Falling Off the Grid. . .

Falling Off the Grid. . .

You may not have noticed, but I didn’t post any blogs last week. None. That is the first week since we started the blog in July 2012 that I failed to post. Other than when we’ve had technical glitches and the blogs couldn’t be loaded, or had email issues and the blogs couldn’t be sent to you, the blog has been cranking out little devotional thoughts and ramblings, Monday through Friday,...

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Rain’s Invitation to Worship

It’s been several weeks since we’ve seen any rain. The earth is scorched. The threat of wildfires has left the burn ban in place for over a month. It has been the driest October our state has ever experienced (at least that’s what the record books say). But last night, the rain came. I’m listening to the pouring rain falling on the metal roof and wondering why it evokes such cozy...

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The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Ever had one of those? Sometimes, on the most rotten of days, it’s easy to forget that actually, even at the worst of times, Christians still have the best of situations. For me, one of the most instructive passages in Scripture is Numbers 11.

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Thank YOU!!

Today, I want to pause a moment to say . . . Thank YOU!! I just want to send out a big ol’ “Thank You” card, but you’re getting this blog post instead. This “Thank You” goes out to you precious friends who’ve read Fierce Women and encouraged others to read it.

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The Ultimate Thanksgiving Day

I was putting the turkey in the oven when it hit me hard. This was always my dad’s job. My eyes brimmed quickly and waves of missing him swept over me. My dad wasn’t the cook in the family, but there were two things he faithfully prepared: blueberry pancakes on Sunday mornings before church (thus the reason our family was always a tad late!), and the turkey on Thanksgiving Day. In 2000 he was diagnosed with lymphoma, which six years later went to his brain. In the final four years of his life, he directed the cooking of the turkey from his wheelchair. Well, actually, he didn’t have the mental capacity the last two years, but I would wheel him into the kitchen and tell him that he was “in charge” as I worked away. As he watched me from his wheelchair, he would nod off to sleep, but wake up and smile at me every little bit.

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