Every day we have a chance to add to or alter our story...

There are moments in time when you look back and can see, feel, and know that heaven and earth have intersected in a powerful way. This is one of those moments. It will forever be imprinted on my heart as a moment when the beautiful things God planted in my heart and stirred in my soul collided with God’s heart

I believe God is saying to us, “Play like you are invested!” It’s not time for partial participation. No more half hearted, folding or giving up. No more throwing away talents, discarding dreams, losing joy, or giving away peace (because the opponent's hand might seem bigger).

“RETREAT, RETREAT” were the words that rang out in my mind. They were emphatic and urgent. It was a curious repetition of words, not ones I would normally hear as my eyes opened from a good sleep. Yet, there they were. Simple and clear…

It is a good day when I get to look across the horizon and see a beautiful cross atop a hill…

At the end of the year, I like to seek God for a fresh word for the coming year. You may do this also…

Nothing is better than opening the fridge, mouth-watering, expecting to grab that box of incredibly plump gorgeous…

I've been down that road before.

Maybe you have found yourself saying that recently.

I don’t think anyone has ever accused me of being one who uses four letter words…until now.

This morning I woke up and realized an exhilarating fact. There are a couple four letter words I absolutely love using. In fact several of them drive me from the moment my eyes open in the morning. Its not often I would admit this, but I truly think they define who I am.

A Candle’s purpose is to burn. It is the reason it is created. Every element of its make up from wax to wick is for one purpose⸺ to burn.

What if the same is true for you? What if every cell in your body, disposition in your make up is inclined to BE or DO something special?

What does it look like to pursue dreams in the midst of duties.

What does the impact of sun light have on our weary souls?

There is a way we can draw power in hard moments. We can learn to sip on joy!

I love the holiday season, with the sights and smells of Thanksgiving and Christmas so closely connected in my home. I enjoy the twinkling lights, the delicious baked goods in the oven, and the warm flickering aromatic candles set around our home. The sight of evergreens, pinecones, bows, and berries adds to the nostalgia of the season.

Fully awake and yet caught up in a real experience with the God who knows every limitation we face and every ounce of abundance we can experience, I stood. After the vivid picture I had see, I waited for God to clarify what I was seeing with the eyes of my imagination and what He wanted me to know about this picture. My sight was drawn to the volcano erupting…

I love looking at old photographs. Memories flood in as bold as the ink upon the page. Each one is accompanied with either joy, sorrow, or a range of emotions in between as thoughts surround every success or failure. Trying not to stray to long on what was, I force my thoughts to veer toward the other end of the spectrum, what could be. There lies hopes and dreams I still hold onto. Suddenly, I realize the back and forth is nauseating, and so I pause to hear wisdom speak to my heart. What He says is look straight ahead but be aware of the now.

I may have binge-watched a few home improvement shows over the last few months. There is something stirring in me about process, building, and what is involved in tearing down the old to make room for something new. I have also done my fair share of projects. One small idea can turn into days of packing, purging, painting, and repurposing. Often we start a project expecting it to go quickly, and then as we sit in the paint fumes and dust, we try to look through the tarps prohibiting us from getting to the essentials that we have safely packed away. Hours of thoughtful planning and back-breaking labor begin to wear us down. We wonder, how could one small idea be so BIG?

I worked in elementary schools for many years, and have been a mom for 19. I have seen my fair share of lost and found items. Many times I found myself searching through the immeasurable pile hunting for the right color, the right size, and ultimately the defining mark. There in permanent marker, visible to any eye, is the sharpie identification. Written in ink are the words which tell us to whom that item belongs. It is clearly distinguishable and lasting. That jacket belongs to me.