It’s 6am and morning’s earliest light sneaks through the blinds. The warm, pink bundle stretches, then snuggles closer, deciding that cuddling in grandma’s arms is better than waking up. I look into her soft, innocent face and thank God for His goodness. New life—what a precious gift!
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Let me tell you about my Mr. Wonderful: incredible, intelligent, indwelled, and interested in me! His ministry as a Christian counselor honed his feminine understanding skills so much that I envied him myself. And it didn’t hurt that he flashed a big, Pepperdent-white grin and raced around in a red sports car.
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Stephanie says, “As the sun began to sneak a peek through the horizontal lines of my mini blinds, I was reminded that another hectic day awaited me. It wasn’t easy being an early bird and a night owl in the same skin, but as a single mom who was struggling to be all and do all, I didn’t have many other options. Each day held its own basket full of burdens for a girl who wore too many hats and didn’t realize the significance of her role as a mother. I was a single mom without Christ, without a clue, and without a mentor.”
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Since before time began no one has ever imagined, no ear heard, no eye seen, a God like you who works for those who wait for him. You meet those who happily do what is
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Proper Documentation (Or why I choose to scrapbook my faith…) By Courtney Walsh Not all that long ago, my family moved from Illinois to Colorado. It was a crazy thing for us to do given
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As a Southern-Baptist-raised only child, wife, mother of three, and pharmacist, I was living my American dream. Until suddenly I wasn’t.
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Waiting and waiting and waiting. Is that all life–and faith–are all about? Waiting and waiting and waiting. Advent is the season of expectation and hope for the coming savior. That’s what the word advent means:
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We all need God all the time.
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It is almost October and I am in Kroger’s, looking for canned pumpkin. Here’s the situation. I’ve just lost my steady employment, so I’m only buying necessities. I won’t be home until 6 and my
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By Tina Ann Forkner I watched her scatter her favorite seashells across the top of the hope chest. She added a silver framed photo of herself and her daddy, a few treasured jewelry boxes, her
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