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Mark Keathley’s painting “Mountain Glory” overlooks our living room. Occasionally, I take a deep breath, sit back, and step into that painting to stare at the scene before me. Clusters of perky purple flowers stand at attention beneath my feet. Stacks of cold, gray rocks poke their heads up through the greenness all around me.…

I’m glad to see you again. It’s been a while. The last four months have been spent working on a special project that I hope to share with you soon. God has been working hard, teaching me to hold onto joy and peace during chaotic circumstances! Today, topsy-turvy is the best way some describe their…

John Fogerty wrote Credence Clearwater Revival’s hit song, “Someday Never Comes.” The 70s song begins with:  “First thing I remember was asking Papa, ‘Why?’ For there were many things I didn’t know. And Daddy always smiled, took me by the hand, saying, ‘Someday, you’ll understand.’” Fogerty’s impatient longing for “Someday” continues throughout the song’s verses, but…

Ever tried to peel one of those tough onions? You know, the kind that takes the very tip of the knife to pierce through that outer layer of skin? Tough exteriors always make me wonder what conditions must have been present for that outer layer to become so thick.  Saul the Pharisee needed the sharp, pointed rays…

Last month, Ron and I celebrated 45 years of marriage. Several years ago, I wrote this to honor the man who loves me so well. Celebrating those we love again and again is a good thing. **************************** God, knowing His complete plan for bringing mankind into an intimate relationship with Himself, smiled as he looked…

Red flags whipped wildly in the leftover winds of Tropical Storm Ida. Beach authorities posted warning signs: “No swimming! Rip Currents!” A few adventurous souls combed the beach with hands on their hats while shorts flapped and jackets snapped. But NO ONE dared dip a toe into the ocean’s fury. Her once-peaceful waters had grown…

The waitress poured us another cup of coffee. Not seeing the bottom of our cups for a couple of hours would earn her a nice tip. Measly morsels from breakfast lingered on empty plates as we slowly revealed our crumbs of angst. Realizing we’d both had similar frustrating weeks, my friend sighed, “I started to…

Whenever I feel the urge to splurge for dinner, my craving often shoves me toward a hefty hunk of pot roast. My only problem is that I can’t just whip it up in a jiffy. It takes some time and patience – even in the instant pot. I’m a bit persnickety about fat, so I…