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”

With joy,
Nan

Searching For God? Call. Come. Pray

Searching For God? Call. Come. Pray

The broom raked across the hardwood floor, scattering breakfast crumbs in its wake. My body went through the motions of daily routine, but my mind was wandering through the murky waters searching for God.

Trials of life were taking their toll. Hope for a secure future raced down a road leading through dark shadows and angry branches of despair.

“Nan,” I heard the Lord whisper to my weary spirit, “Come and sit with Me awhile.”

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Why Should We Let Doubt Win?

Why Should We Let Doubt Win?

A gentle wind began to blow across the hillside. Multitudes of people sat at Jesus’s feet learning of God’s love. Their bellies were filled with fish and bread — a miracle from heaven — even when the disciples’ doubt tried to prevent the miracle. As darkness began to fall, Jesus sent the people on their way, and told the disciples to get in their boat and go before Him to the other side.

Jesus, on the other hand, went up on the mountain by Himself to pray.

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Different, Yet a comrade, Because of God’s Gift of Praise

Different, Yet a comrade, Because of God’s Gift of Praise

My song rang out loud and clear as I walked along the dirt road rambling across the mountain ridge. Sunlight warmed my shoulders. Praise warmed my heart.

As I sang, I noticed the song of a bluebird, an unlikely comrade on my walk, perched on a limb of the oak butted up against the road. I stopped to admire him.

When I stopped singing, he stopped singing. When I sang a note, he sang a note.

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I recognize Christ in His Eyes Set Against His Ebony Skin

I recognize Christ in His Eyes Set Against His Ebony Skin

Passion flowed from his lips. Anguish. Desperation. Desire to evoke change.

Behind him throngs of multi-colored skin shouted. Some cried. Some clung to each other for courage as the amber glow of flames lit up the night sky while blasts of tear gas exploded and the harsh pops of firecrackers sprinkled more anger in the darkness of the city streets.

But this young man — he touched my heart.

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