I don’t know about you, but I have trouble handing Jesus every minute of my day, for all of my days. I want to keep some control, have my own time, my down time, or whatever. This part of being in the kingdom doesn’t seem to come naturally.
This year a friend who is also very good with plants gave me about eight new plants, some flowers some vegetables. I was so sure that they would be dead within weeks. But for the first time in my life my pots are green and fruitful.
Today we have a guest post, a devotional story from author Linda Rondeau.
I was created for a noble cause. I believed this from the beginning. With loving patience, Giovani transformed me from imperfect, undefined clay into the finest porcelain urn in all of Italy.
An e-mail from God showed up in my in-box last November, during a year I strained to wring out the deeper novel my literary agent was convinced I had in me. I needed to scrape out my emotions and smear them on the page. But I only knew how to shove them inside.
Writer Jennifer Slattery: When my daughter was young, I spent a great deal of time shining up the inside and outside of our house. I wrapped so much of who I was in what others could see. Pretty ugly, huh? God thoughts so, and as I grew closer to Him, He redirect my heart to things of greater value—eternal value.
hen I was a young woman, I hoped that I would marry the perfect man. I hoped that I would become a mother. I hoped that I would be happy, and have a wonderful life. But when I should have been patient, I rushed into marriage to the wrong man.
Today we have a guest post from author Morgan Busse. Have you ever had a dream?
I think I’ve been coasting through life lately. I’m contemplating what the apostle Paul wrote in Romans 12:1-2 and wondering how it’s challenging me to grow today.
I don’t know about you, but I get so wound up in what I am doing that I forget to talk to God.
Our Romans Bible study has gotten to Romans 8, the last third of the chapter. We were trying to decide which verses to memorize. Want to help me decide?
Those messy piles are the remnants of my childhood home. I’m compiling the material into an archive, and each time I dig in I learn something new.
Most of all I loved taking my toddlers to the park to pick dandelions. In the spring, there were lots of beautiful flowers in neighbors’ yards that they longed to touch, pull, pick, and generally destroy. I had to steer them away. They couldn’t admire them without touching them, so we had to go somewhere else.
