A warm welcome to you! Thank you for stopping by. As you read through my pages, I believe you will find that I am just like you—a woman who loves the Lord and cherishes His grace. And, like you, I sometimes grow weary from the journey. I have experienced many difficult places in my life—a brother’s suicide, my mom’s young death, cancer, a prodigal child, extensive unemployment. There have been times when I thought I couldn’t go on. But, God…don’t you love that? But God carried me through and opened my eyes to see Him in my midst. He opened my ears to hear His sweet whispers of love.
Take hope in the knowledge that you are cherished by the One who made you—you are sheltered in the shadow of His wing, close to His heart. It is my prayer that as we get to know one another you, too, will see beyond the veil and will learn to say, “Even so, I walk in the Presence of the Lord”
Sirens began their eerie scream as the sky turned dark and the clouds began to undulate in the currents of the wind. Kids hurried home from the apartment playground while worried mommas called their names, fear hammering our hearts.
I grabbed our upstairs neighbor — another seminary student — and convinced her to stay with us until the tornado passed.
I’m learning, Lord, that You are the silver lining when the storm clouds billow and threaten destruction over my life. You are the light in the darkness. The glory of Your abiding presence creates the brilliant outline surrounding the charcoal gray of the storm.
Yes, Lord, it is because of Your presence in the storm that the silver lining appears.
It was a brisk morning. The fire crackled beside me overcoming the chill in our home. The Word of God lay open on my lap overcoming the fear that stirred within me.
In our living room my husband blared the television with its insistent updates on the coronavirus pandemic — a necessary part of our lives these days, but a fear producer as well. With David’s dementia, the pandemic has created enormous amounts of paranoia in his mind which has caused a very decipherable decline in his mental condition over the past few weeks.
Lord, what an amazing God You are. How can I ever grasp how deep and how wide Your love for me is? How can I even think about approaching You, a holy God?
My sins are great.
My heart is cluttered with thoughts and attitudes not of You.
I slid the dish into the warm sudsy water, but my mind was a million miles away — certainly not on the breakfast dishes. Peering out the window over the kitchen sink, I noticed two sparrows perched on a long extended tendril of the grapevine that had stretched itself into the apple tree and wound itself through the barren branches ripe for spring.
The birds appeared to be so peaceful. Calm. Content.
Lord, You are my Refuge and Strength. You are the song in my darkest night of fear and despair.
You are my peace.
Remind me of this as You bathe me in Your perfect peace. When I seek You, I find You. When I find You, I find peace.
I closed my eyes against the forceful fears of the Coronavirus and spoke quietly, “Jesus… Jesus…”
There really is something about that Name.
Lord, my soul longs for Your touch, for Your presence — Your light in my shadows of suffering.
You are well acquainted with suffering and for that I am thankful. I’m thankful because You understand my heart. My suffering pales in comparison to others, and yet my spirit is troubled and I lack peace.
Oyster gray was the color of that March afternoon — the sky, my thoughts, and my heart. It was as though dullness permeated everything about me and all that lay within me.
I felt separated from God.