following God’s lead in reconciliation
Maybe the word 'reconciliation' doesn't score many points on your personal Interest-O-Meter. But let me ask you if you've ever had at least one of the following thoughts: "I'm the one who was hurt; they should be the ones to say sorry first!" "I'm the victim here; I have the right to be angry." "I don't mind trying to reconcile, as long as it doesn't cost me anything." "I have forgiven them, but they should still have to suffer for what they did to me." "If I try hard enough, I can live at peace." If any of these thoughts have crossed your mind at some point in your life, perhaps you need...
the kingdom of comfort
This morning, I woke up to no electricity in the house. No hot water, no microwave, no toaster, no stove, no washing machine, no phone charger for my cell phone. I was perturbed by the scant breakfast options and my inability to enjoy a hot bath. My dependence on electricity revealed afresh my so-called “need” for comfort. I like convenience. I don’t like hassle. It’s as simple as that. But do I worship comfort? Have I made convenience my idol? Read the rest of this article over at Ungrind by clicking...
wrinkle-free
One morning in high school, I was running late for school (surprise, surprise). I had a presentation later in the day, so I had to wear something halfway decent. I scrounged around for the burgundy button-down shirt I planned to wear – and found it languishing at the bottom of my ironing pile, looking as though it had been chewed by a cow. After a quick glance through the window to check the weather, I grabbed a black cardigan to throw over the shirt after I had ironed it. Time was not on my side, so I took a short cut – one which I thought was brilliant at the time. Knowing I was...
rooibos in my pocket
Five months ago, our little family of five crammed our most precious earthly possessions into twelve overstuffed suitcases, and traipsed across the Atlantic. In a manner of speaking, that is. To many, twelve bags weighing fifty pounds each may sound like a whole lotta stuff. And it is. I agree. And yet, there remain other things, little things, things that didn’t make the cut when the bags were zipped for the umpteenth and final time. Things I didn’t think I would miss, but I do. During the ten years I spent living in South Africa before moving back to the States, I grew to love so...
i once was blind
I spent two decades of my life dependent on eyeglasses and contact lenses. Twenty years. That’s 7,300 mornings of reaching for prescription frames upon planting my sock-covered feet on the bedside floor. Then one morning, I opened my eyes, and I could see. I half-expected it -- but then again, I really didn’t. The previous day, I had treated myself to unaided sight, thanks to the incredible technology of laser surgery. Just hours after my operation, my vision was still quite blurred, mostly from excessive tearing. I felt a bit like the blind man from the gospel of Mark: "They came to...
letter to a hurting friend :: a guest post by bronwyn lea
The following letter was written by my friend, Bronwyn. With her permission, I re-post it here because she so poignantly articulates a struggle common to so many of us. Before my mom passed away, people would ask me almost hourly, "How is your mom doing?" After she died, my most-commonly-answered question became obsolete. Instead, there was silence. People didn't know what to say anymore. I've found myself in the reverse role as well ... that friend who just doesn't know what to say. How awkward it is! In the letter below, Bronwyn challenges us as friends to be honest about our...
Trusting God with Our Children
I squinted my groggy eyes in the direction of the digital clock perched strategically at the side of my bed. The fluorescent digits told me it was 1:20 a.m. I tried to take a deep breath, but my heart was pounding against my rib cage. I wished my anxiety could be blamed on a bad dream, but I knew the text message I had received a few hours earlier was reality: “She has gone into labour at 25 weeks. Need lots of prayer please.” The message had come from a friend’s husband in South Africa. His wife was pregnant with triplets, and her contractions had started far too early. I wish...
the whole way home
Linking up once again with Lisa-Jo Baker for Five-Minute Friday. The challenge? Write for five minutes on the word view. the view from the rear view mirror is always the clearest hindsight and terrain gone by overcome and conquered but the windshield the windshield is rather foggy and i can’t always see my way with limited visibility i squint to discern what is ahead i ask You to show me more, but You say, no. You say trust. i ask you to show me what lies beyond that hill on this bumpy gravel path ...
lean on Him
The following article was recently posted on iBelieve.com: I heaved open the double doors to the aging gymnasium, grateful for a heated shelter from the snowy Saturday afternoon – and even more grateful for two hours of free roller-skating at the local gym to get the cabin-fever-winter-jiggles out of my three kids. We had been to the free skating twice before, so they knew the drill. Coats off, hats off, shoes off, skates on. I hunched over to help them click the straps of their skates firmly in place, and they were off. Sort of. As ‘off’ as one can be, with two left feet and four...
this is my song
It's Five-Minute Friday time with Lisa-Jo Baker. This week's writing prompt is: song. Join us with your own five minutes of free, unedited writing by clicking here. We had congregated in a large room of my home church, waiting for the rest of the mourners to be seated before we entered as a procession of grieving relatives. It was the day I had been dreading more than any other – the day we buried my mom. Just before we rose to shuffle toward the sanctuary, the pastor said, “Okay. It’s time to go. Let’s go in there and sing these songs with gusto. She would’ve wanted it that way.” It...
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