We each have a life story, penned without ink, read by the people around us. Who's writing your story?

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Loaves and Fish

A few loaves and fish in a crumpled sack . . .
"What are they among so many?"
The supply fails to match the vast demand
On grassy slopes.
Inside a child's heart,
I lift my offering with meager hands.
Without reproach, He accepts my loaves and fish,
And one by one the needs are met.
Fully satisfied.
"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
2 Corinthians 12:9

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Forty Years a Valentine

My husband's valentine this year noted we met forty years ago this coming fall. "Forty years is a long time, nearly two-thirds of our lives," he wrote. "I'm glad God has allowed us to be together for so many years . . ."

I'm glad, too. I almost lost him nearly twelve years ago in a car crash. I've never gotten over the miracle of his healing.

We spent some time reminiscing about our first Valentine's Day date, a banquet sponsored by the college we attended. I called home, pretty sure the tall, skinny guy from Michigan would ask me to go with him. "I'll need a dress," I told my mom, over 800 miles away. Before Barry even asked me, my mom had purchased yards of double knit red fabric, and my grandma had it cut out, ready to sew. The floor length dress arrived just in time for the special event--at the Chattanooga Choo Choo.

Back then we never thought about where our lives would take us. Maybe it's good we didn't have a map of the future. But looking back, there's an unmistakable red thread of love woven through the dark and bright and in-between shades of the past forty years. Forty years in which two young kids turned into soon-to-be senior citizens.


We know a little more about love now than we did back then. It's more than stars and hearts and flowers. It's grit, acceptance, prayer, and sacrifice. In a word, old-fashioned commitment.

Happy Valentine's Day, hon. I love you.

What's your Valentine's Day story?


Wednesday, February 4, 2015

What Ya Can't Straighten Up

Crooked. They've been saying this about me from day one.

I was born with clubbed feet and had to wear what my mom called "special shoes," little shoes that looked like they were on the wrong feet, to be worn day and night. Thanks to the faithfulness of my parents, my little feet became straight and normal. I learned to walk without a glitch.

In fifth grade, I added a full set of braces to my smile. After over three years, straight teeth finally triumphed over a crowded overbite.  

But scoliosis wasn't that easy. Although not a severe case, I'm quite crooked. Surgeons worked around it after a car accident in 2003. Chiropractors shake their heads as they try to straighten me out. One shoulder is higher than the other, my hips are uneven, and on and on.

I'll never stand straight in this life. I've had to accept that.

Some things we just can't straighten up, no matter how hard we try. Bodies, relationships, problems of all kinds. Can you identify?  We're all crooked in one way or another.

There's a little phrase tucked in an ancient prophet's writings that I think about sometimes. "The crooked shall be made straight" (Isaiah 40:4). When ya can't straighten up, a promise like this offers comfort and hope. It's a promise I'm banking on!

I bet you are, too.