The Prince and the Servant

prince and the servant

Once upon a time a girl was born with an extraordinary gift. As a tiny infant the gift was revealed, though it was not until she was four or five that her parents realized what a treasure it was. She was born with a beautiful voice that always sang on key, no matter what. In a land that valued song, her gift was precious indeed.

Selah grew up knowing her gift was sought after and loved by the people around her. “You will marry a prince!” they would say, and then beg her to sing for them.

She was pleasant-hearted as well as gifted, so she would sing for their harvest dances and sing at their church services and sing on the market streets when asked.

Soon word traveled around the land of the lovely girl who could sing as beautifully as a nightingale. A prince from the neighboring kingdom heard the news and decided at once to go and visit. “This girl may be just what I am looking for,” he told his parents. He took his servant, packed his things, and headed toward the land-of-the-singing-girl. Continue reading

Lemon Bars and Love

It was a lemon bar. Nothing of great importance. The only thing that mattered was that it was taken without permission. We have a pretty common saying in our house, “If it’s not yours, don’t touch it.” She forgot.

lemon bars and love
image source

It’s crazy how the things I think are a big deal, often fly right over my child’s head. Then along comes this little thing, and for some reason it catches her right and she ends up heartbroken over her decisions. “I just wasn’t thinking, Mommy,” she cried into my shirt. “I just wanted it so I ate it and now Daddy won’t have one.”

I’m patting her head, trying to catch up with a simple reprimand turning into a huge ordeal, when she says the words.

“I just feel so dirty.”

I pause. My first reaction is to correct her. “That’s silly,” I want to say. “You’re not dirty, you’re beautiful and we love you more than any old lemon bar.” But something stops me. Maybe this is a whole lot deeper than the lemon bar. Maybe God is doing something. Continue reading

the best Christian books for infertile women

the best Christian books for infertile women #alist

**disclosure: affiliate links present. For more information, read my disclosure policy.

As with any list, every book here may not be helpful to you. Many were just what I needed, some I included because while they did little for me, others have shared how greatly they were impacted by them. You will quickly find that most are faith-based and there is a reason for that. As a Christian, I believe there is a unique way to look at trials in life– and I naturally turn to others who are also looking to God for answers.

This is not a list of books that offer ways to get pregnant, but rather, ways to deal with infertility from in the middle. Continue reading

Does God love some more than others?

It’s there in Acts. The fledgling church is empowered through the Holy Spirit, the men who once disappeared in fear during the crucifixion now step boldly into the streets. Some are killed, but the preaching goes on. The Word of Life is spreading like wildfire through the city.

James Zebedee (the brother of John) is one of them, a disciple of Jesus who once hid in fear, but he’s now proclaiming the Messiah has come and will return. In anger, Herod has him arrested and put to death with the sword. Another martyr’s blood is spilled.

Near the same time, Peter is seized and placed in prison. He is chained, and placed between two guards in a locked jail cell. Herod is planning another death, desiring to kill off Christians to please the Jews.

But this time God moves. An angel of the Lord walks right into the jail cell, the chains fall off, Peter is told to stand up and follow. Doors open in front of them. Guards are blinded to them.

When Peter arrives at the home of Mary, mother of John-Mark, instead of letting him in, the servant girl, Rhoda, leaves him standing there and runs to exclaim to the gathered Believers, “Peter is at the door!”

They thought she was crazy. But time proves her words. It is Peter, rescued from the edge of death.

And here’s the question this passage begs, Did God love Peter more than James?  Continue reading

If I Can’t Raise Children

She was infertile, like me. Yet, somehow, someway, God opened her womb and she bore children. But then they said no more. Impossible.

The last baby, he wasn’t suppose to be. The doctors said no, so we feared something was wrong, but it wasn’t cancer or questions, it was another son.

When we got the call, I sat down and cried. Great heaving sobs. Joy unspeakable. I scrawled into my journal, “It’s almost like something deep inside me sighed and said, Oh, yes, God IS good. I knew it, but I doubted. I’ve tried so hard not to, but I did.”

Something settled hard into me that day. I looked around with clearer sight. I saw things for what they were, instead of what the enemy was whispering. Continue reading

Death Sentence

There are days when we are forced to carry burdens that are larger than our strength.

I know.

I still remember the day when we learned that the child we planned on adopting was no longer available to us.

I was so broken, so lost, so confused. We had loved her, and shared smiles with her when she was told we would be her family. I would do anything to keep additional pain from her, but I couldn’t do a blooming thing to stop it. And I nearly crumbled under the weight of the sorrow.

It was a death sentence I couldn’t fight. Continue reading

Weakness, Impossibility, and Miracles

The skies were painted pink that night. Swirls and arches of color that filled the shadows with rainbows.

We sat in the dining room and ate grilled ham with pineapple, scooped up spoonfuls of broccoli salad, and laughed until our sides ached. When we left to drive home, long after the last shades of pink had disappeared from the sky, they had pressed the book into our hands.

She smiled, “What Ann Voskamp’s writing has done for me, Angus’ has done for my husband.”

The book was titled, A Farmer’s Yearwhich seemed a perfect name. This devotional was for more than just my husband though. Each morning as I made breakfast, he would read from the living room and the stories of faith and reminders of God’s power and majesty began sinking into me. Continue reading

Frayed Edges

We’re driving to church yesterday and my husband says, “I feel like I’m frayed at the edges, and any second I could unravel.”

I’m wiping away tears as I nod. Yes, this is life. You walk and follow and sometimes God leads down some pretty dark and wandering roads.

But then we’re at church, so late it’s horrible, and I’m trying to catch up with all this speaker is sharing. I understand that he was in a plane wreck, it was a miracle he survived, he has a passion for sharing the gospel. Then he says words that quiet me still. Continue reading