The War We Wage: some practical thoughts against anger and self-righteousness

Out of the blue, she spoke the biting words, aimed at me, in front of what felt like a crowd. I didn’t say anything—couldn’t look up from the computer—but in that moment my spirit hardened and my own biting words formed themselves loud and shouting in my mind. And this introverted mouth barely held them … Continue reading The War We Wage: some practical thoughts against anger and self-righteousness

The Chronicles of an Unfinished Woman

I am craving vulnerability, folks. Realness. And though my flesh is desperately trying to regenerate itself over these humble bones, I’m dying to be naked and unashamed—baring the soul to showcase the Soul-Maker. Covering up all our real-ness closes off the mind to the things of Christ. Because I am not a perfect Instagram page. … Continue reading The Chronicles of an Unfinished Woman

These Given Gifts

The wispy page crinkles as it turns, and I smooth it down with a palm. I’ve been slowly trekking through Exodus, a book unexpectedly filled with gifts. It says it here, right in the black print, that God gifted the builders of the temple: He says of a man named Bezalel, “I have filled him with … Continue reading These Given Gifts

Our Strong Escape

We need a Strong Escape from the harshness of this world. We need a Refuge. I sit on my knees by the window, fighting the wave of panic that is inching up into my stomach (and, slow and steady, into my mind). A surge of nausea makes me swallow hard. I anxiously try to breathe … Continue reading Our Strong Escape

The Heart of Holy

Here's a piece I wrote for my church after attending their Women's Conference. Contributed by Mary Jackson I sunk onto a seat and glanced around the room. The women had garlanded the walls and windows of the sanctuary with eucalyptus, making the sanctuary a sweet and earthy escape from the winter outside. Filling the room, … Continue reading The Heart of Holy

It’s Okay to be Here

The setting sun sets fire to my clothes, the edges of my sleeve shining gold. All the lights in the house are off, and these last rays steal in and rob patches of darkness (patches of the sink, the table, the floor). I stand at the sink washing dishes. I do my best thinking here, … Continue reading It’s Okay to be Here

The Love that Spills Over

  She flew south, and then she migrated home. Home to Ohio and now here—seated at the table by the window. It is so good when a friend comes home. Friends are places where the soul lands safe, and mine nestles in to hug this missed missionary. We talk about the hard things over plates … Continue reading The Love that Spills Over