Love is not just a feeling, or a theory, or a nice word. It’s action—it’s the way you treat people…what you do for others. Love will always cost you something: time, energy, effort, money, giving up your pride, doing what’s right when you don’t feel like it, and keeping a good attitude when you don’t get your way.

Motherhood has a quiet way of exposing every fracture, every hidden fear, leaving you feeling as though you are always just shy of enough—especially when your daughter is a teenager. December, with its glittering promises of warmth and wonder, only sharpens the edges, turning small disagreements into storms and fleeting frustrations into waves of guilt. She presses against the boundaries of your patience, you push back in kind, and in the stillness, you recognize the reflecti

The holiday season is often wrapped in twinkling lights, cheerful music, and endless reminders to be merry. But beneath the sparkle, many hearts carry something deeper—grief, disappointment, longing, or loneliness. While the world tells us to choose joy, I’ve learned that sometimes, the most honest place we can stand during the holiday season is holding both joy and sorrow in the same hands.

Patience is a sacred surrender. Fall and winter are my favorite seasons of the year… nature’s invitation to slow down. But for caregivers, this quiet can feel more like uncertainty than rest. So much of caregiving is waiting for answers, for healing, for next steps we cannot see.

So why am I hooked on hectic? Why do I look for a sign to see whether this season is going my way? It’s as if I have this cookie-cutter idea of what I expect from the holiday, and if it’s a fraction of an inch different than my expectations, I moan and marvel at how it just doesn’t seem like the way I experienced it before. Goodness, how nostalgia can tempt and trap.

When I stopped chasing “perfect” holidays and leaned into the relentless love of Jesus, everything shifted. I realized I didn’t need to manufacture magical moments—I simply needed to abide in the One who is the source of joy and peace.

A shepherd pauses to listen intently for any strange sounds coming from the pasture. Slowly, he scans the far edges of the field for dangers lurking in the darkness. He’s not frightened; being a watchman is a normal part of protecting the flock. But tonight is not a normal night

The Lord displayed His grace by bringing these lives together: one with a broken heart, the other abused and homeless. He knows that in this life, we will go through trials and heartaches. But He promises, through Jesus, to deliver us out of them all in victory and with strength. His love is so great that He will reach out in answer to a simple prayer—even bringing an abandoned little dog to a man’s doorstep to help ease the pain of a loss.

There are sons and daughters, husbands and wives, grandchildren and loved ones who have lost their way in a dark and broken world. Confused and wounded, many are searching for refuge in all the wrong places—places that lead only to deeper pain and despair. Some turn to drugs, alcohol, or destructive relationships in a desperate attempt to fill the emptiness inside. Others chase identities that were never meant to define them, living in lifestyles that mask deeper wounds.

If you’ve ever felt unseen at the table, weighed down by the ache of rejection or the sting of family dysfunction, I want you to hear this truth from my heart to yours: God’s relentless love can heal what feels unhealable—and even more, it can restore generations.

We must lay what we’re carrying down at His feet and leave them there. Then there will be nothing to keep us from getting close to Jesus as we abide in Him. There is a woman in Scripture who shows us how she laid her burdens down so that she could abide, fully engaged, at the feet of Jesus. Let’s do Bible study!

Let’s just say it: nobody really prepares you for this season of motherhood. You know the one.  Where your daughter starts straddling the line between girlhood and womanhood, one minute  she’s asking you to braid her hair for church, and the next she’s shutting her door and asking for  “space.” 

So many tears. I never knew a person could cry as long or as often as I did in those first weeks after discovering my husband’s secret struggle with porn. The tears showed up without warning—in the shower, in the car, in the dark hours of the night when sleep wouldn’t come. I was sure the pain would stop once he fixed himself. After all, it was his fault we were in this mess. I told myself my healing would come when he finally got his act together.

There was a time in my life when I truly believed I had to do it all—and do it well—to be considered a “good” wife, mother, homemaker, and woman of God. Maybe it’s a firstborn thing, or maybe it’s just the weight of trying to live up to expectations I thought were mine to carry. But from an early age, I developed a pattern of pushing through, taking pride in my independence, and refusing to ask for help until I absolutely had to. And when I became a wife and then a mom—especi

I still remember the moment I had to face that question myself. It was my 43rd birthday, and I was in so much pain—physically, emotionally, spiritually. I had been struggling with chronic autoimmune diseases for over a decade, visiting specialist after specialist, while slowly watching my health, my relationships, and my joy fall apart. I was overweight, in constant pain, emotionally unstable, and spiritually weary. I had withdrawn from friendships. My marriage was strained.

Seeking the peace of Jesus amidst the storms of life is no easy task. Being intentional is key—but how can we focus on intentionally seeking His peace when we feel overwhelmed by everything life throws our way?

In the messy parts of caregiving, there are calls for opening up to a new way of caring. Compassion became my lifeline, and it can become yours, too.

After spending 30 years in the classroom and raising two children of my own, I've seen firsthand how phones can either help or harm a child's development. As an experienced educator with over 67,000 hours working with kids, I've learned something crucial: the "right age" for a phone isn't about age at all – it's about readiness. My mission is to help parents raise kids who are smarter than their smartphones.

Over these decades together, I've discovered that the secret sauce to marriage isn't winning arguments or proving who's right (though, let's face it, I certainly tried!), but individually abiding in Christ. Trust me, my natural instinct was to "fix" my husband—I had excellent plans—but God patiently reminded me that Rick wasn't a DIY project.

Domestic violence affects millions of individuals and families every year, transcending boundaries of age, gender, and socioeconomic status. The consequences are profound, leaving victims scarred emotionally and physically.