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Mother’s Day

I remember when her mother died. Mom’s heart was broken, and I thought I understood.  Soon after, Mom and I and my daughters went to a Mother/Daughter Banquet to celebrate Mother’s Day. I was celebrating her – my mother, and I told her so. But Mom was not celebrating. Her heart was broken from the loss of her own mother, my Grandma Locke. And again, I thought I understood.

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Remember what He said . . .

The day was the worst ever. It was neither “Good” nor “Holy,” as we now refer to the Friday of Holy Week. In the midst of the curious, the angry, the Jewish officials, and the Roman soldiers, this handful of Christ followers – the women – stood near the cross, numbed in their sorrow and despair. Their Messiah, their Lord, their Savior,  had been brutally beaten – beyond recognition. Earlier, they had followed Him and the procession of onlookers as He carried His cross, sometimes falling to the ground, up the hill.

How can He possibly continue. Please God.

But He did continue.

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My Great Defender

I’m    always fascinated – and thankful.  Women marched – and marched – and marched! Then 100 years ago, women gained the right to vote.  And because of them, we women today have not only the right to vote but equal rights overall. Those marching women changed history for all women in our country, positively affecting women in other countries, as well. It was the huge step for women. They stood together with very few men supporting them. They were our early defenders.

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When Life Roars . . .

  When Life Roars Jesus Whispers is a Christian Living book that “encourages our confidence in Christ when our own stories go off the rails,” as Bill Crowder, well-known Bible teacher, writes in his endorsement of the book.

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Like the woman of Samaria

He “needed” to go through Samaria. He could have gone around Samaria – out of the way, like others did, to avoid the dirty, barren route in the middle of a dry, hot day. But he went through Samaria – seeking the woman, the lost woman.

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The Surf

It was the end of the year – the New Year’s Eve – and we stood on the beach, watching the sunset,  and praying for our family, as had become our custom these recent years along this stretch of sea. We prayed for each by name, our hearts pouring into every praise and every request. It was a stirring time, of course, reflecting upon the past year, its blessings and its trials – and looking with hopeful anticipation into the next. And as we prayed, the sun lowered along the horizon.

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At the Cross (Route 66, Chapter 5)

Ron was hoping to see ranches, but Texas is a BIG state and there weren’t very many ranches this far north, in the panhandle. We did see a few, and I was fascinated with their old windmills.. catching pics of all I could see along the road.

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