Psalm 125 offers a simple, steady promise: those who put their trust in you, Lord, cannot be shaken. It’s a bold statement, almost too bold for the way most of us move through our days. And yet this week, as my back went out and forced me to slow down, I found myself living inside that promise in a new way.
Continue reading “An Unshakable Trust”
Jesus’ parable of the wooden beam is one of his most piercing invitations. “Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?” The image is almost humorous and exaggerated, impossible, and yet painfully accurate. We are often far more aware of the small faults of others than the large, shaping patterns within ourselves. Not because we are malicious, but because seeing clearly is costly. It asks something of us.
Continue reading “Choosing to See”
Sometimes God speaks in the most ordinary places like in the checkout line at the grocery store. I was standing there, caught up by the busyness of shopping on a holiday weekend when a magazine cover caught my eye. The simple words rose from the glossy page like a quiet summons: an invitation to linger longer.
Continue reading “An Invitation to Linger”
Traveling for business can make life feel rushed and impersonal—airports, elevators, hotel rooms that all blur together. But every now and then, something breaks through the routine and calls us deeper.
Continue reading “A Small Sign, a Stirred Heart”
On a quiet sabbath morning, Jesus steps into the synagogue and teaches. ( Luke 6:6-11) A man with a withered hand stands nearby, not asking for anything, not drawing attention to himself. Yet Jesus sees him. He also sees the scribes and Pharisees watching, not with hope but with suspicion, waiting for a reason to accuse. Still, Jesus does not let their hostility hold him back. He brings the man forward, right into the center of the room, and asks the question that reveals everything:
Continue reading “Stretch Out Your Hand”
There are heroes whose names fill history books and then there are the quiet ones, the ones who rise each morning and choose love over fear, faith over despair, courage over the frailty of the human body. My husband is one of those heroes.
Continue reading “Honoring a Quiet Hero”
Some stories stop you in your tracks. Diane Butler Bass’s reflection in The Cottage on a recent event did that for me this week and it opened a door in my heart I didn’t want to walk through but knew I needed to and to write about it.
Continue reading “Love Anyway”
Labor Day invites us to pause and honor the dignity of work, not only the work done with our hands, but the work done with our hearts. Few voices speak more clearly into this moment than Brother Lawrence, the 17th‑century Carmelite whose little book, The Practice of the Presence of God, continues to reshape how we understand spirituality.
Continue reading “A Pathway to Presence”
We move through our days surrounded by gifts we barely notice, small mercies, quiet provisions, gentle nudges of grace. Yet what usually captures our attention are the irritations: the traffic, the fatigue, the interruptions, the things that don’t go our way. These inconveniences rise to the surface quickly. They color our mood. They drain our energy. They shape the orientation of our heart far more than we realize.
Continue reading “The Doorway of Humility”
There is a quiet truth about being human that we rarely name: each of us is bound by something. Some burdens are heavy and outward like poverty, oppression, the weight of systems that limit and wound. Others live deep inside such as prejudice we didn’t choose, fear we can’t quite shake, addictions we may not even recognize as shaping our days.
Continue reading “Standing Together”
