Jeannie Pederson 3 Minute Read I cleaned the duck coop yesterday. It was a job I’d been putting off for a long time, hoping that somehow I’d escape. I’m not sure what I thought the alternative was (Maybe it would miraculously clean itself? Maybe my five-year old would do it?) but eventually, it had to be done. So when I…
Katie 3 Minute Read Rather than making a new years’ resolution list, what about creating your own “from – to” list? I started to realize the last few years that the Lord weaves different themes throughout my year. This past year was a journey of the Lord calling me from zealous passion to…
Marian Nicole 10 Minute Read “Trim them as low as possible. You’ve got to be courageous.” I imagined Grandma Vera’s voice pep-talking me. “It’s for their own good.” I was preparing my garden for winter, and there were tears in my eyes. Our last several years have been thick with stress and loss, and this small garden was where I…
Guest Author 8 Minute Read I begin my broken-story narrative on February 10, 2014–the day my son, Titus, had a seizure. What followed was a massive and swift wave that rocked our lives hard between fear, anger, mystery and defeat.
April 7, 2015, Titus was diagnosed with a rare, genetic, and fatal disease. The doctor had no treatment he could prescribe, no cure in sigh. We were going to lose our boy. And worse yet, our youngest son, Ely, was also in danger of having the disease. We were encouraged to get him tested as well.
Kindred Grace Team 5 Minute Read For whom do you carry the stone today? For yourself? For success? For notoriety? For the accomplishment of some great dream that you have held always in your heart? Or is it for Jesus?
Rachelle Rea Cobb 2 Minute Read The story of the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4 has always been a favorite of mine. Perhaps because our first meetings with Jesus were so similar: a thirsty and hopeless heart living an ordinary day suddenly transformed by an extraordinary encounter with the Savior of the world. Jesus went out of His…
Guest Author 7 Minute Read Diamonds draw me. Christmas lights mesmerize me. Anything spangled, sparkly, sequined, “who knows how,” anything glittered or glowing has an unmitigated effect on my soul. I’m always on a quest for that shine, as if it is somehow inexorably linked with the meaning of life.
When I read the words from the Gospel of John, “In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind,” I then understood that the meaning of life was not about me; it was for me. My life originated in the person of Jesus Christ, the creator, originator.
Christy Fitzwater 5 Minute Read Anatomy and physiology was fascinating to me, until the day we walked into the lab and had to dissect a cat. I remember thinking, “Nope.” I sat shamefully and watched my lab team in horror, as they slowly peeled back the layers of that cat and pulled out its insides. My apologies to the friends…
Guest Author 5 Minute Read My four-year-old niece was spending the weekend with me. Whatever I did, she wanted to help. Including when I began loading several large tote bags into my car. She wrapped her arms around one tote in a bear hug and grunted loudly as she picked it up. She had to peer around the bag to see where she was going, and she huffed and puffed as she struggled to carry the load.
When I asked if she needed help, she gasped, “No, I do it myself.”
Natasha Metzler 4 Minute Read It was somewhere around my third anniversary that reality hit hard enough to make me gasp for breath. I really couldn’t have babies. Not without a miracle. I had so many dreams that involved motherhood and they all crumbled around me. I found myself standing there with dying dreams and agony ripping my heart to…
Gretchen Louise 18 Minute Read “Tell me, do you like stories about things that really happened? Wonderful things that the Lord did?” I grew up listening to Allegra McBirney’s stories. Not fairy tales or even parables, but true stories about real little girls and boys all around the world. Our radio didn’t carry her program, “A Time for Sharing”, but…
Natasha Metzler 7 Minute Read The year I turned twelve years old we moved into the upstairs of my grandparent’s house in Northern New York. Until this point my family had been living in far off Homer, Alaska where my father taught at a Bible School. Our interactions with my mom’s parents included a handful of visits, many phone calls,…
The End.
The End.