And all the while, He's been here, writing a far more colorful array of storylines than my tunnel-vision mind would consider.
Place of Mercy
As I finally surrendered to the process of what God has been trying to teach me about my pride and my deep-rooted habit of pushing help away, I began to see Him showing me what Mercy looks like.
He Got His Smile Back
He tapped on my front door while I was in my kitchen supervising the plumber (life on the mission field is REAL, y'all), and even through the blinds on the door I could see him grinning. With all his teeth.
Protected: Being “Madrina”
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Green Paint
It was a Monday, sunny and 80 degrees. Actually, this is unusually nice weather for Monterrey, the desert where we live and serve. On this particular morning, a group of 18-year-olds from a Christian school were along for the ride as we worked to fix up different areas of an orphanage near our campus. The … Continue reading Green Paint
Querida
They say the longer you know someone, the better you know them. (Unless, of course, you're me, and the "Someone" in question is Jesus.) You'd think I'd know Him better by now, after almost 20 years of calling Him Lord. You'd think I'd be able to at least be able to predict or find patterns … Continue reading Querida
Unmasked.
I walked on the cracked soil (our home is the desert!) and rocky patches of the soccer field at the children's home, praying for the little faces that had just been smiling up into mine as they waved me over to play with them. Praying because they seemed to be perfectly happy and normal children … Continue reading Unmasked.
We Will Not Run
"Porque eres extranjera..." he began rapidly, almost nervously, and my mind froze in alarm. The young man at the checkout verbally identified me as a foreigner, then withheld my new purchase behind the counter and asked me something about
All In.
Do we trust His heart toward us enough to allow Him -- even to ASK Him -- to write a new story, to call us out deeper than our feet (or our resources, or our human logic) could ever wander? Being "all in" means getting "all out" of the boat.
I Dare You.
"Atrévete a creer," I wrote last night in purple ink, a mentor-letter to a young person from a Spanish-speaking country. "Dare to believe." I stopped suddenly, the pen suspended above the paper. Wasn't God saying the same thing to me?
Rhythms of Courage 