When we are given more than we could have imagined.

When we are given more than we could have imagined.

Last Thursday evening, my husband and two youngest kids and I met up with 7 other people we didn’t know, climbed into a van with our duffel bags and our good intentions and drove to the border town of Mexicali Mexico to build something. I’d been busy enough in the weeks leading up to our departure that I quietly panicked as we crossed the border at 11pm, realizing that I hadn’t checked Google News for the current drug cartel activity in this particular town. Egad! We had hastily put our precious children into the unknown hands of a young missionary team from our church and for a moment I wondered if I’d properly said goodbye to our elder children, if you know what I mean. The fact that this was my first mission trip was a slight embarrassment that I had to...

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You Got This…(?)

You Got This…(?)

Four weeks post-op. No cancer. No girlie parts on the inside. My tummy full of foreign objects is now a cave of emptiness (or so I imagine). I’ve had 2 follow up Doctor visits and I keep hearing how great I’m doing. I think a doctor’s point of view has a much wider contextual range than I do for my own life, and therefore I can consider an evaluation of “great” to be true and motivating, even though I feel like I’ll never jog again. My husband has a different view of “great” and he’s still counting the weeks as if they were months. The cramming together of a radical hysterectomy along with my firstborn son’s college graduation seems like too much to capture, and I’m sure that’s the source of my procrastination (and this garbled mess)....

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This wasn’t in my plan.

This wasn’t in my plan.

We aren’t ready for these phone calls, ever. She said, “I took the liberty of making you an appointment at one of the country’s top gynecological oncologists and he’s going to come in today to see you and you need to be there at 1:00. Here’s the address.” It was 12:25 and I was pulling into my client’s offices for a 1:00 meeting. My body shook and my heart raced.  She said the levels on my cancer screen went up again and my case has now become complicated. I’m a complicated case. (Some might say that’s not a new condition. I pulled over to breathe and write notes. By the time I arrived at scary-doctor’s office I was through the choked up panic, and calmed by my husband’s voice. I’m challenged to activate the Trust in God that I profess....

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If we only knew

If we only knew

There isn’t a precise moment when you can see it happen. Only that he has grown. It’s not an abrupt shift, and could possibly only be observed through a time lapse filming, like the BBC’s Planet Earth footage of a flower blooming or a sunrise from space. It is as dramatic and beautiful as that, too. Truly the bloom, the explosion, is easy and amazing to see, if we can manage to see it. Sometimes we are hanging around too close to the subject, and we are too myopic or wrongly focused. But when we step back and get a proper look, we see a bigger picture. Last weekend, I was given a stunning portrait of a genuine, brilliant, honorable young man. His college basketball career was coming to an end. He would be celebrated as a graduating senior in the way he’d...

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What if we are brave?

What if we are brave?

If we try to hide our children from controversial content, they may not learn to think for themselves about important issues they’ll face throughout their life. If we try to force our own views on them without demonstrating openness to always-new ways of seeing people, we might miss a chance to teach and learn the mightiest of skills ourselves. If we don’t teach them a foundation of love and truth because we’re uneducated or unsure ourselves about the deepest love and truth, we most definitely will miss the chance to escort our children across the thresholds that we ourselves already crossed. May you, together with all God’s people, grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge…Eph...

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Nay! Not By Wit Or Whiskered Jowl!

Nay! Not By Wit Or Whiskered Jowl!

Lest I neglect completely my humble yet therapeutic, personal yet pseudo-public journal of womanly gymnastics of the mental order, I find today an opportunity to celebrate a beautiful jaunt through another, not-yet-actual friend’s interpretation of a childhood favorite. Not my childhood particularly, unless of course, you consider the Warner Brothers version of said favorite childhood tale. I have only another not-yet-actual-friend to offer my gratitude for sharing such a delightful ditty to start my week. Thank you Ken Davis! Share...

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The truth of a father who loves.

The truth of a father who loves.

Recently I had the privilege of hearing two brilliant pastors on different ends of the country speak – live – and directly to me as if they had read the whole messy complicated backstory before their talk began. First, I listened to Pastor Jim Samra’s teaching all the way from our former church in Michigan (thanks to live web streaming) while I primped and coiffed for a sweet Sunday family adventure. Dr. Samra is beginning the new season, teaching through the first Book of Peter. Today he disassembled the tricky idea of whether we choose God or if He chooses us. And as Jim does with uncommon brilliance, he gave us an insightful example of the truth. He simply said that when two people express their side of any relationship story, they often sound...

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