Innehållsförteckning för July/August 2023 från Mornings with Jesus

I stare at the boxes of Christmas decorations waiting to be put away, the bare tree that will be taken from the house and thrown out back in our brush pile. It is the last day of 2022. It feels odd to be thinking about the beginning of a new year while writing about summer. Yet the schedule requires this circumstance in order for this magazine to be published on time. And so I am now looking forward, focusing on the beauty of summer—green grass, fully leafed trees, colorful flowers in bloom, days spent outside soaking up the glorious sun. Sitting on my patio and listening to the sounds of children playing, dogs barking, birds singing. At the beach—my favorite place—I will smell the salty air, feel the sand in…

ONE OF MY FAVOURITE THINGS is when I see my little children climbing onto my husband's lap or snuggling by his side. Even though my youngest kids are ten and eleven years old, they want to sit near him, especially during family movie night. They like being close to their dad because of the relationship that he's built with them. Years of providing for them, hugging them, and listening to them have created a special closeness. These moments are significant to me because I never had that type of relationship with an earthly father. Growing up, I didn't know my biological father and my stepdad was aloof and distant. Thankfully, I've discovered that I can draw close to my Heavenly Father. As I pray, I picture myself climbing onto His…

GOOD MORNING FROM THE BRONOX! Hello from Birmingham, Alabama! Praise Godfrom Houston! Greetings from Dubai! People from around the world dial in to my church's daily 7 a.m. prayer call. Monday through Friday, I hear familiar voices joyfully bidding each other good morning before the prayer leader mutes the phone line and starts with his or her own welcome and a short devotional before beginning our time in prayer. It's great to start my day in communal prayer with like-minded believers who know the power of coming together before the Lord. We pray for all sorts of things—healing for loved ones, courage to face the day, protection of our leaders, peace in our country, safety for our children, restoration of relationships, unwavering Faith, and more. The prayer leader will often…

I HAVE A JEWELRY ARMOIRE with a full-length mirrored front. It's made to hang on a wall, but it hasn't been mounted yet because there's always something more immediate on the to-do list. For now it sits on the closet floor. Recently, I found a solid-wood, full-length mirror at a neighborhood sale. Like the other one, it rests on the floor, waiting to be mounted in the hallway for my kids to use. There is nothing wrong with either mirror, but neither is positioned to best serve its purpose. Unless you're two feet tall, you can't see your full image without squatting, lunging, or other comical antics. Likewise, it's nearly impossible to see the truth of a situation without having a clear view of the whole picture. I may get…

I TURN THE RADIO ON when I'm working in the kitchen, mostly for company. I don't usually listen intently, but my ears perked up when I heard the question posed by a honey-voiced announcer: “Who have you disappointed today?” Being slightly compulsive, I made a list in my head. I didn't get to the grocery store, so I was out of my cats’ favorite food. Ditto milk for my husband, Jeff. I was late getting home, so the pest-control technician had to wait before he could spray my house. I didn't get a card in the mail for my sick friend. I forgot to take the chicken out to thaw, so dinner would be pizza, again. I ate two candy bars instead of one protein bar. I forgot to return…

OUR TEENAGE GRANDDAUGHTHER, GRACE, CLEANS our house to earn extra spending money. But when I correct her or show her how I want something done, she responds with grimaces and loud sighs. “Oh, all right,” she says. Although she complies, her reluctant attitude hurts me. I can't help but miss little three-year-old Grade, the younger version of my granddaughter who lives in my mind. When I asked that darling girl to pick up her toys or brush her teeth, she chirped, “Okay!” and ran off to obey. As I mused about these changes, Jesus showed me that Grace wasn't the only one who needed an attitude adjustment. How many times has His Spirit prompted me to change my plans and follow His lead? When He asked me to serve Him…

MY YOUNGEST DAUGHTER, RANDI, RECENTLY graduated from college and moved into her first apartment. As I sorted through the belongings she left behind, I found one of her favorite childhood books. During Randi's senior year of high school, she was invited to read The Kissing Hand to a kindergarten class. The story features a young raccoon who is afraid to leave his mom and go to school. The mama raccoon kisses the inside of his paw and suggests he press his paw to his cheek if he misses her. The thoughtful kindergarten teacher emailed a video of Randi as she read to the class. Once the book was finished, Randi confided to the students that she used to feel like the baby raccoon when she left her mom to go…

MY HUSBAND AND I HAVE enjoyed a growing friendship with a couple who live on a sailboat, like we do. When they leave the dock, they're usually gone for at least two weeks. Knowing from experience that boating can prove both pleasurable and miserable, we always send them off with well wishes: “Good luck! Take care. We hope everything goes well.” When Jesus ascended into heaven, He shared well wishes of a different sort with the disciples. He said nothing trite like, “Good luck. Take care. I hope everything goes well.” Instead, He blessed them with words that would fill their lives with purpose—to go and make disciples of all nations and baptize them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. He commissioned them to…

I ANSWERED MY PHONE THAT first day of Isaac's summer camp. My son's counselor told me that Isaac, who has Down syndrome, didn't want to join the group and was refusing to budge. Isaac went to the camp last year and liked it. Maybe he was being slow to warm up in the situation. I gave her some tips and hung up. Anxiety crept onto my shoulders. She called again, minutes later. Isaac still refused to move to the next activity at the park. She was going to give it a bit more time and get back to me. Anxiety erupted into full-blown worry, and questions crowded my mind. Was be miserable? Were the counselors exasperated with him? What if he was dismissed from the camp? Was this a mood…

I LAUGHED OUT LOUD FROM inside the public bathroom stall. Here's why: A sign affixed to the stall door read: “Don't flush paper towels, sanitary products, or your dreams down the toilet.” I felt validated and uplifted by finding important advice in a most unlikely place. The rest of the day, the unexpected words of encouragement swirled around in my mind. I mean, who hasn't, at one time or another, had a dream that not flushed down the toilet? I've had many dreams and made many plans to achieve them throughout my life. Some have come to fruition. Some have not. Sometimes circumstances beyond my control bring my dream to an anticlimactic halt, and the dream I envisioned dies. I abhor the heartbreak and disappointment of a dream not coming…

DURING LUNCH WITH SEVERAL LADIES, my friend Mischelle passed around a few books she'd finished reading. I flipped through a small gift book called The Red Sea Rules: 10 God-Given Strategies for Difficult Times by Robert Morgan and then put it back on the table. The last thing I needed was another item on my to-read list. But Mischelle urged me so sweetly to take it home that I finally dropped it into my bag. Little did I know how timely its message would be. Later that week, I read Rule #2: Be more concerned for God's glory than for your relief. The chapter focused on how God had led the Israelites to a point between the Red Sea and the Egyptian army for the purpose of displaying His glory.…

I WAS ALMOST DONE WITH a sewing project when I realized I had sewn an entire seam, and it didn't hold because the bobbin thread had run out. I stopped everything, rewound the bobbin with fresh thread, and began sewing again. It reminded me of when I first taught myself to sew. I called my sister in frustration. “What is a bobbin and is it really even necessary?” She laughed and explained that the thread from the bobbin loops with the thread from the main spool to secure the stitches in place. “You could sew without it, but the fabric wouldn't hold together. All of your stitches would unravel.” This is the image that comes to mind when I feel unraveled myself. It's like I'm going through all of the…

THIS MORNING WHEN I TURNED on the news, there was a hurricane approaching the East Coast, massive forest fires in California, earthquakes, shark attacks, and epidemics. I clicked off the television thinking the world had become like all the worst disaster movies rolled into one. Life can feel stormy sometimes. There are the big-picture waves affecting the world at large. As my viewing of the news showed me, those calamities can be frequent and troubling. There are rumbles of thunder for me too. I worry about my husband's cancer, my kids who are out of work, the progression of a loved one's Alzheimer's disease. My boat is tiny, and the waves are big. Lightning crackles and fear churns in my heart. Until I remember Jesus. The same Jesus who spoke…

I WAS RAISED TO BE exceptionally courteous in my interactions with others. My mother instilled the importance of saying “please” and “thank you,” thinking of others before myself, and performing simple gestures, like greeting people. It was a wonderful introduction to the importance of manners, and I expected everyone I'd meet to behave in the same way. I eventually learned that everyone did not. Over the years, I have developed a critical spirit when I don't sense benevolence in others. I can't name the number of times I have—loudly, I'm ashamed to admit—righteously corrected and shamed others when they, for example, rush through a door without holding it open for me or the people who were in front of me. My default tendency is to assume that their impolite behavior…

This is the first year I've ever planted a vegetable garden. It's been a season of high excitement watching tomatoes, cucumbers, beets, onions, bush beans, snap peas, herbs, watermelons, blueberries, and squash grow. It has taken everything a while. Let's be honest. I was ready for tomatoes the day after I planted the four-inch-tall plants. Now the swirling vines are four feet tall. Heavy with tomatoes, they topple over their cages. The snap peas haven't made it into the kitchen. I just pop them straight into my mouth after picking. The cucumbers hide under the broad leaves, so I can't find them. This morning, I found seven in our little game of veggie hide-and-seek. The sunlight and water from the dripline have done their magic. I can't wait to see…

RIGHT ON TIME, I CONGRATULATED myself as I pulled into the parking lot for my yoga class. As I left my car, an SUV wheeled in beside me. A distressed-looking woman called, “I'm lost! Can you help me?” I'd be late to class, but how could I not help her? She had an appointment with a new doctor and couldn't find her office. Luckily, I knew the location. I told her to get back on the road, go three blocks, and look for a white building on her left. She sped away. A person can be temporarily lost, as in confused about a location, or one can be a lost soul, wandering rudderless, without the direction of Jesus. Jesus told parables of the lost sheep (Matthew 18:12–14) and the lost…

RECENTLY TWO OF MY DAUGHTERS moved up from elementary school to middle school, and our church didn't have a Sunday school class for their age group. As I heard about the need for a teacher, something stirred within my heart. Should this be something I consider? I wondered. Then, during my Bible reading, I was reminded of the peace that comes to children when time is taken to teach them in the ways of the Lord. How would those middle school youth know about Jesus if someone didn't step up to teach them? I find it's easy to read a Scripture passage and allow it to make me feel warm and fuzzy, but opening my heart to teaching others has me worried. What if those I am teaching have questions…

I WAITED UNTIL THE LAST minute to send a final reminder to a business colleague. She'd always been prompt in returning assignments; I knew she had the deadline on her calendar. When I finally emailed again, she responded that she'd turned in her submission a couple of weeks earlier. She even sent a follow-up message to me when I didn't respond. Finally, we figured out the problem: She'd gotten one letter wrong in my email address. A little mistake, like changing one letter or number, can cause big problems when we're entering a credit card number, ID code, or password. But sometimes one little change can be a positive thing. When God made a covenant with Abram in Genesis, He changed Abram and Sarai's names with one or two letters.…

IT'S ZUCCHINI SEASON IN MY backyard garden again. Although I plant a big mix of fruits and veggies, it seems that my zucchini is the one plant that the local squirrels and rabbits ignore. The tricky thing about zucchini is that I can check the plant one morning and by the next day discover a fruit the size of a baseball bat hiding beneath the leaves. Small zucchini can expand suddenly. I've found the same is true of my attitudes. Sometimes, I have tiny seeds of a bad attitude beginning to grow undercover. A bit of sour grapes. A little bitter melon. Or a prickly pear. If I don't expose it and turn to Jesus immediately, overnight those attitudes can stretch and grow through my personality until they can no…

I RECENTLY READ AN ARTICLE about how common prenuptial agreements have become in recent years. Most are geared toward the protection of individual assets in the event of divorce. Marriage counselors often advise couples to avoid the word divorce during heated arguments, since it brings up the possibility, but prenuptial agreements introduce the idea even before the marriage occurs, reminding the couple there is a loophole in case one of them wants out. Jesus made it clear that following Him was not a temporary gig but an unbreakable covenant. He advises in Scripture to count the cost before choosing to follow Him (John 14:25-33). Jesus doesn't release me from my commitment to Him if I feel like the journey has gotten too inconvenient or demanding. He doesn't dismiss me from…

MY HUSBAND, JOHN, HAS BEEN in sales for decades. As a new employee, his boss taught him that each customer fell into one of four personality types: Analytic, Aggressive, Amiable, or Expressive. His boss said that a good salesperson provided great customer service by discerning a client's personality type, then tailoring the sales pitch accordingly, thus forming a win/win situation. As crazy as it might sound, I think I've used the personality sales strategy in my prayer life. I used to have a preconceived notion of who Jesus was and I tailored my requests accordingly. Doing so didn't necessarily draw me closer to Him; it turned my prayer time into a transaction, with me trying to sell Him on why He should give me what I wanted. When He did,…

AS MY SOON-TO-BE TWENTY-TWO-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER and I Waited in the checkout line, I scanned the merchandise displays for impulse purchases. A bright, green-striped beach bag caught my attention. It would be perfect for our upcoming family vacation. The tote was well constructed with room for towels, sunscreen, and snacks. I put the straps on my shoulder and remembered the days of traipsing through the shifting, white sand to a vacant spot down the beach, away from the crowd. When my daughter was young, her feet would sink in the deep sand. She struggled to walk as she tried to keep up with her father and me. “Walk where Daddy stepped,” I said, as I bent down to her eye level and pointed to where her father's footprints burrowed out the…

PICNICS AND FIREWORKS, MOSQUITO and the scent of sunscreen—all conjure the memory of July 4th gatherings. I'm so grateful for the freedom I enjoy in my country. Liberty is a treasure worth celebrating with noisy fireworks and rousing marches from a local band. But there is a far more amazing freedom that I've been gifted because of the grace of Jesus. I am free to be loved by my Creator, free of the penalty of sin, free of a sense of worthlessness that tries to dog my steps. And I'm free from the fear of death. Galatians reminds me to stand firm in that freedom. Like the people in Galatia, I slip into thinking I need to do more, that perhaps Christ's grace isn't enough. I take on burdens that…

MY SON AND I WANTED to catch a movie at our town's waterfront park. At the end of a busy day, we ran late, and all the nearby parking spots were taken. When Isaac, who has Down syndrome, gets tired or loses patience, he'll dig in his heels and go no further, even if it's something he really wants to do. Laps around the various lots yielded nothing, and parking far away wasn't an option as I had chairs to carry. I started to feel anxious and prayed because I was out of ideas. Thank You, Jesus! I finally found an open parking spot, but it was far enough away to make it a struggle with beach chairs and nowgrumpy Isaac in tow. I got out of my minivan and…

Sometimes Jesus speaks through curious circumstances or people. I shouldn't be surprised. Throughout the Bible, animals or objects became instruments for communicating important truths. A talking donkey, for instance (Numbers 22:28). While watching a musical competition on television, I felt Jesus tugging on my heart. And from what some might consider an unlikely source—Snoop Dogg. The iconic hip-hop rapper, actor, media personality, and businessman served as a guest coach, helping the singing contestants grow stronger and more polished for their next performance. In his inimitable way, Snoop made this simple but profound comment: “I love giving information to those who sponge it up.” Doesn't that sound like something Jesus would say? Jesus spent much of His ministry trying to turn humans into sponges who would listen to truth and soak…

I HOISTED A FULL LAUNDRY basket onto my hip and walked downstairs. While I matched socks and wrestled with fitted sheets, my children tackled their own chores. I was pleasantly surprised to see my two youngest working together nicely in the kitchen. “We're almost done,” called my son from over the counter. “Everything's fine!” I paused. Rarely do children volunteer that everything is fine unless it is most definitely not fine. I set the basket down and walked into the kitchen to investigate. My flip-flops stuck to the floor. “What happened?” I cried, then noticed the empty powdered sugar container lying on its side. A thin layer of white residue blanketed the tile like a dusting of fresh snow. “We tried to clean it up!” My son's eyes brimmed with…

AS A CHILD, MILK MADE me gag, so I drank as little as possible. When I grew up, I cut it entirely from my diet. That's why I wasn't completely surprised by the unfavorable results of my bone density test. I assumed Dr. Schuster would tell me I had to drink the white stuff. But instead, he said, “Get lots of sunshine and eat lots of ice cream. Sunshine for vitamin D and ice cream for calcium. Both together can strengthen your bones.” “Will you put that in writing?” I asked. Dr. Schuster opened his prescription pad and wrote: “Sunshine transdermal QD, ice cream PO QD.” Translation? Sunshine on my skin every morning and ice cream in my mouth once a day. We physically need sunshine. Sun exposure initiates the…

WHEN THE TWO BLIND MEN heard that Jesus was passing by, they cried out to Him for help. The crowd grew angry and tried to silence them. But the men refused to be intimidated. Jesus stopped and asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” The men answered they wanted healing. With a touch from Jesus, they could see. Some of my favorite Bible stories show the rewards of perseverance. That's probably because I struggle with a tendency to give up too easily. A good example is spending time with Jesus and the Word early in the morning. I know what a difference this practice can make in my day. But I always seem to have a “crowd” trying to keep me from calling out to Him: the…

AFTER FORTY-PLUS YEARS OF MARRIAGE, I'm finally starting to understand that when my husband explains something to me in great detail, he isn't implying I'm stupid. Kevin is a pastor with the gift of teaching. He loves to impart knowledge. Period. His penchant for sharing facts has no relationship to my knowledge or expertise. As a child, I repeatedly heard, “If I want something done right, I guess I'll have to do it myself,” from a loved one. I translated those words as, “You are inept.” As an adult, I realize I've applied that same erroneous thinking to many interactions with others. I wrongly believed their words and treatment of me reflected my inherent worth. But there's a big difference between saying “This needs work” and “You are a failure.”…

AS A BEEKEEPER, I'M FASCINATED by bees. Each is a separate organism but is a member of the hive, which itself resembles an organism. The bees’ changing roles parallel human development: first as larva, fed by others; then workers, advancing through the ranks as housekeepers, caregivers, undertakers, builders, packers, fixers—even controlling the temperature in the hive. Some bees guard the hive, while others finally graduate to fieldwork, becoming scouts and foragers. These outdoor bees buzz close while I sit near the hives observing them. Individual bees fly within a few inches of my face, flitting from side to side, zigzagging downward in a plane four inches from my nose. It seemed like they were scouting me! I researched this and discovered they were doing just that. Scientists have discovered that…

ONCE A MONTH, MY FRIEND Christa and I meet in downtown Boise. We grab coffee and gluten-free donuts and talk as we walk down the tree-shaded greenbelt along the Boise River. The coffee is delightful, the donuts are delicious, the walk is idyllic, but it's the conversation I look forward to most. Kids. Husbands. Ministry. Work. Family. Connecting with Christa on a regular basis strengthens our friendship. We can tell each other anything, and we support, encourage, and point each other toward Jesus. When you find a friend like that, you don't let go. Jesus isn't letting go of me, either. In spite of all my mess-ups and weaknesses, He chooses to call me friend. Imagine! Just like my friendship with Christa, I can tell Jesus anything too. Kids. Husbands.…

MY TWO-YEAR-OLD GRANDDAUGHTER, AMELIA, AND her parents recently came to stay with us. My daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter live out of the country, so I was able to share a lot of new foods with Amelia. We discovered she loves yogurt-covered raisins, cheese crackers, and popsicles. Each time I asked Amelia if she wanted to try something new, she opened her mouth wide. As her nana, she trusted me. And because I love her, I never took advantage of her trust. Instead, I made sure I offered delicious foods that I thought she would like. When it comes to my relationship with Jesus, I, too, must be childlike: trusting, fearless, and always full of hope. I must believe that Jesus desires the best for me and that He has good…

I AM VERY CLOSE TO my younger sister, Andrea. We are good friends, and we often joke that we were forced to be this way. Mom didn't allow us to argue as children, and she always stopped put-downs or unkind remarks—even when it was clear we were kidding. I didn't understand why my actions and words were problematic. From what I observed, spats and sibling rivalry were the norm with my friends in their families. Regardless, Mom's expectation for how we treated each other held us to a higher standard. When Jesus walked the earth, He had a higher standard too. His behavior contradicted the eye-for-an-eye culture He lived in (Matthew 5:21-48). Murder was a terrible sin, but anger with another broke God's law to the same degree. Adultery was…

MY HUGE FEMALE CAT, POKEY, loves to sit in my lap while I watch TV. She curls her extra-large body with practiced precision. Rarely is there more than a stray foot hanging off my lap, until Dr. Phibes shows up. We inherited Dr. Phibes—named for a sci-fi movie character—from our son. When Ron moved from home into an apartment, he left his cat behind. Now Dr. Phibes belongs to me. Wait. I belong to him. If Dr. Phibes decides my lap makes the perfect resting place, Pokey's presence doesn't faze him. He silently jumps on the sofa beside me and inches his front paws onto the side of my thigh. Soon his shoulders and front end have displaced half of Pokey. She glares at him. But he keeps going. Little…

I've developed this habit of waving hello to people the minute I turn off the main road in my town and head for home. Even though I'm not in my neighborhood yet, I smile broadly and raise my hand off the steering wheel to greet couples (who are strangers to me) out for a stroll or kids (who I don't know from Adam) playing in their yards. I suppose I feel a shared sense of community with these near-neighbors. That's why I wave and smile at them through my car window. After fourteen years, my hand automatically lifts to wave the minute I turn onto that road and start toward home. Once, while daydreaming behind the wheel, I caught myself waving at a delivery man and then a plumber. The…

AFTER ENJOYING A WEEKEND AT THE COAST, my husband and I headed home. As I drove along the highway, we spotted a large roadside sign. Its words read, “Life is a shipwreck. Sing in the lifeboat.” We exchanged a glance and smiled, reflecting on the previous several months. Together, we'd weathered a shipwreck of our own. After Dave suffered a life-altering accident, we slowed our pace. He needed to be taught a few basic skills and to learn appropriate emotional responses. Speech challenged him. Like a metaphorical bird, words perched at the tip of his tongue, then flew away before he could capture them. I became versed in the true meaning of caregiving. Caring and giving. As I looked after Dave's needs, I saw in his eyes a new level…

We're having an exterior painting project done this summer. I'd been doing a little project of my own, and because I'd procrastinated I didn't want to bother Jesus about it, even though I could really use His help. It was a hot day, so I had the idea to offer the painter a glass of ice water. This isn't the first time Pat had painted for us. We found him through an acquaintance who told us he worked, during the school year, at a local Christian school, so I figured he was a believer. He was high on the ladder, painting our shutters, when I stepped outside. “How are you doing?” I called, looking skyward. “Want some ice water?” Pat had brought his own water jug, but he was eager…

MY NEIGHBOUR DESCRIBES MY FLOWER beds as an English cottage garden. That's a nice way of saying my flora is out of control. Overgrown mounds of green sprout colorful lilies and irises. Purple phlox crowd the sidewalk. Morning glories creep up the front porch railing. I don't have a green thumb. In fact, my husband nicknamed me the plant assassin since I can't keep a houseplant alive. But we built our home in a former cow pasture, so my outdoor flowers grow in spite of me. One invasive plant appeared last summer. I call it the Velcro weed. Long and spindly with sticky fingers along its stem, the plant camouflages itself beneath my blooms and multiplies. When it broke through the foliage, I plucked it and tried to toss it…

“I'd hate to be out in that!” The storm hit suddenly on this super-heated summer night. From the comfort of our family room, I'm watching it rage. Trees whip in the wind. The roll of thunder seems unending. Rain pelts our metal roof with the fierceness of hail. As I sip tea and note an especially strong flash of lightning, gratitude swells. I'm glad I'm not out in that. But I could be… out in life's storms. Unprotected from the harsh words, the biting winds of disappointment, the endless roll of anxiety. Instead, Jesus has invited me inside to take refuge in His shelter. Let the winds blow. I'm safe, secure, aware of what rages outside but undamaged by its fury. I'm living through what threatens because I accepted His…

“MOM, WHY DON'T YOU THROW that old thing away? It's a hundred years old!” My daughter Brooke glared at the electric can opener as it struggled with a can of pie filling. It stopped and started, spewing lemon filling in my eye, making a scary grinding noise all the while. Just because it's old doesn't mean it's useless. I cherish old things. I remember the excitement my brothers and I shared when Dad brought this electric can opener home for Mother fifty-five years ago. Dad wasn't one for squandering money on gadgets, but this pristine almond appliance, equipped with a knife sharpener, would surely revolutionize our kitchen! The sparkling almond has aged and the can opener is beyond cranky. No telling how many cans of cat food, corn, and peaches…

MY OLDEST DAUGHTER, STEPHANIE, LIVES in Washington state. We typically see her and her husband three or four times a year. During the pandemic, the border between Canada and the United States closed, so we were unable to visit in person. During that time, Stephanie and her husband bought their first home. We'd packed and moved our other three kids’ households multiple times, but circumstances made it impossible to help. I felt sad knowing how much Stephanie wished we could share this experience with them. I felt even sadder when she underwent surgery, and I could do nothing to help during her recovery. Every time my heart grew heavy, I focused on the truth of Jesus's love. He demonstrated it by willingly dying on the cross to forgive our sin…

THE MINISTERS’ WIVES AT MY church get together once a quarter for an evening of fun, fellowship, and prayer. At our most recent gathering, our girls’ minister, Shelby, led us in a prayer exercise that was especially memorable. First, she told us to think about all the things that were weighing heavily on our hearts. Our questions. Our burdens. Our doubts. Our needs. Then she challenged us to narrow all those thoughts down to a single word that represented the one area of our lives in which we most needed Jesus in that moment, and to write that word on an index card. Some wrote wisdom. A few wrote peace. Others wrote reconciliation or boldness or patience. I Wrote joy. Then, at Shelby's instruction, we spent the next fifteen minutes…

MY HUSBAND AND I ARE happily married, but the “happy” part didn't happen automatically. Early in our marriage, I blurted out my emotions without considering their impact. I was quick to judge his actions while making excuses for my own behavior. I would spend hours on tasks that consumed me, overworking and leaving very little time for us as a couple. Even though I was overly sensitive to his constructive criticism, I knew I needed to change. I wanted a second chance. The Peter in Acts is very different from the Peter in Matthew. In Acts 4, Peter courageously and unapologetically preaches the Gospel of Jesus, while back in Matthew 26, he denied knowing Jesus. So what made the difference? Jesus gave Peter a second chance. Peter learned from his…

ENGINE TROUBLE ON OUR SAILBOAT caused unexpected delays. My husband and I arrived at the mouth of the Fraser River as the wind was calm and the sun was setting. At dusk, we motored upriver. It was nearly impossible to see hazards in the water, but we had to keep going so we could find a place to moor. I pulled out our big light. Gene steered the sailboat while I stood on the deck holding a three-thousand-lumen spotlight (equivalent to the light of three thousand candles). Steel navigational buoys located fourteen hundred feet apart dotted the length of that section of the river, marking the lanes in which incoming and outgoing vessels traveled. Colliding with one could seriously damage a hull, which is the body of the boat. My…

FOR MY DAUGHTER JOCELYN'S TENTH birthday, I bought her a cottoncandy machine and several different flavors of floss sugar. Ever since, she's been making cotton candy as often as she can. It's mesmerizing to watch the colored sugar slowly melt and then suddenly become a whisper-thin thread that she spins into a cloud. But when moisture hits it, even a drop of liquid, the cottony puff melts. I've been guilty, at times, of having faith like the cotton candy that Jocelyn makes. When I meld my will into Jesus's, beautiful things happen. I find myself floating on a billowy cloud of His grace, overjoyed with all He's blessed me with. But when I start to float along on my successes, forgetting to routinely ground myself in Him, my ego begins…

MY SON, WILL, RECENTLY GRADUATED from high school. It was a glorious day. “Pomp and Circumstance” played through the loudspeakers. The graduates filed past us, two by two. Our family cheered for Will as he walked by. But he didn't acknowledge us. He stared straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the stage. Will's senior year has been full of ups and downs. Senior retreat. Sickness. Makeup work. Finals. Senior trip. It had all led to this moment. The journey to graduation wasn't what he expected, but Will had done what he set out to do. We cheered when he received his diploma. I cried a little. Like Will's last year of high school, my journey on this earth has been unexpected, full of ups and downs, but Jesus shows me…

AFTYER ENDURING A PARTICULARLY DIFFICULT spring, a friend suggested I focus on a summer of praise. Instead of asking Jesus for something or thanking Him for blessings, she encouraged me to look for and honor His attributes in nature. Before I went for a walk each morning, I'd slip my smartphone into my pocket. When I noticed something beautiful or interesting, I'd snap a picture of it and ponder what it showed me about Jesus. A large stone reminded me He was my firm foundation. A delicate wildflower spoke to me of the gentleness of Jesus. A bush laden with berries made me think of His generosity. As I stopped to notice the beauty around me, I began to have new eyes to see. I learned to praise Jesus for…

A FRIEND AND I WERE deeply engaged in conversation when she attempted to knock on wood. The only trouble was, we stood in front of our hundred-year-old church, which was built out of handhewn stone. It's funny how this ancient superstition of touching wood is still so ingrained, even in followers of Jesus. For the most part, she doesn't practice other superstitious rituals. No throwing salt over her shoulder or dabbing olive oil behind her ears, yet she readily touches wood to ward off the loss of something positive and good in her life. This contrast between her professed faith in Jesus and her superstitious outward action has weighed on my heart and mind. In those instances when she fears losing a blessing, shouldn't her automatic response be to touch…

WITHOUT REALIZING WHAT SHE WAS saying, a toddler interrupted my prayer time with a friend. “Stop talking to Jesus!” Yes, the child's need for a frozen treat was strong, but it's highly unlikely she had any concept of the weight or rudeness or ridiculousness of those words. Or are they ridiculous? Maybe that advice is wiser than it at first appears. My ratio of talking words versus listening words in prayer is often out of balance. Requests come naturally. There's no lack of needs to discuss with Him. But for me, the listening part of a conversation with Jesus gets shortchanged too often. After giving the toddler a Popsicle, we all went out on the deck. My friend and I resumed our prayer time, not talking to Jesus, but listening.…

AFTER WEEKS OF RESEARCH, I found the perfect spray to refresh my hair. I loved the sheen and moisture the hairspray gave my curls. But moments after using it, I felt stinging and saw burns and discoloration on my ears and forehead. Instead of discarding the spray, I sat it on the shelf. I really didn't want to throw it out. I liked what it did to my hair. As irrational as it sounds, I hoped I could think of a way to keep using it, even though it burned my skin. The lure of temptation can be irrational too. Jesus used Scripture to take control of the situation when He was tempted in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1-10). He used God's Word to fight against the enemy and prevail during…

THE WEEK HAD FELT a month long: too much work, projects that I couldn't finish, and flare-ups of health problems. And just when my husband and I were making headway with a financial goal, our furnace broke down and needed replacing. When Sunday rolled around, I wanted to pull the quilt over my head and stay in bed. But I knew that church was where I needed to be—what I needed most. Sure enough, the hymns about Jesus lifted my spirits. Smiles of friends brought joy. Words of Scripture fell on my parched heart like water. The pastor's sermon shared wisdom and encouragement. Each person participating in the service offered kindness by their presence, and that kindness brought refreshment. Mv soul was quenched. Refreshment is a beautiful, grace-filled word. It's…

GOING FOR WALKS IS AN easy way for me to get some exercise. Before I head out the door, I gather my keys, phone, and identification. I don't map out a route; I just go where the spirit leads me. Although I'm walking in our neighborhood, my husband leans toward caution. He wants to know which direction I'm headed so he can find me in case of an emergency or if I'm gone too long. “You need to be safe!” he says. I wanted to have the freedom to roam the streets and address my husband's concern about my safety. As a compromise, I use my phone's “share my location” feature that allows him to track me and see my whereabouts in real time. In Psalm 139:7-8 (NIV), King David…

I EAT MY BREAKFAST STRAIGHT from the tree outside the back door, savoring sweet, succulent fruit until I've had my fill. Thinking I'd planted an ornamental shade tree, I was surprised when it turned out to be a fruiting mulberry tree. Had I known, I never would've planted a berry tree so near an entrance to our home. Berries tracked in on shoes are notorious for staining carpets. In our old garden, I'd enjoyed eating fresh, purple-black mulberries straight from the tree, planted in a hedgerow far from the house. This tree, though—which hitched a ride as an interloper in the pot of a poplar tree—turned out to be a white mulberry tree. Now, each time I eat fresh white mulberries straight off this unexpected blessing of a tree I…

MY YOUNGEST DAUGHTER AND HER husband hung two bird feeders in their yard. Small birds like wrens, finches, and sparrows visited daily. Crows came, too, and tried to reach the seeds with their beaks, but they were too large. As I visited her one day, my daughter felt pity for the crows, so she placed several pieces of bread on the deck. Two feathered friends came to investigate the moment she retreated into the house. One bird grabbed two chunks in its beak and then perched on the deck rail to swallow them. The second bird waited its turn and then did the same thing. That's when the first bird behaved like a bully, using its beak to pry open the other bird's beak and yank bread from its mouth.…

I BOUGHT A PLASTIC STORAGE bench with “some assembly required.” My older son, Pierce, is fourteen, and I'm always looking for him to learn new skills. I briefly reviewed the instructions with him and a buddy, gave them the necessary tools, and stepped away, hoping they would sort it out as part of the learning process. Not too far into it, I heard harrumphing and G-rated expletives. “Mom, this thing is broken! We have to send it back.” I smiled. I remembered I'd read in the instructions, “Before you send this back, please call us.” I've put together many pieces of furniture, so I knew this was probably a case of user error. I read the directions out loud, and the three of us carefully walked through the steps together.…

TWO BEAUTIFUL CHINESE HIBISCUS PLANTS are displaying all their glory on our deck this summer. Their bright yellow flowers attract hummingbirds, butterflies, and bees. My husband, Hal, and I enjoy watching the pollinators dart among the blooms. But what I find most interesting about the hibiscus is that each day a lovely bloom withers away—only to be replaced by another one the next morning. The flowers bring to mind one of my favorite hymns, “Great Is Thy Faithfulness,” and the song's lyric, “Morning by morning new mercies I see.” For me, those blooms represent the new mercies granted to me every single day. My eyes opened this morning. New mercy. I'm able to get out of bed and move about. New mercy. Hal and I have good health. New mercy.…

HOW DOES THE GRACE OF Jesus show up in death and dying? The tragic loss of a friend's brother—young, vibrant, a living testimony to the love of Jesus—has me pondering that question. I trust Jesus, so I know He cares. Jesus was not unaware of the moment when the young man's foot slipped off the cliff. What has both comforted and sobered me is the reminder that we are all in the queue to see the King. From the moment of our birth, we're part of the line that winds its way around the world and back. As time passes, we age, inching forward toward the moment when we stand in the King's presence. Imagine waiting in line at a theme park for ninety years. In this case, though, our…

ONE NIGHT, DURING A VACATION with other couples, we played a foosball tournament. We giggled like kids as we clumsily twisted the metal rods affixed with soccer-like players, “kicking” a little ball back and forth, trying to score or block goals. It had been a long time since I had laughed so hard. God created us to play, and I don't think He wants that to lessen with age. But as life gets serious, playfulness diminishes; I know mine has. When I read the story of the tax collectors who confronted Peter about paying taxes, I noticed a playful side to Jesus. When asked if Jesus paid taxes, Peter said, “Yes,” then went to talk to Jesus. Before Peter could speak, Jesus answered his question. I imagine this had to…

“WOULD YOU MIND MOVING TO that seat across the table, Jeanette?” my coauthor, Beth, said. We were the keynote speakers at a women's retreat. Two of Beth's childhood friends had come to hear her message. “Oh, sure, no problem,” I chirped, and bounded out of my chair next to Beth. But my heart didn't reflect my bright smile. I was offended. Wow, Beth invites me to speak with her this weekend and then tosses me aside when her old friends show up. Just like that! Before I'd finished pouting, Jesus spoke in my heart with His kind voice. “Jeanette, think how you'd feel if two of your friends from third grade stopped by. Wouldn't you want them to sit beside you?” I didn't have to think about my answer. Of…

MY SISTER ERICA AND HER husband came to visit us last summer. Erica has an online reselling business that she is constantly curating for. This means hitting thrift shops and secondhand stores on a regular basis. While she was here, we went to a couple of them together. I lingered in the different aisles looking for cute items that caught my eye, but Erica had a different approach. A woman on a mission, she zoomed through the racks to find specific brands, many I didn't recognize. Some items she chose, such as a worn pair of shoes and a brightly patterned shirt, didn't look like much to me. But Erica knew their true worth at a glance. I was just looking for cute outfits. Erica was looking at the hidden…

AFTER MY HUSBAND surprised me with a new watch, I used a gift card to order some extra bands in various colors. One band quickly became my favorite. It was black mesh with a strong magnetic clasp. I started wearing it daily. One evening, while eating supper with my family, I was amused to discover that an unused spoon had attached itself to the magnetic clasp and was suddenly dangling from my watch like a charm. My children and I laughed, and we began experimenting with other utensils to see what would stick and what wouldn't. As the week progressed, it became clear that my watch band attracted more than forks and knives. It also attracted jewelry, key chains, pens, paper clips—even my metal desk. I never knew when the…

THE PANDEMIC WAS TRAUMATIC. MANY people died and many more became sick. Often, people had to find different ways to do their jobs, or some reorganized their households so they could work from home. Not being able to see loved ones and hug them in person was emotionally difficult. The financial security that some families had built up over decades was depleted when there was a job loss, illness, or death. Having to socially distance from each other and limit simple routines, like grocery shopping or beauty appointments, was inconvenient. The pandemic challenged the whirlwind of activity I was used to. In his loving, yet straightforward way, my husband had been urging me to stop saying yes to every opportunity that came my way for years. He wanted me to…

I'M CRAVING SOMETHING SWEET. THANKFULLY, I remember the delicious handmade chocolate bar that a couple of coworkers had recently given me for my birthday. I'd only eaten part of it and went to retrieve it from the kitchen table where I'd last seen it. Not there. I began to look everywhere for it—the refrigerator, countertops, dining room, bedroom, my office, desk drawers. It's nowhere to be found. Had I already scarfed it down? Although I'm irritated, I stopped searching and worrying and asked Jesus to take care of it. The next day, while sitting in my home office, I swivel around in my chair and my eyes land on the top of a small file cabinet. The chocolate! I thought I'd looked in that spot last night. Had it been…