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”
Lord, You are good and so very faithful. I stand amazed by Your love. Teach me to trust Your plan even though I can’t see the path clearly.
Your ways are not my ways.
Your thoughts are not my thoughts.
The porch swing rocked in peaceful rhythm. My spirit stirred as I looked up from my Bible, raising it to my breast, seeking to grasp the wonder of God within its pages. I looked toward the ridge where the sun began its evening descent.
Magenta began rising above the trees. Lavender and apricot clouds tossed their petals across the wide expanse as the North Star made its appearance. Soon a multitude of glimmering stars would make their presence known against an indigo sky.
O Lord, what a battle it has been lately! I keep praying and praying in order to pray it through, but it’s been hard. I’ve been discouraged because I don’t see the results I seek. The shadows of difficulty have dimmed Your fingerprints so that I don’t see them clearly.
Yet I know by faith You are with me. Indeed, You are for me and You are working in my life at all times.
A few nights ago my devotional began with, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it” (Genesis 28:16).
I close out each day reading from a little book of Scripture, each page gathered beneath a theme, a thought … a concept of God. The leather cover of Daily Light is growing soft and worn from use, its pages beginning to take on the fragrance of my hand lotion applied every night as I settle into bed.
Lord, life is hard, but You are good. Always. Your love remains steadfast even on the hardest, ugliest days. I’m so appreciative of this.
You are my strength, my shield. You are my song in the night. The night has been really long lately — the difficult place more intense.
The early spring storm came with a vengeance. Winds hammered the house while trees bent in submission to its power. Four inches of rain soaked the earth and overflowed into the creeks, rivers, and roads.
It was fierce and frightening.
But it was over.
Lord, what a joy You are. Your blessings are abundant. Your faithfulness astounds me. You remain steadfast, even when I don’t — especially when the flames of trial are fierce. I want to count it all joy, but, honestly, Lord? Honestly, my attitude stinks sometimes.
It’s easy to become self-absorbed. It’s easy to see only circumstances and not focus on You instead. Forgive me, Lord. That is my downfall! When I take my eyes off You, my bad attitude towards the difficult place takes over. Please forgive me.
The cardinal threw his head back and sang. Bathed in a ray of sunlight breaking through the young foliage of spring, his song lifted to the heavens, its melody surely praising his Creator.
As the cardinal’s song wafted over the mountain hollar, I too was inspired to praise. I lifted my head towards the One who loves me and began to sing, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty …
Lord, You are my light and my salvation, my shield, the Rock upon which I stand. When I stand on the Rock with You, I get a glimpse of the plans You have for me, the hope of needed miracles for health and circumstances of my loved ones. And I am comforted.
But when I climb down from that Rock by my own accord, I find myself groping in the dark, unable to see a future of hope.