When the Doctors Have No Answers

When the Doctors Have No Answers

“We just don't know.” That's not the words you want to hear coming from your care team (who operates under the direction of one of the world's most respected neurologists). The words hit hard. When my husband and I make our regular trip to his doctors at UT Southwestern, we always go hoping for answers, looking for a solution, praying for an encouraging prognosis.

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Praying Big

Praying Big

I’m asking big for my husband. I’m asking that God would display His merciful character and bring healing and relief from the pain. I’m asking for God’s will to be done, and for Him to prepare our hearts to receive what He has for us. And I’m asking with an open hand. Will you join me?

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Riding the Roller Coaster of Illness

Riding the Roller Coaster of Illness

I’ve never liked roller coasters. Ever. I just don’t get the point. Zooming through open air, way beyond heights that are safe, and then dropping so fast that you prepare to throw up. Not to mention slinging around corkscrew turns so hard that it triggers muscle spasms in your neck. And why in the world would any sane person enjoy risking flying off a track that probably hasn’t actually been inspected by someone truly concerned about safety? Really.

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Reaching the Silent Sufferers

Reaching the Silent Sufferers

There is a very good chance that you walked past someone in church last Sunday who has been sexually assaulted—but has never shared that with anyone. According to the Department of Justice, one in four women, and one in six men, are sexually abused in their lifetime. Throughout almost four decades of ministry, I’ve found that most people hide their abuse, are ashamed, and often blame themselves. They are the silent sufferers.

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Preparing a Safe Place for the Abused

Preparing a Safe Place for the Abused

Still the nightmares come. She knows the Word better than most. She’s committed to Christ—wants to live as a faithful woman of God—but her heart is weary and doubts assail her as the onslaught of horrific memories and pain continues . . . for years. For decades. And I want to be more than just a praying friend. I want to “fix it,” but I don’t have that power. Only One does.

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