Innholdsfortegnelse for May/June 2023 i Mornings with Jesus

What's in a name? I've been thinking about it ever since a call last week with my niece Rachael, who has been going through a hard time over the last few months. Prior to this call, Rachael spent some time with us and attended the morning worship service at Abbey of Regina Laudis, a wonderful community of godly women close to where I live. There, Rachael gazed upon the Stations of the Cross, a series of fourteen devotions, or stations, that focus on specific events of Jesus's last day. At the Abbey, the images depicted sheep and were forged by one of the nuns, who is a blacksmith. During that call, Rachael told me that it was a profound moment for her, that she'd never felt more grounded in her…

ON SPECIAL OCCASIONS, MY HUSBAND makes me eggs Benedict for breakfast. It's an undertaking of love—with a lot of steps and plenty of cleanup afterward. Recognizing the special treat for what it is, I stop whatever I'm doing so I can be in the moment for that first bite. As it passes my lips, I close my eyes to increase my sense of taste. I savor every flavor and texture: the crunchy English muffin, the juicy Canadian bacon, the fluffy poached eggs, and the creamy hollandaise sauce. It's like a symphony of flavors perfectly blended together. Once I've taken that first bite, however, the magic begins to fade. It got me wondering why. After much thought, I determined the fault lies with me. I only stop to focus on that…

NOTHING COULD HAVE PREPARED ME for the FaceTime call that Friday morning. My mother had just been diagnosed with an emergency, life-threatening condition. The doctor gave her twenty minutes to discuss her course of treatment with family. When Mom's face appeared on my phone screen, I knew she'd already made her decision. She explained the risks involved in immediate surgery and the low likelihood of cure. Mom wanted to let nature take its course. Hospice was called, and immediate family members took turns sitting at Mom's bedside day and night. We held her hand and told her we loved her and would miss her. My pain was intense. At the same time, I felt an undeniable sense of anticipation on Mom's behalf. She'd placed her faith in Jesus in her…

OUR CITY CONSTRUCTED A CORDONED-OFF boardwalk along a road near an area of wetlands. At both ends of the boardwalk, signs warn, “Slippery when wet.” Those entering the wooden path had fair warning. In the middle of the special path, there is an overlook to pause and watch herons and red-wing blackbirds. Another bold sign at that spot again alerts people the boards can be slippery. My husband and I chuckled about the redundancy. Since one can only enter the boardwalk from either of the two ends, walkers have already been warned. What good does a sign in the middle do? But the truth is, when a path is hazardous, we might need another reminder. People are quick to forget; I know I am. I've noticed the same need for…

I SUFFER FROM SEVERE MIGRAINES and sometimes have transient aphasia, commonly called “migraine babble,” meaning I speak gibberish. One spring, our daughter-in-law, Erin, went into labor at twentynine weeks' gestation. Due to cord prolapse, she lost the baby. Our family was devastated. My tiny grandson's death wrenched me back thirty years. Our three-year-old son, Blake, had died suddenly from meningitis. I'm usually strong in a crisis, but the sadness, grief, and sudden emotional trauma sent me into a tailspin. Reliving Blake's death was devastating, but contemplating the journey that lay ahead for my son and his wife was worse. I felt a migraine coming on. Distraught, I cried, Lord, I can't do this! Suddenly, my words came out garbled. Not only was my heart breaking, but I also had a…

“YOU WILL HAVE TROUBLE.” NOT, “you may have trouble,” or “you'll have trouble if you do this and that.” We will have trouble. Can I get an “Amen”? I've had more trouble than many and less trouble than others. Some of the trouble was out of my control. With my remarkable parents, who struggled with mental illness and addiction, trouble was bound to happen. Having a child with Down syndrome brought trouble in the form of health challenges. But my troubles are nothing compared to those of my Jesus. Jesus was preparing to face trouble the likes of which the disciples never imagined when He spoke these words in John 16. He'd not yet faced his trial or suffered the mocking, beating, and degradation at the hands of the Jews…

ONE OF THE THINGS I miss because of my current work schedule is playing the piano for our local high school choir and high school musicians who prepared solos, duets, and ensembles for regional and state competitions. I don't consider myself an accomplished pianist, so the privilege of accompanying them and being by the students' side during competition came with its share of stress. But I enjoyed being exposed to a wide range of music from classical to pop. I also enjoyed being with these teen musicians. Not just musical connections with them, but emotional and hormonal highs and lows. Off-key, off-tempo, and unpracticed for some. Soaring and stirring performances for others. I remember one of my favorites was a Gregorian piece in Latin—a duet by two very accomplished young…

I ATTENDED A THREE-DAY CHRISTIAN renewal weekend several years ago. We needed to leave our phones behind, but other than that, I didn't know what to expect. I was surprised by the many small kindnesses shown to the participants. Held in a rustic campground, our luggage was waiting in our rooms soon after we arrived. I found encouraging notes or little gifts in my seat after breaks. I was so touched by the tiny, repeated kindnesses that happened to me there. I felt seen, valued, and loved. People can be rather indifferent to each other in our culture. I know I get caught up in my own little world and what I need to do as I go about my day. As if I'm on a mission, I sometimes fail…

AS SOON AS THEY'RE OLD enough, I assign my kids chores to help out around the house. My youngest, Jocelyn, is currently responsible for sorting the laundry. After school, she has to dampen a few cloths, toss them into the dryer with the clothes that have been sitting there, and turn the dryer on for a few minutes to fluff the load and get the wrinkles out. Then, she sorts the clothes into piles according to their owner, all while being sure not to wrinkle them again. Once she delivers the piles, each person is responsible for folding and putting away his or her own clothes. It is such a joy to walk into my laundry room and find the baskets and dryer blissfully empty! Sometimes, the juggling act of…

A POND AT THE EDGE of a nearby town is often a good place to spot swans. Swans are so elegant, so beautiful, and so full of life lessons. How much like baby swans—cygnets—we humans are! Away from their mom or dad, cygnets are virtually defenseless. If a baby is separated from its parents in the early weeks, its ability to procure food diminishes, too, because the parents lead their offspring to food sources. Cygnets can't afford to get too cold or too hot. They often shelter from direct sunlight beneath their mother's wings. Or they “burrow” underneath her feathers or stand in her umbrella-like shade, since Mom can sleep standing up. If the water in which the cygnets swim is too cool, they can climb onto the adult swan's…

I STEPPED OUTSIDE FOR MY morning walk and saw dark clouds forming to the west. It had been an unusually wet spring, and I was tired of the constant threat of rain ruining my routine. Surely I can beat the shower this time, I thought as I turned away from the clouds and began my three-mile route. Ten minutes later, I felt the first sprinkles and quickened my pace, but after another half-mile, the storm was upon me. “Jesus, help me get home fast,” I whispered, but I immediately sensed an unexpected answer to my prayer. “No, meet Me here.” Here? In the middle of a storm? I laughed at the irony. Of course Jesus wanted me to meet Him here. He's in the middle of every storm. I slowed…

I WAS READY TO PULL out my hair! My internet connection was intermittent, and I'd been on the phone for more than an hour troubleshooting with technical support. Unfortunately, I'm not the most tech-savvy person, and following suggestions for a fix only made matters worse. Finally (I imagine because they deemed me hopeless), the cable company rep agreed to send out a technician. A clean-cut young man knocked on my door. Bright-eyed and brimming with enthusiasm and professional courtesy, he quickly identified the problem. Once he made the repair, he tested his fix to ensure it worked. Seeing people operate within their gift, doing what they love and are graced to do, is exciting. Some tasks I do with dazzling effectiveness and joy. Others, like technology, are not my passion.…

I FELL YESTERDAY. PHYSICALLY, NOT spiritually. It's been a long time since I'd hit the ground hard like that. I used to fall several times a day, a decade ago, following a neurological injury that left me deaf in one ear and often feeling dizzy. Doctors tried to diagnose it, but they never could. They prescribed medicine and sent me home. The most helpful treatment was vestibular rehabilitation (balance training). Through repetition of a series oi exercises, the connections between my brain and body were reinforced. I went from many falls a day to weeks and finally months between falls. Yesterday's fall resulted from squatting too long while observing my bees, then standing and turning all at once, instead of in two separate motions, as I'd been taught in balance…

ALL FOUR GOSPELS RECORD THE presence of the women who stood watch during Jesus's crucifixion. These devoted followers had traveled with Him and ministered to His needs. Now they stood helpless to intervene, their hearts breaking from sorrow. A couple of women stayed on after almost everyone else had left the scene. Mary Magdalene and Mary, mother of James and Joseph, watched Jesus's body being taken down from the cross and wrapped in linen. They followed to the tomb where He was buried and saw the stone rolled across the opening. Sometimes faith means watching and waiting. Even after all hope has been lost. Even when it seems as though our world has crumbled and there's nothing to wait for. A frightening medical diagnosis, a broken relationship, the sudden loss…

I SURVEYED THE LAWN. Dozens of buttery-yellow flowers bore witness to my neglect. Dandelions. Some had already gone to seed, their fluffy white heads teasing, as if waiting for the child in me to pull a stem and blow. I fought the temptation, despite a list of wishes I'd love to have made. I know well the trouble that comes when I fixate on desires. One hunger begets another—and another. Soon, I'd focus on my wants. Shoes calling to me from the shop; dream vacations beckoning. There were many ways I let Jesus know His plan for me wasn't quite enough. Had I done that too much lately? Had I forgotten the myriad blessings Jesus has already granted me? He has given me a world filled with joy and love…

I DIDN'T EXPECT DRAMA IN the parking lot. Three spots were open in a row, so I pulled into the center one. I remained in the car for a few minutes, checking messages on my phone. When an SUV parked to my left, I glanced up briefly and continued reading. Then, wham! I jolted at the impact of metal slamming into metal. My head spun left to see the heavy SUV door resting against the mirror of my Volkswagen. I glared through the window at a woman in the passenger seat. Her mouth formed an “O,” and she slapped her hand over it. She yanked her door back a notch and climbed out. I got out too. “Oh! I am so sorry!” the woman exclaimed. “I didn't know anyone was…

MY KIDS WANT THEIR CHILDREN to grow into capable, responsible members of society. With that in mind, one of their parenting techniques is to post chore charts on the fridge. Chores are assigned based on kids' ages and abilities. A four-year-old might be told to help empty the dishwasher, while a seven-year-old might be expected to feed the chickens and put them in their coop for the night. My kids would never blindly assign chores to be done independently by children incapable of performing them. Doing so would be unkind and would guarantee failure. They train their children before turning them loose to do their work on their own. This gives their little ones the best opportunity to succeed. Jesus tends to us like responsible parents tend to their children.…

BECAUSE BALD EAGLES NEST NEAR our home, I often see them fly by our kitchen window. But only for a moment and then they're gone, just like a recent offer we received on a property we were hoping to sell. The first day after we listed it, a bid for more than the asking price arrived. I found myself daydreaming about living on a boat and scuba diving off the coast of Belize, updating my out-of-date wardrobe, and taking my husband, Zane, out for a fancy dinner. I glanced at riches. (Well, more than glanced.) The next day the buyer rescinded his offer. Interest rates were going up, and he couldn't make financial sense of it. Poof—the riches sprouted wings and flew away like the eagles that darted past my…

AS A MOTHER OF MANY (ten children), I find myself on my knees every day in prayer. I have adult children who need prayer for work and relationships. I have teens who need prayer as they plan for their future and discover their unique, God-given identity. I have elementary-age children who need prayer for school and friends. The more family members, the more needs. Taking the needs of my loved ones before Jesus is more than simply rattling off a prayer list. It starts by humbling myself before Him. When I humble myself, I turn over my worries and trust that Jesus is the answer. I know He will hear, provide, and bless me. The word “bless” was influenced by the Hebrew word brk, which means to bend, which implies…

FOR YEARS, MY SISTER, ELAINE, has asked me to pray for her son, my godson, Brendon. As he seemingly drifted from one college to another, struggling to find his path in life, her heart ached. Brendon jumped from one major to the next, dropped out of college for a while, traveled around the United States, and volunteered for some overseas mission work. When he finally graduated from his third university with a degree in communications and media, he was still uncertain of what job he envisioned having. Elaine recently sent me a video of Brendon being interviewed on Facebook while on a Christian mission in Lebanon. When prompted by the reporter to recount his faith story, Brendon went on to explain how at each college and seeming detour along the…

MY HUSBAND, SCOTT, IS A pastor, and together we have shared his ministry for twenty-three years. I'd taught Sunday school and was on the worship team before we married, so being a leader at church has shaped my life. It's who I am. How I define myself. Two years ago, we left the San Francisco Bay area church we'd planted fifteen years earlier and moved to Idaho. Scott took a position in a large company to follow his passion for marketing. But the 180-degree turn left me feeling uncertain what my next step would be. Ministry, paid or not, was my career. I went from leading on the platform to sitting in the pew. I felt like I was having an identity crisis. If I wasn't a pastor's wife or…

ONE OF MY FAVORITE NECKLACES is shaped like a butterfly, its wings filled with glittering beads that resemble genuine peridots. While I paced and prayed one morning, I glanced down and noticed the metal frame of the necklace had broken in two places. Rats. I thought I'd ask my husband to fix it with special glue he uses to repair everything from ceramics to shoes. But when I looked closer, I realized the cracked places were visible only from my perspective. Sometimes I feel too broken for Jesus to use me and my life. I look at others with their seemingly perfect, powerful ministries and think I'll never have it all together like they do. But that's when Jesus whispers to my heart, “No one sees your broken places but…

I'VE QUOTED IT, BELIEVED IT, counted on it, and taught it. Jesus was “full of grace and truth.” Today, though, it's resonating in a new way. Some people are full of themselves, full of baloney, up to their eyeballs in work, full to the brim with ideas, or have had it “up to here” with their kids/boss/neighbor. But Jesus? He was full of grace and truth. At the same time. If we're to grow into Christ-likeness, logic tells us the same mix of truth and grace should be our lifelong goal. All truth and no grace is religiosity. All grace and no truth is misguided. It's a beautiful, awe-inspiring, divine blend that warranted the description of Jesus in Scripture. It's the same blend that sets a person apart in this…

THIS SATURDAY MORNING, I AM standing in front of my church to direct visitors to a vaccination clinic we're hosting. During a lull, I turn to admire the beloved red-brick building I've entered and exited hundreds of times over more than three decades. As I look up, I notice a stone tablet sitting high at the top of each of the two stately pillars at the entrance. Each tablet is inscribed with scripture—one is Psalm 27:1; the other is John 3:16. I'm amazed I've never noticed the tablets before. Maybe I've not seen them because I'm often rushing in or out and I fail to slow down enough to take in my surroundings. Also, I rarely stand still at the entrance, so I don't have the viewpoint needed to see…

WITH THE LARGE FAMILY WE have, I created an online, ready-made grocery shopping list. With one click, all of the typical items we buy are put into our virtual cart, and I scan down the list to see if there is anything we don't need. Recently, I've created a “Hoping List.” These are scriptures that I turn to when my hope is gone. When I am discouraged, I read verses that remind me that the Lord delivers me out of my troubles (Psalm 34:17–19) and He is close to the brokenhearted (Psalm 147:3). When I am overwhelmed, I read that I can cast my burdens to the Lord (Psalm 55:22). When I am weary, I am reminded that those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength (Isaiah 40:31).…

SPRING WAS PUSHING UP THROUGH the remnants of a long Midwest winter. We'd recently moved from our home in Arkansas to this house in Indiana. I'd never experienced so many months of cold weather. But this morning, I noticed miniature daffodil buds brightened my flower bed. Nearby, tulip shoots showed their greenery too. I couldn't believe it! Gifts of nature that my Savior knew would surprise and delight me when I doubted. I love the first sightings of spring bulbs. When crocuses poke through the dirt, I anticipate daffodils soon to come. When those emerge, I know tulips are on their way. I've always wanted a plethora of them, but we'd never stayed in the same house long enough to get them well established in the yard. When our family…

I'VE EXPERIENCED THE CASTING PROCESS for a prosthetic arm numerous times in my life, yet never six times in one day. Alabama State University needed a patient model with upper-extremity limb loss. Being born without a left elbow, forearm, and hand, I allowed prosthetics students to practice making arms for me. The first student covered my torso and legs with plastic to protect my clothes. He slipped a tight, cotton sleeve over my upper arm and secured it with a chest strap. Then, he dipped some plaster bandaging in warm water and wrapped it around my arm and shoulder. As the plaster dried, he applied pressure to ensure a snug fit. After ten minutes, he wiggled the cast free from the cotton sleeve and pulled it off. Each student repeated…

LAST WEEK, WHEN MY DAUGHTER suffered a severe head cold, she temporarily lost her sense of smell. She said it made cooking difficult because she was unable to discern one seasoning from another. Chili powder and other heady spices were odorless to her, causing her to believe they'd be flavorless and of no use. Matthew 5:13-14 says we're the salt and light in the world. I take this to mean we are always to do good and be a positive influence in the world by being morally upright and sharing the message of Jesus. This seems a daunting responsibility. I can recognize “salt and light,” which is spiritual maturity, in others around me. But in myself? Not always so much. During a recent searching conversation with my friend Brooke about…

ONE OF MY FRIENDS CONNECTS with me periodically and always asks the same question: “Are you still enjoying life on the sailboat, or are you ready to move back into a house?” My answer never changes. “Moving onto a sailboat wasn't something we did by our own volition. We did it because Jesus said to do it, and we're here to stay until He tells us otherwise.” My friend cannot fathom how I can live in tiny quarters with few earthly belongings and remain happy, especially in winter. Truthfully, I can't understand it either apart from Jesus giving me joy. Jesus promised His disciples that He would fill them with overflowing joy if they obeyed Him. I've experienced the fulfillment of this promise. I constantly marvel at the opportunity to…

LAST FALL, I WAS INVITED to speak at a retreat for my women's group at our new church. I was a little nervous. It is one thing to speak to a group of unknown people, but if my presentation didn't go well, I'd have to see these women again. I've shared before, even once at the church where my husband, Scott, used to be the pastor. “Once” is the key word here. It was a small group. No one laughed at my stories. Scott said he'd heard them before. (I reminded him that I always laugh at his stories even though I have heard them many, many times.) Then there was the lady in the back row who fell asleep, head thrown back, mouth gaping open. I was uncomfortable, sweaty,…

WHEN MY ADULT DAUGHTER, MELISSA, who'd had an endoscopic procedure, asked if I had any soft food she could eat, I found a container of chocolate pudding at the back of my fridge. Melissa's eyes closed in ecstasy as the cool chocolate slid down her sore throat. Casually turning the carton over in her hands, she screamed, “MOM, THIS PUDDING EXPIRED TWO YEARS AGO! Are you trying to poison me?” Melissa and her sister, Brooke, delight in rummaging through my pantry and fridge, searching for expired items, and apparently with good reason. Once they found a carton of milk that had an expiration date from the previous day. From their shrieks of horror, you would have thought they'd seen a rat. Thankfully, Jesus doesn't have a use-by date. Sometimes, when…

AS HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATION APPROACHED, I found myself trying to teach my son all of the life skills I felt he still needed to learn before he left for college. Once I showed him how to do something new, I expected him to immediately apply that knowledge and be proficient. Clearly, my expectation was unrealistic. I can be impatient with other people's development. Thankfully, Jesus doesn't respond the same way. When He recruited His disciples, they were not instantly the scholars, preachers, missionaries, teachers, evangelists, and martyrs that I read about in the Bible. In fact, they were self-centered (Matthew 18:1-4), unreliable (Matthew 26:36-45), and hot-tempered (Matthew 26:47-54). It was only after they followed Jesus, made mistakes, and learned tough lessons along the way that they developed into the “fishers…

THE WORD RECOUNT HAS ECHOED through my mind this past year. As the whole world focused on life during and after quarantine, our family had pressing issues that had nothing to do with a worldwide pandemic. We discovered our teen daughter needed more help for emotional trauma than we could give. As awareness of her needs increased, I became desperate for help. I sought counselors and programs to help my daughter. I also sought counseling help for myself. In my need for help and answers, I made a list of all the ways Jesus has helped and guided our family. No matter how challenging things have been, Jesus has never failed us. When I feel emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted, recounting Jesus's provision has helped me to hang on when…

FOR AS LONG AS I can remember, I've heard people in my faith circles end their prayers with, “In Jesus's name, amen.” I've done the same thing, often with little thought about what that really means. Things changed when I was researching and writing a Bible study about the names of God. I learned that the name “Jesus” means “the Lord is salvation,” but the Bible contains more than two hundred other names to describe Him. One of my favorites is “Shepherd.” A good shepherd provides pasture for grazing. He ensures protection from pests that would “bug” his sheep and prevent them from getting proper rest. He'll do everything possible to help them thrive because he cares about them. Understanding a shepherd's role helps me better understand Jesus's role in…

DOCTORS CIRCLED THE HOSPITAL BED where my husband awaited a diagnosis. Initial testing was complete. “Acute myeloid leukemia,” the lead doctor stated. Russ was admitted to the cancer center for a month. We were crushed. We didn't want the cup we'd been handed. Only three weeks prior, Russ had retired from law enforcement and hung up his uniform for the last time. Now he was weak and defenseless in a flimsy hospital gown. Despite my best efforts to encourage him, he felt utterly alone. Sometimes I did too, even though I knew my Savior watched with compassion. Utterly alone, Jesus asked that His cup be taken from Him in the Garden of Gethsemane (Luke 22:42). Interestingly, Gethsemane means “olive press.” Just as olives are pressed and crushed to extract their…

SOMEONE RECENTLY SHARED THE PRAYER hack of setting several smartphone alarms as a reminder to routinely think about Jesus throughout the day. Initially, the idea of hearing several blaring alarms turned me off. The sudden, jarring noise always catches me off guard and evokes stress. My shoulders tense up, and I'm worse off than before. Regardless, the idea kept ringing in my mind. I have a solid morning prayer routine, but the peace I found there quickly unraveled as the day progressed. I decided the alarm idea was worth a shot. I ruled out every ringtone until I listened to chimes. Comforting, soothing, and melodious, it was a call to prayer that I'd like to answer. Every day at 9 a.m., 12 p.m., 3 p.m., and 6 p.m., the beautiful…

MY DEAR FRIEND VIVIEN HAD died, and I was selecting an outfit to wear to her visitation. Viv was an impeccable dresser. Her clothes were fashionable and well-tailored, her jewelry tasteful. To honor my friend, I wanted to look sharp. I chose navy pants with navy kitten heels and a silky top in a pattern of navy, rust, and gold. A new pair of navy earrings completed my ensemble. As I got dressed, I prayed for Jesus to give me words of comfort for Viv's children. I stepped out of the car at the funeral home and straightened my clothes. When I looked down, I was horrified! My pants were black instead of navy. Too late to go back and change, I slunk inside. Viv's daughter met me at the…

AS I OPENED MY EYES in the early morning light, I heard the familiar sound of my husband shuffling around the house in his slippers. I immediately thought of Hal's father who did the same thing. Dad Walls lived with us for the last four years of his life before the Lord called him home to heaven. My father-in-law, who was in his late nineties, used to drag his feet slowly when he walked. While Dad Walls was with us, I started to notice how much my husband was like his father. Not only did they walk and talk alike, but the two also had similar body types and idiosyncrasies. I marveled at how Hal's parents knew to wait until my husband was born to name him, instead of his…

THE SUN RISES AND SETS, the moon shines in the sky, and the world continues its rotation around the sun. As the seasons advance, days lengthen from one to the next, the change imperceptible but undeniable. And then at last, the summer solstice arrives. The longest day of the year. This has fast become one of my favorite days, and I get excited. As an avid gardener, it represents the heart of the growing season to me. Seedlings stretch skyward, bees bounce from blossom to blossom, and the sun shines bright. Within weeks, harvest will begin. As I considered Earth's slow but steady change and how it benefits my plants, I sensed an invitation from Jesus. Maybe I could turn certain behaviors around gradually, just as our planet does. This…

THE SHEEP IN MY LONG-AGO flock were excellent followers. I sometimes gave them treats but not often enough they would count on them. I hoped to create a strong relationship between shepherd and animal. I wanted the ewes to see me as a provider and protector, the source of their safety and well-being, and not some sort of sheep Santa—only good for handouts. Many in the herd trusted me, and I believe they saw me as their source and protector. They alerted quickly, noticing my presence, while staying in place, their bodies relaxed. They looked toward my face, not my hands. Farah was one of my most memorable ewes. When I entered the pasture, she trotted over to greet me. Like a puppy, she dogged my steps—following hard after me.…

I DON'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT gardening, but I love how flowers brighten up a home. So I planted daisies, flowers I was told could flourish in a hot climate. At first, they were lush and vibrant. But soon, I got busy and forgot to water my flowerpots. Eventually, the daisies withered and died. Later, I found one stem was even separated from the root. How did I expect anything to grow without water? In John 15, Jesus told the disciples to stay connected to Him in order to thrive. He was the “vine,” their life source, and they were his “branches.” As branches, they would produce “fruit.” They were “offshoots” of the Savior. Since Jesus's ministry was productive, their ministries would be productive too. How they lived their lives directly…

AFTER READING THIS PROVERB, I made a mental list of wise people I could spend time with. Then the realization jumped to mind that Jesus is the wisest companion anyone could have. But how do I walk with Him? What does that look like on a practical level? First, I can walk with Jesus through descriptions of His actions in the Gospels. I can read about what mattered to Him, how He responded to each situation, how He showed His love. Second, I can spend time with others in the body of Christ—His church. Although none of us live out the love of Jesus perfectly, I often see glimpses of His nature in others. Jesus appears in the generosity of a friend who gave a gift to cheer me, in…

A LOVED ONE RECENTLY REMARKED that my son Pierce was graceful. When I asked her to explain, she said he moved with elegance, delicacy, and beauty. People have said I'm a gracious hostess. This translates into my desire for guests to feel comfortable and cared for. That kind of grace, in movement and action, is not always entirely easy for me to explain in words, but I know it when I see it. It's also hard for me to wrap my mind around the spiritual concept of grace. Simply put, grace is unmerited favor. It's a spontaneous gift—unexpected, undeserved, and totally free. Nothing I can do or say can earn it, nor do I deserve it. My effort can't gain it, no matter how good and righteous I am. Grace…

JERSEY STOOD STILL IN FRONT of the bowl I'd filled with kibble that morning. Only weeks ago, the tinkling of dry food hitting the cat's ceramic dish summoned him like a dinner bell. The scraggly white stray with black patches of fur (like Jersey cattle) had found me on my front porch enjoying a spring evening. Most likely, someone had dumped him near our rural home. My heart couldn't resist his hungry meows, so I fed the little guy from the stash I kept for visits from my grandkitties. Which, of course, as anyone who has ever fed a stray cat knows, made me the new owner of a cat. The next morning, Jersey devoured a can of wet food. And so began his mealtime routine: gravy-covered, canned morsels in…

RAIN WAS PREDICTED IN THE forecast again today. We'd already had four days of gloom. It was starting to deeply affect my energy level and attitude. I was desperate to see the blue of the sky and feel the warmth of the sun. Suddenly, the temperature dropped, changing the moisture into snow—the mystical kind with white, fluffy flakes that gently blanketed the earth in a kind of hush. My mood transformed just as quickly. The child in me came alive, and pure glee bubbled up. Like a giddy kid, I was enchanted by the wonder of it all. In dark days, when I yearn to find and feel the Son, Jesus shows up. The temperature of my circumstances may be uncomfortably high, but just like the same moisture is present…

ONLY FOUR OTHER GUESTS OCCUPIED the oceanfront hotel that starless night, and I assumed they lay dreaming of seashells and breaching whales. It was half-past three as I opened the room's window to allow the seaside sounds entry. In the midst of the blackness outside, the inn had installed a floodlight facing the sea. It highlighted the waves, changing them from onyx to midnight blue, the foam a soft shade of gray, the tide high in an eloquent show of nature's passion. A seagull flew out over the water, followed by three more. Then the entire flock circled, a fluid ballet on the wind, a ribbon of life skimming the seaway. As they headed north, my throat tightened and my eyes blurred with tears. Something extraordinary had occurred, possibly the…

MY MOTHER FULFILLED A HOST of roles in my growing-up years: seamstress, chauffeur, cook, nurse, cheerleader, guidance counselor, and more. The majority of her positions changed as my siblings and I grew up, left home to pursue our dreams, and started our own families, but Mom's role as intercessor remained until she started her final journey toward heaven. Mom was a woman of prayer. This irked me when I was a teenager who wanted to follow the desires of my heart, rather than do what was right. The last thing I wanted to hear was, “Grace, I'm praying that you'll listen to Jesus and change your ways.” I knew Mom's prayers were powerful. Fighting them was pointless. I was a freshman in Bible college before I began to appreciate the…

I RECENTLY JOINED AN ONLINE women's group whose purpose is to help women discover a two-word mission statement. I logged in to a website and answered a series of questions. From my answers, I received “Inspire Hope” as my mission statement. I was skeptical, but after further exploration in our sessions, I was surprised at how suitable the word was for me. Hope has been a consistent theme through my life. When I was in college, my password to draw funds out of my account was “hope” because I hoped I wasn't overdrawn. The painful memory of my older alcoholic brother, who committed suicide, instilled in me the crucial need of hope for life. I believe his lack of hope for his future led to his lack of desire to…

“DIDN'T YOU HEAR THEM?” MY husband asked when I returned from a morning walk. He was talking about the cicadas, flying insects that had invaded our section of North America. That spring, billions of them had surfaced. Seeing the swarms litter the streets and grassy areas made me think of the plague of locusts that God sent to persuade Pharaoh to let the Israelites leave Egypt (Exodus 10:4). I hadn't yet heard the buzzing that morning, but later the next day, I detected some low chirping. Then the sound got louder. Finally, the racket from the crickets-on-steroids was nearly deafening—like someone was mowing the lawn. Constantly. When I went outside, I saw cicadas flying around, covering sidewalks, some dead and some alive. There was no mistaking their presence now. That's…

TODAY, I'M PAINTING THE LITTLE library my daughter and son-inlaw built for our yard and, ultimately, for the neighborhood. I can't wait for neighbors to come by and take a book or leave a book. I want the structure to complement our historic home, so I'm adding a few touches to its styling—some Victorian trim, a cedarshake roof, and colors that match our house. I'll set it up near the rosebushes bordering my quiet lane. With every brushstroke, I'm contemplating which tides to place on the shelves. I have more than enough to fill it. This wonderful gift, so well-chosen for a lover of the printed word, houses a responsibility along with the books I'll place inside. Every title and word will need to balance with my ethics, or better…

AS A BEEKEEPER, I'M GRATEFUL for every teaspoon of honey I collect and consume. I also enjoy giving it away, knowing how healthy it is. Honey is a miraculous substance. Did you know it was found in the tombs of the Egyptians, thousands of years old, and still edible? When kept properly, honey never spoils. It's used for medicinal purposes such as healing infections and alleviating allergies. Honey contains water, vitamins, minerals, and necessary enzymes to give the body energy, making it one of the only known foods with all the ingredients to keep us alive. Proverbs 16:24 compares our words to honey. Words are also lifegiving. Many scriptures admonish us to use our tongues wisely. In Proverbs alone, more than seventeen verses direct us to use words for healing,…

YEARS AGO, I VISITED MY brother-in-law during his basic training, and I was enthralled. The barracks filled my vision, an army of identical dormitories lined up like soldiers ready for battle. How could anyone feel comfortable in such a sterile environment? Like the anonymous caserns where the soldiers resided, their lifestyles also reflected a monotonous uniformity and discipline. But the individuals walking the grounds were unique in invisible ways. While one might struggle with physical pain, another battled homesickness. As one spent sleepless nights praying for courage, another celebrated a promotion. So many differences, yet they all shared one characteristic—a willingness to defend the freedom of America, their beloved country above all else. I left the fort impressed. Jesus possesses that depth of love and shares it freely. When He…

I CALL MY MOTHER A few times each week to check in with her. Mom lives in an assisted living community. Our conversations always start the same way. “Hi, Mom. How are you doing?” But one day, her reply caught me off guard. Instead of answering, “I'm doing just fine,” Mom said, “I'm happy as a hot dog!” We both erupted with laughter. “I have my health. I have a nice, clean place to live and good food to eat,” she said. “What more could I ask for? Honey, I'm so wonderfully blessed.” A good hot dog certainly makes me happy, so Mom's giddy, unconventional reply made perfect sense to me. My octogenarian mother recognizes the blessings in her life, both large and small. Like the writer of Ecclesiastes, she's…

OUR CONGREGATION WAS HOLDING AN outdoor service in front of our church building. Pastoral personnel and the music team stood on a platform. The day was sunny, and my heart was full as I worshiped. Then the wind picked up. A few sheets of music blew off the music stands. Staff scrambled to gather them and return them to the instrumentalists. Stronger gusts rattled nearby trees. One music stand tipped over. More pages scattered. My gaze followed a sheet of music as it swirled higher and higher, over the rooftop of the church. In spite of the challenges, our service continued. Soon it was time for the Scripture reading. A volunteer opened her Bible and read the sermon theme for the day, “The wind blows wherever it pleases.” The congregation…

WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF an Indiana cicada summer. The flying beasts are everywhere and they're loud. While I acknowledge the miracle of their seventeen-year hatch cycle, I wish they'd have selfawareness and stop offering so much unsolicited input. The world can be a noisy place, and I'm not just speaking about bugs. I'm bombarded with sensory overload, as opinions, beliefs, and ideas zoom my way and dive-bomb me out of nowhere, just like those noisy, annoying cicadas. Processing information in the media, social media, or even in conversations with friends or family members can become especially difficult if I sense mixed motives behind someone's words. This noise can spin my thoughts and cause confusion to the point that I might feel off-balance. The enemy of my soul is noisy…

MY NEIGHBOR HEIDI RECENTLY TOOK a new job at a gardening center and is now on a mission to rescue plants in need of a little TLC. She knows I have a green thumb, and yesterday she gave me a needy salvia plant to see if I could save it. Salvia usually has perky green leaves and bright purple flower spikes, but part of this one was wilted, and the other part had turned crispy brown. After a good soak in the kitchen sink overnight, I gently cut away the dead leaves and charred blossoms. Water, sunlight, and nutrients from the soil could now work toward restoration. Jesus does the same with me. When areas of my life are not thriving or growing the way they should, He removes or…

AFTER LIMPING BY WITH AN ancient septic tank, we realized the time had come to update to a mound system, or so the county told us. We've been waiting almost nine months now. We had to save a long time to afford it. Then when we had the money in hand, it was too late in the year to dig and ensure that grass seed would have time enough to grow over the mound before the winter freeze. We waited through the long winter for spring. But it was too wet of a spring to dig then, and spring, as it sometimes does in Wisconsin, kept one foot in winter for months. We waited for the company's schedule to open up. And we're still waiting. I'm reminded of other seemingly…

AS AN AUTHOR, I LOVE VIBRANT VERBS. So as I read the early verses of Psalm 86 today, my writer mindset noticed all those calls to action. David asks God to bend down, hear, answer, protect, save, be merciful, and bring joy. Pondering the life of Christ, I realized that David's prayer was answered for all of us in Jesus. In the Gospels, we see Jesus bending down to touch and heal. He listens to people's needs. He removes the disabilities of the blind and lame. He protects the woman about to be stoned. He saves us all by His death on the cross. He shows mercy to Peter after his denial. And He brings all of humankind eternal hope with His resurrection. Jesus shows immense love for us with…

OF ALL THE GRIEVOUS TRAVESTIES for those who were enslaved in our country, one stands out as an additional tragedy. The history of it is embedded in the celebration known as Juneteenth, which commemorates General Order No. 3 by Union Army General Gordon Granger, proclaiming freedom from slavery in Texas, a declaration made on June 19, 1865 (hence, Juneteenth). Many months after legislation was passed, and almost three years after Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation, slaves in Texas were still in bondage. Finally, on June 19, federal troops arrived in Galveston to take control of the state and ensure that all enslaved people were set free. Freed months earlier, although most did not know it, they were still held in unlawful bondage as slaves. Juneteenth is now celebrated widely as a day…

WHEN I SPEAK OF ISAAC, my son with Down syndrome, some people murmur the comfort they think I need or encourage me as though I'm enduring an awful hardship. I don't take offense (anymore). They don't understand, nor did I, at first. I realize many people don't get that Isaac is a gift of grace to our family and that I have been allotted grace to be Isaac's mom. In Jesus's day, it was a common belief that in Jewish culture birth defects, other physical abnormalities, suffering, and trials were caused because somebody somewhere sinned. But Jesus sets the disciples straight by using the man's blindness to teach them about faith, grace, and glorifying God. A bounty of love, joy, fun, and innate wisdom, Isaac teaches me about unconditional love…

I'D RECENTLY RETIRED AS A high school English teacher, and I wanted to use my newly acquired time to glorify Jesus. But I had so many choices: pursue publishing a book of my own, volunteer with the youth at church, lead a women's Bible study, take on freelance writing or editing assignments. The possibilities excited me, but which should I choose? I prayed Jesus would take me out of the equation, that He'd send someone to ask me to serve in a way that fit me just right because exploring the options on my own felt like I was playing Whack-aMole. Ideas flooded my mind, but the Lord remained silent. Weeks later, I promised Jesus if He would show me the door, any door, I'd walk right through it. In…

PICTURE-TAKING IS A PASSION MY husband and I share, especially macro and close-up shots. Macro photography is taking a picture of something small and showing it as larger than it truly is. As we walk through our garden with cameras in hand, we focus on specific blooms. In one image, a red rose's delicate petals fill the frame edge to edge, its intricate beauty visibly enhanced. In another, a bee nestles into a different blossom's pollen. Its legs coated yellow, its important task is now magnified in our hearts. The main reason I love this form of photography is that it makes a solitary item the point of interest. No distractions like cars driving by, the accumulation of mud on the side of the shed, or any other sights that…