Keep Climbing!

Once upon a time my knees decided they needed a little….. encouragement.

So I started wearing knee braces. At first they were stiff, then slippery, then downright uncooperative. But eventually I found a pair that works beautifully when I’m walking, working out, or gliding along on the elliptical.

What a relief!

Last year Carl and I traveled to Cabo San Lucas, one of my favorite places on earth. High above the coastline sits a beautiful mountain with a lighthouse and a tiny chapel at the top. I’ve climbed it before with my grandson, and the view from the top is breathtaking.

Naturally, I was determined Carl and I would climb it together.

So I visited my orthopedic doctor who kindly offered steroid shots so my knees would cooperate. The shots were supposed to last three months.

That was a year ago. Thank You, Lord!

And yes -- this smart cookie still wears her knee braces.
But here’s the funny part.
We never climbed the mountain.

Turns out the area is now exclusive to another resort. No visitors allowed. The mountain that had been on my mind for months was suddenly off-limits.

Life can be like that sometimes. We make plans, lace up our hiking boots, and then the path we expected disappears.
Which makes me think about another mountain.

When Jesus took Peter, James, and John up the mountain, they witnessed something extraordinary. His glory shone before them in what we now call the Transfiguration.

It was a breathtaking mountaintop moment.
But they couldn’t stay there.

Mountaintops are wonderful places for revelation, but valleys are where life is lived. After the glory of the mountain, the disciples had to walk back down and continue the everyday work of following Jesus.

And so do we.

Some days feel like standing on a sunlit summit with the wind in our hair and joy in our heart.

Other days feel like the long trail down.
But here’s the good news: Jesus walks both places with us.

So whether we're climbing, resting, or wondering why the trail suddenly closed…let's keep moving onward and forward!

The view with Jesus is always a sweet spot -- whether it's walking, talking, climbing or living on the mountain top OR the valley -- He is always with us!

It’s More Than Green

Every year -- March 17th -- the world turns green. There are parades, shamrocks, and cheerful greetings of “Happy St. Patrick’s Day.”

But behind the festivities stands a godly man whose life was far more powerful than a parade.

Saint Patrick was not born in Ireland. As a teenager, he was kidnapped from his home in Britain and taken to Ireland as a slave.

For six long years he worked as a shepherd, alone on the hillsides.
And it was there -- in the quiet fields -- that something remarkable happened.

Patrick found God.

He began to pray constantly. The young captive who once knew little about faith suddenly discovered a deep dependence on the Lord. In time, Patrick escaped and returned home.

But God wasn’t finished with him yet.

Years later, Patrick did something that still amazes historians. He went back to the very land where he had once been enslaved.

Not with bitterness.
Not with revenge.
He returned with the love of Christ.

Patrick spent the rest of his life telling the people of Ireland about Jesus. Tradition says he used a simple shamrock to explain the Trinity -- Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Thousands came to faith because one man chose obedience over comfort.

That’s the real story of St. Patrick’s Day. Not luck. Not leprechauns. But surrender.

Patrick’s life quietly asks us these question:
What would happen if we lived our faith out loud?
What if we forgave those who hurt us?
What if we loved people who were different from us?
What if we stepped into uncomfortable places to usher in Christ?

2 Corinthians 5:20 says “We are Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making His appeal through us.”

Ambassadors don’t hide their allegiance. They represent their King. May we represent our King – our Savior and Lord!

So, go ahead and wear your green if you’d like. Enjoy the celebration. Smile at the parades. But remember the shepherd boy who became a servant of God.

And perhaps the best way to celebrate St. Patrick is his Breastplate Prayer that we hold to -- Christ before us, behind us, above us and within us.

Christ before me — guiding the path
Christ behind me — covering what I’ve left behind
Christ above me — reigning in authority
Christ within me — living through me every day

#saintpatricksday #breastplate #AmbassadorsForChrist

Shhh! It’s a Secret!

I’ll confess something right up front.
I’m not very good at keeping secrets.

Oh, I try. But give me a delightful surprise -- like a party, a gift, or some exciting news -- and it practically bubbles right out of me. I’ve been known to accidentally spill the beans about a surprise party before the candles were even lit.

And if I’m being really honest, I may have been the kid who quietly opened my Christmas presents early -- then carefully rewrapped them so my mom wouldn’t know.

So when I read the story about the people Jesus healed who couldn’t keep quiet, I completely understand.

After Jesus healed a deaf man, the Bible says:
“He ordered them not to tell anyone. But the more He ordered them not to, the more they proclaimed it.” (Mark 7:36)

I suspect I would have been right there with them.

Sometimes Jesus asked people to stay quiet because crowds could misunderstand His mission. If word spread too quickly, people might chase the miracles instead of the message.

And yet, when the leper Jesus healed told everyone what had happened, the crowds became so large that Jesus “could no longer enter a town openly.” (Mark 1:45)

Even so, Jesus moved quietly and faithfully toward the greater miracle still to come. He knew the real moment for the news to break would arrive soon enough.

In less than two weeks, we’ll enter Holy Week -- the story of the cross, the empty tomb, and the greatest victory the world has ever known.

And here’s the wonderful part -- the secret is out.

Because of the resurrection, we are no longer asked to keep quiet. We are witnesses to the finished work of God’s salvation.

So if you’re like me -- an awkward secret-keeper -- this is one secret we're allowed to share.

In fact, we’re encouraged to shout it from the rooftops.
Or in my case… maybe from social media.

JESUS HEALS!!
JESUS SAVES!!
JESUS LIVES!!

It's simply too good to keep to ourselves!

Oh, dear Lord, bless those around the world who must still whisper Your name in secret. Give them courage, protection, and hope.

As for me…I’m grateful this is one secret I can tell!

#secret #secretkeeper #HeLives #SecretIsOut

Along with the Sunshine -- Comes a Little Rain

I heard it said that "Bad things happen -- how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life.” Amen to that!

Some days feel like heaven is pouring out blessings. The weather is perfect, the phone rings with good news, and every traffic light seems to turn green just as we arrive. It makes me want to shout: "Dear Lord, please give us more days like this!'

Then there are the other days when clouds roll in. Plans fall apart. Storms arrive without an invitation.

And, some days we get both -- sunshine AND showers.

Years ago, country singer Lynn Anderson made the song "Rose Garden" famous with these words: “I beg your pardon -- I never promised you a rose garden. Along with the sunshine, there’s got to be a little rain sometimes.”

And -- iIsn’t that the truth?

When we read the writings of Paul the Apostle, we discover he understood a few rainstorms himself. Shipwrecks, prison cells, hardships -- yet he spoke often about peace. Real peace.

The kind that doesn’t disappear when the sky grows dark.

Paul even said something surprising in Romans 5:3-5:

“We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces hope.”

Paul wasn’t suggesting we throw a parade when trouble knocks on our door. What he meant was this -- the rain in our lives isn’t wasted. God uses it.

A little rain strengthens our roots. It deepens our faith. It grows a hope that sunshine alone could never produce.

And here’s the best part. When the clouds gather, we are never standing in the storm alone.

God promised He would never leave us or forsake us. His love is poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, giving us patience, endurance, and a hope that will never disappoint.

So when life feels stormy, remember this -- the rain doesn’t last forever.

Soon -- the clouds part, the sun peeks through, and before long we may find ourselves humming another old song......

“I’m walking on sunshine… and don’t it feel good!”

How Beautiful are YOUR Feet?

Let’s be honest. Feet aren’t exactly the stars of the show.

Most of us tuck them into shoes, hide them under socks, or hope nobody notices them at the pool. Some feet are knobby, some are crooked, and some look like they’ve walked on gravel roads.

But God sees something different.

The prophet Isaiah wrote, “How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news.” (Isaiah 52:7)

Beautiful feet? Really?
Apparently, heaven isn’t impressed with pedicures -- heaven is impressed with purpose.

Feet become beautiful when they carry good news.
Those feet might belong to the neighbor walking across the street with a warm casserole.

Or the volunteer stepping through the doors of a community center to serve families in need. Or the friend who quietly walks beside someone in a hard season and reminds them that God hasn’t forgotten them.

Those are beautiful feet.
The battle belongs to the Lord. The message belongs to us.

So what do we do?

We walk.
We carry peace.
We deliver hope.
We bring good news.

Paul echoed Isaiah when he wrote, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.” (Romans 10:15).

God doesn’t need perfect feet. He just needs willing ones.

Feet that step toward someone who feels alone.
Feet that walk into a room carrying kindness instead of criticism.
Feet that move toward opportunities to share the hope we’ve found in Christ.

So today, before we slip on our shoes, take a moment and smile.
Those feet of ours? They may not belong on a magazine cover.

But in God’s eyes, when they carry His love into the world --
they’re absolutely beautiful.

Our feet may not win beauty awards -- but when they carry hope, kindness, and the good news of Christ, heaven calls them beautiful.

Today, let's make our steps bring peace wherever you go.

#beautifulfeet #goodfeet #MYPEACEZONE

Facing Forward in a Changing World

March in Texas is in a season of change.

One day the wind roars like a lion. The next day the air turns gentle as a lamb. Trees bud, skies brighten, and the earth seems to whisper, “Something new is coming.”

But lately, the changes we see in the world feel heavier than spring breezes.

News headlines bring reports of conflict, uncertainty, and heartbreaking loss — including brave American soldiers who have paid the ultimate price for our freedom.

Their sacrifice reminds us that freedom is never cheap and courage never goes unnoticed by God.

Still, in the middle of all this change, one truth stands firm.

God does not change!
“For I the Lord do not change.” (Malachi 3:6)
“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” (Hebrews 13:8)

Everything around us may shift -- economies, weather, leaders, and world events -- but the character of God remains steady.

And because He never changes, we can face forward without fear.

The prophet Isaiah shared a powerful promise from God:
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!” (Isaiah 43:18–19)

A new thing. Not a recycled plan. Not a tired solution. A fresh move of God — even in wilderness places.

History reminds us that God often works His greatest miracles when circumstances look impossible. A young shepherd defeated Goliath. Joshua watched the Jordan River part. Gideon’s tiny army changed the course of a battle.

God has always been writing unlikely victories.

So when the news feels heavy and the future uncertain, we remember something important:

We may not know which chapter of history we’re living in, but we do know how the story ends.

God is still on the throne.
His purposes are still unfolding.
And His glory will still fill the earth.

So we pray. We trust. We keep moving forward.

Because the God who never changes is still making a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

And that, dear friends, is reason to never give up.

Complain and Remain -- Praise and Be Raised

After a most beautiful Italian Tea Party last Sunday -- I was thinking about the wonderful women who put their hearts, souls and bodies in making the event so special for our ladies.

There were lovely decorations, meaningful testimonies, laughter, worship, and fellowship that warmed the heart.

No sooner than I expressed my heartfelt appreciation and love for all the women who served so beautifully, a friend had another lingering observation. She didn't think the food was up to par.
That was it. Out of the entire evening — the music, the encouragement, the stories of God’s goodness — the handcrafted plates of food by women working tirelessly to do their best to please each women there.

And I had to chuckle. I thought the food was delicious.

Isn’t it funny how easy it is for the human heart to zoom in on the one imperfect detail while overlooking the ninety-nine blessings surrounding it?

The Bible gently warns us about that tendency --
“Do everything without complaining or arguing.” — Philippians 2:14

Complaining has a way of keeping us stuck. The Israelites discovered that during their wilderness wanderings. A journey that should have taken eleven days stretched into forty years. Why?

Because they complained -- and remained.
But praise has a different effect.

Praise lifts our eyes. Praise changes our perspective. Praise reminds us that even when life isn’t perfect, God is still good.

I learned that lesson early in life. My daddy was often too sick to work, and my mama carried the weight of providing for our little family. Yet I rarely heard her complain. Instead, she sang. She prayed. She praised.

For years, we were avid listeners of Zig Ziglar, who loved to say that attitude determines altitude.

Perspective matters.

Now, I’m not suggesting we ignore real struggles or pretend life is always sunshine and roses. But we do have a choice about what voice we amplify — the whisper of gratitude or the loudspeaker of complaint.

Psalm 34:1 says, “I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth.”

When praise rises, hope rises with it.

So here’s a simple reminder for all of us:
Complain… and remain.
Praise… and be raised.

Let's be joy-filled and praise-filled and maybe put a snack in our pocket -- just in case the meal isn't up to par!

Woven Together in Love

Last Sunday afternoon, over 400 beautiful women gathered together for an Italian Tea Party. Doesn't that sound inviting?

Some gatherings are pleasant.
Others feel like heaven quietly slipped into the room.

That’s how it felt at our recent Italian gathering at our church.
We could see love before we even sat down.

First -- there was the wall covered with 450 hand-made name tags that greeted us — each one carefully crafted by a precious woman who poured her heart into the project.

Nearby stood a painted Italian doorway with the word “Aperto” — Open. And truly, everything about the evening felt open -- open hearts, open conversations, open hands ready to serve.

Tables for eight were beautifully arranged with fine china, lush centerpieces, and little gifts for each guest. Women had lovingly decorated every table as if preparing for honored guests.

And we were. We were/are daughters of the King. And His presence was felt by all.

We sipped tea from delicate cups, enjoyed scones and Italian touches, and then moved into the sanctuary where we celebrated stories of several precious women.

One young mother shared how she nearly collapsed under the weight of her newborn in the NICU and mistakes made along the way. Yet two women stepped beside her — offering wisdom, comfort, and prayer.

Today that same young mom (and her baby) are thriving -- and her cookie and pastry business is flourishing.

Another woman told of mentoring a younger friend — only to discover they both needed each other.

One brave gal confessed she hadn’t stepped inside a church in 22 years, but through the love of women here, she found her way back home.

As we sang worship songs, two women lifted their voices while another quietly wove a tapestry with cloth strips across a board.
Thread by thread.
Story by story.
Heart by heart.

“Above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect unity.” (Colossians 3:14)

We saw God's love in action -- right before our eyes.
God’s girls — woven together in love.

And when He does the weaving, the tapestry becomes something far more beautiful than any one thread could do alone. It is such a blessing to be woven together in love, encouragement, in prayer and in support.

Perhaps God is nudging you to become one who has a story and is willing to share it. Your story may change someone's life, too!

Sacred, Quiet Moments

I've been pondering -- other than holding hands with my sweetheart, I’m not much for PDA -- public displays of affection. I get a little uncomfortable when couples forget they’re in public and turn the grocery aisle into a romance novel.

Some things are just too precious for the spotlight. And In a similar way, some of the sweetest moments in my life with God are the quiet ones -- moments that don’t need an audience.

Just Him and me.

Those are the times when I unload the clutter in my heart. My worries, my weaknesses, my questions. The One who knows me better than I know myself listens patiently as I sort through it all.

Our relationship with God is the most tangible love story we’ll ever experience, even though we can’t see Him with our eyes or touch Him with our hands.

And the beautiful thing?
We don’t have to tweet about it, post about it, or livestream it.
We simply get to savor it.

Jesus once said, “When you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father who is unseen.” (Matthew 6:6)

I love that picture. Close the door. Quiet the noise. No applause needed.

Sometimes my prayer time is sitting on the sofa embracing His words while I know He is embracing mine. Sometimes it’s while folding laundry. But He meets me every time.

He hears the whispered prayers.
He understands the silent tears.
He welcomes the gratitude that bubbles up when I remember just how good He’s been.

Public worship is amazing! Singing in church with hands lifted high is a beautiful thing.

But the hidden moments -- the quiet conversations no one else sees -- those are where intimacy grows.

“Your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.” (Matthew 6:6) Oh, I love that. The rewards?

Peace in the storm.
Faith when hope seems lost.
Love beyond description.
The is what being close to our Savior looks like.

Not performance.
Not perfection.
Just honest fellowship with the One who gave everything for us.

And honestly -- what better place could there be than the quiet presence of God Who loves us completely?

Sometimes the most powerful love stories happen behind a closed door. And, oh what a LOVE STORY it is with our Savior!

Construction Zones of the Heart

 

Carl and I just returned from East Texas after spending a few beautiful days at Epiphany Ranch. But if you’ve driven the highways between Alto and Austin lately, you know something about that trip.

Construction zones. Everywhere.

Every few miles we ran into orange cones, blinking signs, and long lines of cars waiting patiently while road crews waved traffic through one lane at a time. At several points we sat there… engines idling… wondering if we’d ever move again.

Annoying? A little.

Necessary? Absolutely.

Those new roads will make travel smoother and safer. But in the moment, it’s hard to picture the finished product when all you see are cones and delays.

And somewhere between those construction zones, a thought hit me.

My heart looks a lot like that highway.

Piles of insecurities still need hauling away. Detours pop up when my attitude needs adjusting. Sometimes the Lord sets up a few orange cones to keep me from veering into places I shouldn’t go.

Ever feel that way?

“Why am I still struggling with this?”
“Why does this bother me?”
“Why isn’t progress faster?”

The apostle John once wrote to believers who felt the same frustration. He reminded them:

“Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known… but when Christ appears, we shall be like Him.”
(1 John 3:2)

In other words — the work isn’t finished yet.

When we first trust Christ, we are instantly forgiven and welcomed into God’s family. But the process of becoming more like Him takes time. It’s a renovation project of the soul.

Loose translation? Our hearts are under construction.

The good news is we’re not managing the job site alone. God has given us the Holy Spirit as our divine Project Manager.

“Walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.”
(Galatians 5:16)

He directs the work. He moves the cones. He keeps us heading the right way.

So if your life feels like a construction zone right now, don’t lose heart.

Progress is happening.

And one day, when we finally see our Father face to face, the cones will disappear… the road will be smooth… and the project will be complete.

Until then, drive slowly.

God is still working. 🚧💛

When Heaven Whispers

We’re back home in Austin after a few glorious days at Epiphany Ranch in Alto, Texas — 62 acres of lush East Texas beauty. Tall trees. Rolling fields. A sparkling lake. Tiny homes tucked like little jewels across the land. A place where people come for counseling, training, encouragement, and sometimes just to catch their breath.

Carl and I had the joy of helping get things ready for a couples’ retreat. Boots on the ground, hands to the work — the kind of effort that leaves you tired but grateful.

But one of my favorite moments happened on the porch of the lodge during a podcast with my daughter, Staci.

Larry was busy elsewhere, so I slipped into the guest chair. We sat on that porch talking about life, faith, and — of all things — Sago Palms.

They had planned to plant these beautiful palms in large pots around the property. Lovely plants, really. Tropical. Elegant.



But that night Staci couldn’t stop thinking about them. She even woke up in the middle of the night with the thought circling her mind.

Then came that gentle nudge we learn to recognize over time — the quiet voice of the Holy Spirit. Sago Palms are highly toxic to humans and animals.

And suddenly the picture changed. Those spiky palms would grow right at the height of little children playing nearby.

Beautiful plant? Yes.
Good idea? No.
So the plan came to a screeching halt!

The Holy Spirit had whispered wisdom.

Later Staci asked me, “Mom, what do you think about that?”

My answer came quickly: “Goodness gracious — I don’t want my future great-grandbabies running into a plant that could hurt them!”

Sometimes God speaks through thunder. But most of the time He speaks through whispers.

“Seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” (Matthew 7:7)

That’s the way I try to write each day — listening for heaven’s download. A story. A lesson. A moment God might use to encourage someone taking their next step.

If we slow down…
If we listen…
If we surrender…

God will guide us — even about something as simple as a plant on a porch.

And I’ve learned something very important.

When Heaven whispers -- it's always worth listening. 💛

Just a Little Tweak to Welcome Spring

March 20th, is the official first day of Spring, BUT.......

Tonight before we crawl into bed, let's remember the simple tradition that comes every spring — moving our clocks forward one hour.

Yes, we may lose an hour of sleep (I know… I felt that groan too), but we gain longer days, brighter evenings, and a wonderful reminder that God loves fresh beginnings.I

AND, we’re reminded that God is always moving us toward new seasons and fresh light.

Just like that — time jumps ahead. One small turn of the dial and suddenly tomorrow arrives sooner than expected.

“Spring Forward.”

It’s funny how one tiny adjustment can change the rhythm of the whole day.

But maybe that’s not such a bad idea for our hearts too.

God is always inviting us into new seasons. Fresh starts. Brighter mornings. Longer days filled with His light.

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:19)

Spring has a way of whispering hope. Trees bud again. Fields stretch awake. The earth reminds us that God specializes in fresh beginnings.

And right now, as we journey toward Easter, we’re walking closer to the greatest “spring forward” in history.

Jesus moving toward the cross.
Love moving toward sacrifice.
Death moving toward resurrection.

What looked like the darkest Friday the world had ever known turned into the brightest Sunday imaginable.

That’s the way God works. Winter never gets the last word.

So tonight when you move your clock forward, think about the quiet invitation behind it.

Maybe it’s time to spring forward in forgiveness.
Spring forward in faith.
Spring forward in that prayer we’ve been meaning to pray.
Spring forward in our walk with Christ.

A new season is waiting.
New reasons to hope.
New friendships to treasure.
New mercies to discover.

“His mercies are new every morning.” (Lamentations 3:23)

Yes, we may lose an hour of sleep.
But we gain something better — a little more light.

And if you ask me, light has always been God’s favorite way of saying, "I’m not finished yet."

So let's set our clocks tonight.
And let our hearts spring forward too.

I love you all -- my dear faith-filled, joy-filled and peace-filled friend. Happy Spring!

God’s Goodness in Big Sky Country

We’re still here at Epiphany Ranch — 62 acres of big Texas skies and what feels like a little slice of heaven.

And heaven, I’m learning, isn’t always quiet. Sometimes it sounds like hammers tapping, laughter echoing across the porch, and someone asking, “Where do these screws go?”

The newlyweds — Alexia and Winston, fresh from Nashville — along with Carl and me, are here helping Larry and Staci prepare for several couples arriving from near and far this weekend.

Each couple will settle into one of four tiny homes scattered around the ranch. Small spaces, big comfort. Places designed for respite, encouragement, and power-packed teaching.

Meanwhile, inside the newly finished Peace Cabin, there’s a whole lot of joyful chaos.

Staci, Alexia, and I have been working like a cheerful decorating brigade. Curtains up. Cabinets filled. Furniture assembled. Alexia tackled the new sofa and nightstands like a seasoned professional while we transformed the cabin into what feels like a cozy French cottage.

Who knew sanctification sometimes includes hammers, screws, curtain rods, and a furniture assembly?

The guys were finishing the well house while Carl — my ever-patient chauffeur and unofficial ranch overseer — keeps an eye on it all. New roads. Fresh concrete drives. Newly planted trees stretching toward the Texas sky.

It feels like watching faith take root.

“The righteous will flourish like a palm tree -- planted in the house of the Lord.” (Psalm 92:12–13)

That’s what Epiphany Ranch feels like — planting and flourishing.

What was once simply trees, land, a lake, and big Texas skies is now a haven called Joy, Love, Peace, and Miracle Mountain — the names of the cozy homes built here. Carl and I are staying in Miracle Mountain, the very first one built, and the peace here truly lives up to its name.

Sometimes God’s goodness looks like miracles.

Sometimes it looks like family gathered around a table, hands working side by side, hearts grateful for the chance to serve.

“We love because He first loved us.” (1 John 4:19)

And here under these big, wide Texas skies, that’s exactly what we’re doing — loving, serving, building, and celebrating God's goodness together.

Oh, the joy of loving -- shoulder to shoulder -- while celebrating God's creation that comes with His peace, joy and love for Him and each other!

#epiphanyranch #cabins #family #shouldertoshoulder

Joy on the Ranch, Tears in the Valley

 

What better treat for having finished up the elections with true grit and determination -- than to be in Alto, Texas. Aw -- 62 beautiful acres called Epiphany Ranch. The name alone feels like a whisper from Heaven. A place for respite. Healing. Encouragement.

My Staci and Larry built more than homes, a lodge, fences and barns here. They built space for souls to breathe.

We're gathering with them — and with the newly-weds -- my granddaughter Alexia and her husband Winston. Nearly five months of marriage already. Newlywed glow still shining. Love still fresh and bright.

And yet -- woven into our joy is a quiet ache.

Theirs (and mine) -- the faithful Australian Shepherd, Buddy, is nearing his finish line. Oh, what a companion he has been.

I remember those Frisco days when he stayed with me — loyal eyes, steady presence, tail wagging like he owned the place. Our walks -- my guard and protector. Buddy has had a way of loving without complication. And saying goodbye never feels easy.

At the same time, the world feels loud. Nations at war. Headlines heavy. Tension rising.

How do we celebrate on a ranch while the world wrestles in conflict?
Maybe the answer is this -- life has always held both.

Romans 12:15 says: “Rejoice with those who rejoice -- mourn with those who mourn.”

Sometimes we do both in the same week. Sometimes in the same breath.

Jesus stood at a wedding feast and turned water into wine. And He stood at a grave and wept.

Joy and sorrow are not enemies. They are companions on this side of eternity.

While the world shakes, we hold tighter to what is steady.
“The LORD sits enthroned over the flood.” (Psalm 29:10)

He reigns over ranch land and battle lines. Over wedding rings and worn-out paws. Over laughter on the porch and tears in the night.

So this week, I will hug my family a little longer. I will celebrate young love. I will scratch behind familiar ears while I still can. And I will pray — for peace in our homes and peace in our world.

Because even when life feels mixed — joy and sorrow braided together — God remains constant.

And in Him, we find both comfort and hope.

“Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy!” Psalm 126:5

Red, White, and Blue — and Rooted in Truth

Carl and I just wrapped up two weeks of Early Voting and yesterday's Election Day itself. Long days. Early mornings. Lots of smiles. And a whole lot of red, white, and blue.

There’s something sacred about watching people vote.

Young parents with babies on their hips. Seniors walking slowly -- some with canes -- others with wheel chairs -- and all were relentless and determined to vote.

Workers, including us, slipping in before our shift. Early voters who beat the rush — and late early voters who met the rush with very long lines. But here’s what amazed me:

No complaining. Just determination.

We weren’t discussing party lines or debating platforms. We were united in something simple — gratitude. Gratitude that we get to vote on a sunshine-filled Texas day.

I’ve heard it before: “What difference does my one little vote make?”

It’s true. It takes time. Research. Waiting in line. And statistically? One vote feels small.
But so does one prayer.
And we still pray.

Voting isn’t about control — it’s about stewardship. My faith shapes my values. And my values shape my vote. I don’t shout my political opinions from rooftops. I try to weigh them quietly, prayerfully.

When I step up to vote, I’m listening for that Voice.
And when it’s all counted? God is not pacing Heaven.

“The LORD can control a king’s mind as He controls a river.” (Proverbs 21:1)

His throne is still occupied. His purposes still unfold. His sovereignty has never depended on an election result.

If we don’t vote, we really shouldn’t complain. But if we do vote — we can rest. Because as followers of Jesus, our hope is not in red or blue.

It’s in the One who reigns above it all.
“Do not fear, for I am with you… I will strengthen you and uphold you.” (Isaiah 41:10)

We serve our country. We participate. We cast our vote.
We pray. We trust.

That’s the kind of red-white-and-blue faith I believe in. How about you?

The 40 Days of Lent

Not all Christians observe Lent. Some never grew up with it. Some think it’s only for certain denominations. Some just aren’t sure what it means.

So let’s “dumb it down” in the best way.
Lent is simply forty days of intentional closeness with Jesus -- His journey to the cross. Today marks the 13th day of Lent this year.

That’s it.
It’s not about earning points with God.
It’s not about spiritual dieting.
It’s not about impressing anyone.

It’s about slowing down long enough to walk where Jesus walked.

Before Easter joy came the desert. Before resurrection came -- was Christ's surrender. Jesus spent forty days preparing His heart, resisting temptation, aligning fully with His Father’s will.

Lent invites us to do the same.
Think of it like training for our souls.

We might give something up — not because chocolate is evil — but because we want to create space. Space to pray. Space to listen. Space to notice God more.

We might add something in — more Scripture, more generosity, more forgiveness, more love for our Savior.

James 4:8 says, “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.”

That’s Lent in one sentence.

It’s a season to examine our hearts and gently ask:
Am I walking like Jesus?
Am I talking like Jesus?
Am I loving like Jesus?

It’s less about ritual and more about relationship.
It’s a journey from self to surrender -- from cross to crown.

And anyone — any Christian — can take that walk.
One small step at a time.

Because we didn’t just celebrate the cross. We followed Him there. And the beautiful part? When Easter morning arrives, resurrection feels richer. Joy feels deeper. Grace feels personal.

#lent #WalkWithJesus #EmbraceTheJourney

Soul and Body Food

I’ve noticed something about myself. I don’t forget to eat.

If there’s banana bread in the kitchen, I know it. Well that's because I made banana bread Saturday night. If there’s fresh coffee brewing, I can smell it from two rooms away. My body gets fed regularly — sometimes enthusiastically.

But my soul? That takes intention.

God doesn’t want us walking around with spiritual noodle arms — a faith that collapses at the first hint of trouble. He wants roots that go deep and muscles that hold steady.

“Let your roots grow down into Him… Then your faith will grow strong…” (Colossians 2:7)

Strong faith doesn’t happen by accident. It happens by feeding.

God’s Word is soul food. Daily bread. Not dessert. Not a snack we nibble on once a week. Real nourishment.

“Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God.” (Romans 10:17)

If my faith feels weak, it’s rarely because God moved. It’s usually because I’ve skipped a few meals.

But here’s the other part — the part we don’t always like.
Faith is also built in the gym.

Circumstances are resistance training. Delays. Disappointments. Unexpected detours. Those are spiritual dumbbells.

We don’t grow muscle without weight. And we don’t grow faith without pressure.

It would be nice if we could simply pray, “Lord, increase my faith,” and wake up spiritually ripped. But God, in His wisdom, allows just enough resistance to strengthen us without breaking us.

And somehow, when Word and weight work together — nourishment and resistance — we grow.
Stronger.
Steadier.
More grateful.

So today, Lord, bring on the soul food -- Your Word.
And if a little spiritual weight training comes with it… help us lift.
Because we don’t want wimpy faith.
We want the kind that stands firm when life shakes.

Word and workout. Bread and dumbbell. It preaches without saying a word. Let's feed our soul -- strengthen our faith......AND, grow!

Draw Me Nearer

I’ll admit it. I am spent.
Two weeks of non-stop Early Voting will do that to a girl. Early alarms. Rushing to the polls. Smiling. Organizing. Serving. Doing it all again the next day. And the next.

It almost sounds pitiful to say out loud — because I chose to serve. I’m grateful I can serve. But somewhere between the ballots and the busy, I felt it.

The quiet slipping. Not a dramatic falling away. Just a subtle drifting. Less lingering in His Word. Fewer slow prayers. More checking the clock than checking my heart.

And that’s what makes me weary.
It isn’t the work. It’s the distance.

Because I’ve learned something over the years, exhaustion isn’t always from doing too much. Sometimes it’s from drawing too little.

Too little time at Jesus' feet.
Too little stillness.
Too little nearness.

And so this old hymn started whispering to me:
“Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord…”
Not louder service. Not stronger effort. Nearer.

That’s what my heart needs.
To sit again in His presence.
To let His peace settle the dust.
To open the door of my heart wide instead of squeezing Him into the leftovers of my schedule.

“Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” (James 4:8)
Transformation doesn’t begin with effort. It begins with nearness.

Drawing nearer doesn’t require perfect prayers. It requires an open heart. A quiet yes. A willingness to sit still long enough to hear His voice.

Nearness reshapes us. And the sweetest truth? He wants this closeness even more than we do.

So today, let's open the door of our hearts just a little wider -- let Him in -- let Him heal -- let Him transform.

What a promise! God doesn’t scold the weary servant. He invites her closer.

And maybe that’s you today too. Not running from God — just running fast. Tired. Full. A little empty.

The good news? The door only needs to crack open.
And He will do the rest.

Draw me nearer, blessed Lord…because there is no safer place — no sweeter place — than close to YOU!

Don’t Let the Birds Nest There

You’ve probably heard it before:
"You can’t stop birds from flying over your head -- but you can keep them from building a nest in your hair."

Now, I don’t know about you, but some mornings my thoughts sound like a full-blown bird convention when......
Worry swoops in.
Fear circles.
Old regrets flap loudly.
That one embarrassing thing we said in 1998 suddenly returns for another flyover.
Thoughts come uninvited.

Jesus knew this would happen. That’s why Scripture gently reminds us: “Take every thought captive to make it obedient to Christ.”
— 2 Corinthians 10:5

Notice it doesn’t say prevent every thought. It says capture them.
Because thoughts are like birds — they pass through. But trouble begins when we hand them nesting material.

We replay offenses.
We rehearse fears.
We polish worries.
And before long, anxiety has moved in permanently and started decorating.

Philippians 4:8 gives us God’s housekeeping plan for the mind:
“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right -- think about such things.”

In other words — clean house.
If a thought steals peace, toss it out.
If it whispers fear, evict it.
If it contradicts God’s promises, don’t offer it a guest room.

Carl and I sometimes laugh about how quickly small worries try to unpack luggage in our minds. But peace comes when we look up instead of inward.

Isaiah 26:3 promises:
“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in You.”

Peace isn’t the absence of birds.
It’s choosing not to let them stay.

So if today or tomorrow -- worry circles overhead like those birds trying to land -- let's just smile and say:

“Nice try — but no nesting allowed.”
Let's keep cleaning up.
Let's keep looking up.

And let's ensure our thoughts rest where they belong — safely in the hands of the One who guards our heart -- our soul.....AND our hair!

Walk a Mile in These Shoes

Before we judge someone -- let's look again.
These aren’t designer sandals.
They’re cut-up plastic bottles tied together with twine.
They’re not a fashion statement — they are necessity.

And suddenly Luke 6:37 feels less like a suggestion and more like a command: “Judge not -- condemn not -- forgive".

It’s easy to form opinions from a distance. It’s harder to imagine the miles those feet have walked. Hot dirt. Sharp stones. Long roads we have never had to travel.

We live in abundance most of the time. Closets full. Pantries stocked. Options everywhere. But somewhere in this great big world, someone is fashioning shoes from trash just to protect their soles.

And God sees them.
He sees the callouses.
He sees the hunger.
He sees the resilience.
He sees the dignity.

Appearances can deceive us -- but hearts tell the real story.

As God’s ambassadors, we are not called to evaluate people. We are called to love them. To pray for them. To stand in the gap for those who have less than we do and carry more than we can imagine.

Lord, please forgive us for judging those who beg on street corners. Please forgive us for counting them out.

What if instead of judging, we interceded?
What if instead of assuming, we asked God to bless?
What if instead of turning away, we allowed our hearts to break a little?

“Whatever you did for one of the least of these -- you did for Me.” (Matthew 25:40)

Those words change everything.
Because that image? That’s not “them.”
That’s someone Jesus loves. Lord, soften our hearts.
Make us generous. Make us compassionate.
Make us people who look deeper and love wider.

Before we judge someone -- may we first learn to kneel and pray.
And maybe — just maybe — we walk a mile in their shoes.

God’s Great Big Beautiful Family

Have you ever noticed how church can feel like a family reunion — minus Aunt Mildred’s potato salad and Uncle Bob’s political debates?

You walk in thinking, We’re just checking out this random church. Casual. Observing. Sitting near the back in case we need a quick escape.

And then something happens.
Someone remembers your name.

A Bible study turns into conversation.
A Wednesday night meal turns into laughter.
A class turns into connection.
And before we know it, when we miss a Sunday, our phone buzzes:
“Are you okay? We missed you.”

That’s when we realize — this isn’t random. This is family.

God never meant for us to white-knuckle life alone. From the very beginning, His plan was adoption.

“His unchanging plan has always been to adopt us into His own family by sending Jesus Christ…” (Ephesians 1:5)

He wanted us.
And He still does.

Some people think church is a building. Or a weekly event. Or a box to check. But church is a living, breathing body. It’s hands that serve, knees that kneel, voices that pray.

“The human body has many parts, but the many parts make up one whole body. So it is with the body of Christ.” (1 Corinthians 12:12)

One body. Many parts.

You may feel like the pinky toe — small but essential. Or maybe you’re the heart, pumping encouragement into weary souls. Either way, you matter. There are no spare parts in God’s family.

When Carl and I found our church home years ago, we didn’t just find a seat. We found brothers and sisters who call us by name. Friends who pray seriously. Leaders who speak rock-solid truth when life gets shaky.

And here’s the beautiful exchange:
First, we give ourselves to the Lord.
Then, by His will, we give ourselves to one another. (2 Corinthians 8:5)

That’s when something powerful happens.
Children find friends.
Marriages find support.
The sick find prayer warriors.
The weary find hope.

Maybe it’s time to stop visiting -- and start belonging.

There’s a seat at the table.
And it has your name on it. 💛

#church #churchfamily #SeatAtTheTable