We Won’t Remember

If you have followed my blog for any length of time, you’ll have quickly noticed a perhaps unintentional yet recurring theme: hope and joy despite grief and pain. More than once, I have heard believers critical of others for being open about their emotional difficulties, citing supposed bitterness or perhaps lack of spiritual toughness (“you…

Special Prayer Request

It’s a tiny village at the very end of the road. Bordering on the Chumpán River and the southern shore of the Laguna de Términos, Santa Rita is much like any other little place in Campeche. There is one difference though. For 23 years, Ernesto and Delfina have faithfully shared God’s Word despite enormous trials.…

Thankful

Two years ago, we were barely surfacing from the deepest depths we have ever plumbed. It had been four years of nonstop trials, trials of the darkest sort. It was American Thanksgiving, just like today. My mental list of thankfulness went something like this: I’m aliveI have three kids still aliveWe haven’t been unrighteously excommunicated…

For the Wearied Heart

“Thou knowest, not alone as God, all knowing;As Man, our mortal weakness Thou hast proved:On earth with purest sympathies o’erflowing,O Savior, Thou hast wept, and Thou hast loved:And love and sorrow still to Thee may come,And find a hiding-place, a rest, a home.”H.LL. If it were possible to weary our Lord’s ear, I’d be hanging…

The Weirdness of it All

“Hi Panga de la Panga,” he said into his little cardboard phone with the numbers inked in with my messy writing, “I’ll call you back later. I’m in gospel meeting.” His little bare abs flexed as he reached over to situate his “phone” horizontally, propped up against a bunch of hymn books. He was quite…

I’m the Wife

It’s not very ladylike to put on boxing gloves. I guess that’s why I’m recurring to my faithful pen (or thumbs, in actuality) instead. We all imagined quarantine to be a time of relative peace. We’d just tuck in and quietly do our thing, waiting out the virus as best as possible. Far, not only…

The Corridors of History

Any inhaler of literature lives with thousands of stories floating conveniently around in their grey matter, much like sailboats on the open sea. Bobbing here and there, our neurons flash around from Europe to Asia, from 750 BC to 1665 AD, from kings to servants, to whatever happens to catch the glint of the sun. …

Hard Things

It was back in fourth grade, Mrs Houck’s class. As usual, I had some free time while the rest of the kids finished their work so I picked out one of my favorite books from the overflowing shelves. I sat there in relative silence, just the scratch of 25 pencils around me and lost myself…

Oleander Avenue

There are solitary, soul-feeding lanes, unmarked and unpaved we all must wander down. They are places of hidden beauty and comfort where one is safe to grieve, to forget awhile, to grow and learn. Oleander and Bismarck Palm That’s when I go for a walk down Oleander Avenue. A place where the Creator and I…