You'd think as a mother of four home-schooled children, worship leader and pastor's wife, that I'd be tired of saying words. And I am. But frequently, when I'd prefer to curl up in bed and play Candy Crush, the Lord gives me all the things to say. Words are how I process life - with all of the joy and all of the tears and everything in between. He lets me tell His story (and mine) through a blog, and when my sister died, He gave me a book to write about her life, her ministry and her legacy. In sharing all of this, my prayer is that my readers see these words as an arrow, pointing straight to the heart of Jesus.

When I married my husband, I said "for better or worse" just like everyone else. But I didn't know how wonderful better would be, and I certainly didn't know how hard worse would be. We have had years of bliss, and years of pain, and you know what? None of the bliss years were filled with bliss, and none of the pain years were only pain.

It's not all highs and lows. Its all just a step. And another. And another.

Its dirty socks on the bathroom floor, and stolen kisses in the hall when the kids aren't looking. Its crying on each others shoulders, and laughing so hard you pass gas.

October 19, 2013

We got snow...a lot of snow for North Carolina. Eight inches graced the area, and 25 degree temps insured it would hang around for several days.

We couldn't get out of our driveway, and so the kids wanted to search of an acceptable place in our subdivision to go sledding. I got everyone dressed in their snow clothes and sent them out, telling them I'd be a few minutes behind them. I knew they wouldn't last too long, since it was so bitterly cold, and I also knew I would freeze to the bone in half that time because I don't own snow gear, other than a pair of boots. So, I was stalling, taking my time in an attempt to save my southern bones from frostbite.

Less than ten minutes passed, and then I heard a screaming child coming toward the house.

"Emergency!!!!" Clay was gasping for breath and yelling at the top of his lungs.

"What?!?!" I met him at the door, only mildly worried. My kids can be a bit on the dramatic side, being that they are MY KIDS and all.

"Faith...and the...creek..." He was breathing so hard it took him a few minutes to get the sentence out, and my entire body froze.

"What creek? Where is that?" I asked, slamming my feet into my boots.

"I'll show you," he gasped again, and we took off running.

February 17, 2014

I've always seen certain weariness in my mental pictures of the Christmas story. The wise men had traveled so far. They must've been tired. The low-class, low-income shepherds had to sleep in the fields, and they were definitely feeling the burdens of their lot in life. Joseph and Mary had been treated unkindly for so many months, holding tightly to a promise only they believed, bearing the weight of all that people thought of them...and I can SEE their shoulders hunched under it. Not to mention their journey to Bethlehem, and how draining that would've been on Mary's body, and Joseph's peace of mind. 

December 22, 2018