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I don’t know how I know. The thin line between what is seen and unseen. The space of the physical and supernatural, the temporary and everlasting. But I know it is real. And I am hungry. My heart and mind ache to taste it—no, consume it completely, now. In my last post I shared how I had become a bit numb, distracted, a little overwhelmed. A move can do that to you, sure. And the news. And worry. And trying to hold everything together. Or just trying to be enough. This world is one of blazing, knock-you-off-your-feet beauty. Astounding nature, in its colors and music—wind and ocean, mountain and forest, sky and sun. A place singing with miracle, with the ache of rebirth. There is, so close, a kind of life I am made to be hungry for—a kind of life I am designed to consume. And, rather, I li...

“Do you have children?” “Are you married?” I get that these are questions most women often ask as a cordial attempt to get acquainted. Their success rate in forging a connection amongst my female counterparts is high, but their ability to alienate someone in my current stage of life is just as steep. My 20-something self detested being asked such questions. With each passing year, as I became more and more the minority, my reflex to cringe upon hearing them became quicker. I hated how they made me feel vulnerable. Because once I revealed my single, childless state, the magnifying glasses seemed to emerge from in front of puzzled faces. Attempts would be made to put the pieces together as to why I fell short in growing a family my own. Suggestions would be made as to how I could fix the pro...

Scripture writing plans are incredibly simple, yet incredibly effective for helping us read, interpret and absorb the Word of God. Rather than simply letting our eyes pass over a verse and perhaps miss its full meaning, writing Scripture down helps us absorb each word and really think through what the passage before us is saying. Each day in December you’ll have the opportunity to write down a verse. We suggest using a journal where you can add any additional mediations or prayers that the verse brings to mind. Click here for your March Scripture Writing Challenge!  Join Our Telegram Group : Salvation & Prosperity  

My mind is not full of ideas. I haven’t been reading much. Just snatches of news—alarm and sadness and problems to be solved. This week I haven’t been engaging with friends face to face. Just occasional texts—checks-in and catchups. My mom calls me to tell me my grandmother died. She asks me to say a prayer at the service on Wednesday. I read and respond to emails from women who are hurting—women in this country and across the world. I feel their confusion—the questions that come from suffering, from isolation. Where is God? Does anyone care? Why is this happening to me? It feels simple, this posture—though I am not sure how I grew more comfortable with it. A willingness to be present with another person without having any right answer, any way to personally alleviate heartache and pain. I...

The contents of our attic are in our backyard. There are skis and sleds, three Easter baskets, a pair of crutches from Justin’s knee surgery, a container of American Girl doll clothes, five suitcases, a rocking horse, a basket of blocks, another basket of Thomas the Train, three bins of children’s art and stories, two bins of journals. I can see it all from my bedroom window. The things we will take with us, the physical objects that jog memories—and the useful objects that help. The movers come tomorrow. They will deal with the rest of the contents inside the house. It has been a month of sorting and stacking, organizing and removing. Like we did six years ago, when we had to move out of this house for a half of a year, we will move in with Justin’s dad temporarily until our new home, jus...

The Bondage of Control  By: Jennifer Maggio     I’m not a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl. I would probably not enjoy it if someone told me to hop in the car for an impromptu vacation and  said, ”we’ll figure it out as we go!” Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t definitely not like it. I wouldn’t even hop in the car! I like organization and planning. I like knowing what to expect. In fact, I don’t really like to feel out of control of anything. I’m a total planner who likes to have money put away for that inevitable rainy day fund. I am the girl who plans the wedding years in advance or maps out the future of my kids at birth. You know the type. I’m a recovering control freak. Now, I don’t admit that to you l...

I stared at the glowing screen, eyes glazed over, darting from one item to the next. I compared products and added to the ever-growing “wishlist.” Babies don’t need much, but we are foster parents and instead of nine months of preparation, we have weeks to prepare. Car seats. Consumer reports. Carriers. Will it arrive in time? Thank God for free two-day shipping. Completely overwhelmed I ended the night gazing at the problem through tears. Wishing the pain that causes a child to need a backup plan on no one. My empathy ignited for separated families and those stuck in cycles they cannot escape. The fear of the unknown future for this tiny one, for my heart. I seek the physical necessities, but also mourn that life has not been stable and “put together”. I plan out what furniture we ne...

The end of the week, and I try to discern the state of my heart. There have been pockets of calm—sitting and reading a book one afternoon being the most unusual (and necessary/unproductive) thing I’ve done in a while. And beauty—Justin and I beginning most mornings bundling up and hiking/running in the dark on a trail in the hills near our home. And yet, I feel in flux. Not really here. Not present. Not sure how I am. Nothing is wrong and yet, I confess, I live in a state of perpetual busyness rather than peace. A state that creates turmoil within me. A state that makes me question if my “okay” is, really, “okay.” I stand now, at my kitchen counter and type this. This is how I do most of my typing—standing. This posture feels comfortable to me because it symbolizes, somehow, that I am not ...

Are you currently in a place of waiting? Perhaps you are waiting for a job, for healing, for restoration in a relationship, or for wisdom to know where you should go next.That place of waiting is a place we are all familiar with. It’s a place we find ourselves in often over the course of our lives. Though it’s a familiar place and one we know well, we can often grow wearing in our waiting. Sometimes our hearts grow heavy with worry and doubt. Sometimes we might wonder if God has forgotten about us or given up on us. The Psalmist knew that place of waiting as well. His cry of “How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? (13:1) is one that resonates with our own heart. The Psalmist cried out to God in prayer and so should we. If y...

Stop thinking. My son shares with us what his rowing teammate sitting behind him says to him as they move their shell through the early morning waters of Marina del Ray. Stop thinking. Over the phone after practice he translates: Let yourself be present for the moment; be mindful of your movements but not self-critical. This will help you be more aware of where you are, whom you are with, what is yours for you to do. Stop thinking. He is emotional on the phone when he tells us those words’ impact—words delivered to him with kindness and encouragement, not judgment. For he is, he would tell you, in his head a lot. I can relate to the ache of being self-conscious, feeling anxious about whether or not I am the person I am supposed to be. Stop thinking. It makes me realize how much I am get wo...