The Father's Arms are Open Wide

I saw this photo of a father with arms stretched wide. It stopped me cold. A young boy sprinting toward his dad, joy exploding on his face. His father had just been released after six months held captive in Syria. And now -- freedom, reunion, relief. If we want a picture of the gospel wrapped in human emotion, there it is.

This time of year especially, we’re reminded of the joy of being a child -- running free, laughing hard, shouting “DADDY!” when we’re about to be caught in a game of tag. Kids know exactly where to run when they need protection. No hesitation. No overthinking. Just instinct.

Jesus said, “Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:4). He wasn’t asking us to act childish -- but childlike. To regain that wonder, that innocence, that unquestioning trust in a Father who watches over us.

Now, my two youngest grandsons are grown men, but I still remember when I cared for them when their mom and dad were out of town. They insisted that I prayed with them for angels to camp around their beds before they fall asleep. If I ever forgot, they reminded me like I was delinquent in my grandmotherly duties. Once the angels were assigned, they slept like two little logs.

Somewhere along the way to adulthood, our worries multiply and the wonder shrinks. We trade carefree confidence for deadlines, responsibilities, and the “Did I pay that credit card bill?" kind of anxieties. The security we once knew becomes something we try to manufacture ourselves.

But here’s the truth we forget -- maturity in Christ doesn’t mean being independent. It means being dependent -- more than ever. On His grace. His goodness. His guidance. His mercy.

God is our Abba -- our DADDY. From our first breath to our last, His eyes are on us, His love is for us, and His plans -- the Jeremiah 29:11 ones -- are filled with hope and a future.

So as this wonderful time of the year races onward and we approach Christmas Day, may we approach it with wide-eyed wonder again -- and realizing that this is all about the Baby Boy in a manger Who became our Savior and Lord.

It is about our own childlike excitement instead of the season chasing us down that we do what children do best: Cry out, “DADDY!” And run straight into His waiting arms.

May we all run there today!

#openarms #AbbaFather #wideeyedwonder #fathersarms

When Joy Sneaks In

Here we are -- the third Sunday of Advent. The Sunday of Joy. Not the loud, confetti-throwing kind (though I’m not opposed!)—but the kind that sneaks in quietly, right when we least expect it. The kind that settles into the cracks of our days like sunlight slipping through the blinds.

Joy has a funny way of showing up uninvited. It doesn’t wait for life to be perfect or peaceful. It doesn’t require all gifts to be wrapped, all plans to go smoothly, or all family members to behave at the same time. (A Christmas miracle all its own.)

Joy just slips into the room when you’re not even looking for it -- maybe in the form of a child climbing into your lap with a grin and a, “Scoot over, I want to read you my Christmas book!”

Or maybe it arrives through a family member whose heart is running a little low on cheer, and suddenly you realize you get to be Jesus-with-skin-on for them. You get to remind them -- by presence, by kindness, by a simple hug -- that they are deeply loved.

And somehow, even if you don’t feel especially joyful yourself, God lets your love ignite a little joy in them -- and a little more in you.

I imagine it was that way at the first Christmas. Life wasn’t calm. The world wasn’t tidy. Mary and Joseph were exhausted travelers. A manger was hardly Pinterest material. Yet heaven chose that moment to deliver joy in flesh and bone.

Maybe that’s what Advent reminds us: joy is God’s specialty. Not manufactured joy. Not plastic, ornament-aisle joy. But real joy -- the kind strong enough to carry a weary heart.

On this third week of Advent, we light the candle of Joy not because everything is perfect, but because God is faithful. We light it because the Savior has come, is coming, and will always come into the places where we need Him most.

If joy feels “not quite here yet,” remember -- God loves to surprise us. Sometimes joy isn’t a shout -- sometimes it’s a whisper. Sometimes it’s not fireworks; sometimes it’s a steady glow that warms us from the inside out.

May this week of Advent bring you unexpected laughter, gentle reminders of God’s nearness, and joy that settles deep -- joy that doesn’t depend on circumstances but on Christ Himself.

Because wherever Jesus is, Joy is already on the way.

Eight Months Pregnant and Riding a Donkey

Okay -- so I am pondering the thoughts of Mary again. Consider this -- she is eight months pregnant. Eight. Months. Pregnant. And Joseph walks in with news that would make any expectant mother drop her water jar.

“Pack your bags, Mary. We’re heading to Bethlehem for the census.”
Bethlehem. Eighty dusty miles. On a donkey.

Now I don’t know about you, but if I had been Mary, I might have quoted Scripture right back at him: “Wait for the Lord!” (Psalm 27:14). As in -- wait until after the baby arrives!

But somehow Joseph must have smiled with steady faith and said, “Mary, be strong and take heart. God has this. God has us.”

How could God possibly be in a tax trip at eight months pregnant? Well, that would be because God had promised something bigger than comfort.

The Messiah had to be born in Bethlehem. Prophecy needed fulfillment. Heaven needed positioning -- and God used a Roman census to move this Holy Family right where they needed to be.

The Bible doesn’t tell us if Mary connected every dot. But it does show us her heart. She wasn’t loud with panic. She was quiet with trust. The same girl who once sang, “The Mighty One has done great things for me,” (Luke 1:49) now climbs onto a donkey and rides straight into prophecy.

And here we are—counting down to Christmas with our own detours:
Illness? Canceled flights? Unexpected bills? Plans that unravel?

Bethlehem reminds us that God often uses our interruptions as invitations. What feels like inconvenience may actually be divine repositioning.

“Wait for the Lord,” Psalm 27:14 says. That word wait also means hope. Not dread. Hope. Expectation with steady courage.

Mary is my role model. I want to have her calm when plans change. Her trust when the road is long. Her hope when the night is crowded with questions.

If God can guide Mary through prophecy on a donkey, He can guide us through December. Let's trust the detours -- they just might be HOLY ones! 🤍

#MarysYes #prophecy #Joseph #countingdowntochristmas

The Marvel of a Man Willing to Trust

 

Yesterday, in my blog, I focused on the news from the angel, Gabriel to Mary -- and the awesome yet trepidatious knowledge of carrying Baby Jesus in her womb -- "and the Holy Spirit came upon her." (Luke 1:35)

In the meantime -- Joseph had plans. Good plans. Solid plans. He was established, respected, engaged to the woman he loved -- but then -- everything tilted sideways.

Mary was pregnant. WHAT???

Her explanation -- "the power of the Most High” -- had to sound impossible. Fear came fast and loud. Fear of losing Mary. Fear of public shame. Fear of a future suddenly unrecognizable. Joseph carried heavy questions into the night, right into his sleep.

And that’s where God met him. In a dream -- quiet, personal, unmistakable -- God unfolded a plan far bigger than Joseph’s fears. The child in Mary’s womb would be named Jesus. Emmanuel. God with us. The Savior.

And then the words every trembling heart longs to hear:
“Do not be afraid.”

Honestly, if an angel named Gabriel showed up in our dreams, wouldn’t our knees knock a little too? Yet that’s just it -- when God brings something to us, even something overwhelming, He also brings the strength to walk through it.

Joseph woke up changed. No debate. No delay. Just obedience.

He took Mary as his wife. He chose love over logic, trust over fear, surrender over reputation. In one courageous yes, Joseph stepped straight into God’s master plan -- the one that would change history and rescue the world.

What a love story for Joseph and Mary -- and for you and me.

Because the same God who entrusted a carpenter with His Son still invites ordinary people into extraordinary purposes. The same God who met Joseph in his fear still meets us in ours. And the same promise still stands firm today: "With God, all things are possible."

#WithGodAllThingsArePossible #JosephAndMary #GodsMasterPlan

Hearing God When We’re Just Ordinary

Mary was just a teenage girl in a quiet town -- no spotlight, no social media following, no impressive resume. Just ordinary days, family routines, and maybe a few daydreams about her future. Then one day -- right in the middle of regular life -- an angel shows up.

Not just any angel -- Gabriel -- one of the most significant, powerful, and revered angels, known as God's chief messenger and the herald of crucial divine messages,

I don’t know about you, but if an angel appeared while I was folding laundry or making a sandwich, I’d probably bolt down the hallway, splash cold water on my face, and ask, "Am I dreaming?"

But Mary stayed. And then came the words that would tilt her world on its axis: "You will carry the Savior of the world."

Not, that's not just news -- that’s history-shaking, breath-stealing, fear-inducing holy shock. Confusion, awe, terror, wonder -- all wrapped into one teenage heartbeat.

Now let me be honest -- I’m the kind of girl who likes details. A timeline. A checklist. A backup plan. But Mary didn’t get a flowchart from heaven. What she got was a calling -- and a choice.

The choice she made was "YES"! “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as You have said.” (Luke 1:38)

Right there, Mary teaches us that God often speaks to ordinary people in ordinary moments and invites them into extraordinary purpose. Hearing God doesn’t always come with comfort or clarity. Sometimes it comes with trembling hands and a racing heart.

Faith isn’t having all the answers -- it’s trusting the One who does.

God may be nudging us toward a hard conversation -- a new responsibility -- a step that feels bigger than our confidence. And like Mary, our yes may feel small -- but heaven knows it’s mighty.

So where might God be inviting you and me to trust Him more than our understanding?

Lord, we believe—help our unbelief. Draw us close. Teach us to hear Your voice -- and give us the courage to say yes.

The Low-Shelf and Low-Tree Things

I still remember my own two little ones when they were toddlers -- and later my Nana treasures — those bright-eyed grandchildren with their curious fingers and determined little steps.

I learned early on that anything low-shelf was fair game. So before they’d arrive, up went the glass bells, the porcelain keepsakes, and yes -- the Nativity figures. Well… almost all of them.

One Christmas, my grandson quietly “borrowed” Baby Jesus from the manger. Moments later, his little sister cried out, “Where is Baby Jesus?!” And there he was -- tucked lovingly under her big brother’s arm like the most precious treasure in the house.

Those are the kinds of moments that taught me the value of the low-shelf things.

In this holy season of Advent, I’m reminded again that God has always worked through the low and the small. A mustard seed of faith. A boy’s tiny lunch. A widow’s two coins. A simple sparrow. And of course -- a newborn baby laid in a lowly manger.

The world tells us the meaningful life is found in the high-shelf places -- spotlights, stages, applause, and recognition. But Jesus chose the low shelf. And He still does.

Maybe the low-shelf things in our lives look like:
silly text threads with a dear friend,
fresh bread on the table,
whispered prayers,
quiet tears when a song stirs the soul,
or a child’s small hand slipping into ours.

These are the things that shape a life of meaning.
Advent whispers, “Slow down.”
Look low.
Pay attention.
The miracle is already close to the ground.

And perhaps, like those children reaching for Baby Jesus, we don’t need to look up so high to find what matters most.
Because when God came to us, He came low.

And if God is paying attention to the small things -- I want to pay attention too.

Dear Lord, thank You for the low-shelf gifts of life. Slow our hearts this Advent so we don’t miss the small wonders that carry Your great presence. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

#advent #smallthingsinlife #children #slowdown

Follow the Star

Saturday night, we literally followed THE STAR!
Not a twinkle on top of a tree -- not a glittering yard decoration -- but THE Star — Jesus. The One who came from heaven to earth and now leads us all the way home again.

We attended the Follow the Star outdoor production at Good Shepherd Church -- a sacred walk-through of ten living scenes from the life of Christ. Not just His birth in a manger, but the whole breathtaking story -- the angel’s announcement to Mary, the Nativity, the Triumphal Entry, the Last Supper, betrayal and trial, the Cross, the Resurrection, and finally -- the Ascension. And it all ended with a modern family gathered around a living room, reading the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke.

Carl and I walked through it with our dear friend Lee, and our nieces and their friends -- along with four precious little ones riding in a wagon, pulled by their daddy. Those little ones were absolutely mesmerized. And when “Jesus” appeared in one of the scenes, they weren’t frightened or confused -- one bright little voice simply called out, “Hi Jesus!”

Oh, my heart. These sweet children already know Jesus -- their mom and dad talk about Him all the time -- the ONE who loves them so much. The ONE -- who said, "Let the little children come to me!" (Matthew 19:14)

They didn’t see a character.
They saw Someone they knew.

Each scene held them. Every moment mattered. And at the final scene, as the family actors read the Christmas story, I quietly slipped in beside that precious group of children. We stood shoulder to shoulder -- generations wrapped into one holy moment -- listening again to the story that changed the world.

And that’s Christmas, isn’t it?

Not just sweet baby Jesus in a manger -- but Savior on a cross -- Redeemer from the grave -- King returning to glory. The Nativity isn’t the whole story -- it’s the beginning of the greatest rescue ever written.

We follow the Star not just to Bethlehem -- but to Calvary -- to the empty tomb -- to the promise of eternal life.

Jesus is not “here today, gone tomorrow.”
He is here always -- from cradle to crown.

The Star still shines. The Savior still saves. The story is still true.

The Joy of Hope and a Faith-Filled Child

 

Yesterday marked the second Sunday of Advent — the Sunday of Hope and Faith. Two candles now glow on the Advent wreath, and two themes shine brightly in my heart -- because today, December 8th, is the birthday of my hope-filled, faith-brimming baby girl, Staci Michelle.

Fifty-six years ago, God handed me one of His greatest blessings, all wrapped in pink, with a determined spirit and eyes that already sparkled with purpose. And oh my — that little bundle grew into a woman who still wakes up like spiritual dynamite. I imagine the enemy groans, “She’s awake…” while her Heavenly Father nudges the angels and says, “Watch what she does today!”

She dreams big, believes boldly, prays fiercely, loves deeply, and dances to the rhythm of a heavenly drum. And her name? Staci Michelle: “resurrection life; like God.” Heaven whispered that name to us, and she has spent her whole life living it out: bringing resurrection life into every room, every conversation, every person she touches.

As I’ve been reading Isaiah’s promise that “a little child will lead them,” and Jesus’ reminder in Luke 10 about becoming childlike, I can’t help but see my girl. Advent is the season of expectation -- wide-eyed, joyful, childlike expectation. The kind children feel on Christmas Eve when they can hardly stay under the covers because morning is just too good to wait for.

That’s the spirit Staci carries every day — and the spirit Advent invites all of us to reclaim.

Because this season is about leaning into the joy of the Savior who came for us -- and leaning forward in anticipation of His return. It’s about resurrection life in us -- the very Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead living and breathing through us (Romans 8:11).

So — you’re welcome, world! God blessed me with the privilege of bringing this resurrection-life girl into the world, and we’re all better for it.

Happy Birthday, my precious, faith-filled, joy-spilling-over daughter.
I love you more than words, and I thank God every day for the gift of YOU.

A Father’s Love at Christmas

 

Every December, I set out my nativity scenes — all dozen-plus of them — but this year -- something sweet caught my eye. Nearly every set shows Mary looking tenderly at Jesus in the manger or holding Him close, as any new mother would. But among all the figures, one nativity stood out from the rest.

In that one, it wasn’t Mary holding Baby Jesus -- It was Joseph.
Something in me stopped — stilled — softened.

A father holding the Son of God.
The carpenter embracing the Cornerstone.
A simple man holding the Savior of the world -- with the same tenderness any new daddy feels when his child is placed into his arms for the very first time.

And suddenly, Joseph wasn’t just a nativity figurine.
He was every father who has loved a baby.

I thought about Tim Tebow recently holding his new baby girl — the way his whole face lit up like Christmas morning, the gentle awe, the protective tenderness. There’s something unmistakably holy about the way a father looks at his child. No fear. No hesitation. Just love — pure and poured out.

Maybe that’s why Joseph’s moment moved me so deeply.
Because our Heavenly Father loves us like that.
Not from a distance.
Not through glass or cold tradition.
But up close, warm, steady, strong.

Our Father doesn’t flinch when He holds us.
He isn’t bored.
He isn’t preoccupied.
He delights.

Just as Joseph held Jesus, and just as modern daddies beam at their babies, our Father holds us — boys, girls, young, old — not with favoritism, but with fullness. We are His, and He is ours.

And that’s part of the Christmas miracle we often overlook.
Yes, a Savior was born.
Yes, a Messiah came.
But He came to show us the Father’s heart — a heart so full of love that He wrapped Himself in flesh, placed Himself in a manger, and grew up to stretch His arms wide enough to gather the whole world in an everlasting embrace.

So this year, as I look at my nativity scenes — especially that one where Joseph holds Jesus — I’m reminded:

Christmas isn’t just about a baby in a manger.
It’s about a Father in heaven who loves His children more than we can imagine.

And oh, what a beautiful thing it is to be held by Him!

The God of Sunrises, Scripture and Screws

Last weekend at Epiphany Ranch felt a little like stepping inside a hymn like "To God be the Glory" or "How Great Thou Art".

The first morning, Staci and I greeted the sunrise together at 6:00 a.m., wrapped in blankets, soft instrumental worship music floating in the background, the fireplace flickering its own quiet amen.

Buddy, their ever-faithful Australian Shepherd, curled at our feet, while Aggie and Lizzy — the feline queens of the ranch — supervised from nearby perches. It was peace with fur.

The next morning, I tiptoed in again, eager for another sunrise with my girl -- only to find Christiane, Payton’s sweetheart, sitting quietly by the fire with her Bible open. Staci asked, “What are you reading?”

Her answer? “Exodus. And wow… there are a lot of laws.”

We laughed — because yes, there are.

But then Staci said something that stopped me:

“Exodus was the instruction manual for creation. It had to be detailed. It had to be precise.”

And suddenly, it all made sense.

There were no hospitals then, no sanitation systems, no health codes, no government regulations. God wasn’t being tedious. He was teaching His people how to build a world. How to live. How to survive. How to thrive.

Every guideline in Exodus wasn’t nitpicking — it was love spelled out in careful lines.

It reminded me of the time Carl and I bought a pantry that came in approximately 350 pieces. Every bolt, every screw, every microscopic doo-dad had to be assembled “according to the instructions.”

At one point, we were convinced our marriage might not survive this sanctifying experience. One wrong bolt and the whole thing wobbled like a newborn calf.

But when we finally got it assembled (with the help of a dear friend who is highly skilled in woodwork), we stepped back and admired it — sturdy, steady, useful.

Just like God did in Exodus. Every detail, every design, every bolt of creation -- divinely intentional.

And here we are, centuries later, sitting by fireplaces at sunrise, reading His words with peace on our faces and gratitude in our hearts.

We get to enjoy the pantry.

We get to enjoy the world.

We get to enjoy the God who builds everything with purpose — including us.

If God cares about every bolt in Exodus, He surely cares about every detail of your life today. How awesome is that?

Let’s Have a Different Spirit

If there were ever a season that calls for a different spirit, it’s Christmas. And no, I don’t mean the decorating-till-midnight kind of spirit (although that can be fun). I’m talking about the spirit God pointed out in Numbers 14:24 when He said:

“But My servant Caleb, because he has a different spirit and has followed Me fully…”
Caleb didn’t blend in.
Caleb didn’t cave.
Caleb didn’t tremble at giants or bow to bad news.

Caleb believed God — fully, boldly, joyfully — and God said, “I’m bringing him into the land.”

Aw -- to be that kind of person in December -- in a world that’s stressed, hurried, negative, fearful, overbooked, and under-rested.
To be the one who carries peace into Walmart, joy into traffic, and faith into rooms filled with doubt — that’s a different spirit.

Joshua and Caleb were the minority report. While others said, “We can’t,” they said, “WE CAN — because God is with us!” (Numbers 13:30)

That’s the same spirit we need as Christmas lights glow, calendars fill, and the world tries to tell us we’re not enough, can’t make it, can’t overcome, can’t do Christmas right.

But people of faith? We take the “L” out of world — literally — and we get Word instead.
God’s Word. God’s promises. God’s presence.
God’s peace wrapped tighter than any ribbon under the tree.

Because here’s the beautiful truth:
A different spirit dances in the rain.
A different spirit smiles in the dark.
A different spirit walks in victory before the battle is even won.

And during the Christmas season, that different spirit shines brightest. Remember — the whole story of Christmas is built on people who lived differently:
Mary said yes to the impossible.
Joseph believed the unbelievable.
Shepherds ran toward glory.
Wise men followed a star.
Heaven broke open for ordinary people who had extraordinary faith.

So this Christmas, let’s carry the spirit of Caleb — bold, joyful, faith-filled, ready for whatever God calls “possible.”

Let’s be the ones who say, “Let’s go! God is with us — and we are well able!”

Because with that different spirit living inside us, the victory isn’t just likely -- it’s guaranteed!

#CalebSpirit #BigFaith #DifferentSpirit #wecanconquer

He Came… So We Could Live

If Jesus had stayed in heaven, no one could have blamed Him.
Glory beyond imagination. Worship without end. Angels on standby. No sickness, no sorrow, no sin. He had everything.

But love won’t stay where it’s comfortable.
Love goes where it’s needed.
And so — He came.

He stepped out of heaven’s brilliance and wrapped Himself in human skin. He traded the throne for a manger, eternity for time, majesty for humility -- all so that you and I would know, without a shadow of a doubt, that we are not alone. Not abandoned. Not forgotten.

He came to show us the way to live a life marked by peace when the world is noisy, joy when days are heavy, comfort when our hearts ache, and purpose in every step we take. Jesus didn’t just tell us how to live — He walked it out so we could follow His steps.

This life we’re living? It’s the rehearsal. The warm-up.
The opening act before the eternal story that never ends.

One day, we’ll step into forever with Him — reunited with our loved ones, cheering alongside the great cloud of witnesses, hanging out with the saints, the disciples, the pathfinders, the Billy Grahams and faithful teachers who poured the Word of God into our hearts.

But until then… we lead.
Not by preaching louder, but by living brighter.

We keep asking that old but powerful question:
“What would Jesus do?”
And then, with God’s grace, we do it.

We forgive when it’s hard.
We give when it stretches us.
We serve when no one sees.
We love when it costs us something.
We stand firm when life trembles.

Because the One who came from heaven to earth now lives in us — and He’s still guiding, still empowering, still showing us how to choose the abundant life He came to give.

So today, let’s walk like people who know the way.
Let’s live like people who’ve met the Savior.
Let’s be leaders who don’t just talk the talk — we walk the walk.

After all, He came to reach us -- so we can reach the world.

Keep Christ in Christmas and in Every Day

These two magnets — each gently reminding us to “Keep Christ in Christmas” — were gifts from dear friends. They now hold a place of honor on our refrigerator, where we see them every single day.

And I absolutely love our friends' hearts — because they’re right. With all the glitter, garland, goodies, and good intentions, it’s far too easy to forget WHO the Star of the show really is.

But let’s be honest -- Jesus doesn’t just want a cameo appearance in December.

He isn’t a seasonal decoration we pull out once a year, dust off, and place center stage until New Year’s Day.

He is our every day Savior.
Our every moment Redeemer.
Our always King.

Yes, the Christmas story began with an angel showing up in Nazareth with an announcement that turned Mary’s world upside down and Joseph’s upside right — “You will bring a Savior into the world.” And in Bethlehem, heaven kissed earth in the form of a newborn King.

But the story didn’t stop in a manger.

In just a few months, we’ll be celebrating Resurrection Sunday — proof that the baby in the manger didn’t stay a baby. He became our Redeemer, our Burden Bearer, our Sin Forgiver, our Second Chance Giver, and our soon coming King.

So yes — let’s keep Christ in Christmas. But let’s also keep Him in:
• our homes
• our hearts
• our conversations
• our decisions
• our comings and goings
• our moments of joy
• our moments of meltdown

Every second of every day, He is the Welcomed Guest — the One who turns our chaos into calm, our worry into worship, and our ordinary days into holy ground.

He understands us because He became one of us. He sees us, knows us, carries us, comforts us — because He walked this earth, felt our pain, faced our temptations, and still promises:

“I will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Hebrew 13:5-6)
That’s not seasonal.
That’s eternal.

So when I look at those refrigerator magnets, I smile -- because they remind me of the greatest truth we get to hold onto this season: We keep Christ in Christmas — because Christ keeps us every moment, every day, every heartbeat!

Advent: Holidays or Holy Days?

I spoke about Advent yesterday but I am leaning in even more! By the way, Happy Advent, dear friends! There’s a sweetness in the air this time of year that no scented candle can replicate — a hush, a hope, a holy expectancy drifting right into our homes like a soft winter breeze.

But before we dive too deep into the shopping lists and glittery gift bags, it’s worth pausing to remember what Advent really is.

Advent is a season of expectation. The word comes from the Latin adventus, meaning “coming.” It’s the four-week journey where we prepare our homes and our hearts to celebrate the birth of Jesus. HOPE wrapped in swaddling cloths. JOY lying in a manger. LOVE made flesh.

Advent is meant to nurture peace and tune our souls to the quiet joy of a Savior who came close enough to be held. And as we make our plans this season, everything we do will either make sense — or become senseless — in relation to this purpose.

If baking cookies helps your heart lean toward Christ, bake your heart out.
If taking long walks in quiet places makes room for peace, lace up your shoes.
If sitting by the Christmas tree in silence or serving someone who’s hurting helps us prepare for Jesus, then let’s give ourselves fully to that.

Yesterday, as we began our own Advent journey, I couldn’t help but remember the years I rushed through December like a woman competing for the Most Festive Christmas House Award. Five bedrooms, five Christmas trees. Outdoor displays that could signal airplanes. It was beautiful -- and exhausting.

But Advent whispers something gentler: “Prepare ye the way of the Lord.” (Isaiah 40:30)

As we drove home from East Texas Sunday night, we saw stars shining across the countryside — modern reminders of the Star that guided wise men across deserts to the home of the Holy Family. And suddenly the shepherds didn’t seem so far away. They, too, were tending flocks on their own acreages of land when heaven touched earth.

This is Advent -- Slowing down. Preparing room. Letting Jesus come close. Aw! Sweet heavenly peace is my personal goal -- to lean into everything that our Savior brought to us! "You I will keep in peace -- whose mind is stayed on Me!" (Isaiah 26:3)

Let’s choose holy days over holidays.
Less hustle, more hush.
Less frenzy, more faith.
Less glitter, more glory.

May Advent transform our days as we prepare for the coming of our King – our Savior and Lord! Oh come, oh come Emmanuel!

Advent: When Heaven Comes Home to Us

Yesterday was the first Sunday of Advent — the doorway into the most beautiful story ever told. And while the world around us seems to sprint toward December 25th, Advent gently invites us to slow down -- to breathe -- to look up -- and to remember the holy journey to Bethlehem that changed everything.

And, at Epiphany Ranch -- the fireplace glowing, the whole crew gathered like birds returning home for the season.

Payton scooped his sweetheart up from the airport. Alexia and Winston brought wedding photos that made us “oooh” and “aaah” like we were seeing them walk the aisle all over again. Carl and I settled into the joy of being surrounded by children, grands, and in-loves -- everyone right where they belonged.

And wouldn’t you know — our own little family pilgrimage this weekend mirrored that ancient story in the sweetest, most unexpected ways.

Isn’t that what Advent is really about?
Family. Journey. Expectation. Love.

Mary and Joseph made their way to Bethlehem carrying more than supplies — they carried a Promise. And though their path was anything but easy, God met them in a stable, wrapped heaven in swaddling cloths, and placed Hope right in their arms.

And here we are, thousands of years later, still gathering, still traveling, still preparing room in our homes and in our hearts for the same Jesus who changed the world from a manger.

In the early morning with Staci — in our recliners, watching the sunrise, Aggie the cat settled into the peace in the room — felt like my own personal Advent chapel.

The hush. The warmth. The holy nearness of God whispering, “I’m here. I always come to those who make room for Me.”

And then by evening, heaven showed up in family laughter, shared meals, and Christmas photos in creams and browns that made us look like a cozy Hallmark cast.

This is Advent:
Heaven touching earth.
Holy weaving into ordinary.
Family wrapped in love.
Jesus drawing near.

So as we step into this beautiful season, let’s remember:
Advent isn’t just waiting for Christmas morning.

It’s celebrating that He still comes — to living rooms, ranch houses, jammie photo shoots, airport reunions, and quiet sunrise prayers.
The greatest love story ever told didn’t stay in Bethlehem.
It keeps unfolding -- right here in our family, and in yours.

#AdventHope #heavenonearth #RoomforJesus

Come Away With Me

Some mornings don’t just dawn -- they unfold like a love letter from the Lord. Yesterday was one of those mornings.

It was just my daughter Staci, and me — two recliners, one fireplace, one soft sunrise stretching its fingers across the big East Texas sky -- and one little surprise guest: Aggie, the cat who never snuggles, curled right into my lap like she had been assigned by heaven to complete the moment.

We weren’t rushing.
We weren’t fixing anything.
We weren’t replaying old hurts or juggling to-do lists.
We were simply sitting — in the quiet, peaceful presence of the One who whispers, “Come away with Me.”

And we did.

There’s something sacred about sharing sunrise with your daughter -- no makeup, no hurry, no agenda. Just two hearts settling into the “secret place of the Most High,” watching the world wake up while we gratefully rested in the presence of the God who never sleeps.

We prayed.
We chatted.
We breathed.
We remembered.
And we let go.

Let go of old issues that try to hitch a ride into a new day.
Let go of the people who bruised our hearts.
Let go of the pressure to hurry, perform, or push through.
Instead, we caught hold of something better -- the sweet embrace of our Lord.

There, in that warm room, wrapped in blankets and grace, it felt like Jesus pulled a chair right up beside us. His peace was thick, His nearness unmistakable. Thanksgiving settled over us like a soft shawl.

The world tells us that “getting things done” is the goal. But mornings like this remind me that the real goal -- is getting close. Not doing more — but being more aware of Him.

Every day holds this invitation:
To step out of the hustle and into His arms.
To stop striving and start abiding.
To trade the noise for His whisper.
To enter His gates — not with complaints or worries — but with thanksgiving.

Yesterday was a gift. But so is today. And tomorrow.

Because the same Lord who met us at sunrise is waiting to meet you wherever you pause long enough to say, “Here I am, Lord. I’m coming away with You.”

#epiphanyranch #sunrise #FireplaceCozy #comeawaywithme

The Joys of Thanks-Giving and Thanks-Living

Thanksgiving Day is behind us, but Carl and I packed our bags with joy and headed straight into a Thanksgiving life -- destination: Epiphany Ranch, East Texas.

Ahh-- that slice of heaven my Staci and Larry call home. The kind of place where the sky stretches so wide it feels like God painted it just for us. Where the air is fresh enough to clear our minds, warm our hearts, and maybe even straighten out our attitudes if it needs a little adjusting.

We’ll sip morning coffee on the porch while the sunrise puts on a show that takes our breath every single time. The chickens will cluck their morning opinions, the birds will offer their cheerful soundtrack, and the day will unfold slowly -- like God whispering, “Rest here -- breathe here -- enjoy Me here.”

By this afternoon, the house will be full -- Payton and his sweetheart, Alexia and her brand-new husband, Winston (still newlywed-glowing), laughter bouncing off the walls, and games and puzzles spread across every table.

And don’t think for a minute that Carl and I hesitate to jump in. Oh no -- we’re as competitive as the young ones. We don’t always win, but we give it our best shot and make them earn every point.

And then the food! Lord, have mercy. Nana's famous carrot cake, cheese ball and fruit salad and Staci and Larry's delectable goodies along with the turkey, dressing, and all the tasty treats we all love -- dishes that taste like comfort food and tradition rolled into one.

There’s something about good food in the country that almost makes us want to hum a hymn while we eat.

Standing in all this goodness, I’m reminded that this -- this is the life God wants us to live. A life full of joy, expectation, and the wide-open belief that something good is always on the horizon.

Thanksgiving Day may be over, but thanksgiving living goes on.

In the fresh air.

In the sunsets.

In the family laughter.

In the quiet moments where gratitude wells up without being asked.

God’s country reminds us -- His mercies don’t run on a holiday schedule. His goodness doesn’t expire when the leftovers do. Every sunrise is a fresh invitation to joy, and every sunset is a reminder that His peace covers us from beginning to end.

So here’s to Epiphany Ranch --

To family --

To wide open skies, fish jumping in the lake, warm hearts, and the God who fills every moment with beauty.

Thanksgiving isn’t just a day. It’s a life -- worth living!

#Thanksgiving2025 #familylove #epiphanyranch

The Blessings Keep Coming

Here we are -- the day after Thanksgiving. The dishes were washed, the leftovers were stacked in the fridge and the cooks of America finally sat down for the first time in 48 hours.

For some, today is the great exhale after pouring heart and soul into a feast of epic proportions. For others? It’s the annual sound of the starter pistol: On your mark… get set… SHOP! Black Friday has officially begun.

But for us? Today is a different kind of glorious. We’re heading to East Texas where Larry, Staci, and their family are gathering for Round Three of Thanksgiving! More hugs, more eating, more carrot cake, more joy, and yes -- more elastic waistbands.

Yesterday’s blessings are still lingering in my heart. First, Thanksgiving at Ryan and Shawntel’s stunning new home in Austin. The table was full of food, family, friends, and even a precious widowed father this year and doing his best to raise his little girl with courage and tenderness.

There was room for all of us -- those who came from far away, those who carried heavy hearts, those who needed a place to belong. Isn’t it just like God to give us a table big enough for every story?

Last night came another wave of joy at Carl’s family Thanksgiving. As each person shared what they were thankful for, I could almost see Jesus sitting right there with us. Psalm 22:3 says that God inhabits the praises of His people -- and I believe He pulled up a chair beside every thankful heart.

And now, today, we turn toward East Texas for more celebrations. If laughter, food, and togetherness were Olympic events, we’d be bringing home the gold.

But here’s what settles deep in my soul this morning: Every person we encountered yesterday was made in the image of God. Every face reflected His handiwork. Every story held traces of Him.

Did you notice Him at your table? In the server who refilled your tea? In the quiet family member who carried unspoken worry?
Jesus said, “I was hungry and you gave Me something to eat. I was a stranger and you invited Me in.” (Matthew 25:35) Was He present at your table?

The closer we walk with our Lord and Savior, the easier He is to spot -- at the table, the parking lots or in the Black Friday sales lines where patience runs thin.

Wherever we were yesterday and wherever we are today -- let's carry on with Thanks-Living! May encouragement be felt and gratitude be plenty as we look for Jesus in every single person we meet -- not just at seasonal gatherings, but every day may we choose to walk, act and look like Jesus!

#EncourageOneAnother #WalkWithJesus #gratitude #ActLikeJesus