Monthly Archives: June 2011

The Power of a Conjunction

With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible. Matthew 19:26 NIV

Which Way?photo © 2005 Luca Masters | more info (via: Wylio)

Have you ever thought about the power of the conjunction? A conjunction connects words, phrases, or clauses. It builds bridges between words, pathways linking words that may have otherwise never been united. One of my favorite popular and powerful conjunctions is but. A sentence can skip along in one direction, then with the addition of one little conjunction, the meaning can stop and march the other way.

Really. It’s that powerful. Here is an example.

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Hold On Tight to Your Nair and Your Lord

Nair is my new best friend. I am thirty five and let’s just put it this way, I think I have more hair on my chin than my husband!! Now granted I can count my blessings that most of them are not thick, black hairs.  But don’t get me wrong, the peach fuzz on my chin is an intrusion of my rights.

Over my 18 years of being a Christian, I thought I felt secure. I had the King of Kings in my life and knew that I was a princess, a child of the King. In a conversation last fall with a friend of mine, I (clear throat) told her that I did not struggle with insecurity.

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Celebrating the small things.

Life is full of major milestones. Births, graduations, weddings…These are times of great celebration, times of gathering together with those who love us most and marking the event with lots of laughter and love.

And then there are those other milestones. The ones that don’t necessarily get earmarked as “special” until much later, when our minds revisit them and we smile in memory. They may be words spoken, moments shared, or just a meeting of the mind.

We had a few of those milestones this past week. Four of the “littles” in our life came to spend a week and we heaped up a great big pile of those “other” milestones.

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Life In The Fast Lane

I’ve never been one to enjoy the thrill of a fast moving car.  I’ve had the occasion to find myself in one a time or two.  Buckled up tightly, I hung on for dear life as I was tossed to and fro, whipping around turns as the outside world passed me by in a blur.  I am older and wiser now and would never choose to be in a fast moving vehicle.  But my life can feel like one at times, as I am whipped to and fro, backwards and forward, taking sharp turns and enduring sudden starts and stops.  On those days, life passes me by and I wonder where the day went.

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Sacrificial Blessings

Luke 14:33b – . . . any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple. (NIV)

I prayed an impossible prayer. I cried to God, day and night, for a home in which my family could live for free. Free was all we could afford. The door to Tanzania had just closed, our house in another state hadn’t sold, neither my husband nor I had a job, and we lived with my in-laws. The stress weighed heavy.

In an amazing feat, God answered our prayer. After months of lifting my concern in prayer, my husband brought home the news that an elder from our church felt led to allow us to use his old place of business, which was a house, for us to live rent and utilities free.

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the ballerina

The sun never really shone today. Instead, the world was blanketed in a fine mist — covering the trees and coating the world in soft dampness. Hannah, my fifteen year old accomplished ballerina, and I were making our way up outdoor stairs for a ballet demo at a local art festival.

As our steps moved forward in unison I became aware that the one walking next to me was no longer small. She had grown.

Her feet moved forward, and she chatted freely — about the mist, and the Mississippi River behind, about pointe shoes, and the festival spread about. Glancing around, I noticed those looking at her in her blue ballet outfit, hair in a neat bun, and graceful posture.

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My Heavenly Daddy

“I’m ashamed of my wife! I’m ashamed of my daughters!” My dad’s drunken voice jarred my birthday-eve sleeplessness. It wasn’t the first alcohol-induced tirade I’d overheard, but it was the first that specifically included me.

I remember thinking, “I’m only 8 years old. What I have done to be ashamed of?”

Six weeks later my mom picked up my my sister and I from school in the middle of the day and we were soon on a bus from Michigan to California to “visit” my grandparents. I didn’t know I’d never live in Michigan again.

I didn’t see my dad for the next six years.

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Sitting Still

My seven-year-old daughter has quite a bit of energy. In fact, she almost never sits still. Unlike my son, she is not the type to cuddle up on the couch and snuggle. She would rather be running around the house or playing in the yard. Many days I find myself asking her, “Would you please sit still for just a few minutes?”. My husband says she’s just like me. She always has to be doing something.

A few days ago, she woke up early and came to my bedroom. I invited her to climb into my bed and snuggle. To my surprise, she did.

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