Why does God answer some prayers and not others? I honestly don’t know. I’m so thankful that God provided a wonderful husband in Ben. I couldn’t be happier! Ben was married previously for 24 years and his wife, a physician, was tragically murdered in front of her medical clinic. They never had children. To this day, we still both struggle with showing up at church on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.  Unanswered prayer can be deeply painful.

Three and a half years ago, my husband, John, had a stroke. It left him a little less able to do what he had done before, and year after year we are “outwardly wasting away.” When I look to the future, I don’t know what’s coming. I desire to know the Lord. I tell him about my concerns and circumstances and share my joys with him. As I’ve learned, he desires to share himself with me. He wants to pour out his heart to me in his Word and through his Spirit. 

It is deeply healing to know that the circumstances that threatened to distort our stories are the very places where God’s glory was planted within us. His presence closes our wounds, gives us the ability to forgive, and allows us to fully grieve losses. These things remain part of our story, but how we tell it is reframed to reflect the goodness that God brings through each chapter.

Do you need the Lord to “show up” for you too? Are you looking to him? Read the Christmas story again and rejoice in God’s faithfulness to his word. God will fulfill his promises for you. He can show up and accomplish things on your behalf.

Somewhere along the journey of ministry, many of us—maybe most of us—absorb the quiet message that we’re supposed to hold it all together. Keep the team running. Keep the family cared for. Keep our face composed, our hearts soft, our inbox cleared, and our Bible study prepped.

And yet—behind the gentle smile or the well-crafted sermon—there’s often a deep weariness. A loneliness. Even grief. If that’s where you are right now, friend, can I say this as clearly as possible?

You don’t have to hold it all together. In fact, you were never meant to.

I couldn’t stop thinking. Just one more thing to do, then I could finally relax. But that moment never came. Life was moving fast as a wife, mom, employee, and pastor’s wife. I was constantly in motion, doing good things, but slowly losing connection with the One I was doing them for. Then came the moment that forced me to stop. In a rush to finish laundry, I slipped on the stairs and fractured my ankle. Suddenly, I was sidelined—physically and spiritually.

In that stillness, God spoke.

Forgetting is easier now than ever as aging kicks in, and I forget what I did yesterday. However, when I clean out a closet or go through attic boxes or the garage cupboards, I'm sure to find some long-forgotten “treasure” that will swoosh me back to a moment that evokes pleasant (or maybe not so pleasant) memories.

It all started on a Thursday in August. I woke up during the night in severe pain. Even the smallest movement caused shooting pain through my core. The pain was so bad I almost cried.

For almost three weeks, I struggled to feel better, wondering if pruning trees for a few hours had caused such a problem. I sat most of the time because I experienced excruciating pain in my ribs when I moved.

Jesus walking on the water. I had read this passage many times and did not really expect much to jump out at me. I answered all my homework questions, feeling confident that I was prepared for group study later that week. We opened our Bibles, read that passage, and then someone turned our attention to one word in the passage: immediately.

Have you ever found yourself lacking the motivation to open your Bible apart from just knowing you should? I found myself in a dry spell like that for years. Recently, God has been so kindly and organically developing my love for his word in connection to our relationship. Sadly, somewhere along the way (or maybe from the very beginning) that got disconnected for me.

But, God.

She didn’t want to hear me play my violin, but when I offered to sing for her, she agreed. I pulled out the “Fifty Most Beloved Movie Hits” book and started singing some of the songs I recognized. It felt a little strange to be singing love songs to this elderly widow who honestly hasn’t always been that friendly or receptive to chaplain visits. So, after three songs, I offered to leave.

In August 2024, I felt God was letting me know that I needed “to be ready to turn on a dime,” or as my friend Cindy would say: pivot. Mind you, I had no idea what God was going to be doing in my life, but he was preparing me.

The Bible contains everything we need for the beautiful music, the plan he has for our lives. And as our eyes are locked on him, our focus solely on his lead, we know what to do, when to do it, following the notes he’s written, glancing up at him to maintain the rhythm. Being content to play the part he’s given us, not jealous of another’s instrument.

“When I feel afraid, I talk to Jesus,” she told me. She looked at me with her clear blue eyes, words simple and straightforward.

“Oh! That’s wonderful,” I said. “Tell me more!”

“He looks right at me.”

Playfully, I asked her, “Out of curiosity, what color are his eyes?”

“Blue,” she told me.

People have always struggled with loneliness at one time or another. But now it’s far more persistent—due to increased technology, habits we developed from the COVID lockdowns, reliance on AI, and the convenience of looking online for not just essentials, but relationships and social connections too. I call this “the new loneliness” in which we now tend to look at screens more than faces, text more than talk, and conduct our business online rather than in person. The result? Fewer conversations. Even less transparency. Next to zero relationships. Loneliness.

The sign held a note of desperation: LOOKING FOR JESUS. PLEASE BRING HIM BACK!
 
Drivers passed by the house in their neighborhood to see the beautiful Nativity displayed at Christmas. They admired the wooden stable and statues of Mary and Joseph gazing at Jesus lying in the manger.

Five days before Christmas, my family had no job, no money, and no gifts under our little Christmas tree propped in the corner. Our three children had taken the news “No gifts this year” bravely. They were sad but accepted that this year we would focus on Christ’s humble birth, make little gifts for each other, and bake cookies together. We all agreed that no one would tell anyone outside of our family our plans for a warm, cozy, but bleak holiday. 

These believers lived in a world where daily existence was exhausting, starvation was a real possibility, death regularly came knocking, and yet they trusted God was with them and heard their prayers. Their perseverance came in part from their hopeful expectation: God was with them and would hear their prayers. They also believed this world was not their home. To quote Bradford, “They knew they were pilgrims,” just passing through.

When life is going well, it is easy to think that we would have faith to weather all the storms of life. I wonder if Jesus’ apostles thought they could, especially when they were in a boat during a thundering deluge.

Have you ever been likened to someone who is in no way similar to you? Have you ever been compared and considered worse than another person? How did you respond? Often, we feel angry and frustrated. We want to defend our good name and find a way to feel powerful, not powerless. When anger overwhelms us, we think we have the capability to correct the situation, but we realize after we calm down that nothing good was accomplished, and most often, the situation worsened.

We shared our longings, experiences, challenges, heartaches, and questions that lingered in our hearts. We were able to listen and support each other’s desire for more of God by paying attention to the movement of God in our lives through these disciplines. We prayed for one another and encouraged each other by sharing testimonies of God’s faithfulness.

Since Mother’s Day, I have been considering the importance of leaving a legacy. What exactly is a legacy? Webster's dictionary defines it as “something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past.”

My life had plenty of rubble. It was such a challenge for me to surrender my plans, hopes, fears, and need to be in control over to Jesus and allow him to be my guide, teacher, and the unconditional lover of my soul. I know we all come from diverse backgrounds and life experiences, and this may not be your story, but personally, I found it uncomfortable to receive. I wanted to be the captain of my ship and the master of my own fate. I did not realize that this was where the embers of sin began to set fires in my life.

He loves her so much that he called me seven months before to come across the world to Kenya! Yes, he knew what she needed that day before she did. That is amazing love!

You are infinite love. Your love is uncontained. Your love is not meant to be contained. It is to be lived out.

She jumped out of the booster seat onto the floor of the minivan, and reached for her mom to help her onto the ground. At four years old the world was such a big place—and so fascinating! Every visit to the park, the library, the store, and the science museum promised new adventures and raised her excitement levels.

Several years ago, I was privileged to attend an adoption ceremony that touched me deeply. A special family was adopting a precious little boy. As the official proceedings took place, I experienced a fresh insight into our relationship with our heavenly Father.

There’s one thing about the Holy Ghost. You just never know when he’s gonna make something into a teaching moment. So, a couple of weeks ago, when I was thinking about the Kingdom of God, and praying, “Your kingdom come, O Lord,” the Holy Spirit said something that upended some of my theology. 

“Don’t you mean our kingdom?” 

For a second, I didn’t know what to think. 

Twenty-four years ago, I wondered what role women had in Church, beginning a lifelong journey of questioning, serving, and then questioning some more. All while simply being available to where God would have me.

My questioning stemmed from having been raised as a missionary kid (MK) in France with exposure to various theological perspectives from multiple denominations.