There have been days...very monotonous, ordinary, hum-drum days when I have just wanted to escape. You have those days, too? Since life isn't exactly all exciting or all adventure. So much of life is putting away the laundry. Jotting down the grocery list. Taking out the trash. Refereeing squabbles. Sometimes, we scroll Facebook or Pinterest and we realize that there are far more appealing places in the world than where we are at the moment. Sitting next to the kid with the squishy diaper. There are botanical gardens and mountains where you can see big patches of sky. There are beaches! And I think to myself, "Awe, yes. That's what I need. If I were on the shore, in the warm sun, then I'd be happy. All would be right with my world." But the thing is, occasionally, o[...]

I talked to the lady at the hotel who puts out our breakfast. "What do you do?" she asks.  We must look like a sight, scrounging around for donuts and eggs and coffee with all our ragamuffin kids. "We travel for work," I say. But, I can tell she's still curious, so I do my best to explain. "We help churches. We go live on their parking lot." I point out the window at our house on wheels. "We help the people with their marriages and their families and their relationship with God." She nods slowly, like maybe she's tracking with me. "We help them with their hard things. We help them become healthy in their hearts." I pat my chest with my hand. "In here. We help them with what's in here." She smiles wide and nods earnest. I think maybe she gets it--the rest of what I didn't have [...]

God made us. And He seeks us. We feel far from God, most days. We scratch around and try to grab hold of Him, and He seems just out of reach. But feelings are like clouds. They hide reality. The truth is, the sun is there, always. The truth is, God is there, but our feelings hide Him from our sight. So, we pray. We pray in order that we might see what's actually there. We pray that we might feel the warmth of our Father. Prayer was never meant to be an occasional duty we perform. Prayer is a way of living. It is talking. Listening. Acting. It's keeping the conversation going, in faith, with a God who is close by and who hears us. Prayer is reaching out and touching God's chest and finding that there is a heart behind it. Warm. Pulsing. Vibrant. Al[...]

When I was little and before I was adopted, I saw things. And heard things. Things little people were never meant to see or hear. I saw my birth mom prostitute herself with men. She'd bring a different guy home, so many nights, and I really wanted to sleep next to her, so I would curl up down at the end of the bed just so I could be a little bit close. Those things have a way of staying with you. And my birth dad was addicted to pornography, I suppose, so he'd leave the magazines out and I'd look at them so curiously. My birth mom had some crazy sense that those images weren't good for me, so she'd snatch them up. Then fuss at him. Now that I'm all grown up, I think about the irony of that.  Her bringing men home while I slept on a pallet on the floor or at the end of the bed but[...]

  One morning, I sat on the couch and had coffee with my Hope girl. Well, she had some creamer, with a little bit of coffee in it. I asked her if there's anything she's been thinking about lately. She only just had ten things. Ten very big, heavy things, that made her cry into her coffee cup. Ten things that she's been carrying around in that little tender heart of hers--things that made her feel scared and afraid. Some of those things that had created anxiety in her chest, were words I had said out loud to my friends, about my own fears. I didn't realize she was quietly listening. We forget that us grown-ups can process out loud and then be fine. But, kids absorb and worry. There were some words I had rashly and flippantly spoken, that I had to apologize for. So, w[...]

Most days, I crave the sky. I'll be sitting on the couch in the evenings, brain dead, you know, because it's the end of the day, and we're watching a show, and I'll glance outside to see the softest light, slowly fading. I get this itch. I have to get out there. So up I go and steal away out into the backyard, and I find that one big patch of sky through the trees and look up. The sky bellows down, God-glory.  Somehow this helps me breathe in deep again and feel refreshed. I take it all in, the work of my Maker's hands. And sometimes I tell my husband that we need to the drive down to the lake. Because if you can get to the lake, then you can drink in so much sky. I've got this hunger. I need to watch the light breaking in and see the clouds shift and swirl like eddies in a[...]

I met this girl the other day. She'd recently gone through an intense amount of trauma. You could see it in her eyes still. The "I'm terrified but I'm trying real hard to be brave and show up anyways" look. She told me bits and pieces of her story and we prayed. Two strangers, trying to make sense of life and faith and doubt and the hard parts of being human. She told me that for a while there, she hid, down in a deep hole and she couldn't get out. Literally, the trauma had so affected her body, that there were days when she couldn't get out of her bed. But, Jesus came and He was helping. Little by little by little. Helping. Some of us didn't know that Jesus was like this. That He would come looking for us while we're hunkered down, in our hidey holes. We thought that no o[...]

In 1980, I was born in a little town in the South. It happened in Spring, while the earth turned green and the bees droned and the forsythias bloomed. My birth parents were two very broken people. We ran away a lot, from the police, and I got dropped off at stranger's houses and there were foster homes, and I felt lost. But, this is not the story of that. This story is not so much about being lost, as it is about being found. When I was about three or four, it thundered and rained and I stood in a living room, somewhere scared and asked my birth mom why it was so loud. She told me that God and the devil were up in heaven fighting. The thunder was because one of them was mad. That was my first introduction to God. He is up there. Somewhere. And He's in charge, kind of. When[...]

The other day, we took the kids to the splash park. And as I was sitting there, enjoying the wild antics of my children, running and romping in the fountains, I heard a stranger say distinctly, "Dad!" It startled me. Because without warning, I was jolted back to a life where I could talk to my own dear Pa again. That simple word, "Dad," flooded my mind with memories, us laughing over silly things. I sat there crying on the splash pad, turning my face away so no one could see. Good thing there was water all around. Maybe nobody noticed the tears. But, in that moment of grieving, when somehow I wanted to just sit and cry, the Holy Spirit whispered so kindly but swiftly, "Little lovey, just thank Me. Thank Me for all those talks with your Daddy." So, I did. "Thank You, God! For givi[...]