I sweep up tid bits of paper into piles. The paper Hopey cut up into scraps to stuff into her teacups and heap onto her plastic pink plates to feed her babes.

There is a God of glory, who always ever was. Breather of stars, Maker of moon and Sculptor of the universe. This is He who knit us together when we were in our mama’s tummy, but who has held us in His heart, long before time, as we know it, began.He is the God with the shining face, because His countenance is full of glory, and glory always shines. And this One with the eyes that blaze like fire turns to the people that He’s made, and He looks right into His children’s eyes and seeks to bless us. And though our hearts are jaded and our souls troubled and full of doubts and fears, He cups our cheeks in His nail-scarred hands and speaks words,  tender and clear.And all the cosmos echo it out--this message reverberating through the skies. In wind and rain and shifting storm clouds. Thro[...]

I've come to the conclusion, in my ripe old age of thirty-two, that life is just hard. Even an easy life is hard. Even a life where you married the man of your dreams, and you have two beautiful and hilarious kids and a nice, comfortable house and a great big yard and you live in a free country with more food in the pantry that you could eat in a week. Even with all that, life can be pretty excruciating on the heart. It just is. We all have our own reasons why.And deep down inside, in the middle of all the hard, we're all just looking for joy. We crave it. We just feel like there's gotta be something more than getting up and going to work and coming home and eating some food and watching a show and going to bed and getting up and doing it all over again. There's gotta be something mo[...]

Some days, fear has this grip on me. Anxiety and worry take its toll and I find it hard to breathe. I can feel it in my skin, literally. Every once in a while, I get the shingles. Shingles isn’t just for old folks, apparently. Shingles can happen to worry warts, too. But, I’m a child of God. A little girl who belongs to a Great King. A Great King who never worries about a thing because He’s the biggest and the strongest. And I’ve got these promises. “The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.” (Deut. 33:27) “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble…The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.” (Psalm 46:1,7)So, I run to my Refuge and I hide in my Strong Tower and I just sit still and remember what I’ve got in Him. I[...]

Little heart, didn't you know? You were made to be brave. You were fashioned to fling off the fear and shed the doubt and catapult over all the angst. But you must keep your eyes on the Valiant One. Yes, all eyes to the King! Him who makes the fraidy-cats into lion-hearts. And little countenance, didn't you know you were made to shine? You are here to be light, to bring out the vibrant colors in the shadow lands. But, you must turn your face to the Brilliance. Him all ablaze and robed in light. He who splits the dark and swallows up the night. On Him keep your gaze. Bask in the sunlight of His face and so shine.  "The Eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms." (Deut. 33:27)"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen yo[...]

Gideon sits at the table, poking at his lunch, and he’s got this curious look on his face. “Mommy, are there trains in heaven?” Every day, it’s a new question. Actually, every day it’s a bazillion new questions, but this day, he wants to know about heaven. “Um, I’m not sure,” I reply, and I can see his disappointment welling, “but I know there will be lots of surprises there for us.” His eyes light up. Now his face is glowing with that child-like wonder. “What kinds of surprises?”  He’s sitting on the edge of his seat. What little interest he had in his lunch is long gone. I think for a moment, “You just have to wait!” I smile and scoop him another bite.  But, he can’twait! He’s three and a half! What three year old can wait for their surprise? My goodness, I have a hard enough t[...]

Here lately, I've been drawing close to God. The One who made me, whose hands fashioned me, knit me together when I was in my mama's tummy. (Psalm 139.) Because God, He says that if we draw close to Him, then He'll draw close to us. And I want to be beside Him, because He's kind.He's not a sky God. You know, the kind who sits on a cloud and yells from the sky every time you do something wrong? And threatens lightning bolts if you don't straighten up?  No, He's not that way. He's the kind that sits down, though He has important things to do, and lets the little kids crawl up on His knee and puts His hand gentle on their head and looks deep into their eyes and He blesses them. (Matthew 19.) And who doesn't want to be next to a God like that?So, this week I've been taking a break from my[...]

Everyday when I wake up, I've got this longing in my deep down heart. I want today to matter. I want it to mean something. I want it to count. I'm not content to just exist. To let life whiz by while I overdose on the narcotic of busyness. So, in my getting from one end of the day to the other, I want today to matter and I want to feel alive.Yes, I want to feel life. Even the part that hurts. I want to feel all of it. Because even the hurting messy parts make me feel alive, and again, I want to feel alive. And I'm finding that I feel most alive when I see beauty. When I hunt for it and find it and then stand a spell and just savor it. And I think it's because God made me and He is beauty. That is, He is Beauty embodied and so He lights up the world with reflections of Himself and sometimes[...]

I think about God a lot. The God of the Bible, that is. It's not because I think that thinking about God makes me religious and I like to feel religious. Actually, the word religious makes me shrink back. It doesn't appeal to me. Maybe because I've been burnt by religious.But, I think about God a lot because when it all comes down, I really do believe that He's there. And sometimes, in spite of what I believe in my deep down heart, I can be ashamed of believing that He's there. Like, I'm some silly little kid who doesn't know yet that Santa Claus isn't actually real, or something like that. I guess because I know a lot of intelligent people and some of those intelligent people don't believe in God. And so I wonder if they think I'm silly for believing. Like the way I thought the girl in fo[...]