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This one is for the Jane Austen fans out there, you may recall Mr. Darcy saying in Pride and Prejudice, “My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.” This arrogant statement is laced with finality. *Spoiler Alert*  Mr. Darcy does change his mind in the end about a certain young lady (Lizzy Bennett) and actually marries her! They get a new beginning. One of my favorite things about God is His willingness to give us new beginnings. What a hopeless world it would be without forgiveness, particularly God’s forgiveness! Recently, I found myself feeling heartsick as I looked at my 3-year-old daughter as she sobbed. I had gotten upset with her and made a judgment error in my parenting. She felt I had been harsh with her and I was cut to the heart. I apologized, she forgave, and I knew ...

I was going through school to become a teacher, I remember expressing delight in having chosen a career in which I could embrace change each school year. Change was plausible, whether it be a change in students or a change in grade level. And now, in my tenth year of teaching, I detest September. With the start of each new school year, melancholy begins to loom. I miss my old students, I experience an inner lament for the children from the year before. Together we were a well-oiled machine. They know how I operate. They know the routines. They know my expectations. They get my sarcasm. They know me. The fresh faces of September, however, are haphazard and helter-skelter. Starting anew is just plain hard. This past year, September’s song of starting anew brought distraught ou...

It was one of those days in which the rain kept coming. I stood behind my church’s connection desk and watched as one of the greeter’s hair soared straight into the air, as the wind swirled and ruffled it to and fro. The drear and drizzle continued throughout most of the afternoon. It was the first day of Daylight Savings Time, and the weather seemed to remind me of how sleepy I really was and that caffeine was not a strong enough remedy for my tired body. I took a nap in an attempt to satiate my body’s need for rest, and upon waking up, I spotted the most glorious sunbeams pouring in through the bay window. They flickered in and out of the clouds, and when I finally made it alfresco to let the dogs out, the sun stuck. Golden rays of sun created a spotlight on the newly bloomed flowers. Th...

The birds are singing out this spring day like they know what is required. They know what it is to be free, perfectly themselves, doing what they are made to do. In the garden we are restoring, I am surprised by the number of birds that hop around, the soil their ballroom, under branches and bushes and leaves. I am sure they are throwing grand parties under the foliage, tasting the sweet soil as they forage and gossip and sing. I am surprised each time I walk through the path that intersects their (literal) stomping grounds, expecting birds to be gliding in blue sky, not dancing around, making the plants rustle like they are going to sway over to me, hands on hips, and threaten me to a duel. Two weeks ago, after I gave up straining the fruit picker for the last remaining oranges from the r...

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. Click here for your April Scripture Writing Challenge! Join Our Telegram Group : Salvation & Prosperity  

“Wow. I could never do what you’re doing. I would get so attached, and never be able to let them go home.” I have heard this thought throughout the years from kind, well-meaning people. This statement, that strokes my pride but forgets the work God has done in me, is the most common reaction I get as a foster parent. It comes in different tones. Astonishment. Admiration. Confusion. Perhaps a touch of guilt. I never know quite how to respond. Whether it comes up at the grocery store, through a message on Facebook, or while standing in the lobby of a church, we all agree on one thing — It isn’t natural to love when there is nothing in it for us. I hear you. It’s true, it is hard to continue connecting. Pursuing the best for a child I won’t get to see grow up takes a whole lot ...

Flowers are starting to bloom, and jackets are being left behind. Spring is coming! We have a beautiful printable by Sarah Dohman for you this month of 1 Colossians 1:15-20. This verse reminds us who the great creator is, and how Christ made the way our souls to have new life. Click here to get your free printable! Join Our Telegram Group : Salvation & Prosperity  

The trees are dancing. Rustling their fingers in the wind. I sit on a bench outside the library, and they hang their long arms down around me, letting their green finery sparkle with just as much dignity as a class of kindergarteners whose dried pasta necklaces, strung together with yarn, demand glee and celebration and joy. Yes, you are fancy. Yes, I see you. Yes, you are some beautiful, glory-clapping trees. Ordinary? This day? No way. Just miracle. Here. Here. Here. In the presence of beauty, I feel the tension within me. Tension to feel—too much, too little? Oh, this aching world. And he knows. He knows. While countries battle and people cry out, what is the response? Does the heart rise up and forget to cower? Does it choose to feel and not be overwhelmed? Does it trust the hope of Go...

Over seventy-five ladies joined one another around circular tables, ate tasty food, and shared their stories as we gathered at the local church. Our pastor’s wife prompted us with questions about social media, and how easy, how often, the comparison game takes place. Simply open up Facebook, or my personal fave, Instagram, and the scrolling begins. Swiping downward through apps can be mindless, but can also prompt me to look at other people’s pictures and wonder, “Am I missing something?” My particular table included women ranging from teenagers to women in their forties. Some were college students, some were college graduates. Three married with children, five single. The initial questions I asked as table hostess included basic information, but soon deepened into less explored, hard conv...

The quilt is about to jump off the bed. I think it’d like to, with all the lives it has lived before it happened to be pieced together by fingers holding a thin silver sheath of metal and robust white thread. There are two quilts layered on top of each other, too short to cover the king mattress, with the top one, on which I am now sitting as I perch on the corner of it with black Nikes strapped onto my feet because I’m supposed to be out walking—this day, still, is so beautiful—but the colors have stopped me. Pink kissing red in happy spirals and triangular pendants of stars, the green centers holding them all down. Flanked by hefty slices of blue gingham. And then, what makes me smile even more is a happy decisive cotton rectangle with printed images of kitchen accoutrements—an old woode...