The Waiting
We thought it would be easy. We didn’t plan for our first baby. She arrived, an unexpected gift, eleven days before our first anniversary. So, naturally, we thought having more kids would be quick and uncomplicated. But we waited, and the years passed. One miscarriage. Then another. Our girl grew older and noticed all the other kids with siblings. She was lonely, she said. She wanted a sister more than anything in the world. And the fire burned deep and I needed to know why, but no answer came. Just a seed of quiet acceptance that grew until the day we gave away the crib, the clothes, the toys. But without telling us, she kept praying, unaware of all the reasons why her heart’s desire wasn’t likely to be granted. If I had known how she prayed, I might have...
Read MoreCommon Grace
My daughter is always finding four-leaf clovers. I mean all the time. She has an eye for it, so much that it’s almost commonplace. At least to us. Each time she comes tearing into the house with another, she’s wild with excitement. “Can you believe we have so many four-leaf clovers? We must have the luckiest yard in the world!” Nothing in life is wasted on this child. “Mom! Come quick!” I rush out to the living room expecting chaos and destruction. Instead I find her, face squashed against smudged glass. “Isn’t that the pinkest, most breathtaking sunset you’ve ever seen, I mean like ever? I didn’t want you to miss a second of it!” And first thing every morning, rain or shine, she’s barefoot out on the deck. “I just have to breathe the air, Mom.” My little...
Read MoreYou’re Gonna Be Great!
It’s that season again, when the graduation announcements come rolling in. Another crop of scholars, fresh-faced and starry-eyed, ready to sweat in their caps and gowns while commencement speakers everywhere wax eloquent about the keys to success and notoriety. And then off they’ll go to celebrate. And some of them will go on to do what they had planned all along and to succeed at it. But many of them will have things happen that will knock them off course, change their paths little by little or all at once. And there may come a point down the road, when they hear of former classmates who have advanced in their fields and are receiving acclaim, that they pause, look at where they have landed and think, “I really could have been something.” I found myself in...
Read MoreSoft Targets
There was a time in this country, not so long ago, when airport security was a breeze, when bullies and mystery meat were school’s scariest possibilities, when no one thought twice about a misplaced backpack at a public event. For better or worse, those days are behind us. We live in a world awash in images of 9/11, Newtown, the Boston Marathon… We are awake to the reality that we have enemies, and those enemies want our destruction. They are merciless. Bloodshed and terror are their goal. Ignoring them, pretending they don’t exist won’t make them go away. They target our soft spots. Our fragile areas. Like a sweet faced eight-year-old boy waiting at the finish line to celebrate with his father. Why does terror so often target children? I believe it is for...
Read MoreA Royal Mess
We rolled in, dusty, hot, and weary, to speak at yet another church. I was twelve, and all I wanted to do was get on the plane and fly home to the Philippines, but we still had a month to go. Another long hallway decorated with Sunday school posters and a corkboard with our prayer card front and center… Another crowd of earnest, smiling, unfamiliar faces, eager to hear about the Lord’s work in other lands… By the time we reached the sanctuary, my attitude was bubbling with all the worst adolescence has to offer. The room was packed full – nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Arms crossed, I pressed myself against the nearest wall and willed myself to disappear like a chameleon. But one tiny, wrinkled, gray-crowned saint with poor eyesight and a huge grin made a...
Read MoreForgiveness Changes Everything
Natalia* was stunning in a flowing fuchsia gown, her silky blond hair curling over her shoulders. I had just shared my story at The Closet Ministry’s “Beautiful You”, an event where girls receive free prom dresses and makeovers. Natalia had won some music of mine and wanted me to sign the CD. While I stood there, pen in hand, the words began to pour out from the deep places inside her heart. “Friends” have spoken cruel words that cut deep, leaving rivers of lies that shape the landscape of this young girl’s whole life. So much pain, already. As hard as Natalia’s story is, it is not unique or even uncommon. I hear it echoed from the lips of broken-hearted teens, from grown women who have never forgotten and never quite healed. Sometimes the cruelty is much...
Read MoreWell, That Was Awkward
I am, perhaps, one of the most awkward people on the planet. I trip when I walk. I drop stuff. And my dancing is a thing of nightmares – just ask my children. But one of the worst things is my mouth. I talk too much and at inappropriate times, and my words come out tangled and wrong and sounding completely moronic. I’m still tempted to cringe over a party we attended a few weeks ago. Most of the people there were friends we hadn’t seen in several years, and life has changed a lot for all of us. I’m not sure what my problem was, exactly. I was tired; my guard was down. I was anxious for these old friends to see how much I’ve changed since God’s grace grabbed hold of me and shook me loose of my need for applause. (How’s that for irony?) Whatever the reason, I...
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