wall torn down to the studs
I understand the importance of living within my financial means. And now that I’m doing Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace, that concept is really being driven home. But when it comes to time and energy, I regularly live beyond my means. Everyday I’m allotted 24 hours. That’s my limit, the extent of my daily budget. But […]
My in-laws said they’d meet us. My father-in-law had a hankering for wiener schnitzel — the German version of chicken parmesan made with veal — and found this restaurant online. Jager-Haus had been around forever and had a reputation for authentic German cuisine. We drove right past it the first time, missing the sign in […]
Every day I offer up my writing, imagining the five loaves and two fish. Far too often I’m breaking up the bread before I lay it in the basket. And all I’m left with is a bunch of crumbs. I’m meting it out — this bit will go here, this bit I can blog. Too […]
I wrote this in February, the month of Aunt Laura’s birthday, but just decided to post it today. One Easter, Aunt Laura, in her Sunday dress, pearls, white pumps, and classic white hair, knelt on the floor, nose to the ground, and showed the grandkids how to roll Easter eggs with their noses. I can […]
I was an urban professional with a preference for black and steel walking into a family of colonial country plaid and floral.
Where in her life had she made the Wrong Turn? What had she done to deserve a barren womb? And where was God in all of this? What was the good of a God who controlled all things, if at best, he forgot you, or at worst, botched everything up?
Hagar had always been carried along by the current of other people’s lives. In Egypt she had been sold as a slave to the highest bidder. Abraham bought her and Sarah took her as her personal servant. They had brought her to Canaan, and then quite unexpectedly, her own body, her womb, had been called into service.
She had followed Abram on this crazy journey, leaving behind all her friends and her childhood home. She never imagined it would end this way.
The woman he loved had her arm outstretched. She was offering him the fruit, the juice still dripping down her chin. The man watched himself take a bite.
Abraham turned to his son, the rope stretched between trembling hands. Isaac looked at his father, and a hoarse whisper escaped his lips, “Father … .”
This part of being with Jesus can be exasperating. It’s like you never have a quiet moment. At times I want to shut it all out, go into a dark cave and just forget about all that need pushing its way into my personal space.