Prayers Blog Posts
Christmas, The Birth of Sacrificial Love
The Christmas story celebrates the birth of sacrificial love. Nevertheless, as celebrants, we tend to contaminate the purity of this season with unattainable expectations, expectations of: peaceful family gatherings, magazine worthy decor, “Bon Appetite” type food fare, and happy, grateful, tantrum-free children.
Fresh Blueberry Buckle Coffee Cake
Are you having company for Christmas morning brunch? Here’s a family favorite I borrowed from one of my sisters.
Mary, Full of Dismay and Fear, Mother of our Lord
I’ve been thinking about Mary, the mother of Jesus lately during this Advent season.
Old Fashioned Peanut Clusters
We’re invited to a Christmas party “sweet exchange” and are asked to bring two dozen sweets, one dozen to taste, and the other dozen to share for take-home! I was searching in my recipe cards for a family favorite and came upon my mother-in-law’s recipe for Crockpot Peanut Clusters. Yum!
Advent, One Step at a Time
My faith family is starting on our Christmas Advent journey. We are in transition from our daily routines, looking forward together to Jesus’ birthday.
Greens and Sausage Cream Soup, Olive Garden Knock-off
A Texas cold front blows in. The temperatures drop up to 40 degrees in one day. The local grocery stores run out of chili fixings. What’s a girl to do?
He Touched Me
All the Jingle Bell and Joy to the World advertisements shout that I’m supposed to be joyful this season, yet I find my idealistic heart grieving for losses, especially losses of family members, whether they’ve passed on or are just lost to me on this earth.
The Dance of Fall
After a Monday fall cool-down shower, I’m watching the dance of amber leaves and sun-kissed butterflies.
Green Beans and New Potatoes
Green beans and new potatoes are much preferred than the standard green bean casserole in our family. I think it’s because we don’t care for the canned soups.
I Want To Be Like an Old Book
As I’m obviously aging, I want to be like an old book whose value and beauty rest in its hombre edged faded pages, whose skin cover isn’t quite as vibrant and alluring as it once was, whose binding joining each consecutive chapter creaks and cracks when opened, and whose wisdom surfaces in washed out, underlined passages.