We are immobilized by the suffering and pain in this world and are tempted to give up, not stand and take the next step in front of us.

I’m sitting in this shower and don’t want to get up, because I find relief with the water drowning out the world around me.

All of this laboring, praying, counseling, encouraging, sharing our lives and the gospel…will it be in vain?

The Lord didn’t have to answer my prayer. Either way, He still wanted me to come to Him, draw close to Him, and declare that my trust and dependency is in Him alone. He chose in this instance to reveal how big His heart is…

The Lord has given me His vision not to see clearly but to see blurry: the blurriness of our lives harmoniously interwoven in everything…

This was the first time in six years that I asked myself if I could honestly continue to homeschool.

Therefore, for several weeks I’ve been searching my heart, motives, and concerns, the pros and cons of other options, and asking the Lord to show me His desire for us.

The answer was not what I expected…

A poem about the “God Who Sees Me.”

How do we live in the middle of what was at Creation and what is to come when Jesus reverses all dying? How do we live in the reality that it was never supposed to be this way, and even the ground below our feet groans to be made whole again?

I had the opportunity to talk on a podcast episode about what really goes on behind the camera. What you don’t see or hear about when you watch a movie — the challenges, the isolation, the times it is too much and on the brink of giving it all up.

How do you perceive grief? Do you run from it? Do you need to change your perspective on grief as a friend and not the enemy? There are only two directions when pain hits: toward God or away from Him.