• July 2021

    A Child of God

    When I was a little girl, I sometimes got into trouble and was disciplined by my dad. Afterward, he would hold me in his lap and reassure me of his love for me, and then he would pray. Those were intimate moments, in which I felt known and cared for. I never doubted his love for me, and I believed him when he said that it hurt him to have to correct me. Seeing his hurt probably did more to adjust me than the discipline did. I had a fierce devotion to him and have always known his example of fatherhood was the best earthly evidence I would ever have…

  • July 2021

    Tell the Story

    Here at last. We are on the island for our annual family holiday, and it’s a bit like stepping off a moving sidewalk. Months of planning logistics and then weeks of list-making, food preparations, and the frenzied activity of packing (literally everything but the kitchen sink), all culminating in the sudden stop of arriving. By the time we unpacked yesterday evening, found the most strategic places for beach towels, sunscreen and flip-flops, and rearranged the furniture to suit our taste, we began to unwind, and the last prayer I breathed before drifting off to sleep was, “This is it. The whole week stretching in front of us. Lord, thank you…

  • July 2021

    Friendship

    A true friend is a priceless treasure. That one who can laugh with you, cry with you, wonder with you, and stick with you in good times and in hard times. That one who is willing to consider your interest above their own. And, of course, you would do the same, because you have learned to value the fellowship and companionship. This kind of relationship does not just happen. It is born out of practical, intentional desire that perseveres and stays the course. I have been privileged to have more than a few such friendships in my life, and this reality continues to be sound evidence that God loves me.…

  • July 2021

    Abiding

    Our peach tree is dying. Earlier in the Spring I suspected it might be. The blossoms were lovely, but they were not profuse. As the season progressed, it made a valiant effort to produce fruit. A dying tree, however, cannot sustain fruit of any worth. While I am happy to remember its prosperous times, the loss is hard to bear, and we will most likely cut it down before the first frost. The poignancy of it has given me much to ponder. I am aware of two responses to this natural representation of spiritual truths. First, I find a cry within that I not become a dying tree. Lord, don’t…