Worry Bout Yourself-Or Does Judgement Have It’s Place?

Oh, the internet hurts my head. There is a lot of shouting, and not a lot of listening. Sometimes I wish I could wave a magic wand, do away with social media, and force people to have face-to-face conversations with one another, and discuss their respective positions on life. I don’t think it would solve … More Worry Bout Yourself-Or Does Judgement Have It’s Place?

A Christmas Question from an ADHD Child: Have I Been Good Enough?

The Christmas season is drawing near. Here is the story of an ADHD child’s struggle to make Santa’s good list. I hope it challenges us all on how we think about the Christmas season.   I was driving the kids home from their gymnastics class one early October day. It had been a rough day. … More A Christmas Question from an ADHD Child: Have I Been Good Enough?

If He Were A Tree

Here is a little bit of prose inspired by one of my readers, Jackie Goulette. I feel I didn’t quite do it the justice her idea deserved, but perhaps it is a start for something more in the future. Through my struggled attempt to convey my heart in this piece, I hope He shines through … More If He Were A Tree

Shattered Defenses

As I was sitting in prayer time during church service this weekend, this is the story that played in my mind. It is inspired in part by a poem I wrote many years ago. (Which I won’t share because it is terrible 😉 )  Sometimes the hardest fight is the war against yourself. Once upon … More Shattered Defenses

Hate

On mornings like these, I find myself longing to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head to hide ostrich-style from clanging noise called HATE. So many days I can ignore it like radio static in the background. But other days, like today, it roars making sure I know its power.

Mary or Martha?

I might be able to fool myself into believing that I’ve got my life together. I might even be able to fool you. But I can never fool my children.  Not even for a second. They are little emissaries of the Holy Spirit, tapping me on my shoulder whenever I let things get out of … More Mary or Martha?