[The following is an excerpt from my book Forgiven and Restored.] DEAR READER, YOU MAY BE WONDERING what it is that makes me such an expert on forgiveness and restored relationships. Why should you read this book and take my advice? Well, I don’t claim to be an expert by any means, but I do know what it’s like to be in your shoes. I know what it’s like to live with indescribable pain and loss and feel like you
Category: Spiritual Growth
Father, keep me weak
Recently my husband and I went kayaking in the Assateague Channel, just off of Chincoteague Island, VA — one of my very favorite places in the world. I love kayaking for so many reasons, not the least of which are vantage points like this. But I think what I love most about kayaking is it makes me feel strong. There’s nothing quite like feeling the wind on your face as you slice through the water knowing that it’s your own
Asking the hard question: Am I racist?
The headlines the last few weeks make my stomach turn. Another black man — a child of God — senselessly and brutally murdered by the same people sworn to protect him. A woman using her privilege and the unspoken, but loudly observed bias of local law enforcement to try and have a man arrested because she didn’t like that he asked her to follow the rules. And there is more. There is always more. Which is precisely the problem. From
Should Christians be immune to fear?
I’m afraid. That’s the first time I’ve said it out loud since this all began. As a follower of Jesus, I know I have not been given a Spirit of fear; I claim that! As a mother, I believe it’s my job to create calm and stability for my kids. I’ve been trying to do that. As an employee, I am grateful to still have a job, one that challenges me creatively, one I can do from home. I embrace
Brave enough to ask: Can I pray with you?
Today my boss offered to pray with me. She knew I was nervous about a big webinar I was about to present to 65 local business leaders and she offered to pray with me. And it’s not what she prayed, or how important this project felt to both of us that matters, it’s that she was brave enough to offer. Because I think so often we don’t. Especially in the workplace. We’re worried about offending others, or making them uncomfortable,
Choose obedience, choose joy
I don’t really do resolutions…I tend to be a pretty goal-oriented person to begin with and have no problem setting goals throughout the year. But the last few years I have selected a word or phrase to kind of be my mantra for the year. Something I need to work on or want to strive for. In 2018 it was “Qualified” and I spent the year working to believe that it was God who did the qualifying and whatever He
Hey fellow believers, it’s OK to doubt and question
Sometimes it seems easy to lose Hope. There is so much to cause doubt and question. There is pain and suffering, injustice and hatred. We wonder how God could let that child die? How could He allow that girl to be raped? How could He do nothing to protect the innocent, the hurting, the faithful? We wrestle with these questions, and the doubters — the unbelievers — toss them at our feet to scatter on the ground as proof that
Today is the day
Today’s the big day. It’s the day I’ve been preparing and praying for since I wrote the first words on July 25, 2014. Almost five years to the day and my book Forgiven and Restored is published. It’s real, it’s out there for the world to buy and read. Five years of writing and rejections and praying and giving up and trying again and more rejections and working hard and crying and saying “thank you God”. And then there was
Not everyone likes me, and that’s OK
“I don’t think she likes me,” my daughter stated matter-of-factly. It was the third time that week she’d made a similar statement, each time about someone different. “Why would you say that?” I asked, yet again. And before she even finished her answer I was formulating my rebuttal. Because for some reason I feel like I have to disagree with my daughter whenever she declares someone doesn’t like her. I have to try to find a reason that person may
I don’t belong here
When I was 13 years old I was molested by my then-step-father. There are really no words to adequately describe the fear I felt that night. While my short-term memory fails me every day, I can still remember that night in vivid detail. What I remember most are the thoughts going through my head “How do I get out of this? How can I get away without making him angry? I should not be here. I don’t belong here.” Somehow, God