I Tackled the Text, then the Text Tackled Me

Relentless Weapons{After months of intense work on this project, I’m thrilled to open the Relentless shop today! Get a copy for yourself, and better yet, join a HelloMornings group where my study will be featured August 24-October 2. I’ve been excited to hear about HelloMornings Relentless groups forming at my home church, at my parents’ church, and through my local book club! I’m also encouraged to hear of independent in-person groups, like the one my sister-in-law is forming in the San Francisco area this fall. Whatever you do with the study, I’d love to be a support for you as you dig through this important text, so be sure to keep in touch.}

One of the things I value most in life and friendship is authenticity. I’d take someone’s hot temper over a cold shoulder any day, because it gives me a real picture of a situation or relationship and allows me to address any issues head-on. Maybe that’s why I did the crazy thing of taking on the book of Judges. This book tells us the good, the bad, and the ugly about the people of God. There are no whitewashed tombs here. Israel’s decay is laid out in the open for all to see.

As a highly-sensitive person who can’t watch violent movies without shielding my eyes the majority of the time, this book has been heavy lifting. I’ve stayed up late into the night for weeks on end tackling a text that, at times, has tackled me. Continue reading

Becoming Unshakable {A Guest Post}

psalm168-FBSocial media is a funny thing. It’s sort of like a party where you’re having one conversation and overhearing bits and pieces of other conversations nearby. Sometimes there’s so much chatter it’s hard to get all the details of the conversation right in front of you. So it was as my writer friend Nancy shared about her fight with cancer. I knew she’d dealt with the diagnosis before and was now dealing with it again. I prayed for her and looked for updates on her wall, but it wasn’t until I sat down with Nancy’s book in hand that I got the whole story Continue reading

How God Comments on a Blog Post

rockpilecontemplationI don’t expect much when I hit publish on a blog post. I know there’s a lot to read on the Internet and my writing takes a little longer to dig into than most. I’m just about as slow in writing social media posts as I am with posting pieces on the blog, so getting my work in front of a wider readership has never really been a natural thing for me. And so, when I finish a new piece and hit the button to send it into the ether, I usually look for a comment from my mom and maybe a friend or two (Thank you to those who chime in!). And that’s that.

But with this Stacking Stones post, I’ve been chatting back and forth with another commenter about the theme of rocks, remembrance and cathedrals of stone. Continue reading

Turning Two: A Mini Coming of Age {A Peter Rabbit Party}

I’ve always called her my snuggle-bunny…a springtime baby who loves to curl up in your lap, put her thumb in her mouth and tuck her head into the crevice of your neck. But even the most gentle of babies must at some point catapult herself from the cradle of the caregiver’s arms. Continue reading

Through Thorny Ways

MasonJarRosesHymn{Gracia Rose turned two this week. I plan to post photos from this year’s party soon, but for now, here is a little background about her name and some recent reflections along with some pictures from the Rose Garden Party we hosted to celebrate her first birthday last year.}


My thin sweater did nothing to ward away the chill in the air. The smell of wet earth hung on the wind. I slopped my high heels through grass and mud on the way to the stadium where my littlest brother would be sliding the tassel from one side of his cap to the other, crowded in by hundreds of other robed students doing the same.

Murky water seeped into my shoes on my walk to the concrete. I wanted to grumble, but all I could think about were the waterlogged feet of a woman on the other side of the world, a woman wandering with holes in her boots and a gun to her head. She had walked that way for days, then weeks, then months. By now it had been almost a year since she and her husband were forced from a bungalow on their second honeymoon by a gang of rebels.

The woman’s name was Gracia. And I prayed for her. Continue reading