Viewing entries posted in 2011
I’m not a fan of Valentine’s Day. I never have been, but working in a flower shop solidified my lack of love for the day. I tend to push back against things that are cheesy or contrived, and Valentine’s Day has always felt that way to me.
We sat sipping our coffees and checking our smart phones, a sprinkling of conversation here and there. I was afraid I was going to be late, as I snuck into the back row right as Sunday school got started.
I used to be terrified of my heart. My head and I were great friends. I could research and learn and file facts away and lean on them when I didn’t know what to do or think or say. But my heart… my heart was deep water that I was scared to dive into.
Over Spring Break we dog sat for some friends of ours. They have a black lab that is less than a year old and adorable. The last day they were with us my son put him in his kennel but didn’t close the door.
Did you see it? I admit it, a few weeks ago I jumped on the supermoon bandwagon. The upside of getting up at 3:30am means you get some amazing views in the sky. and that November morning was spectacular.
The last few weeks this verse has come to my mind over and over again. It wasn’t until today that I had time to sit with it and ask God what He was so persistently trying to tell me. I’ve felt like I haven’t had any words lately.
It happened more than a year ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. We were standing in the hallway. It was Sunday, right before church. I had paused to say hi to a group of ladies when she walked by. The minute she was out of ear shot it started.
Maybe your life has been shook up like that quake disrupted a quiet, peaceful Saturday morning. We all find ourselves at the doorstep of fear wondering if everything is going to crumble. It’s remarkable to me that God offers us Jesus as our cornerstone and His strength as our foundation.
Last week I sat in a dark auditorium and watched my daughter and four of her friends perform a one act play that she had written. I always cry when any of my kids performs, whether it’s singing in the choir, acting in a play, or chasing a ball in sports.
I have four new scars on my body that I didn’t have a month ago. Four lines of pink skin that marks the spots the surgeon’s instruments were placed. Those four scars join a host of others. Some visible, many hidden. All of them with a story to tell.