A few months ago, I had the incredible opportunity to meet my absolute favorite singer and songwriter. Nichole Nordemann’s music was literally the soundtrack to God’s taking hold of my heart when I was a senior in college, and I have ever since thought of her as something of a spiritual hero to me. I wrote in greater detail about her role in my long, slow, permanent change here —> Clouds Overhead Since that
I had a bad feeling about things, so I rested my hand as gently as I could on the tiny rabbit in my lap and began to pray. “Lord, if this tiny animal is in any pain, take that pain away. Show me what to do to help. But if not, God….somehow be glorified in this situation.” All around, it was a strange situation. That morning’s sunlight had been so
I’m sitting at my desk – in my office – for the first time in almost a week. I preached at my home church a week ago, and that sermon consumed me. Absolutely consumed me. I told my congregation at church on Sunday that I had been in a wrestling match with the Holy Spirit all week, and that is really the best way I can describe it. Based
For over two years, I have kept the tradition of taking a picture a day – just one picture – that represents my day. I take the snapshot on my phone, and – using the marvelous Rhonna app – add text to explain that day’s picture. I finish by uploading it to a special album on my personal Facebook page. More often than not, the picture is of my daughter: her
I’ve always been open about my struggle with depression, generalized anxiety, and panic disorder. I don’t keep it a secret, mainly because it doesn’t do me any good to hold it in and it doesn’t do you any good if I act like I don’t have any problems. There are no secrets here. I recently had to go back to my psychiatrist for the first time in nearly seven years.
It’s been a rough few months with my daughter, as she’s navigating the delicate social mores of first grade and slowly accepting the responsibilities that come with being seven years old. She is still delightful, but as she is changing my husband and I often feel like we’re tiptoeing around her to avoid upsetting her somehow. (This rarely works, by the way.) It’s gotten old, if I’m honest, and more
In the wee, dark hours of the morning, I carefully eased myself back into bed, not wanting to wake up my husband sleeping next to me. He hadn’t been asleep long, and there was no telling how long it would be before he would be awakened again. Our newborn daughter slept next to our bed in a bassinet, finally at peace with the world. “I hope I can get back
Every year God reveals something new to me about Christmas. About how Mary must have felt, for example, the year I myself was large with child. About how God’s illogical love for us makes Christmas possible in the first place. About how Jesus came as a baby in order to understand what we endure through life in these earthly bodies. About how Christmas comes whether we’re ready or not, but it’s
I understand where you are. You’re a woman of faith. You believe in Jesus and have experienced His touch of grace and salvation on your life. You know who He is and have personal stories of who He is to you. But you’re sad. Your feet feel like lead and there is a constant lump in your throat. Life….literally just living and breathing and existing…is exhausting. Or you’re panicked.
I wrote a post every day during the month of October, and then it seems I forgot how to blog. Believe me – I know how few and far between my posts have been lately. But can I be totally honest? It’s been a really hard couple of months for me. I don’t feel well – ever – and my time has been exhaustingly spent going from one doctor to