Davin and I have both had "more" written on our hearts, as God keeps doing new things. We believe He shows His glory when His children share their stories - and this is our Rayford Story.
Somewhere along the line, I became so familiar with grief and anxiety that I appreciated their presence more than the way forward into the unknown. I desired chains and sadness instead of healing and freedom from fear.
Tenacious hope fights the temptation to sink into sorrow. God provides the promises to which we can hold and the strength to do it.
Someone said to me recently, or maybe I read it somewhere, that "to those who count themselves blessed, more blessings will come." When I look back on 2018, I would name that statement as the truth which defined my days. 2018 has not been without its own share of sadnesses. Yet, when I review the year, it is in fact the blessings that stand out.
Not long after Thanksgiving festivities subside, our culture shifts to finding the nest deals and newest things. How can we keep an attitude of gratitude and counting our blessings? Here are some ways.
Immediately after tragedy struck, I couldn’t hear it. It wasn’t time. But even hard things, through healing, bring blessing. The leaves take on brighter varied hues as they die than they ever did in life... and it may take a valley to see the beauty.
Have you heard the saying, "it's like comparing apples to oranges"? This idiom means that while both are fruits, they are extremely different from each other. One of my kids is as different from his brother as their juice preferences... This post was originally posted on the Bridging The Gap blog. Expectations and realitiesAs my…
The truth is, I want to break up with you. In fact, it’s a little more intense than that: I’d like to stuff you into a box and send you deep into the ocean so no one else has to deal with you either. I’ve tried to find the best in you, to learn from you, to help others navigate relationships with you… but I’m just at my wits end right now. I’ve “had it up to here” with you.
One day, sitting across from my husband in an Italian restaurant, I noticed him fiddling with his ring. The little gold band circled around his finger as he turned it. "Why do you do that?" I asked him. "Because it's comforting to remind myself that I'm married, to think about being your husband." On August…
Before their father died, he sang a song to them which his father had sung to him. Now that he's gone, I sing to them with sweetly altered lyrics.