How’s your hearing? Fine? No problems? Well, listen up. It may not be as good as you think. When I was a little girl (I don’t remember how old, probably five or six) a woman came to our house to visit my mother. Mom introduced me as her youngest daughter. The woman looked me over and said, “She looks like Hal doesn’t she.” Well, Hal is my very handsome older brother, so that should have been a compliment. But that’s not what my little ears heard. I thought she said, “She looks like h*** doesn’t she.” In case you don’t […]
Every family has its funny stories. You know, the stories we tell when everyone gets together for holidays or special occasions. I’m the subject of many of my family’s stories, but my kids are under threat of having to cook their own Christmas dinner if they tell them before my funeral. It won’t matter then, since I don’t plan on showing up for the occasion. One of our favorite family stories about their dad is an eight-year-old mystery we call, The Case of the Missing Money. It comes up every so often. We give a collective sigh and wonder what […]
Do you ever have thoughts that just don’t “jell?”
Many times I’ve agonized over a decision—thought it out until my head hurt—come to a conclusion—then second-guessed myself until my brain felt like mush.
God is not “high maintenance.”
He is not touchy—sulking and withdrawing from us when we don’t do exactly as He wishes.
Some people use this as a way to manipulate others. I’ve had a few friends like that. It always made me feel insecure, like I needed to do something to regain the offended person’s love and approval. It’s a way of controlling people. We don’t have to “tip toe” around God to stay in His good graces.
There’s something about the word “obedience” that has always made the muscles in my neck knot up. Why? Well, partly because obedience implies there are “rules” to be kept.
“Wow,” you say. “She must be a real rebel if the mere mention of rules sends her to the chiropractor.”
A couple of weeks ago my dear friend, Suzan Cartagena, shared the story of her long-time battle with depression. Today, I’d like to tell just a little of my own story.
When I was nine years old, my mother had a nervous breakdown. Perhaps it was me turning nine that aggravated her already fragile mental state.
What would that have to do with it?—you ask.
Are we willing to let God search us, examine us intimately, get all up in our space—in order to find out what’s making us sick? I imagine it’s mostly women reading my blog, but if you’re a man, you might want to skip a few lines.
My late husband and I traveled in the ministry for many years. He preached, and I played the piano for our country gospel duo. I played sanctified honky-tonk. My husband said I beat the piano to death.
Once we were ministering in a storefront church that was housed in one of those old rock buildings, typical of downtowns everywhere. We were staying with the pastor, who lived in an apartment above the store.
Do you know how tall those old buildings are? Well, this one seemed taller than most. Maybe I remember it that way because of the terror I still have when I think about what almost happened there.