The past two days I have been trying to format a manuscript that I hope to publish one of these days. It has been a “hair-pulling” experience. Ready to throw in the towel, I accidently stumbled on a feature that turned night into day.

Imagine their confusion and dejection after Peter and the disciples spent a fruitless night fishing. Even what he "knew" wasn’t working any more.

I won't be surprised if some of you don't want to read this post because of the word “pain” in the title. A year ago, I wouldn’t have read it either...

I found an article by A. W. Tozer somewhat disturbing. As the title above indicates, Tozer believed that loneliness is the Christian’s lot in life...

I remember the time my family moved to a new neighborhood (one of 20 or more moves, I might add). The night before we moved all of our furnishings to the new house, I took a bottle of homemade apple cider out of the refrigerator and set it on the kitchen counter. The next morning as I was cleaning the counter top, the bottle exploded inches from my face...

Today I read that, according to the Westminster Shorter Catechism, “Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever.” That stopped me in my tracks! Digging back into my memory bank, I remember a different version...

Yesterday I was looking at some photos taken at a recent summer camp for orphans and children from broken families. One photo of two children arm wrestling especially caught my attention. Growing up in a household without a father, God gave me two “Elijahs” (and several others later on).

An incident happened a long time ago that has puzzled me for many years. My husband, my three young children and I rented a cabin with another family on a lake near the border of the U.S. and Canada. The guys were excited about fishing so we all piled into a rented row boat, hauling fishing gear, worms, life jackets, you name it. It’s a wonder the boat didn’t capsize! The landscape around the lake was breathtaking. I’d taken an art class not long before so I brought my sketch pad along. If you’d been there, you would have thought I’d broken all 10 commandments…

Last night I picked up a book “by chance” and started reading about “passion for God.” I began to pray about it, asking God to show me what that looks like, why I don’t feel it more often. How do I get back in touch with passion, specifically passion for God?

I have a personal confession to make: I dislike those emails that ask, “Remember when?” When I see pictures of blue and pink 1957 Chevrolets, a reminder that bread was 12 cents a loaf or that mothers wore nylons that came in two pieces, I shake my head and say to myself, “Sorry, I’ve moved! That’s not my address anymore.” Yet, the funny thing is that where I am living today, it wouldn’t surprise me to see pink and blue Chevrolets or two piece nylons. Whether 1950 or 2011, granted, the past has had a powerful influence on who we are today, but it doesn’t have the last word. For me,...