Blog
From and about women who love Jesus and want to share His message through Scripture, everyday inspirations, and relatable stories.
Situated between Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, the Bay of Fundy had fascinated my husband and I many years ago when we were passing through the area on our way home from Prince Edward Island. Now on a vacation to Nova Scotia, Canada, we decided to visit Burntcoat Head National Park to see the Bay once again—this time from the other side.
After my husband’s first cancer diagnosis, we met with the surgeon, who worked hard to put us at ease. After surgery, we waited for the results to see if the cancer had metastasized from the tumor and spread throughout his body. Though we felt God was present, He didn’t speak words of comfort or assurance to us, but it seemed to us that He would.
“If I could promise you that if you wake up tomorrow morning at 5 a.m. to have a quiet time, you will hear the audible voice of God, would you do it?” My pastor started a recent message with that question, and I immediately thought, “YES!”
Once upon a time, I shared my life with Charlotte (not her real name). Although we didn’t live in the same town, she and I prayed for each other regularly, cheering one another on.
A few years ago, Jonathan and I found ourselves in the heart of Africa, on a safari that felt more like stepping into a living psalm than a vacation. The wild unfolded before us—raw, breathtaking, and untamed.
The offer of a one-to-one mentor is one of the most enticing reasons people consider joining a cohort for the leadership development ministry I lead at our local church. I sense a deep desire with emerging leaders for a companion and guide on their spiritual journey. The problem?
Apparently, rehab centers aren’t known for making good coffee. “What can I bring you the next time I come?” I’d asked Dad at the conclusion of a visit. “Bring me a good cup of coffee,” he said. So the next day, I skipped Sunday school and headed to the rehab center. Dad had been admitted weeks before to try to regain strength to go home, but instead he’d grown steadily weaker.
Music blared through the sound system. My husband, oldest daughter, youngest son, and I all huddled in prayer. The announcer reminded us (and the thousands of other runners) that we only had five more minutes to find our assigned corrals. We gave each other one last hug then divided to find our places.
When you hear “routine,” does the word make you cringe or feel empowered? Do you feel constrained by a routine, or do you feel a sense of freedom? Does the concept feel like a weighty reminder of everything you’re not doing perfectly, or are you someone who’s constantly looking for inspiration on how to refine your routine? The concept of routine often feels like candy corn; people either love it or they hate it!