There is a deep desire in many to feel useful.  To be busy.  To feel needed.  When that desire is not met it brings great disappointment. A dear friend of mine walked away from a job because she didn’t feel needed.  Her presence created a sense of comfort for others because the role she filled kept them from being distracted from their work.  But she needed more to do than just be a presence in a place. She needed to feel needed.  She needed for her hands and mind to be engaged.  She was bored.  She wanted to believe that…

Then Peter came and said to Him, “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?”  Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.  Matthew 18:21-22 (NASB) I am beginning to think the old saying “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks” is true.  I am struggling here.  The brain power it takes to learn new concepts may prove to exhaust all mental aptitude in me.  Zap it right out of me! I started a new job last year. …

A glance in the wrong direction can easily knock you off course.  I am obsessed with sunrises.  And January seems to have the best!  Too many times I have glanced to behold the beauty and I swerve.  The pinks and oranges and purples and fire-lit blues just beckon me to see.  Like I want to reach out and grab it.  Hold the beauty.  To just sit and be mesmerized.  But wait, I am driving. Sometimes things in this world can cause us to look in a direction other than the way we are heading.  Not always a good thing, especially…

Compassion House is approaching its 4th anniversary. In August 2013, an overwhelming presentation was made at a small country church that stirred the hearts of some to begin a mission within our very doors. A mission that could be served by those that are called to a mission field but one close to home, not in another state or another country.   So after months of planning, it happened. Not heavily attended by those in need but a few sought it out. Spiritual counseling and prayer always comes first. Then a trip to the pantry. Items in the pantry limited…

Who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.  1 Peter 1:5 (NASB) My doors get locked. I wear a seatbelt. Sunscreen is a must. I even set an alarm for security. I watch my surroundings when out and about. If the dogs bark outside, I look out the window with caution and a pounding heart. None of these things protect me.  Not really. The seatbelt may have held tight if that young man on the phone would have rear-ended me last week.  I saw him miles back…

I grew up in Greenville, Florida.  It is a small town that you could easily miss if you blink as driving through.  It has my roots.  It holds my memories of childhood. I can’t imagine growing up anywhere else.  And as I remember, I remember the people I really wanted to be friends with and those that never treated me as an outcast.  I remember hurt from the ones that I really wanted to be friends with.  I remember isolation and ugly attitudes.  Bad memories for a childhood, huh? But those that never treated me as an outcast.  They always…

The call came at an unexpected time and certainly from an unexpected person.  It was a call that screamed she cared.  And in the midst of a self-centered pity party that has gone on way too long, she shook me. She made me think of just one year prior when we all went on retreat.  And we spoke of being shaken.  “Give, and it will be given to you.  They will pour into your lap a good measure – pressed down, shaken together, and running over.  For by your standard of measure it will be measured to you in return.” …

I drape a blanket over my shoulders.  It brings comfort from the cool morning air.  I wake and rise to click keys.  It brings comfort from the jumbled thoughts in my brain. I pray to God.  He brings comfort to a troubled soul. And as I pray, I list Who He Is. Shelter.  Thinking of this old blanket bringing warmth.  This old thing can’t hold a candle to His Shelter. Provider.  It goes much farther than physical provisions.  He is the Provider of my salvation. Resident.  Ah-ha.  Yes.  R.E.S.I.D.E.N.T.  His Holy Spirit is a resident inside me.  I like a…

So many of these posts seem incomplete. As I read back over my heart and mind and thoughts poured out in letters and words and pictures, many feel unfinished. Like reading one chapter of a book and not continuing to chapter two. What happens next?  There is no way to know unless you continue. But what importance does that continuing hold. At times it seems completely useless and a silly waste of time. And then other times it seems life depends on it. Like air for my lungs, it is necessary to keep living.  Which of these words may be…

He wanted to know how many t-shirts could be made from that field.  His growing mind always wondering.  Good question, I thought.  I have no clue.  But that white… Bursting white amidst the still green foliage.  The tender purity of the contents erupting from such a sturdy stalk.  The thick, hard walls of the boll no longer able to contain the pure white begging to be seen.  So much light has been poured into that boll and that purity will not be contained any longer. Weren’t his words bursting from a place of purity?  He doesn’t yet have the weight…