As the worship service progressed, I could feel it.

A gnawing sense of “trying” to draw close to God…………..and failing.

Have you ever felt the wall?

My heart longed to know I was in His presence.

My soul yearned for some type of “feeling” that He was right there.

But my mind continued to wander and wonder.

As the sermon began, I hoped for words that would step on my toes…….and grab my attention.

I should have known that just asking was exactly what God was waiting for……….and that His answer would go far beyond my wishes.

God didn’t just grab my attention by stepping on my toes.

He stopped me in my tracks.

If you don’t feel strong desires for the manifestation of the glory of God, it is not because you have drunk deeply and are satisfied.

It is because you have nibbled so long at the table of the world.

Your soul is stuffed with small things, and there is no room for the great.

God did not create you for this. 

John Piper, A Hunger for God:  Desiring God Through Fasting and Prayer


The sermon could have started and ended with these words.

They were all I needed Sunday.

As I heard our preacher read this quote and as I read it on the screen in front of me, I knew that my problem wasn’t that I was too satisfied with the glory of God…………….

My problem was all my nibbling on small things.

Like a great meal unable to be enjoyed because every spoon has been licked and every item tasted,

I knew I had been filling my life with too much “world,”

leaving little room for the One I love most.


Today, I confessed my wilderness season to my future son-in-law as I was beginning to clean part of our shed.

As we talked, he made the statement that even the shed could become a “holy place” for me.

I knew in that very instant that my problem hasn’t been “God not showing up.”

My problem has been missing Him, because I haven’t been as intentional about inviting Him into my shed-cleaning moments.

I ran in the house to get my camera, because I knew I would see better through a lens.

I saw the overwhelming mess before me in a whole new way,

but I didn’t feel overwhelmed.

I took everything off the shelf and off the walls……….

and covered our yard with so many mismatched containers of screwdrivers, drill bits, nails, and tools that we could have opened our own little hardware store for days.

Cleaning started only after making a bigger mess.

And I knew my own mess had to be poured out at His feet too.


Mismatched thoughts

Mismatched actions

Treasures mixed with trash


My mind and heart needed sorting more than this little holy building ever would.

The shelf, covered in dust and grease, needed wiped down.

A clean surface had to be created before deciding what could go where,

and I braced myself for God’s “wiping down” of all my own dust and grease.


Create in me a clean heart,

O God,

and renew a right spirit within me.

Psalm 51:10 ESV


My husband joined me in the undertaking, and together we dumped and sorted and purged.

Sometimes even spiritual deserts can’t be faced alone.

Our shelf looks almost brand new (more thanks to Tim than to me),

but my heart and mind are still a work in progress…………….

and I know Tim can’t finish this job.

It feels so good to hear my fingers clicking on this keyboard tonight…………….

because, for me, this clicking is the one way I am able to see straight.

I write.

And God speaks.


 He shows up every time I slow down

and gently reminds me He’s been right here all along.


I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, 

and I will bring you back to this land. 

I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.

Genesis 28:15 NIV


It’s 3:35 a.m., and I feel better.

Everyone is sleeping.

The house is somewhat clean.

I’ve edited a photo shoot and texted with a friend who also longs for a closer walk with God.

And I stumbled across another John Piper quote tonight and realized part of my struggle has been balancing my real life with social media……………..

O, how easy it is to do religious things if other people are watching! Preaching, praying, attending church, reading the bible, acts of kindness and charity-they all take on a certain pleasantness of the ego if we know that others will find out about them and think well of us. It is a deadly addiction for esteem that we have.

John Piper, A Hunger for God


To think this book was written 20 years ago.

Long before Blogging or Facebook or Social Media or Twitter.

It’s so easy to look spiritual.


I’m confessing tonight that my walk with God is a stumbling, tripping, often-falling one.

I’m so thankful for a Father who extends His hand to me time and time again and says,

“Here I am.  Hold on a little tighter.”

And I’m so thankful for a shed that became holy and a mess that became His.

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 Last August, our daughter left for college leaving the last of our kid’s bedrooms empty.

It felt so strange to walk from room to room and see perfectly made beds…….

every single day.

Tim and I were determined to embrace this new chapter of life together,

but I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say my heart often ached for some kind of noise………….

anything to fill up the empty space that echoed inside of me.

And God, as always, sent just what I needed.

You became my beautiful bouquet straight from Heaven,

blooming with so much energy and passion for life

that I couldn’t help but feel more alive just being near you.

My house woke up every time you walked in,

and the sound of your laughter forever lingers here.

When I think about how precise God’s plan had to be in order for all of us to be living in the same place at the same time in history,

I am convinced we were meant to be.

All of us.


In this tiny town.

At the same time.


Sharing a chapter of life and becoming minor characters in each other’s life stories.

As you venture off to summer jobs and Masters programs,

I hope you’ll carry our shared memories with you.

I hope you’ll remember the deep talks we had as well as the silly ones,

and I hope you’ll never forget you always have a home in Kentucky.

But most of all……………………

I hope you’ll always remember just how treasured you are…………

not just by me,

but by God.

You were each created for a very specific purpose.

No one else can do what you were called to do or be who you were called to be.

The enemy will whisper doubt from time to time.

Don’t listen.

He’ll cause you to second guess your joy.

He’ll do anything he can to plant seeds of doubt.

He’s a thief……………..

who temporarily has the power to steal, kill, and destroy.

And he’s relentless,

fully aware of the potential deep inside each of you.

So my prayer for you is this:

Unwavering faith

Unshakable peace

Unending joy

Unstoppable courage

Unending hope

Unlimited grace

Unconditional love


This world needs you.

It needs your smile.

It needs your love.

It needs your grace.

It needs every part of you to be all in with your higher calling.


And this world needs all of us who see beyond the clouds and trees and mountains…………..

to the Heavens…………

to share what we see.


Open your eyes.

Ask God to show up.

Then tell the world what appears!

For me,

God showed up in the form of eight sweet college girls who blessed my life with their love all year long.

And I’m forever thankful.


“Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,

and all these things will be added to you.”

Matt. 6:33

What do you need today?

Don’t be afraid to ask Him.

Give thanks in all circumstances;

for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

I Thess. 5:18

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I remember sitting on the beach and watching my last sunrise with Nick.

Much like this morning in Kentucky, the dark clouds attempted to hide what I knew was tucked right behind them.

I knew they could try to mask the beauty of that morning,

but they really had no power.

The sun was still rising.

We just couldn’t see it.

And, honestly, I was struggling to feel it.

I held back tears that summer morning of 2008 as I feared the sky was somehow

preparing my heart for what the doctors had already tried to do.

Nick and I sat in silence and now I often wish I would have had the courage to say what was on my heart.

I wish I could tell Nick I knew the sun was really rising.

I wish I could tell him there were no clouds dark enough to take away the light of eternity.

I wish I could tell him the power of the resurrection was so unbelievably real that there was no need for either of us to fear tomorrow.

But I didn’t.

I just sat beside him and snapped pictures as we quietly watched a few random tourists stroll the mostly dark and somewhat ominous beach.

Life can be so dark.

Life can feel so ominous.


Eventually, the rays of light fought boldly with the atmosphere, and without warning,

they began to burst through from every side just like they did today.

Relief flooded my soul as light began to win that morning,

because I needed to know before we walked to our car that


the Light would eventually WIN.

Darkness overwhelmed our family four months later.

In spite of all our prayers for earthly healing,

Nick went Home.

Tim reminds me often that we don’t know what Nick was praying in those last days………..

and honestly, knowing Nick’s love for God,

I think I fully know.

He didn’t fear the darkness.

He knew more deeply than most adults will ever know just how magnificent the light is just on the other side.


Two years passed by in my grief, and I found myself at a writer’s conference in North Carolina sitting beside a woman who had recently and unexpectedly lost her husband.

We sat face to face as she began to cry, telling me all about him.

She told me how early morning was the most difficult part of the day for her,

because she and her husband had always eaten breakfast together before they left for work.

As our conversation ended, I asked if I could pray with her,

and I realized we had talked for nearly an hour without knowing each other’s names.

Shared grief is like that.

Names are so much less significant than heartache when it comes to bonding.

She looked up at me with tears in her eyes and said, “Dawn.”

I could feel every part of me catching my breath.

Here I was, facing someone whose very name was the time of a day she found most difficult to face.

I was literally “facing Dawn” with tears running down her cheeks.

We prayed, and I was overwhelmed with how God moved in that moment,

speaking words from me that I knew were really from Him to her.

Her name was no accident.

Her tragic loss was not unnoticed.

The dark clouds were only blocking the sunrise for a season.

She would see the sun again.


Dawn would one day be able to face each new dawn

with strength and hope and joy and peace.


I blogged my way through my own dark-cloud season of life and reached a day where I knew it was time to share my journey in a way that could help others journal their way through their own dark days.

As we prepared the book for publishing,

I knew the photo on the cover had to be of my last sunrise with Nick,

and I knew the title had to be

Facing Dawn.

I don’t know what you’re facing this morning,

but I do know this.

Light has already won the battle.

The Son is there.

Even if you can’t see Him.

 He conquered death,

ripping every dark cloud away…….


Because of this, we can boldly face each new dawn,

no matter how dark,

with Hope and Joy and Peace………….

until we see Him face to face.

The light shines in the darkness,

and the darkness has not overcome it.

John 1:5

Facing Dawn:  A Morning Devotional for the Brokenhearted

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Finding God in Your Mess

April 3rd, 2017


I somehow managed to avoid it for months.

Endless craft supplies,

all kinds of notebooks,


enough glue to hold together every science fair project in the county.

I’m not sure if it was the hard work I was avoiding or the precious memories I would surely face along the way.

Messes are like that, aren’t they?

We find ourselves in the middle of them time and time again…………

yet it’s so much easier to look the other way,

stay busy,


pretend they’ll somehow disappear on their own.

The day finally arrives, though, when we realize there’s only way to deal with a mess.

We have to face it.

Dig in.



Messes take hard work and lots of time to fix.

So container by container,

I faced mine.

Remnants of school projects.

Half-used drawing pads.

Jewels and ribbons from the days of making homecoming and prom bouquets.

Supplies for making a princess tiara, along with satin gloves and a frog that would hopefully one day become a prince.

Visions of Olivia dressed in a Princess Tiana costume danced through my mind.

Sometimes messes make you stop and realize just how precious the past truly was.

Paint brushes, fabric scraps, and old notebooks piled high,

mixed with colored pencils and assorted candles….

Messes never make sense until you sort them out.

A homemade treasure that served a special purpose eight years ago-

when Olivia needed something at school

to keep Nick’s memory close by-

will now serve a new and special purpose,

keeping both Olivia and Nick close to me while I write.

Messes, when examined up close,

 hold their own kind of beauty and have their own kind of purpose.

Photographs, found tucked behind shelves, took my breath away.

I remember how excited the boys were to have this swing on the back porch.

They swung together all evening……….what I’d give to hear their conversation today.

Messes make us realize we need to listen closely…….

voices, like memories, can so quickly fade away.

A Mother’s Day gift from Nick.

“#1 Mom”

I can see him grinning as he handed this to me.

Messes remind us that even when life was hard we were doing the best we could……

and they encourage us to do our very best today.

Without warning today,

my mess began to speak not just to my mom heart,

but also to my soul.

“This is love……..

not that we loved God…………..

but that He loved us and sent His Son.”

I remembered this box of decorative duct tape, a gift from Mamaw to Olivia.

She used it along with a pack of Post-it notes to fill her car with Bible verses when she was 16.

Messes remind us of who we need to hold onto……………

and also of who is holding onto us.

Jesus truly is the duct tape, holding our broken lives together (Col. 1:17).


I was getting pretty tired of my own mess this afternoon,

so I almost didn’t tackle my desk.

Sometimes when we’ve faced a mess for a long time,

we just need a break.

And I had definitely had enough.

The thought of organizing paper clips and rubber bands was more than I thought I could bear,

but I pulled my desk drawer open anyway

and immediately knew…….

God was clearly not finished with the mess inside of me.

Messes can’t be fixed on our own timetable………..

when God says,

“Face them.”

He means, “Face them all.”

You can imagine the look on my face when I moved an old calendar and unopened stamp pad set

and discovered the head of Jesus and a penny hiding underneath.

That’s right.

Jesus was right there…….

well, part of Him anyway……..

looking right up at me from the middle of my mess.

Not far from Him was an old rusty stake that I’ve kept in my drawer for years to remind me of just what He went through for me………….

and for you.

He entered our messes over 2,000 years ago,

and He still wants to enter them today.


My blogging has been very sporadic this year.

My words have felt emptier……………and the gap between them has felt like a canyon in my soul.

So I started my cleaning project this morning by telling a friend I was going to take pictures along the way,

hoping God would somehow show up in my mess.

I miss writing.

I need writing.

For me, writing is like breathing……….

and lately my oxygen level has been low.

Messes surround me every day,

and I know how badly God’s presence is needed in each of them.

I needed God to show up,

because I needed to know He’s going to show up for so many people I love who are hurting, confused, discouraged, broken, and sad.

Just as I began to type this post and share these images,

a Facebook notification popped up in the bottom right corner of my computer.

I couldn’t see the picture, but I read the words,

“Found a heart shaped leaf.”

 I had to go look!!

A beautiful high school student had sent these two photos………………


And the timing couldn’t have been more perfect!

She not only sent a leaf in the shape of a heart…………..

she sent love in the shape of a broken heart.


If your heart is broken or your life is a mess,

please know this.

God is right there.

He was broken for you………………so that you could be whole.

Stop running.

Stop pretending.

Face the mess.

Dig in.

Do the work.

See the beauty………….even when it hurts.

Ask God to show up.

And when you feel too tired and you just want to quit………………..

open one more drawer.

I’m so glad I did!


God loves you with a never-ending love,

and He promises to make all things beautiful………

in His time.

And we know that in all things

God works for the good of those who love him,

who have been called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28

He has made everything beautiful in its time.

He has also set eternity in the human heart;

yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

Eccl. 3:11

Thank you for sharing this often-messy life with me.

I love you all so much.

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I can remember the moment like it was yesterday.

Sitting in my bathtub, of all places, and hearing someone calling from my front door,

I recognized Cheri’s voice immediately; and from my bathroom called back,

“Come on in.”

When your son has cancer and you’ve been told there’s nothing else the doctors can do,

you stop caring about the condition you’re in when someone stops by to see you.

Cheri walked right into my house and then right into my bathroom in search of me,

and there I sat in bubbles…………..

completely exposed emotionally and physically……………

and equally unconcerned about either one.

As she stood there in front of me,

I looked up in tears to see her holding a book.

“You have to read this,”

she passionately said as she placed it on the side of my tub.

I knew from the look in her eyes that this was more than a token,

“I hope this helps.”

She didn’t stay long (How long can you look at a friend who has nothing to hide?)

I picked up the book as I heard my front door shut.

If I’m honest, fiction was the furthest thing from what I thought I needed on that August day.

My son in a wheelchair, his days with us quickly passing.

My heart breaking in two.

How could I plow through something made up by an author when so much of my real life was falling apart?

I’m not sure how I found the strength to begin reading,

but I did.

Quickly, I found myself carried away into the life of a man who, much like me,

was broken,




and doubting everything about his faith.

Tears ran down my face as I encountered a totally different version of Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit than I had ever encountered before;

and while I knew all along that this was just one author’s way of moving a character through his grief and pain,

he was also moving me through mine.

The Bible was my anchor through Nick’s entire journey and continues to be today,

but on that summer day in 2008,

The Shack was a life preserver.

I wept through so many of the chapters and found myself hiking through the woods and climbing over branches right along with Mack.

I’m not sure what happened as I turned the pages,

but I do know this.

My anger and fear somehow washed away enough for me to survive the next four horrific months.

Nick went Home on November 29th of that year,

and like Mack,

I have had to journey again and again to a place where I can see Nick running into the arms of Jesus……….

not my own.

Eight and a half years have passed since we said goodbye to our precious brown-eyed boy.

So much has happened since then.

And yet so much is still very much the same.

My heart still aches.

Tears still come.

Grief ambushes me at auctions, grocery stores, and all kinds of places I never dreamed possible.

I never want to stop missing my sweet Nick.

I never want to stop seeing his smile when I close my eyes.

I also never want to get so far from my own loss that I can’t feel pain when others are hurting.

Maybe that’s why God has led me to our county jail.

There’s something about the women I talk to there every week that reminds me…………………..

life is incredibly hard but God is in the midst of every single struggle.

I’ve shared about The Shack with the girls several times over the past few years,

but when they began to see the trailer for the movie from their cell,

it became even more real to them.

Ruthie, one of my friends from church who also ministers to these hurting ladies,

asked our church to order ten copies for each pod of women and we took them to the girls two weeks ago.

I’ve been back several times since the night we took this photograph,

and it’s been amazing to hear the women talk about how the book has spoken to them so personally.

There are plenty of things about The Shack that are controversial as far as doctrine goes,

but there’s enough in the book about wrestling with life’s deepest questions that makes it worth the read.

If you’re struggling with grief or heartache,

go to the Bible first……………..


But consider reading The Shack sometime too.

I have no idea what I’ll think of the movie next week,

but I’m taking Kleenex………………..

I know that for sure.

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted

and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Psalm 34:18

Thank you, RW, for allowing us to take the love of God to hurting women in Carter County every week.

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When Your Hands Are Just Too Full

February 15th, 2017


I knew I had overestimated what I could carry in one trip.

Two large notebooks

A Bible

A tub of colored pencils

And my purse………..

The trip from my car to the house didn’t seem that far –

until I closed the car door (with my foot) and turned to walk inside.

I could feel the wobbly stack beginning to slip

and before I could see what was happening,

I heard the unmistakable sound of something breaking.

Colored pencils bounced randomly across our weathered pavement and the tub that had once locked securely now lay shattered,

exposing its contents in a way that said,

“I’ve served my time………..I’m done.”


Something about this broken tub reminded me of the woman that had just held these pencils.

Feeling purposeless,


so done with the time she’s now serving,

an inmate I saw today had drawn a picture of herself crying.

“Help me, God!”

she penned above her tear-stained drawing.

As we sat and looked at what she was feeling,

I found myself wordless.


We don’t get to choose our beginning in this world.

And hers had been anything but easy.

Layers of a hard life,

now covered by the shadow of her looming court date,

were more than she could bear.

And like me trying to make it to my door,

her hands were just too full.


What do you do when you realize you just can’t carry it all anymore?


Jesus realized His own hands were too full

and took the heavy cup He was holding to His Father,

“Father, if you are willing,

take this cup from me;

yet not my will,

but yours be done.”

Luke 22:42

When the Son of God realized He needed help with His heavy load,

He wasn’t afraid to ask.

Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you;

he will never permit the righteous to be moved.

Psalm 55:22

Even the Psalmist knew where to go with hands that were overflowing.

Peter, writing to Christian exiles spread across the Roman empire who surely felt their grasp on life was slipping,

penned the well-known words,

Cast all your anxieties on him,

because he cares for you.

I Peter 5:7

He knew what we all eventually learn……

We just can’t do this thing called life all by ourselves.

Stop trying to figure things out.

Stop trying to make sense of this or that.

The past can’t be changed

Tomorrow can’t be predicted.

And today is often too much to hold on our own.

The best thing to do when the load we’re carrying is too heavy is simply lay it down.

Lay it all down.

The notebooks,

the Bible,

the tub of colored pencils,

whatever it is that’s about to slip from our hands and shatter anyway…………….

lay it all down.

Leave it at the foot of the cross, because He’s there.

And He’s got this.

He was (and still is) with us in the joy and pain we feel when we look back,

and He’s ahead of us in the good and bad that awaits.

So today, I’m laying it all down,

emptying my hands,

and reaching out for His.

If your hands are too full,

I hope you’ll try it too.

For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you,

Do not fear; I will help you.

Is. 41:13

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In a world where everything seems bigger and louder than ever before,

I love the thought of a tiny copper coin still having a voice.


A purchase today may cost several hundred dollars,

but there’s a good chance the total will still end in some sort of cents……..

“That’ll be 265 dollars and 23 cents.”

I don’t know why, but this is powerful to me.

It’s as if my heart and mind know that the very minute I say pennies are obsolete,

I say a whole lot more…………

Because pennies have power.

That’s right.

One little coin has the ability to stop me in my tracks.

Every single time.

I may be in a parking lot or in a grocery store thinking about a million different things,

but when I spot one,

time seems to stop.

I see Heaven in a penny.

I see Nick.

I see God placing something in my path that gives me permission to slow down.


Just a few minutes ago, as I was writing this very post,

my phone dinged and I saw the words,

“Look what I just found,”

arriving in a text message.

Attached to the message was this picture……


Jon, one of Nick’s best childhood buddies, was

walking on the campus of the University of Kentucky when he

spotted one little coin, and it caused him to stop,

take a picture,

think of Nick……and think of me.

Jon made my day today……..

with a short text and a picture of one little coin.

As I came back to finish this post,

I realized Jon gets it too.

Pennies still matter.

And I’m so glad!


Pennies catch us by surprise.

They send hellos from Heaven.

They remind us that joy will never be found in wealth.

Joy is found in slowing down enough to notice all the little things along the way.


Pennies can do even more than that………

They can also remind us of our past.

Designed by Benjamin Franklin in 1787, pennies were the very first form of currency authorized by the United States.

Almost 200 years later, an image of Lincoln was added to the coin along with the words, “In God We Trust,”

making it the first piece of money to ever bear these powerful words.


I’m so glad pennies still matter,

because in this big, loud, busy world………

I need them.


Thus says the LORD:

”Stand by the roads, and look,

and ask for the ancient paths,

where the good way is;

and walk in it, 

and find rest for your souls. 

Jeremiah 6:16

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I’ve held a few signs in my life.

The one I treasure most said,

“Last day of chemo!”

and I remember grasping it so proudly alongside my husband and son who a year later lost his fight with cancer.

Signs definitely speak.


And our family definitely had a message to deliver to the world on that special day.

A few years later, KLove asked for photographs of people showing how they were living proof of God’s love and power in their lives, so I had a friend take a photograph of me sitting between our two children’s tombstones.


I wanted the world to know that with God you can face the unimaginable and somehow smile again.

I guess that’s what signs are for……………………..being heard without opening our mouths.

And I’m all for people being heard.












and even Famous

Freedom rings in a country where we’re free to march down any street we choose,

carrying a sign declaring any type of conviction.

I really wouldn’t want it any other way.

I wouldn’t want to live, like many do around the world, in fear of sharing my thoughts openly and honestly.

I’m thankful for a country where all voices can be heard…………loudly and clearly.

And I would never criticize the masses of women who felt compelled, for whatever reason, to join together to make their voices known.

Some marched carrying handmade signs.

Others marched by using their keyboards.

Whether you chose a street or a form of social media to express your views during the past week,

you had a place to freely say whatever was on your mind.

And there was plenty said on all sides of every issue.

Street marching


Keyboard marching

They’re one and the same to me.

I love words, and I find great power in them.

But lately, I’ve found words exhausting.

Too many voices and too many signs and too many posts have turned the beauty of the human language into an alphabet soup of chaos………………..

and I don’t really know what anyone wants anymore.,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Except for everyone else to be quiet and listen to them.


So, I’m choosing to walk……………….

not march.

I’m choosing to put one foot in front of the other as I move from my bedroom to my kitchen for my morning coffee

and as I leave my home to teach

or take photographs

or sit with female inmates in jail…………….

Women who took their freedom too far and now long for someone to help hold them back from everything they thought they needed or wanted.

I’m choosing to walk not march because I don’t feel compelled to pressure anyone else to make my world better than I can make it myself by loving deeply and living honestly.

And as I think of my own daughter, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter and the many dreams I have for each of them………………………

I feel very content walking through life with them rather than marching down streets for them.

I feel extremely powerful walking through my days rather than marching,

because every single morning I wake up and dig deep into the tiny little part of this great big world God has made my own………

and in that digging, I hope I plant seeds along the way that continue to grow into beautiful things long after I’m gone.


If God can bring good from all things (and He promises He will),

I hope He takes this past week filled with so many words being carried high and spoken loudly and causes us all to look deep within ourselves and ask,

“What difference am I really making on this planet?”


Maybe that’s it.

Maybe that was the driving force for this weekend’s movement.

Maybe everyone just wants to be sure they play a pivotal role in this crazy thing called life.

I’ve read a lot of news articles and looked at even more photographs from the past few days,

and I admire people who traveled far and wide to join what they believed they needed to join in order to be heard.

Who am I, as a blogger, to say their voices don’t matter?

But for me, I’ll stay off the street and in my own little town doing what I can to make the world a better place one friend-to-friend conversation at a time.

I’ll vote wisely and pray for my leaders.

-no matter how I may feel about them-

and thank God daily for a country where I don’t have to hide my beliefs or fear being imprisoned for speaking my heart.

March if you need to……………..

but never take lightly the significance you make when you also choose to walk.

Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary,
    they will walk and not be faint.

Isaiah 40:30-31

Our daughter recently said, “Yes!” to her boyfriend’s proposal of marriage.

The sign they held spoke to the beauty of that moment.


May this be the sign we all hold high as we walk into the rest of 2017.

And in holding it, I hope we’ll see…………………….

“Love and faithfulness meet together;


righteousness and peace kiss each other.”

Psalm 85:10


Oh Happy Day!!!!!!!!!!