Inspiration Blog Posts
The peace lily pictured in this post is by Barbara Hamlin. Her friendship has been a long-time go-to pillar of peace that I return to as often as possible.
As with this rain adorned lily, peace is like sitting perfectly still on my back porch swing absorbing the ethereal beauty of my garden through the veil of rain.
Flowers are perfumed words. They send out messages spanning the emotional spectrum. For centuries, flowers have been gifted with the express intent to relay specific sentiments. This poetry of blooms is especially used during February, the month of love.
Joy is the second “fruit of the Spirit” as listed in Galatians 5:22. Joy is my own personal beam of sunshine, daily warming me through tribulation or the reprieve from thereof.
The first evidenced “harvest” of the Spirit in our lives is love (Galatians 5:22). It is a word so bandied about that we have tarnished its meaning with trivial connotations that contaminate its intended, lustrous sheen.
The featured image in this post is a painting by Dmitri Wright entitled, In the Quiet of this Moment, gifted to me by him in 1987. It daily reminds me to be quiet and listen to the still quiet voice inside of me.
Are you as tired as I am of the bombarding edicts to do this or that, to be this or that, and to become this or that at the dawn of each new year? I certainly am!
Prayers sometimes come to us in unexpected forms, especially when we don’t “feel” like praying and words aren’t happening.
In my work as an advocate for special needs students pursuing higher education, I’ve been reminded repeatedly that they are twice qualified. What does that mean?
Looking back on this last year, I’m still struggling with being thankful for situations and people whose tenacious grips keep me in a repetitive wrestling match. I want to break free and hear God’s blessing.
There’s nothing quite like a clear cold winter night out in the country. My hand stretched out one step in front of me is blanketed by velvety darkness. The dark is so dark that it is like a separate present companion, not just a state of atmosphere.
Christmas Eve conjures up stories of unique experiences whether warm fuzzy family traditions or hollow disappointments. I’ll share a childhood story that encompasses both.