A recent edition of Waco Today featured David Crowder's six year renovation project(we had to go check it out). I said a quiet prayer that God would let our house be completed before six years was up for us and then I dove in to the details. David and his wife bought the home of the man who invented Dr. Pepper. It is encouraging to see something that took so much effort and energy come to completion. May we soon see the same thing. You can read the story of the Crowder renovation here .
Alright, baby photo below. Quit emailing me! ;-) I remember having a writer's callous when I was five years old. In my adolescence I hated it. Now, I find it fascinating. Almost as long as I have been alive I have borne a mark that declares I am passionate about something in such a way that it bores into my skin. I have been blessed with wonderful Apple products to use and I still prefer writing things out. I heard Michelle Pfeiffer say David Kelley writes out all of his award winning shows on yellow legal pad. I like that. I prefer a journal and a real wood pencil (the kind that are stained, not the yellow ones.) There's something romantic about it to me. Writing is a choice medium in my relationship with God . I love to prayer journal. I pour out thanks for every minute that I get to spend doing it. In last weeks post I told you that God broke my Mac so I would spend some time alone with Him (then I can have it back in January). Shortly thereafter the enemy came in tel...
I encountered Jesus as a young child in a church pew in the balcony of an old country church. Through a lifetime of trial, I knew he was there. I did not always know or understand what he wanted of me, but I knew I was wanted. We could go through all of the pain and abuse of my life and unpack each tiny detail, but that is not what this is really about. I love what Frederick Buechner said, “Pain is not the biggest thing that has ever happened to you.” That is true. I have beheld far greater glory. As I clung to his word through all of this, I knew he was there. My story about trying begins long before I began trying to have children. I tell you this because almost half of the population has been abused in some way. The attack on my uterus began when I was four-years-old. I spent most of my life believing that I was broken and I was crippled by shame. I carried that shame into every relationship I had. As I encountered people in the church, I never felt safe enough to ask for...
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