Faith

Since the founding of this beloved country several centuries ago, civil unrest and revolution have shaped the landscape of human rights among the people who walk its grounds. Sometimes, changes have been made for equality that bring about peace and solidarity to our nation. Others, in the form of idealized and extreme beliefs, have brought nothing but turmoil and violence to our nation’s people. I challenge you to think about where the emergence of social media exists on this spectrum. How does this play into the spread of love vs. hate? How does this open platform for each and every one of us to speak whatever is on our hearts and minds at any given time effect the narrative of a nation […]

My grandson and I were seated at a well-worn picnic table, having lunch with a hundred people from all over the country who had come to his Haiti home for a week of ministry. Josiah had just turned eight months old and I was holding him so his mama could eat without his cuteness squirming in her lap and grabbing at her plate. I placed him beside me on the bench, wrapped my arm around his chest to keep him safe, and watched as he became engrossed with knotholes in the wood between his chubby little legs and bare toes. He traced the first one he found over and over and I felt I literally could see his little brain wheels turning

On the very first day of the new year, there are aches pressing on my want-to-start-the-year-afresh heart. Holiday wounds to my spirit haven’t yet dissipated. Gut-wrenching news coverage continues relentlessly. A friend’s tears leak through the phone after she learned her daughter’s lifelong best friend lost her husband unexpectedly while he was on a business trip the week before Christmas. Things around the house start breaking. Again. Haunting my holiday-tapped budget and any energy I might have mustered up to tackle the new year with fresh resolve. Another year starting hard. How many others, I wonder. How many women—strong women—are out there who feel a new year doesn’t mean a new year, just a continuation of last year with its wearying ups

My memories from childhood run together like a ripple in that old creek behind our home … it is impossible to distinguish the ripple from the current, but it is all being pulled in the same direction. Such is life; if you blink you might miss it, so they say. They said I didn’t learn to ride a bike until I was ten years old. It is difficult to steer through the hallways and waiting rooms of a hospital, crowded by children wearing masks, scarfs, and pain. These are not the things I remember. I do remember a sister who was born dying. Cancer. I remember parents who although were they hurting, did not question God or resent His plan for their

With the ante of life’s busyness increasing on our family of four every year, my husband and I decided to implement the discipline of incorporating a day of rest into our week. This desire not only originates from our faith but also the awareness that if we don’t really put this into practice, we will cease to thrive as a family. Work, school, and extracurricular activities keep us ever moving in a variety of directions Monday through Friday. Then, adding the demands not foreseen, we are left with little to no time for recovery, inevitably crashing by the time the weekend rolls around. The Bible teaches that even God chose to rest after His work of creation, and we are foolish to