Warrior Mode Activated

  When I heard the words “You have breast cancer,” my world changed in an instant. Suddenly, the future I had always taken for granted was filled with uncertainty. There were so many fears, so many questions, and so many things I wondered if I would ever live to see. One of those things was becoming a grandmother. I mourned over the thought that I might never get to hold a grandchild in my arms, watch those tiny fingers wrap around mine, or experience the joy of loving another generation of our family. And now, here she is. My sweet Juniper. 💕 Sometimes I look at her and find myself overwhelmed with emotion. Because I remember those days when I wasn't sure this moment would ever come. I think about all the things I could have missed, and I am reminded just how precious the gift of life really is. But my gratitude goes so much deeper than this one beautiful little girl. I'm thankful that I'm still here to love my husband, to share this life we've built together, and to...

  I went to a dear friend’s funeral today. It’s hard to wrap my mind around it. On Friday afternoon, he was doing my hair—laughing, talking, just like always. On Sunday, I saw him at church and told him how much I loved it. Less than 24 hours later, he was gone. Completely unexpected. I will miss him. But I also know this: in that moment, he stepped out of this world and into the presence of Jesus.  And maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about a dream I had a couple of weeks ago… It was the most unusual dream—one that didn’t feel like a dream at all. It came out of nowhere. I hadn’t been thinking about anything like it, hadn’t read anything or heard anything that might have stirred it up. And yet, there I was. It began with a sudden, deafening sound—like the crack of thunder right on top of you—followed by a blinding flash of light. Not a gentle glow, but something sharp and electric, like lightning splitting open the sky. I knew, somehow, that I was asleep… but whatever w...

As we pack up our home for this new adventure, I’ve noticed something: I am meticulous about packing boxes. Every item has its place. Every space is filled like a jigsaw puzzle. No wasted room, no rattling, no guesswork. Each box is perfectly labeled, double-taped, and ready for battle. Scott, on the other hand?  Let’s just say… his approach is a bit more freestyle. 😅  Random items tossed in. Empty gaps galore. The tape? A little wonky. The label? One word: “MISC.”  And unfortunately, his boxes often collapse under pressure. The other day, as I was grumbling (lovingly, of course) about another one of his “creative” boxes, it hit me: this is exactly how we pack our lives. Some of us are like my boxes.  We fill every inch of our lives—our time, our minds, our hearts—with responsibilities, expectations, to-do lists, and noise. We look like we’ve got it all together. Everything is labeled, taped shut, Instagram-ready. But underneath? We’re heavy. Burdened. Exhausted. O...

  The past two months, my heart has been full to bursting. In May our boys were home...not all at once, but enough for this mama’s heart to be thankful. Their visits have stirred up a flood of memories: youth group shenanigans, mission trips, praise band rehearsals, and the little church band they started with their friends...Psalm 23. Over the years they’ve poured their hearts into serving alongside us, and I can’t imagine a greater privilege than worshiping and serving the Lord shoulder to shoulder with our own children. I’ve watched them grow into men here. I’ve seen them form friendships that will last a lifetime, fall in love with young women, who are beautiful inside and out, right here in this community, and begin new lives and families that are now woven into ours. Every memory...big or small...is resurfacing like treasures pulled from a deep well: broken bones, flat tires, late-night conversations, concerts, graduations. And with each one, my heart breaks a little more ...

A friend recently posed a thought-provoking question on Facebook: "If you woke up today knowing it would be your last day on earth, what would you do? Who would you spend your time with?" This question made me pause and reflect, as many of her posts do. She is incredibly kind, true to herself regardless of others' opinions, unafraid to try new things, and extremely intelligent and I admire her. Thanks friend. There is something I want everyone to know. I want my sons and their wives, my beautiful daughters-in-love to know. I want my future grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and all future generations to understand this without a shadow of a doubt. If you're reading this blog somewhere out there in the future, know that if there is one core message in this blog, this is it. Please, read this. All of you. Promise me that if you don't know God in this way, you will think about it deeply. If you are struggling because the church has treated you or someone you love po...

  "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness." — Lamentations 3:22-23 Some mornings, I wake up feeling weary before the day has even begun. The weight of yesterday’s struggles, the regrets, the unanswered prayers—they all seem to follow me into today. And yet, in the stillness of the morning, this truth rises with the sun: God’s mercies are new. Every. Single. Day. No matter how hard yesterday was, no matter how many times I stumbled, no matter how heavy my heart feels—God’s love remains steady. His mercies don’t run out. He doesn’t look at me and say, “That was your last chance.” Instead, He meets me in the morning with fresh grace, with an unshaken faithfulness that is bigger than my failures, my fears, and my worries. What Does It Mean That His Mercies Are New? Lamentations is a book of grief, written in the aftermath of Jerusalem’s destruction. The author, likely the prophet Jerem...