in search of good strong words that mean something
Dear local church, you are a blessing.
Every Sunday morning, I stand in your midst and hear your voices raised to praise the King. I hear His truths preached from the pulpit. I see smiles and tears, I see rejoicing and mourning.
I see you, local church.
Continue reading “Dear Local Church”
The morning light was still hours away from creeping through our windows yesterday morning when I woke up and stumbled downstairs to the coffee pot at five o’clock. Rubbing my eyes thoroughly and rummaging through the fridge to find the creamer helped wake me up and by the time I curled up in my usual spot on the couch with my coffee, Bible, and journal, I was well awake and alert. It was the day before my birthday and just as I always do, I read through the last year of my journal.
Every year before it’s been a very enjoyable thing to do. Memories that made me smile, ones that made me laugh, and always a few that brought on a cringe. But this year was different. This year was hard to read through.
Continue reading “He Holds Us Fast”
Our backyard is full of trees that seem to burst with life and greenery in the summertime. There is a little cove in the back right corner where the branches seem to envelop two teal lawn chairs and when you sit up there, watching the sun fade behind the house, it’s pure magic. The squirrels and birds dance around in the mornings, often fighting over the many bird feeders provided for their pleasure. It’s a display of breathtaking ordinary beauty, and it’s dying now.
Continue reading “When Feeble Senses Blind”
When you walk into my room, the five shelf book case on the wall across from my doorway is the first thing you’ll see. It used to be organized by color. The blue section was the largest of course, because I feel that blue books are just a wee bit more magical than any other color. (Aren’t all things better in blue?) Over time though, as books have been pulled down and shared with young readers, or I’ve flipped through pages in search of that one quote I loved, the organized beauty has dissipated and left behind are slanted stacks of bookmarked volumes, loose papers of notes, and a coffee mug or two that has gotten left behind during one of my “word search” endeavors. It isn’t a pretty sight. I don’t plan on making it out to be some sort of messy beautiful. Because it isn’t.
It’s just messy. Someone should clean it up.
But while it shouldn’t stay in the condition it is now, there’s something to be said for the disarray.
Continue reading “Keeper of the Books: Why Mundane Work Matters”
The breeze blew softly as I sat on the porch and turned the page of captivating novel. Page after page detailed a land I had never set foot on, never seen, never even considered. I saw the rivers come into view, felt the cool wind, and smelled the plants that were entirely foreign to me, save the descriptions I read in this book. Bit by bit, I became familiar with a place I had never laid eyes on, all within roughly four hundred pages of a story. Books have the power to take us on adventures, they capture us entirely and carry us away.
Continue reading “Dear Authors, Some Books Take You Home”
I suppose Mrs. Allan is too old to dance and sing and of course it wouldn’t be dignified for a minister’s wife. But I can just feel she’s glad to be a Christian and that she’d be one even if she could get to heaven without it.
Anne of Green Gables
Anne of Green Gables has been my favorite novel, second only to Stepping Heavenward, since I was a little girl. I’ve read it countless times. This spring, I downloaded it on Audible and have been listening to it over the last few weeks. I was standing at the sink one afternoon, scrubbing some dishes after lunch, when Anne met Mrs. Allan, the new minister’s wife. Then Anne described her to Marilla in a way that really captivated me.
But I can just feel she’s glad to be a Christian and that she’d be one even if she could get to heaven without it.
She was glad. Not because of what she got out of being a Christian, just because she was one. She was His. The thought prompted the question that would logically follow.
Am I glad to be a Christian?
Continue reading “Are You Glad to Be a Christian?”
It’s early morning. My coffee sits in the window sill of my Dad’s office, which happens to be my favorite room in the whole house. No one else has woken up yet, and there’s a precious stillness around me. I turned on some soft instrumental music and the morning seems calm and quiet.
But it isn’t.
Continue reading “Maybe He is the Answer, and He is Enough”
I am a very easily frightened person. My biggest fear, is… balloons.
It’s ridiculous, right? What is so terrifying about a little piece of latex filled with air?
Continue reading “The Blessed Secret: The Biggest Thing Susannah Spurgeon Taught Me”
Oh, how I love New Years Eve. I always have, and as I’ve gotten older, I have begun to understand why. I like fresh starts, I like getting organized, I like new beginnings, and new days with “no mistakes in them…yet.” (Cool people will picture their favorite Canadian red-head right about now.) What better time for all of those than the beginning of a brand new year?
Continue reading “Resolved: He Will Hold Me Fast”Douglas Bond, author of several historical fiction novels, recently hosted a contest where one had to write a stanza that matched the syntax and style of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, and captured the essence of how the Gospel proves that “wrong shall fail and right prevail.”
The following is a poem that was born during this contest, when I began to ponder the depths of the Gospel, and how Christmas is far more than the birth of Jesus, it is the coming of lasting hope, the promise of peace, and the gift of redemption. Many thanks to Bond and Longfellow, for their work, and for turning my eyes back to the Savior this Christmas.
The final stanza is from Longfellow’s original work. Merry Christmas, dear friends.
Continue reading “Longfellow Revisited: A Gospel Poem for Christmas”Informing the Reforming
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