I’m delighted once again to share a devotional with you from Mary Johnson, may it fill your day with light! _____________________________________________ Walk in the light of His love. What is your tone, what does it sound like? Is it covered in the light of Jesus’ love? He provides that light for us. You can sayContinue reading “The Light of Love”
A dear friend of mine, Mary Johnson, brings us a word for the moment. Which moment? Every one that we live. Enjoy. ________________________________________ I remember when I was a young girl, I never wanted to go outside to play. My mom and I were reminiscing about it the other day. She asked me, “Do youContinue reading “The Knock at the Door”
Malaria kills 1,200 children daily, about 50 per hour, around the world. 90% of those deaths occur in Africa. Earlier this year, we handed out 200 mosquito nets in a rural area outside of Bujumbura city and I wonder how we can do more, help more and prevent more deaths.
Chase the dream, it’s worth the wait.
On a side note, another innocuous change in me as a parent as I’ve grown older is found in my lunch offerings for my fourth child, our bonus baby. Yesterday, she had samosas (a fried slightly spicy meat pie that is the food of heaven) and marshmallows for lunch. I was tempted to feel “parent shame” until my oldest son (who I had messaged her menu to) said, “It’s ok. Let her enjoy life.”
The student has become the teacher!
It’s hard to live out our convictions in an increasingly hostile world – and I’m not only talking about the hostility we see on the news or internet. In our personal, day-to-day lives it’s not uncommon to come face-to-face with intense rejection any time we choose to go against the grain of what is “the norm.”
Inside I feel, as I suppose many of us do, the need to be understood and accepted. I easily concur with the above verse from Romans; the only debt I have to others is to love them. However, I want others to love and accept me and my natural tendency is to explain things away to gain approval.
I still like the bed made and dishes washed and he still likes lists. Maybe I should write him a list about the dishes and bed? Nah, that might be pushing it.
Still, it remains in my mind some days later, the picture of the children’s shoes outside the front door of the house on a warm Sunday afternoon. I can feel the warm breeze blowing through the front door, hear the weeping of children, and feel the sting of death – and there was my little girl in the middle taking part in the “ministry of presence.”
I’ve come to the realization that my eyesight simply isn’t what it used to be…