“He will be.” These three words hold such strength for me today. They sound so promising—so sure. A friend e-mailed them to me this morning, knowing that I’m going through a tough time dealing with my brother’s cancer.
I planted tomatoes last month. Well at least I thought I planted tomatoes. I went to the nursery and found the “Tomato” sign and chose the colors of pots that corresponded with the varieties I wanted and brought...
“I wish I could just hear a voice from heaven telling me which choice to make,” a friend recently confided to me. “It’s so hard trying to figure out God’s will!”
When pediatricians examine babies and children, part of what they look for is their growth—to find out at what percentile they are on the growth chart. Are they growing normally, is the question?
One summer, while enjoying some down time in Santa Barbara, Calif., I came across a kind old gentleman selling poetry by the side of the road. He was wearing a ragged old jacket, thick with dirt. His hands were covered in grease and soot.
Let's admit it. It's easy to say “yes” to things that we enjoy doing. And it's especially easy to say “yes” to things that we know we are good at. Recently, though, I was asked to do something that I didn't want to do.
There is a passage of Scripture that conveys such hope and joy that it should be at the top of every parent, grandparent, teacher, pastor, and sibling’s precious promises list. I’m talking about 1John 5:16.
My friend Nancy, who is one of the best children’s storytellers I’ve ever heard, recently told me a poignant story. She recalled her childhood when a teacher asked his students what they wanted to be when they grew up. Nancy knew what...
She was his first Valentine. He was hers. They married on Valentine’s Day, 1953. People said it wouldn’t last. She was too young; he was a bit restless. But their love set out to prove everyone wrong.
A little five-year-old girl named Megan was being led through an art gallery by the artist whose paintings were being showcased. At the end of the day, after seeing so many beautiful, exquisite paintings and being told by...
“I believe these belong to you,” a man extended his cupped hand toward me. I peered into his hand and noticed that he cradled five seeds. They were indistinct seeds that I had never seen before. I took them from the man and wondered what this was all about.
Are you a parent who works hard to raise your children to be good Christians but wonder why they don’t like each other? Perhaps you’ve prided yourself on teaching your kids to clean their rooms, brush their teeth, and talk politely in public but...
My husband’s job takes him out of town periodically, sometimes for several weeks in a row. As one might imagine, these single parenting stints where I am left to manage the house and our two preschoolers tend to wear...
A question recently posed to me sent me into a quandary. “How do you honor grandparents who are in error?” The question stumped me and I did not have an answer. After many days of soul searching and praying, a revelation came.
There’s something about second-hand shops, yard sales and consignment boutiques that draw me. I’m sure it’s because I grew up during America’s Great Depression. Shopping-on-the- cheap proved to be expedient.
Last week, I spent some time visiting three Jr. High classrooms. I asked them to write down candid answers to some questions, including this one: “What do you think God thinks of you?” I was happy to read positive answers like these:
For 17 years of my life, I had the companionship of a great little poodle named “Popeye.” He was the best dog for which a guy could ask. He loved to follow me around the house as I did my daily routines. He loved to sit outside in the green...
Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this baby and nurse him for me, and I will pay you.” So the woman took the baby and nursed him. When the child grew older, she took him to Pharaoh’s daughter and he became her son" (Exodus 2:9, 10).
We had a wee bit of a thing brought in to our ER this past week. I’d been talking to my daughter on the phone and she told me the scanner said we had a little one coming in and it didn’t look good. It was a two-month-old in cardiac arrest.
She hadn’t meant it as a gift. She was just clearing out books and papers in preparation for selling the old house our parents had lived in. This adopted sister of mine had moved into the basement of my parents home along with her growing...
