About

I am a a sinner saved by grace alone.  I am an empty nester, living a quiet and simple life with my husband in rural Virginia.  I enjoy reading, writing, coffee, and chocolate.

I am a former regular contributor at Out of the Ordinary. From 2006 - 2013, I blogged at Breath of Life.

 My doctrine is best summed up here.


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Cutting the Cord

Day 1:

Removed Instagram, Facebook, and the game from my phone. Deactivated Facebook so that I wouldn't be tempted to check it via browser. Delighted to find that Messenger still works; it's the feature I was most concerned about losing. Scrolled Twitter periodically, but since I reduced the number of accounts I follow it doesn't take long to see what I've missed.

Most notable difference was at home in the evening. Instead of checking out to play the game and catch up on social media feeds, I had three actual phone conversations and folded laundry. I read more before going to bed.

Confession: when I got online for a task, I quickly scrolled through Instagram.

Day 2:
Is it crazy to think I slept better because I didn't look at my phone for several hours before bedtime? Whatever the reason, I woke up feeling refreshed. I wasn't as rushed this morning as I usually am, probably because I didn't look at my phone until I received a text. Was able to have another p…
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to nurture & be nurtured

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I rarely click on Twitter threads, but this one caught my eye because its subject was a beloved show. And there in the middle was a question, Wouldn’t it be beautiful if we cared for one another as if we were all midwives? 

For weeks now I've been pondering the parallels between a midwife and a believer in Christ. The ladies at Nonnatus House are there for the best and worst of life. They care for expectant mothers and the least of these in their community. They offer genuine care and comfort during life's most precious and difficult moments. They hide their revulsion at the filth that so often surrounds them. They lend a handkerchief when needed, and are quick with their encouragement and humor. They tell hard truths with compassion, and cheer others on as they push through the pain.

What would the church look like if believers did that for each other? If we offered to come alongside our sisters as they grieve, suffer, and rejoice? If we quit worrying about not having the …
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hurt

The pain was deep, raw. As I told a friend, I felt as if I'd been gutted. I knew it wasn't intentional, but this knowledge didn't soften the blow. Because I carried on as usual I knew the other party wasn't aware of my feelings, but that was poor comfort.

I stewed. I grappled with the ugliness of my emotions. I sought counsel from others who were removed from the situation. I asked them to pray. I prayed. I carried the hurt around for a while. Finally, when I was too weary to carry it any longer or any further, I relented and asked God to carry it for me.

And He did.

As He gracefully circumcised my heart (Deut. 10:16), He fixed my gaze on His truth. He showed me that even in this, He is molding me.

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials,so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the …
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