Just for Women

Imagine if each time you had the urge to text, tweet, email, log onto -banned site-, or phone a friend to share some heartfelt need, you stopped and prayed instead.

Really prayed, trusting God to answer.

That's faith.

Asking and believing in the...

 

My mother was a teacher. She told me many, many times that the first 5 years of a child's life were the most important. I knew what she meant; that those years are when children are most impressionable. However, I don't think I fully understood until many years...

 

Few could disagree that he was a strange sort. His appearance alone reflected that, as did his diet of locusts. Yes, locusts.

But that isn't what set him apart. It was his life — his very purpose and the way he intentionally spent each breath — that distinguished...

 

Special Note: The following comes to us through Ann Voskamp's A Holy Experience and from the heart of Joni Eareckson Tada. In a week where we have focused on tough things, hard things, and true realities, I can't think of anyone with more integrity to...

 

 
I sit at the prayer bench before my bedroom window.

Outside, our boys roll millions of flakes into a snow fort...

 

Imagine you're holding your newborn son. Perfect in every way. No treasure rivals a healthy child, but a few weeks later, an uneasy feeling invades. Your son turns his head toward sounds, but his eyes don't focus on anything — not even your face.

To this set of...

 

She'd dropped her voice when she told me that first Sunday of Advent that the kid had tried to kill himself.

That there had been texts, photos of a rope, proof of how it was going to be done.

And then this call to 911.

This was the part that she didn't have...

 

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

Do you ever read a scripture that has on steel-toed boots — a pair that steps on all ten toes?

For several months, one such scripture traipsed around after me as I recalled Jesus' instructions about giving. He had watched as contributors made...

 

"Each wheat head is full this year — large. Like that year when you were in France."

He pulls out a long, slender stalk — shows me the wheat kernels filled out right to the end.

France?

The wheat, out past the barn and to the north, it sways in mid-summer's...

 

I watch you in the kitchen, slicing up a pie, summer evening sloping gold across your face.

How do you know the moment when you love someone the most?

I used to think it was that wild moment of crazy grace when you asked for forever on Reesor's side road...