Reflection of Providence

Amy found a video I had posted of Steven when I still worked for the Scalf’s. I had forgotten about that day. We had done an experiment with food coloring, vinegar, and baking soda. A bit overstimulated Steven took the level of fun up a notch. It was as equally beautiful as it was messy. I remember, even at the time, I  didn't  think that it was extreme. It was, well, just Steven. I like the struggle. I might not exactly enjoy the moment to moment battle, but the struggle is life preserving. What I do not like is to feel numb. The numbing fills me with utter dread. It turns me to a pillar of salt. Animated limbs, automatic motion; like a zombie whose sole purpose is to consume. And consume I have; copious amounts of food, television, thoughts, books, work. Yet, I have kept Him one arm’s length away. My job at the Hope Lodge is a ministry, there is no other way one could do the job I do. Yet, it has become a consuming centrifugal force pulling me away from my true...

Oh the sweet lessons of God! There are moments that stagger. I am undone at how our precious Jesus continually displays His inestimable character and wondrous heartbeat for His children. There is a crucial difference in living and serving if a dream does not become reality and laughing at the thought of God providing a blessing beyond, what you deem, your zenith. I am more careful and cautious in my reverence of His will over my life. I am learning to carve out hallowed spaces and kneel barefoot on holy ground before Him. The lesson He taught has ushered me into a season of rejoicing. I wish we were all sitting around the campfire at this moment. I would love to share this story amidst wood smoke, roasted marshmallows, and amber glow. The stories we could weave and spin. I have a feeling there would be great rejoicing over what God is doing in our lives. In fact, as I type, a thought came to mind – share your ‘campfire story’. If you blog about it make sure that you tag me so I...

“Do you think I’m pretty? I think you’re beautiful. Beautiful? You are so beautiful, it hurts sometimes.” - Richelle Mead, Vampire Academy   “You are altogether beautiful, my darling, and there is no blemish in you! - Song of Solomon 4:7   I won’t walk the road of circumstance that led me to feel ugly. That stretch of highway is a bit too painful. Even as I type the memories shred. They tempt with falsities, asking me to walk down the unbidden road of self-loathing and self-pity. It has taken me all of 34 years to understand what it means to be beautiful: a beauty that transcends human desire and human ideals. I think this is a common thread in a woman’s life. We are taught at a young age not to accept ourselves. We don’t take praise easily. We undermine the things we have done well. Like a bitter pill, we swallow admiration. It is as if by not completely accepting our worth we retain some semblance of humility. How did we come to believe ...

“The snow reminded me of the beauty and mystery of creation of the essential joy that is life.” – Orhan Pamuk As a child the snow enchanted. I was fascinated how this frozen precipitation so easily changed everything it touched. I was always saddened when the smooth layers of glistening white were muddied by footsteps or vehicles. It seemed a travesty – an interruption to serene tranquility. Transitioning into adulthood and responsibility snow has become an inconvenience. A wonderful friend turned bully. “She is not worried about the cold or snow for her family, for she has clothed them all in warm, crimson coats.” – Proverbs 31:21 The Voice I wish I could say I did not worry about the cold or snow, but the foot of snow in the Bluegrass area was difficult. I was angry at the snow, and if I were completely honest, a little angry with God. Why would He do such a thing? Can’t winter just be over? Why do we have to have this season anyway? You see, I work for an establishment that...

“It’s like the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness & danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end…because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing…this shadow. Even darkness must pass.” – Sam (JRR Tolkien The Two Towers) The cool air condensed in corners of the moving vehicle. The interior, warm, seemed hallowed ground. The music swelled, carrying a cadence of mystery. The wonder of the cutting landscape – moon: half sphere mystical – transported the inhabitant from the back roads of Lexington, KY to the hills and dales of The Shire. I don’t recall the exact moment when I walked into the world of JRR Tolkien via Peter Jackson’s film interpretation, but I do remember the feeling – the tangible impact it made in my life. It is as if I left a piece of my heart in Middle Earth. It is a place where little folk do amazin...

  “If I were called upon to state in a few words the essence of everything I was trying to say both as a novelist and as a preacher, it would be something like this: Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom & pain of it no less than in the excitement & gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy & hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are key moments & life itself is grace.” -        Frederick Buechner I ended a prayer in my journal like this: “Lord, I like finality…but I am striving for journey!”   Those that know me well know that I am a little left of center. I tend to lean toward the mystery and mythical of this life. While I certainly can dwell in dark places, I try to see them as adventures instead of desperate situations. It isn’t always easy to navigate, but I am learning that I do not walk this journey alone. At the close of 20...

I know that I have life only insofar as I have love.   I have no love except it come from Thee.   Help me, please, to carry this candle against the wind.   -       Wendell Berry, “I”, Leavings P. 33   Anna pulled the minivan into the gravel drive that ran along the back of the house. Stones crunched hard under rubber tires. Placing the vehicle into park she glanced at Thomas sleeping soundly in his car seat. This enigmatic soul she birthed four years ago was a gentle balm. The road had been harsh, made rocky under the weight of selfish choices. Yet, God continued to fan embers, stirring Anna’s heart to His. She knew His purpose for her life was lasting. The chill air caught her breath in frosted plumes of smoke. It sent a shiver running across her neck and down her spine. She quickly exited the vehicle shutting her door quietly. She had just begun to pull packages and luggage from the open ...