Innehållsförteckning för July/August 2020 från Mornings with Jesus

RECENTLY I WAS LISTENING to the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well, and I was surprised to hear in it a message about prayer, something I’d never considered before. As you will remember, Jesus is passing through Samaria. Tired from His journey, He stops at Jacob’s well. A Samaritan woman comes to draw water, and He asks for some. She is shocked that a seemingly upright Jewish man, like Him, would ask for water from her. Jews and Samaritans didn’t generally associate with one another. They have an intriguing conversation—illuminating for her—about the living water that He offers to all His followers, something far greater than what can be found in the well. “Give me this water,” she says, “so that I will never be thirsty.”…

THIS MORNING AT 2:00 A.M. my husband and daughter climbed into the rented moving truck and set out for Nashville. My girl is moving across the country for a job with a company she loves. I’m thrilled for her opportunity and her courage. But here’s the thing. She’s our youngest of four, and the one who still lived in town. She would come over each week to do laundry, have a meal, and watch a cooking show with us (which we’d always save for her). On holidays when none of the other children could make it home, she was the gentle and constant presence that we appreciated so much. So, while I’m happy for her, I’m also grieving. To cheer me, my husband reminded me that after a writer’s conference…

I’D JUST ACCEPTED A NEW research project and needed a millennial perspective, so I texted my daughter to ask her what FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) meant to her. FOMO is all over social media these days. “It’s when you see your friends’ posts of weddings, a new baby, a new job, or exotic vacations, and you feel depressed or left out,” my daughter wrote back. One article I read described the FOMO mind-set as “social envy” or “social anxiety.” But when I thought about it more, I realized that people have always struggled with feeling left out—long before social media ever existed or the term FOMO was coined. The Bible says it’s not wise to compare ourselves to others (Galatians 6:4), but we do it anyway. We feel envious…

MY FATHER WAS A GIFTED talker who relished sharing life lessons and telling jokes. At family or social events, a crowd of attentive listeners would gather at his feet. He wasn’t a writer, but he could weave oratorical yarns that would make you laugh out loud. One day I visited my father in his new home with shiny new appliances and a new car in the driveway, and he made it clear that he had no inheritance for me. “Before I leave here,” he said, slapping a stack of bills against his marble table, “I intend to spend every dollar I ever made.” This was my father talking, the jokester, so I assumed he was kidding. After all, by the time he took ill, Daddy was a God-fearing Bible-thumper who…

GROWING UP IN A CHILDREN’S home and foster care left me with bad memories. For years I was haunted by nightmares about abusive caregivers. One night after a bad nightmare, I couldn’t go back to sleep. Jesus, please give me peace, I prayed as I slid closer to my husband who was sleeping soundly. They can’t hurt you anymore, I thought. But they were hurting me. I was still angry and bitter. I walked to the living room as thoughts drifted back to my childhood. Overwhelming anger washed over me. The reality of the past was worse than the nightmares. Trying to shift my focus, I thanked Jesus for blessing me with a wonderful husband, precious children, grandchildren, many friends, and my church. Still no peace. I tuned the television…

THIS SPRING, I MADE A new friend, Steven Batchelor, at one of my workshops. After class he told me about his ongoing fight with cancer and went on to mention a book he’d written called Don’t Miss Love. Sadly he passed away shortly thereafter. As I read his book, I was struck by its theme—spreading Jesus’s love any way we can with everyone we encounter. Steven’s determination to use every single one of his God-given talents to glorify Christ touched me deeply. I spent some time thinking about this quiet, gentle man of God, now resting in Jesus’s peace. Steven left behind a legacy of caring and a life well-lived. Beyond his family, he bestowed blessings on his readers, so we may live out the life he suggested. My mind…

JUDY HAD NOT SPOKEN TO her sister in thirty years. One night as she added the usual “Bless Mary Beth” to her prayers, she sensed a clear message: That’s not good enough. You need to go ask her for forgiveness. Judy felt shocked. “Ask her for forgiveness?” But she flew out to visit Mary Beth, who was in poor health. When Mary Beth said she didn’t feel like she could be forgiven for the life she’d led, Judy shared the love of Jesus and then mailed her a Bible. Two months later, Mary Beth was found dead. Nearby the Bible lay, open to a psalm. As Judy shared her story in Bible study, a thought nagged Gayle: I’ve made a mistake. Gayle and her own sister had not communicated much…

IT’S THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER, and last week the weather forecast called for rain for ten days. Invitations to summer fun fell like dominoes, parties canceled, outdoor activities postponed. And then—you guessed it—it turned out that the forecast was gloomier than the reality. On most days, rain has been brief or hasn’t come at all. This morning—at the dawn of the weekend of so many canceled events—the sun is bright, the birds chirping. We’re told that forewarned is forearmed, and there’s wisdom in that. But I’m thinking about how Jesus came to preach good news—the kind of news that is radically different from what people expect from the world. That’s the forecast I want to hear and follow! Technology seems to be “enhancing” our lives by increasing the amount of…

MY THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SON, PIERCE, IS a natural athlete. As his bookish mom I’ve had a lot to learn. Initially going to practices and games was purely a labor of love, though I enjoyed watching my son enjoy himself. Over time, I’ve come to appreciate sports much more, and I have a newfound respect for the deeper values sports teach, including the power of positive encouragement. Perhaps nowhere is this more evident than in baseball. The batter swings and misses, the crowd screams, “Good cut.” A play is a disaster of errors. Parents holler, “Shake it off!” The batter hits a foul ball. Viewers shout, “Good contact!” praising the fact that the bat hit the ball at all. This isn’t always the case, but many coaches, parents, and fans find a…

I SYMPATHIZE WITH THE DISCIPLES. God’s commandments felt overwhelming, and they wanted encouragement. Perhaps a pat on the back and “At least you’re trying your best.” Instead, Jesus said disruptive things like “It’s worse than you thought. To meet God’s standards, it’s not enough to avoid killing a man, you can’t even call him a fool (Matthew 5:22). Even the rich and powerful can’t find an easy entry into the kingdom of God (Matthew 19:24).” Was Jesus making salvation seem impossible? In a way, yes. At the end of the day, I’m tempted to calculate my virtue, decide I’ve done a bit more good than bad, and congratulate myself for achieving a bit of “righteousness.” We humans are prone to rely on ourselves, believing we can solve our own problems.…

WHEN I WAS FOUR YEARS old, I traveled with my church to a youth convention in Texas. We lodged at a Dallas motel with a pool. I was the “baby” in our group. The remaining youth were college students. While my mother read a novel in our motel room, the college kids promised to watch me at the pool. They assured my mother, “We will take care of Alice.” My three attendants splashed in the shallow water. They were not swimmers and neither was I. When no one was looking, I raced up the diving board ladder above the ten-foot-deep section of the pool. I yelled, “Look at me!” The Bible warns, “Folly is bound up in the heart of a child” (Proverbs 22:15, NIV). No lifeguard was on duty…

PREPARING TO MOVE ABOARD A sailboat meant purging nearly all our earthly belongings. The only other option was to rent a storage unit nearby, but that seemed like unwise stewardship. “It’s cheaper to replace those belongings when we return to shore than to pay storage fees for several years,” Gene assured me. I sorted through closets, cupboards, and drawers. I donated and sold clothing, appliances, books, home décor, and furniture. Parting with my possessions came more easily than I’d expected with the exception of two items—our mattress and my favorite leather love seat. The mattress was less than three years old and one of the best purchases we’d ever made. Its firmness helped me sleep well every night. The love seat was my sacred space—it’s where I enjoyed my quiet…

OUR MARINA IS AN ENVIRONMENT unlike anything I’ve ever known. My former neighborhoods had families with young children and people who shared my beliefs and values. But it’s different here. About fifteen permanent residents live along our dock. Only three are women, myself included. One says, “You have to be slightly eccentric to live here.” All but one of the male residents is single, and alcohol and marijuana play a significant role in their lives. More men and a few women live nearby on boats and vessels undergoing repairs onshore. I’ve yet to find another Jesus follower in this mix. Gene and I believe God placed us here to reflect His light in the darkness. In an effort to build relationships, we stroll the docks to meet other residents and…

AUGUST IN FLORIDA. SIGH. UNLESS you live on the equator, you haven’t felt heat like this until you’ve been here in summertime. I grew up in suburban Baltimore and saw my share of hot summers, but this is altogether different. The humidity is like being in a hot-dog steamer. I was born in southern California and spent many childhood summers in coastal Italy with family, so I’m a warm weather, sun-loving girl. But even I sometimes start to groan when I step out into the hot and heavy Florida heat. Then come fall and winter. No kaleidoscope of leaves, but weather so perfect you can’t imagine. Brisk mornings and evenings. Beach-worthy days. Relentless sunshine. By January though, the cold days linger. There are a few gray days, and I’m indignant,…

TODAY I AM GOING TO meet my sister, Jenny, for coffee and a pedicure. We have lived within thirty miles of each other for the past fourteen years. In three weeks . . . she and her family will be moving to Colorado. I have known the day of Jenny’s departure is coming. I have been crying a lot. This is the unraveling of my heart, the loosening of the bond that ties me to Jenny. When they drive away, I want to send her off to her new adventure with joy, shouting, “Go with God!” instead of “Stay with me!” My sorrow comes from knowing we will never be the same. We have shared the goodness of our closeness. That part of our relationship is ending. I will miss…

FOR A YOUNG WOMAN WHO “woke up to Jesus” in my mid- to late-twenties, these words were among the first that really jumped out at me when I started reading the Bible. In my case one thing was clear: following Jesus meant waking up—the opposite of putting your head down. Jesus was giving me the ability to be aware as I went through every life experience, but this meant I could no longer dodge difficult truths by being in denial or avoid confrontation by going along with something that I knew in my heart was not right. Today, many years after I first woke up, I hear something else too. I’m getting ready for a road trip visiting friends, as I make my way through beautiful New England. The images…

THIS PAST WEEKEND I VISITED a town in northwest Arkansas where one of my best friends lives. She invited my girls and me to join her at her house on Beaver Lake, where we rode on her boat, swam, and relaxed. As we always do, we reminisced about the years I lived down the street from her, when we first became friends. I asked about people I’d known in those days and she gave me updates on their lives—how they’re doing, if they have kids, still have the same jobs, etc. Driving home, I thought about them all, which led me to think about other people I’ve known who aren’t a part of my life anymore. This is a relief with a few people, but mostly it makes me feel…

BY THE TIME I DUG my phone out of my purse, I’d missed a call from my sister-in-law, Julie. We rarely talk on the phone, so my imagination kicked in and my mind raced. Was my eighty-eight-year-old mom okay? It must be something really bad—because if Julie’s calling, that means my brother is too upset to call. Should I abandon my grocery cart and get ready for the long drive to Tennessee? What about my daughter and grandkids flying in for a visit? Unable to reach Julie, I called my brother. Relief filled me as Phillip answered in a normal voice and said the call must’ve been an accident, since Julie was at work. I explained what I’d been thinking; Phillip assured me he understood. The next day he confirmed…

“HEIDI! HEIDI!” I YELLED, STANDING at the edge of the woods. Heidi, one of our four dogs, was lost. I had already looked for her down by the pond and all around our yard. Please help me find her, I asked Jesus. I had driven around the neighborhood hoping to see her. Some neighborhood kids offered to help look. Heidi is going to be in trouble when I find her. That crazy dog. I had looked every place I could think of. Jesus, please help me find her and don’t let her be hurt. Then I thought, What if she is hurt? What if we never see her again? As these panicky thoughts filled my mind, I started crying and headed to my neighbor’s backyard because sometimes our dogs played…

REVEREND WILLIS VISITED THE NEIGHBORHOOD gym every day. We spoke to each other when I found myself walking next to him on the treadmill. He was a blind preacher whose wife drove him to and from the gym. Besides that, I knew nothing about his life. One morning I walked into the fitness room to find Reverend Willis walking on his favorite treadmill and listening to music piped in over the gym speakers. The Lord spoke to me and moved me to inquire about his transportation for the day. The blind preacher replied that his wife’s car was in the shop. The Lord then moved me to offer him a ride home. I obeyed the Spirit and immediately Reverend Willis stopped the treadmill to clap his hands with delight. He…

LIKE PORTS WORLDWIDE, TAMPA BAY has a carefully charted narrow shipping channel—the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association (NOAA) chartbook leaves no guesswork for a boater, whether a day sailor or a freighter captain. My husband once went sailing on the Chesapeake Bay with a friend, running aground in shallows, only to be towed off the sandbar hours later by the coast guard. In 1980, a ship drifted off course in a blinding storm and plowed into the Tampa Bay’s Sunshine Skyway Bridge; thirty-five people died. Drifting is dangerous. Sometimes fatal. The perils are detailed and documented. Go outside the lines and you may get stuck on a sandbar, or worse. Even as a Christian, I admit I’ve caught myself drifting outside Christ’s channel, sometimes even openly defying God’s chartbook, the…

THIS SUMMER I VACATIONED WITH my family to South Dakota’s Black Hills and the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. We drove our RV and ended up having a great time, but the first few days were rough for me. I struggled to stay in the moment and appreciate what I had because I felt overwhelmed by what—who—was missing. Our oldest had chosen a really neat opportunity that was offered to her for the summer and therefore wasn’t with us. It was the first time we’d ever been on vacation without one of our kids. It stank. To make matters worse, the other three weren’t getting along. They all wanted to look at screens instead of scenery, and when they weren’t looking at screens, they were fighting. The balance of different personalities…

MY GRANDKIDS WERE THRILLED ABOUT the big Fourth of July celebration in their new town. They wore patriotic clothes and bought red, white, and blue “glow” glasses and light-up sticks. My three-year-old granddaughter, Lilah, enjoyed dancing to the music of the live band. Finally the sky grew dark; the big moment had arrived. The first screeching rocket burst into bright colors with a loud boom. I glanced at Lilah to see her reaction. Her beaming smile had been replaced by a grimace and she had both hands over her ears. I had to put my ear next to her mouth to hear her cries, “It’s too loud! It’s too loud!” This is bad! I thought. The car’s so far away, and it would take forever to maneuver through this crowd.…

“MOM, SHOULD I TAKE THIS robe?” My about-to-be-a-teenager daughter is holding out her pink fleece robe as we pack for sleepaway camp. It comforts me to imagine her snuggled in the soft robe during a cold night when she is far from home. I want to wrap my arms around her and say, “Every time you feel like you need me, put on this robe, and I’ll be hugging you tight!” But I know she would shrug me off. These days she wants a hug from me only sometimes and on her terms. This tug between letting our children go off to live their lives and pulling them in tight to hold on to them is as old as the human heart. My Old Testament hero, Hannah, lived that tension…

MOUTHS PARCHED, STUMBLING FROM HEAT and exhaustion, both kings floundered in the wilderness with their armies. What started as a bold campaign to reclaim Moab’s tax now looked grim. Because of their roundabout route, the kings ran into a problem: no water. The reaction of the two leaders caught my attention. The king of Israel accused God. They’d both made decisions that led them here, but now that the situation grew difficult, he blamed God. Sadly, I can relate to that impulse. Moving ahead with a choice, I often encounter unexpected problems. If I’m fearful, like Israel’s king, I may begin to doubt the goodness of the Lord. The lie says that since He’s all powerful, then maybe He’s out to get me. When I catch myself flailing against Christ…

PHOTOS ARE PRECIOUS, BUT SOCIAL media has distorted the time-honored tradition of memory making for me. At some point I started to feel as if I were staging my life rather than living it. Getting the family to all look at the camera for a few vacation pictures felt like a professional photo shoot. Relocating our fun a few feet to the left. Or having the kids strike a once-spontaneous pose for the fourth time. Or actually interrupting a magical moment to make sure I caught it with my smartphone. Ick. Let’s not even talk about posting or answering comments. It had to stop. Most of our family, including our older kids, live a distance away, so social media does help us keep in touch, but I want to be…

ONE AFTERNOON, MY HUSBAND ATTACHED our new license plates to the backs of our vehicles. I joked about ordering a custom plate containing some profound words for the front end of my car. “Well, I’ll probably put Live, Love, Laugh on mine,” he said. Richard was being sarcastic. For some reason, he dislikes plaques and home décor objects with words on them (although he waited forty years to tell me). He especially makes fun of the popular quote “Live well, laugh often, love much,” which is on everything from coasters to pillows and doormats. When we visited our daughter’s house and found that quote hanging on her living room wall, the whole family teased Richard about wanting to buy one just like it. The first two words of that adage…

ALONG WITH JAMES AND JOHN, Peter received a special revelation. Jesus briefly revealed His glory to these three disciples on a mountaintop, His clothing and face glowed with a supernatural brightness. Suddenly the two greatest Old Testament prophets appeared and talked with Jesus. Peter may have been thinking about the Feast of Tabernacles when he offered to put up three shelters for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. But before Peter finished speaking, God interrupted him with praise for His Son and instructions to listen to Him. I often feel a kinship with Peter, and sometimes forget that a big part of prayer is listening. Sometimes I pray while I’m driving, walking, or doing household chores. Other times I enjoy a dedicated time of quiet, concentrated prayer. Even then I often focus…

A BOUT WITH PNEUMONIA—MIDSUMMER, OF all things—sapped my strength. I’d had such plans. The weather was beautiful. I couldn’t get off the couch. I had meaningful, soul-refreshing work to do. It waited, untouched. I had to cancel a speaking engagement. Even after I started to feel better, pneumonia’s “tailings,” its lingering aftereffects, reminded me that strength is nothing to . . . pardon the pun . . . sneeze at. The day I swept the kitchen floor felt like a major victory in the healing process. One day earlier, I wouldn’t have had the strength. The Bible tells us that the gospel of Jesus Christ—the good news of who He is and of the forgiveness and eternal life He offers us—is strength-building. He doesn’t just save our souls. He infuses…

MY HUSBAND AND I TOOK our granddaughter to a local museum. They were hosting a special “girls in science” day with many hands-on activities. Instead of viewing paintings and sculptures from a distance or displays of taxidermy animals and pottery shards under glass, she got to explore rooms featuring math, weather, and medicine. She created a lava lamp with oil and food coloring. She painted a coffee filter and watched the colors spread while learning about chromatography. In the weather area, she watched a machine create a tornado and reached in to touch it. In the medical science exhibit, she performed an ablation surgery on a pig’s heart. Watching her play and learn, I thought about how much we absorb through tangible interaction, and the verse from the Psalms came…

I USED TO DISQUALIFY MYSELF from ministry or job opportunities because of my weaknesses that seemed too glaring, too great. Yes, I disqualified myself. Even when an opportunity came to me or I was assured of my suitability. I’d tell myself that I wasn’t (fill in the blank) enough to do a particular task, or face a particular challenge. My own perception of my weakness prevented me from doing something I might have even really wanted to do. But I eventually learned that believing in my own weakness was a self-fulfilling prophecy. Truly by the grace of God, I now know better. Christ’s grace is truly sufficient. His unfathomable power is truly perfected in my weakness. As I decrease, He increases (John 3:30). Apart from Him, I can do nothing…

IN ONE MORE MONTH, I will be at a new school. I will have to learn new names and new surroundings and face new challenges. It’s an opportunity for me to start over with a new attitude to help affect positive change. A part of me is anxious because of all the newness and the unknown. For years I used to suffer frightening anxiety attacks. As I grow in my relationship with Christ, I use the promising words of Jesus in this Scripture to soothe my nerves. As I approach this new school year, I am confessing that it will be the best year I have ever experienced in my career. I am thanking the Lord for the opportunity and for the ability to do the job with excellence. As…

MOVING ONTO A SAILBOAT HAD many ramifications. Besides having us purge our possessions and planting us in a new environment, it meant no longer having space to host all our kids and grandchildren overnight. Family time brings me great joy, so that reality grieved me. Knowing this transition would have an impact on our family, we brought our kids into the conversation within days of sensing God say, Now. We assured them that we valued their opinions, and asked them to pray as we continued to seek the Lord’s direction. Our kids understood that Christmas and Thanksgiving at Mom and Dad’s would no longer happen, but they supported us anyway. I suspect that’s because, from their childhood, we’d taught them that loving and obeying Jesus is of utmost importance. Obedience…

SOON AFTER MOVING ABOARD, WE set aside a Saturday to sail with friends and family. The weathermen predicted strong winds—the kind on which experienced sailors thrive. As we motored down the Fraser River, we ran into howling winds. I felt queasy. Two guests became seasick, but there was no turning back—it was too late to go against the tide. Our only option was to keep going until the tide changed direction in about six hours. I couldn’t wait for the tidal change, but not everyone agreed. This was Gene and our-son-law’s idea of a perfect day. What was the difference between them and the rest of us? They understood sailing and how to capture the wind for our advantage. We imagined the worst and hung on for dear life. Their…

I LOVE LIGHTHOUSES! WHENEVER I go on vacation and there is a lighthouse nearby, I try my best to find it. Last summer, I was excited to finally get a chance to take a tour inside a lighthouse in Biloxi, Mississippi. The lighthouse was a magnificent white towering presence in the center of town. After climbing the long, spiral staircase to the small opening at the top of the lighthouse where the beacon is located, I was rewarded with the most amazing view of the ocean and the town. My joy and excitement were almost uncontainable. According to Britannica.com, a lighthouse’s purpose is to aid in navigation, warn of hazards, and guide maritime vessels to their destinations using various shapes or colors with lights and patterns of radio signals. As…

MY DADDY FATHERED AN ILLEGITIMATE child. This betrayal is one of many things that led to my parents’ divorce. Sound crushing? It was. To make matters worse, as my baby brother grew up, doctors discovered he had a learning disability. My father enrolled my brother in special classes to support his academic development. And at my father’s request, my brother would visit with my mother, who was a successful reading teacher. During his visits, she helped Junior complete school projects that eluded my father’s impatience. To watch my mother embrace my little brother with such tenderness and care was a demonstration in love’s ability to redeem a soul and set it free. Because my mother forgave my father his transgressions, he was free to seek her help for his young…

MY HUSBAND AND I STOLE away for a weekend at the coast. Along the way, we stopped at a picnic area above the Columbia River. Below was an island, a teardrop of forested land, punctuated with meadows and small structures. I was intrigued. On a whim, we detoured, taking a ferry along the river to the island’s shore. Driving across the land, sparsely settled with historic houses, I wondered about the rugged individuals who called this place home. How did they live in such isolation? When we passed an old church, its clapboard siding glowing in the sunlight, its lot crowded with vehicles, I wondered if I’d found my answer. Was this small community rooted in faith? Were the residents living out Jesus’s great commandments? My world isn’t as small…

I LOVE TO TRAVEL, BY myself or with my family. This summer, my husband and our two grown children took a twelve-hour overnight bus trip to reach a mountain tourist destination. After enjoying our time there, we left for another city, but this time we had to endure a grueling six-hour trip across zig-zagging roads. While my head was whirling with dizziness, a thought saddened me. I would love to see more places. But I may not be able to do that as I get older. I might not be able to endure long trips. I brushed away that negative thought and thanked Jesus instead for the many beautiful excursions I’ve experienced thus far. Three days after our trip, I was empowered and encouraged as I read a passage in…

DURING A RECENT WEEKEND TRIP to the coast, my husband and I stayed in a motel at a marina. Sailboats and fishing vessels lined up, cozy as eggs in a carton. We sat on our balcony that evening, talking. The next morning, I woke early. I tiptoed to the balcony so as not to wake my husband. As I watched the boats bobbing softly, black water lapping at their hulls, a sensation of deep peace poured over me. I was alone with Jesus. I didn’t have to be anywhere or do anything. I had time to enjoy His presence. I wasn’t in a room with the door shut, but I was by myself and centered on Him. Praying during sunrise, I felt satisfaction filling my heart, and I realized how…

WHO DOESN’T REMEMBER THE SCENE in the movie Jerry Maguire when the Tom Cruise character realizes that Renée Zellweger is in fact the love of his life? He bursts into a room full of bitter divorcées and declares to a teary Renée, “You complete me.” Last night, I watched a documentary about the relentless pursuit of extreme wealth. The excesses were at once pitiful and repellant: Women buying fifteen-thousand-dollar handbags in every color. Former Wall Street tycoons had crossed the line and now live in exile on the Most Wanted list. A common refrain from those profiled is that getting more only led to wanting more. I pursed my lips in judgmental disgust. But then I realized I’ve done the same. I still struggle to seek fulfillment in people and…

I LOVE LOOKING AT THE big, tall trees on the riverbank by the Mississippi River. I also appreciate their shade while I stroll on the bank, gazing at the muddy waters in the river. The roots of those trees go deep down in the river, which lets me know they have been there a long time. In my lifetime, there have been several floods that sent the river waters over the riverbank. The water completely covered the park area and the parking lot. Yet, after the water returned to the river, the trees on the riverbank were still standing tall. They have managed to thrive in other harsh conditions as well. Even in extreme heat, their leaves remain green. In Psalm 1:1–3, David compared the person who delights in the…

TWO YEARS AGO, MY HUSBAND bought me an adult tricycle. It’s blue and beautiful. I love it. That first year I rode until the weather turned. Last year, not strong enough to ride, I fought back and joined a gym. I rode a stationary bike, then followed up with weights. Months passed. Spring’s rains ended, replaced by sun-filled days rich with possibility. Still I avoided the trike. I lied to myself, “No time.” Busywork crowded my mind, sapping my energy and souring my perspective. How could I play when there was so much to do? The house should be cleaner. There was always something. Beautiful days flew by, I avoided the trike, and felt tired and discouraged. Then one day I saw a sign: Don’t Give Up Your Daydream. Not…

I GLANCED AT THE DOOR of the bank, eager to step inside so I could make a bank transaction before the end of the day. Then I saw a gray-haired man, wobbling and straining to reach for something firm to hold on to as he made his way unsteadily toward the bank. I rushed to the old man and extended my right hand. He beamed, pleasantly surprised by the gesture. Then he muttered, “This arthritis . . . it’s hard for me to move because of it.” As I held his wrinkled hand to support him, I felt his thick, hard palm and gnarled fingers. He explained how difficult it was for him to move around and even apologized for being elderly. He repeatedly thanked me, grateful for the sudden…

I’M ROUTINELY AMAZED AT HOW Jesus reveals Himself through real-life experiences, particularly when I include Him in the process. My son, Isaac, has Down syndrome, and loving him has blessed and grown me in unexpected ways. Isaac has inspired me to be a better person and face many fears. One recent example was advocating for Isaac in making changes to his IEP (Individualized Educational Program). My husband and I had a vision for Isaac, but even after doing extensive research, praying, and seeking expert counsel, I was full of doubt and fear. Was this plan best for Isaac? Could I make my case? What if I was wrong? Eventually I had to step out of the boat. I had to take the risk of trusting my gut, of pushing hard,…

WHENEVER I AM IN A multistory building, I take the stairs as much as I can. This week I am staying in a hotel to attend our church conference. Today while walking up the stairs to my hotel room, I breathlessly reached the top of the fourth floor where my room was, grabbed the card key out of my back pocket, and dropped it. But instead of just falling onto the top stair, the card literally slid to the bottom stair four flights below. With much aggravation, I walked back down the stairs to get the card, saying to myself, “Just when you reach the summit of achievement, something tries to bring you down.” Sometimes life is just like that. Several years ago, I had finally reached a point in…

EVERY SUMMER OUR CHURCH OPENS its doors to the community by hosting a VBS (Vacation Bible School.) This year, a group of older children stood at the back of the registration line. These rowdy kids had attended before, but now they were older and rowdier. One of the teachers whispered, “I thought we weren’t accepting kids over twelve.” The director responded, “All are welcome! Everyone needs Jesus.” So we smiled, prayed for the best, and signed them up. The older kids kept us on our toes that week. They weren’t bad kids, they just tested their limits. And ours. Every night, I prayed for Jesus to touch the children, but the night it was my turn to teach the older ones, I prayed for guidance. Lots of it. The next…

EIGHT MONTHS AGO, OUR FAMILY of five moved from a four-bedroom, two-bath rental home to a nine-hundred-square-foot, two-bedroom, one-bath rental home. It squeezed us in more ways than one. We lost a bathroom in the process, and bathrooms are important. There have been harsh words exchanged over who gets the bathroom first and discussions over how long a shower needs to be. (Both are followed by pounding on the bathroom door). We have struggled with the loss. Don’t we deserve two bathrooms? Really, we have more than we deserve. Over two billion people in the world don’t have basic sanitation. One bathroom is over-the-top living. This small home has been an eye-opener and a reminder of how easily we take for granted the extravagances of modern life. Not only has…

“THE HALIBUT, PLEASE.” I FOLDED the menu shut and smiled at the server. My husband and I sat at a small table at an outdoor café in Mexico. “I’m sorry, we’re out of halibut tonight.” The waiter glanced downward before handing the menu back to me. I blocked its return. “That’s okay. I’ll have the crab instead.” “We just served our last one, Señora.” “Okay . . . the tilapia?” “No more today. Sorry.” “What’s left?” At this point, the situation seemed laughable. He bowed his shoulders and shook his head, as if at a loss for words. “I have an idea. I’m in a rut, always wanting the same things. Ask the chef to surprise me. I’m sure I’ll like whatever he comes up with.” Straightening, he raced back…

MY FRIEND RECENTLY CLIMBED MOUNT St. Helens and reached the summit. She said, “It was a very challenging climb but truly rewarding.” Friends congratulated her for the feat, since she was in her fifties. She’d also climbed the peak in chilly, windy weather. “I had to push myself to reach the summit,” she said. With jubilation, she added, “Thank You, Lord, for giving me the determination to complete the climb!” I also know other people who love to hike in the mountains. Aside from getting good exercise and reaping its health benefits, being close to nature has a calming effect on one’s soul. Reaching the summit gives one the opportunity to experience an awesome view. But I also sense that being in an isolated place like the mountains makes us…

MY HUSBAND AND I RECENTLY explored Portland Island, a provincial park in the southern Gulf Islands off British Columbia’s coast. It features more than six miles of hiking trails. At the start of the trail system stands a map that shows optional destinations. Gene and I chose an hour-long walk to a sheltered cove on the opposite side of the island. The path led us through dense woods and intersected with other trails several times. We could easily have followed any of them and been misled. Thankfully the park caretakers had gone before us and posted little wooden signs with arrows and smaller maps. Where the forest thinned and allowed sunshine to warm the ground, the path disappeared into a meadow of soft grasses covered with delicate yellow flowers. Which…

JESUS OPENED MY EYES TO the importance of honoring my mother and father. As a teenager I was disrespectful toward my mother. When my parents were going through their divorce, I was experiencing my own lonely descent into low self-esteem and depression. I was hurting; consequently I lashed out at the person who was closest to me, my mother. I couldn’t empathize with her pain, and I didn’t think she cared about mine. Once I was saved, Jesus showed me how to honor my parents. Jesus respected His earthly parents even though He was their Savior. He followed their commandments and was accountable to them. Jesus didn’t say to honor your parents unless they hurt you, He simply said to honor them. Understanding that honoring my parents is meaningful to…

WHEN MY ELDEST DAUGHTER, STEPHANIE, was born with hydrocephalus—water on the brain—at a mission hospital in Nepal in 1985, she needed lifesaving surgery, but limited resources meant surgeons couldn’t perform the operation there. As a result, my husband returned to North America with her when she was three days old. Doctors said Stephanie would require ongoing care, so returning to Nepal was impossible. Stephanie grew up longing to visit her birthplace, so she and her husband saved enough money to fulfill her dream on her thirty-third birthday. They invited me and Gene to join them. Stephanie’s birthday dawned with breakfast at the mission hospital guesthouse. I was talking with a Nepalese woman working in the kitchen. Within seconds, she exclaimed, “I remember you! You left due to a medical emergency,…

IN 1997, MY HUSBAND AND I playfully discussed the possibility of living on a sailboat someday. That conversation turned serious in August 2017, when we both sensed Jesus say, Now’s the time to act. We knew this would be a significant transition. We asked Jesus to guard us from making decisions based on emotion and to lead us to the boat of His choice. We asked Him to go before us and open all the necessary doors to make this happen, and He answered. Every detail fell into place. Within six months, we’d joined the ranks of official “live aboards” in a Vancouver marina and faced more changes than I can mention here. For example, limited cupboard space means buying smaller quantities of food and going grocery shopping more often…

FIVE MONTHS AFTER WE MOVED into the marina, an eleven-month-old puppy belonging to one of our neighbors broke its leg. The neighbor, unemployed at the time, managed to take the dog to a vet. Surgery was necessary. “I don’t know what to do,” the neighbor said, sprinkling his conversation with expletives. “I don’t have the money.” He was in anguish; his dog was his sole companion, his best friend. Weeks prior, my husband and I had prayed for God to give us creative ways to help people in need. When the thought of hosting a GoFundMe campaign to raise money for the vet bills popped into my head, I knew He’d answered. Within three days of launching the campaign, donations exceeded the total needed and the puppy had surgery. Kindness…

MY GRANDDAUGHTER’S DOG KNOWS MY voice. And my name. All dog lovers will understand. I don’t see Sadie very often, but she “knows” that I’m family. If my daughter says, “Sadie, Grammie’s coming,” the dog will run to the door, sit, and wait for me. My daughter has learned not to say, “Grammie’s coming next Thursday.” Too long a wait for a dog. When Sadie sees me climbing the steps toward the house, she starts a wiggle pattern that won’t stop until long after I’ve greeted her, rubbed her belly, picked her up, and snuggled her like a baby. It was no flippant choice of wording Jesus used to answer the always oppositional Jewish leaders who surrounded Him in the temple, badgering Him to tell them once and for all…

I’M USUALLY LATE FOR THIS meeting but for once I’m early. Thank You, Jesus! I thought as I was driving. I pondered the route I should take. The bridge over the railroad tracks really terrifies me, so I’ll just go through town and cross the tracks. As I got closer to the train tracks, the traffic stopped. A train was blocking the intersection. It’s okay. I still have time. A few cars started turning around to go to the overpass. The train will move soon, I tried to reassure myself. It won’t be long. A few minutes passed, and more cars started turning around. Several people had gotten out of their cars. A truck driver walked past my car and said, “It’s going to be about thirty minutes, try the…

A FEW YEARS AGO, MY mother requested an iPad, so my siblings and I pitched in to buy her one. With the help of her computer-savvy grandson, she eagerly learned how to use it. My mother retired years ago, and has been out of school even longer, but she continues to learn new technology and use it to her advantage. She’s on Facebook every day—chatting with her children who live in different places, reconnecting with her childhood friends, watching sermons on YouTube, and learning life hacks from viral videos. I’m happy that my mother has not stopped learning, in spite of her age. At seventy-five years old, she uses social media to keep her mind busy and sharp. She still attends church small groups and prayer meetings. And like me,…

MY THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SON, PIERCE, PLAYS baseball (among other sports), and now this nonathlete, writer mom is enriching her writing with lots of handy sports metaphors. In baseball, the umpire is in charge. He’s the all-powerful referee. He starts and ends the game, enforces the rules, etc. Boy, talk about effective imagery! Colossians 3:15 is crystal clear and so practical, particularly in the Amplified Bible. Let Christ’s peace be the controlling factor in our decision-making. It’s a great feeling to make decisions with that deep sense of supernatural serenity. Yet sometimes prayerful, peace-filled decisions lead us to unexpected places that seem anything but peaceful. Think of Moses, Jonah, the virgin Mary, or just anybody who answered God’s call, “feeling” peaceful or not. I have made some decisions in life, full of…

WHENEVER I FEEL INADEQUATE OR feel I don’t have the ability to accomplish something, I remember a lady I once met when I applied for a job. She was the receptionist and her desk was located behind a wall with a sliding glass window. When I tapped on the window, she smiled and asked, “How may I help you?” I told her I was applying for a job, and then stood amazed as I got a better look at her. The sleeves of her blouse were sewn up at the shoulders because she had no arms. She slid open the window with her foot and gave me an application. She turned to me again and smiled. “Do you need anything else?” she asked. “Yes, ma’am, I forgot my pen.” She…

THE ROAD TWISTED THROUGH SWITCHBACKS, making its way up the mountain. My husband, daughter, and I were driving to a family reunion in Colorado. Cliffs loomed over the road. Signs warned of avalanches and rock slides. The terrain was beautiful but forbidding. Out of the harsh ground, pine trees stretched toward the sky. I marveled that they could cling to the steep slopes. At first, I pictured the trees desperately straining and grasping to hold on to their safe place. But then I changed my perspective and thought about the firm ground of the mountain securing the root system—and the towering pines—in place. If their roots weren’t being firmly held by the mountain, they would tumble and crash into the valley below. When Jesus tells us He is the vine,…

THE HALLWAY WAS PITCH-BLACK. I’D awakened in the middle of the night to the sound of my cats squabbling in the living room. Coming out of a deep sleep, I hadn’t been alert enough to flip the light switch as I raced past. Now I stood, disoriented and groggy, not sure how far I’d sleepwalked and if I was about to collide with furniture or trip on a pet. I reached for the walls, blind and uncertain. By now the caterwauling had stopped, so I couldn’t even rely on my sense of hearing. Frozen in place, I felt my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness surrounding me. First, I could distinguish picture frames hanging a few feet ahead and then the outline of the couch. As my vision turned from…

FOR YEARS, A LOCAL RADIO station conducted an all-day Bible trivia contest and invited teams and individuals to compete for prizes. Our church team fared well and worked hard to keep our competitive nature secondary to the fun and tidbits of Bible knowledge we learned in the process. The trivia contest changed with the arrival of high-speed internet. No longer were we poring over research books, maps, concordances, and Bibles. Within seconds, we could find the answer online and soon the contest was about who had the fastest internet rather than who knew God’s Word or how to dig for answers. Despite the fun we used to have on Trivia Contest Day, none of us would’ve wanted to trivialize the message of the Bible. When writing to the Jesus followers…

I REMEMBER A PARTICULAR WEEK when people close to me were either moving up, moving out, or moving on. My son was moving up to college. Our neighbors—a married couple with five girls—were moving out of their apartment. And a friend confided to me that she finally had closure with her ex-husband and was ready to move on. That week, I had mixed feelings because everyone was moving. I was sad, yet I was also glad. A college education was expensive, but it would give my son a better chance to qualify for work. It was sad to part ways with kind neighbors, but it gave both our families the opportunity to meet new friends. It was painful for my friend to let her ex-husband go, but this paved the…