Bible

I don’t want to look at what’s inside the Tupperware at the back of the fridge. But once I brave it, I’m relieved to start the task and be done with the judgment lurking behind the hummus and pimento cheese. There’s no guilt in dumping rotten food. After all, black spotted soup is obviously trash, regardless of how wonderful it was when it started out. There’s no need to remember whether or not it was supper last week or two weeks before. If you’re like me, sometimes the ooze in the container-turned-petri dish is so disgusting, even the Tupperware has to go. Can I get a witness? How delightful it is to have this task handed over to my daughter who is […]

I prefer things to be ordered, make sense and be (this is a non-negotiable) predictable. As a Type A, under-caffeinated, prematurely graying toddler mom, the unexpected is not what I welcome. Even though I live with it and its stinky, whiny reality every day. I spent a good majority of my first couple decades trying to live inside the predictable. Even if that predictable was messy, self-destructive and smelled of rotting garbage. I wanted things to stay in a safe place where I could manage them. Even my belief in an impossible-making-possible God, I wanted wrapped up so I could contain it. Watch it. Keep it where I could believe from the comfort of my small life boat. Jesus sleeping while I

Sunlight radiated through my office window, but I barely noticed. My eyes stared at the computer monitor but saw nothing, the weight of my soul pulling my attention away from emails and to-do lists. Emotionally and spiritually, I was exhausted. Why Do I Have a Disconnect in My Faith? For months, I’d felt like God was a million miles away. Prayers met with silence. I knew God heard me. His Word said so. I knew He could intervene, so why did it seem like He didn’t want to? I felt like He was a distant dad who’d handed me an instruction manual to life and then disappeared, leaving me to figure out the details. My phone vibrated me back to reality with

Lori walked into the room wearing a green business suit, legs up to her neck, thick brown hair, and a face that says two things: I’ve been there and I’m worth it. I knew at once: she had what I wanted. After talking to my friends and gaining a little courage, I approached her after a meeting. When I asked if she’d like to talk, the first thing she said was, “Let’s pray about it.” Writing a Care of God List It wasn’t long before Lori’s number in my cell phone was on the most-called (or texted) list. When I needed guidance working through a situation, I reached out. When my mind swirled like a gulf stream with obsessive or destructive thinking,