. Two of the tiny homes are occupied almost every year. My favorite hangs just above the hose bib. Every time I turn on the water to sprinkle the garden, I try to sneak a peek inside. That’s where the connection lies. Before the eggs are laid, even as the male and female gather material for their nest, the flying parents-to-be perform their gallant show of courage. They dive-bomb me as I hand-water any plants or flowers near their future…

THIS MORNING I NESTLED IN bed, too ill to attend Sunday worship. But I booted up my laptop, grateful that our church live-streams its services. Halfway into a worship song, the feed froze. I clicked a few buttons, and the service resumed playing, but soon froze again with a “buffering” message. Eventually, the connection couldn’t be rebooted at all. Many of us encounter the frustration of glitches when we use technology. A link that dissolves into static reminds me of the difficulty I sometimes have tuning in to get a clear connection with Jesus. He is truly beyond our understanding, so the image of Jesus can be unclear. He may lead us in directions that feel overwhelming—such as calling us to love our enemies. Or, perhaps, we find Jesus’s timing…

I HAVE A ROW OF books that I call the Books That Changed My Life. It includes the first book I learned to read (Ann Likes Red), the book that made me fall in love with reading (A Little Princess), and the book that inspired me to want to be a writer (The Diary of Anne Frank). I’ve set apart poetry, memoirs, Christian classics, and novels that ministered to me through grief, inspired me as a writer, and took me to a deeper place with Jesus. For a short time, I included a book that brought back painful memories, until Jesus healed that wound and I decided it was time to put it on another shelf. So, why didn’t I have a Bible with the Books That Changed My Life?…

I LOVE BEING NEAR WATER. Whether I’m at the coast, a creek, or a lakeside, it settles me. But my favorite place is along the banks of the river running through my town. The Willamette is wide, with beautiful old trees and countless birds calling it home. As I watch this river, I sense Jesus’s peace and power while the massive flow moves past with barely a ripple. Picking up stones to toss in, I feel my transformation as He smooths away my rough edges. When I spot fish struggling upstream, I understand the challenges they face. Jesus teaches me to push forward, to never give up. Yesterday evening, I walked the bank. The heat of the day was gone, replaced by a coolness hinting at autumn’s glory. A gentle…

I DID A LOT OF praying and research before we moved to Florida. Based on a few key criteria, we focused on a particular area where there seemed to be more jobs and services for my special-needs son. We had some misgivings about the housing costs and the local culture’s fit for our family, but since my husband had been offered a job, we pushed through them. Then, when we couldn’t sell our house and the job offer expired, we suspended our move indefinitely, content to stay put. Time passed and eventually we started to think about moving again. This time, we decided to take a mission vacation to explore the state. We visited five areas, including our original destination. It was immediately obvious we wanted to be someplace else…

ONE OF MY FAVORITE PRAYER practices is hiking. Well, I call it hiking, but what it really is is just walking in nature. After a walk, I feel much more connected. God’s ways seem much clearer to me. This is particularly true if the hike is on uneven and changing terrain. Spending a morning or an afternoon concentrating on where to place my feet, one step after another, does something to my brain. Letting the soles of my feet find their way securely over rocks, tree roots, fallen leaves, mud, and moss takes a certain level of concentration that I just don’t use in my urban daily life. The level of concentration needed increases as I get older, even as the paths I choose are less strenuous. And because what…

I’M GENERALLY CHEERFUL AND DON’T get cranky very often. When I do, it’s usually because I’m hungry. I get impatient and snippy at loved ones over the simplest things. All I know is when my stomach is growling, I growl with it. And I will eat just about anything that’s edible. Most of the time, I reach for potato chips. (I guess that’s why experts warn to never go food shopping when you’re hungry.) Jesus was human, too, and knew exactly how uncomfortable hunger could be. That’s why He felt compassion for the crowd that followed Him into the hills to hear Him preach (Matthew 14:14). They’d been with Him all day and were hungry—all five thousand of them! When the disciples thought He should just send them on their…

MY GRANDDAUGHTER LILAH WAS A good eater for the first couple of years. But after turning two, she became more finicky. Sometimes she rejected foods, saying, “Oooo, gwoss” or “S’gusting” in imitation of her older siblings. One evening my daughter, Holly, prepared pork chops, roasted baby potatoes, and steamed broccoli. She glanced up when she heard Lilah declare, “Yum, delishush!” Holly smiled, feeling appreciated. Then my son-in-law informed her that Lilah had just eaten a big forkful of ketchup. Wouldn’t it be nice if everyone showed appreciation for everything we do for them? Unfortunately, our work at home, on the job, at church, and in the community isn’t always acknowledged or valued. There’s no guarantee that we’ll receive even a simple thank-you for our efforts, regardless of how we knock…

SOMETIMES, I WONDER WHY GOD places certain, unique individuals in my life. One such woman I know has no verbal filter. She says whatever comes to mind regardless of its impact on others. She and I used to attend the same church and occasionally spent time together. One day, she and I went clothes shopping together. Things went surprisingly well until we paid for our purchases. As we left the store, she looked at me and said, “You’re overweight. Shed twenty or thirty pounds, and then I’ll go shopping with you again.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. For several years, I allowed her words to offend me. I wrestled with hurt and anger. I even held make-believe conversations with her in my head. I defended myself with…

MY TWO SONS ARE ELEVEN-and-a-half years apart, so I had an energetic preschooler and a moody teenager at the same time. Both are tall and lanky, extremely smart, have beautiful, big, brown eyes, and inherited my quick sense of humor—that’s where the similarities end. They may have come from the same parents, but they couldn’t be more opposite. Christian, my oldest, has a mass of tight curls and a gentle, quiet spirit. He grew up watching me sing at church but had no desire to be in the spotlight. Instead, he worked in the sound booth and became an amazing cook. He now works in an art museum that’s as peaceful as he is. Nathan didn’t even have curls as a baby. What he did have was a lot to…

THE APPLES ON THE TREES lining our south yard were small. Even from a distance, my husband, Bill, and I could see that many on the middle tree were worm-eaten or scar-skinned, unlikely to produce food for those of us who care about fresh fruit and applesauce. We looked at each other and asked, “What should we do?” Three groups of people asked the same question of Jesus when He taught about the importance of producing good fruit—fruit that shows changed hearts and lives. Jesus told them that if a tree doesn’t produce good fruit, it would be chopped down and tossed into the fire. It wasn’t an outrageous pronouncement. That’s what my husband seriously considered doing with our row of unproductive apple trees. The people listening to Jesus asked,…

MANY YEARS AGO, I HAD a surprise visit from two of the dads in our subdivision. They informed me that my older teenage son, Eric, and his friend had engaged in filthy, offensive talk on the school bus in front of their younger sons. When they said it had happened the previous afternoon, I told them that Eric hadn’t ridden the bus then because of track practice. Then they said it occurred on the morning ride. I knew this did not sound like my son, but I called the moms of the “bullied” kids. They were shocked at my questions and said that the other student was the one who had talked inappropriately on the afternoon bus ride. One mom told me that yes, her sons had been picked on—but…

THIS YEAR FOR PROFESSIONAL DEVELOPMENT, we teachers got to hear a speaker named Manny Scott. He is one of the original Freedom Writers from the movie by that name. It stars Hilary Swank as the teacher who helped a class full of disadvantaged students change their lives through writing. Manny shared a lot of ideas and techniques for how we might reach students and help them succeed. His emphasis was on the least of these—students from marginalized communities. He seemed to understand the desperation we teachers feel sometimes. There are times these children seem unreachable. He said, “I know a lot of you are thinking, Manny, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.” Yep. That’s exactly what I was thinking. “And that’s true. You…

I’M A BIG FAN OF quiet hotel rooms when I travel. There’s no place like home—Where have I heard that before?—but I do enjoy a clean, serene hotel room. It always seems to have better pillows than mine at home. Midevening, during a recent hotel stay, an ear-piercing chirp startled me. The smoke detector. I checked the room for smoke and sniffed near the door to the hallway but couldn’t find the source. The chirping proved to be the result of a rebellious detector. A maintenance man came to my aid. I suggested that the battery needed to be replaced. But when the maintenance crew member removed the cover, he discovered it was hard-wired. No battery. He pushed the reset button. Quiet returned. Anticipating an early start the next day,…

TOPS AND JACKETS OF VARIOUS colors and designs hang in my clothes closet. Some I rarely wear and should probably give away or take to a thrift store. But the denim jacket I bought at a secondhand store is among my closet favorites. I can wear it with anything—a casual dress, a turtleneck sweater, or a summer blouse—and it looks nice. I recently forgot that jacket at a beauty salon after having my hair cut. I didn’t miss it for several days because the weather was warm. But by week’s end, the temperatures dropped. My heart sank when I went to fetch it from its usual place but discovered it missing. I searched other closets and my car. I mentally retraced my steps. And I prayed, “Jesus, You know where…

MY HUSBAND, DAVID, AND I are very close with an older couple in town. What started out years ago as yard work has developed into an intimate friendship, close as family. With our parents gone, I think Jesus sensed a void in our lives that needed filling. Walking their dog, watering plants, and getting together for meals has provided precious times for all of us. Physical limitations keep them from visiting our house. Our home’s entry involves a staircase, which our “adopted mom” can’t maneuver. Instead, we spend hours on the phone, baring or sharing our hearts. Sometimes, conversations mimic the gripes of teenage girls; other days, the talk takes on the characteristics of a mother-daughter heart-to-heart. Either way, I’m blessed. We both are. I bake a lot, so I’ll…

I COULD TELL FROM HIS tone that the cashier was annoyed when I set my basket in the wrong place. I apologized and moved it. When I leaned in close to read the buttons on the debit card machine, I felt him staring at me. “It bugs me when people do that to you,” my friend Julie said on the way out. “I saw a woman give you a dirty look when you accidently cut in front of her to check a price. I wanted to say, ‘Can’t you tell that my friend is struggling to see?’” “Welcome to the world of the visually impaired,” I said to Julie. At first glance, people have no idea that I can’t see well. I’ve been mistaken for aloof, unintelligent, and rude. Even…

OVER MY CHRISTIAN LIFETIME, I’VE had two life verses—Bible passages I believe Jesus gave me as rudders for my spiritual journey. The first one, Proverbs 3:5–6, which tells me to “trust in the LORD” and “lean not on [my] own understanding,” has guided me for a long time. An intellectual at my core, this verse reminds me there is Someone far wiser than I. Then, when I discovered that becoming a Christian was not going to make me or my life perfect, I found the words of Romans 8:28 most comforting. Becoming a Christian didn’t erase the effects of a difficult childhood either. Raised as I was in a family marred by addiction, mental illness, poverty, and isolation, Romans 8:28 has proven abundantly true. Over time, I’ve seen God use…

“ARE YOU READY?” MY HUSBAND, Gene, asked. His folks had invited us to their home along with the rest of the immediate family, and the time had come to head their direction. “Ready,” I replied. Ready to make a good impression, that is. I’d married into the family four years prior and had always felt inferior to my mother-in-law and four sisters-in-law. They held university degrees, but I held only a Bible college diploma. They had pursued careers, but I was only a stay-at-home mom. They exuded confidence, but I wrestled with insecurity. I wanted to prove myself to them, so I’d offered to bring a homemade treat to the gathering—cinnamon buns baked in an angel food tin. Monkey bread, some folks call it. The moment I stepped outside with…