Mountain-Size Fear

After a perfect day, driving through the mountains of Glacier National Park on “Going to the Sun Road”  (See “A Day in the Park”, we drove up to Babb on the east side of the park and then in to the small town of Many Glacier. Ron and I enjoyed lunch in an Alpine lodge while we reminisced

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The Sun is Shining!

So many people are sick now – maybe you – or your loved one. I was very sick a few years ago around this time of year. We had just arrived in Florida for the winter. . .

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Whispers of Advent – Luke Chapter 18

From a state of brokenness, she heard Jesus whisper to her throughout the Advent Season.

Her son – her only son –  was ill. It was a strange illness – undiagnosed, puzzling the doctors. One doctor after another. One hospital after another. 

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Praising, Like Mary – Advent Awaits

Years ago, I had written those words in my Bible, alongside “Mary’s Song,” verses 46-55 in Luke, Chapter One:

Make praising God your second nature. 

Now, in this Advent season, the words remind me that Mary was a young woman who praised God! In fact, it seemed “second nature” to her!

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Waiting like Elizabeth – Advent Awaits

She had probably attended the births of her nieces and nephews, had rejoiced with her sisters and cousins and friends at the births of their babies, had seen their babies at breast while her own breasts yearned the suckle of a child yet unconceived. I suspect she had often gone home crying, once again pleading with the Lord for a baby of her own.  I watched my sister go through this agony for years – baby showers for others, never for her own. Many of you know her pain.
 

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Advent Awaits!

I love adventure, don’t you? Some time ago, I wrote a series of posts on my website titled “Adventure Awaits,” the theme for our big trip. How exciting it was for my husband, Ron, and me to venture 32 days across the Northwest US, 11-states, 7323 miles, hauling our cute little travel trailer – just the perfect size for the two of us.

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My Ron. His Ron. God was at work behind the scenes.

I’ve screamed at the enemy – the devil – many times in the past and will many times again, I’m sure. But on a recent Tuesday morning, June 13, shortly after midnight, in a hospital parking lot, I raised my voice in anger and authority against the thief who was trying to kill my husband:

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True Confessions

I pray as I walk down the narrow road,  talking to the Father about those early days, years ago, when I was so zealous in my faith, so trusting, so willing. I remember the words written on the thin pages of my King James Bible, so vivid and distinct, as though they were freshly written with the very ink on the true papyrus used by St. Paul. The words seemed to magnify, embolden, and rise up, penetrating my spirit:

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I hear the Master whisper . . .

I drive past it nearly every day, on my way somewhere. Today, though, I pull over and park my car in the lot, now overlaid with weeds. I look at the church – an unkempt building that has been empty for many years now – and I listen. No music flows through its closed windows.  No children laugh or play on the rotted teeter-totter in its side yard. No pastor preaches from its pulpit. Instead, I hear the sounds of the country – the birds, the leaves kissing the breeze, a tractor in the distance,

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