Personal Growth

Autumn leaves fall like confetti around our Kentucky home. The trees stand tall and brave as they let go of their identity. No longer are they recognized as an oak or a maple, but just an ordinary tree. They bare themselves in vulnerability to the watching world. The brightly colored leaves hold on as long as they can, but creation knows when it’s time to surrender. All eyes watch as they brace for the winds of change. Oh how beautifully they dance to their grave. The frost is coming. On one particular morning last winter, I woke up early. Coffee in hand, I gazed outside to see the ground covered in white. It was the first snow of the season and I […]

There are women who come and go in our lives, some leave a lasting impact, and some don’t. But then there is a whole different category of those who leave an indelible mark on you… without you really even knowing it—until they are no longer with you. As I mourned the loss of my grandma, I became fully aware of how much she had impacted me. Funny how a life speaks louder to you after they are gone. The day after Grandma had passed, my mom and her four sisters were planning the service and I received a text from Mom asking if I’d like to share anything. Honestly—my first reaction and my actual response was this: “No, I feel like the

Do you have talent? Undoubtedly… undisputedly… undeniably… unconditionally… the answer is yes! The Lord says in Exodus 31:3, “and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills.” And just in case some may think He wasn’t talking to us in the present day, 2 Timothy 3:16-17 tells us that “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” Great news! The Bible is still relevant, and God created each of us with unique skills and abilities called talent. Each of us will have opportunity upon opportunity to use this

I hear the sand crunch under my tires as I make the last left turn toward home. My house, the last one on this dead-end road, doesn’t see a lot of traffic. I drive down the left side of the road so I can pull up to my mailbox and get my mail without leaving my car. I do this most days, most every day I have lived in this house. Today, after placing my car in neutral, after reaching into the mouth of my mailbox and retrieving its contents, after placing the stack on the empty seat beside me, I just sit. Perched at the end of my driveway, I take a long look at our little house dressed in gray