Over the years I have often found myself repeating these same words: We are in a tough spot again... Christians so often reference the 11th hour, when our last-minute God seems to miraculously show up, not in our timing, but in  his,  so the saying goes. But what happens when he doesn't show up? What about those times when the thing we were sure he would not allow to happen actually DOES?  I recently received the following text from a close friend: And this is only one of several difficult things happening in their lives.  Last night I sat in a sermon, where my Pastor, Ed Newton, was talking about the 11:59 mark - but have hope, he said, because 12:01 is coming!  We are in a tough spot again...  He asked, who in the crowd are in an 11:59 moment? Raise your hands. Of course, I did. We are there! He spoke a word over the crowd, a prophetic word I believe, that 12:01 is coming. The dark night of the soul is almost over and a new day is about to dawn...

Over the last several weeks I have been attending vocational classes in Information Technology. I get up in the morning and as I am getting ready to go to class, I look in the bathroom and mirror to do my hair and makeup. I then go into my bedroom, and get dressed. I hate getting dressed. I don't like how much I weigh, how my clothes fit, or the options I have had as the spring is turning to summer. Summer meaning that I can't cover my curves and bulges with sweaters and loose clothing. Summer is a miserable time.  Once I get to the building there are two sets of double doors leading into the building. It's the worst part of my day. The reflection in those double doors makes me look fatter than any other reflection I see. But I march on, because that what people do. I am on my way to class. By the time I get off the elevator on the 8th floor my mind has generally turned to something else.  After class I drive home. Where I am currently renting there is a glass storm-door t...

I look toward the horizon. I see the storm coming, I feel winds of change across my soul.  I've been here before.  I smell the enemy, waiting to shred lessons unfurled.  I sense from deep within, to watch darkening clouds, to flee the pelting rain, Is to fail to learn the lesson; to stand soaking in unnecessary pain. From the past I have learned few storms are outrun, tattering unfurling sails.  The lessons that come in the storm, the sun soon reveals.  When the storm has passed, it is then more gentle winds carry me along;  And the sails unfurled, the lessons learned, take me to where I belong. 

Yet God so loved... that He said no to His own most beloved son's request,  "Father, if there is any other way..." We are the recipients of that most famous, "No" And aren't we forever grateful....

70 Days. 70 days that feel like 70 years. 70 days a fisherman’s Widow, a title unbefitting a 24 year-old. 70 days of   gut-wrenching tears, unwanted change, rage, and depression.   Seeking a few hours away, a few hours to forget, I step out of the building on Table Bluff.   Across the small field of grass, I see a stand of trees clumped together, like a group of gossiping church ladies after Sunday service.    Behind me I hear the hum of fifty chattering voices bustling about, preparing to share a common meal. The crisp ocean breeze stings my cheek and wisps my hair. The salty smell simultaneously consoles and depresses me, binding me to this sacred place.    The bright sun high overhead invites me from the shadow of the doorway. The distant lapping of ocean waves calls me to traverse the short jaunt from the cold, protective building to the mystery beyond the trees. Like a teenager hesitant to break into a new crowd, anxiety rises within me a...

Being a Mom Like chirping birds announcing morn' little feet arouse the dawn.  Clanging toys and banging doors, pirates, mermaids and messy floors.  Little voices and owie toes, little sobs crying little woes.  When the day waves its goodbye, and slumber greets the heavy eye  What would I have rather done, than nurture the soul of a little one?

Tears, gut-wrenching pain, stinging rain, hurting, bottling, hurtling, tossing, cheek-burning, soul-churning, silent, wailing, dark, flailing, pain. The precipice, chasm of deep, insanity, sleep. Permanent escape. Hurling through space, tethered to... Laughter, gut-splitting pain, cleansing rain, healing, washing, hurtling, tossing, cheek-burning, soul-churning, silent, wailing, bright, flailing, laughter.

Friday was a red day.  From the moment my eyelids lifted I sensed it coming - and the day did not disappoint. Company was coming, the kids were all energy and I was in an irritable, discouraged, self-pitying mood.  The children each took their turns waving their red flag in true matadorian style. I am not an angry person. True rage is probably the sin I struggle with least. Not this day, though. The house needed to be cleaned. Rounding up the kids to help was like herding a bunch of feral cats. All afternoon I fought off tears; from guilt, frustration and the pain of biting my venomous tongue lest the awful words pooling there leak through my clenched teeth.  Company was coming and I wanted to take the time for more than surface cleaning. Murphey's Law: if I sweep it under the rug, or stuff it in a closet, or fail to sweep under the cushions, or throw it all in a back room,  that is where the company will go and all that I try to hide will be revealed. So the stre...

Oswald Chambers Challenged me today to take no thought for my life; what I will eat or drink, or what I will wear. It is easy to think that God doesn't understand, or that my cares are not really concerns or worries . Am I truly to take no thought at all? How literally should I take this instruction: Take no thought for your life... Not too literally, I should think. I have to take some thought. I have discovered poor planning costs me more money, time and stress. Responsibility means considering in advance what I am feeding my family. I do not think this is what is meant. Jesus, when he was preparing for the last supper, instructed his disciples where and how to find the room and the meal they were to share. Once again I turn to my children to learn these lessons. It is said that unless we have the faith of a child we cannot enter the Kingdom of God. So I watch them, and they rarely give much advanced thought to what the next meal is going to be. Only when their little tummies a...