life. faithful.

 Most families have a few names they would prefer be left out of the family tree. You know the ones--the relatives who aren't really talked about without a knowing look and a slight disapproving shake of the head. When you talk about your ancestors, the people who have made your family what it is, these are the people you leave out of the story--the scoundrels, the trouble makers, the ones people aren't proud of. But God. There's a family tree in Matthew that doesn't look like we would expect it to. It's easy to skip over all the "begat"s in the Scriptures, but they're in there for a reason. In this case, the genealogy of Yeshua shows us a lot about God. Lots of the names are ones you would expect in the lineage of the Jewish Messiah: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, King David. Some of them, though, are the names of people most of us would leave out when telling about our ancestors. Tamar dressed up as a prostitute to trick her father-in-law into getting her pr

 Israel was in a dark place. They were 1,000 years removed from King David. They had seen their kingdom divided, then absolutely crushed by the Assyrians. The ten tribes of the northern kingdom had been scattered and sent out as exiles. Almost 600 years had passed since they saw Jerusalem captured and Solomon's Temple destroyed by Babylon. They had seen their best and brightest carried off to Babylon to serve in the court of King Nebuchadnezzar. They had been promised a savior, but instead they had seen one conqueror after another come in and crush Jerusalem under his heel. They had been mistreated and scattered. It had been centuries since they had been sent a prophet of God, and their last prophets--Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel...--hadn't had a whole lot of happy news for them. Through it all, though, they had Isaiah's words to cling to. It was a message of a Savior, the One who would be called Mighty God, Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace. They were promised One who woul

 Grief is such a crazy, unexpected thing. It hit me Saturday while I was driving, headed into town. I was thinking of what I needed to pick up, wondering if I needed to take anything to church the next day for our annual Christmas decorating day. We stay after the service, put up decorations, and spend time hanging out together and eating. All of a sudden I realized what the date was--December 5th. That meant the next day was the 6th, which meant it was my brother's birthday. Not just any birthday, either. This year marked 40 years since the day my parents welcomed their first child into this world, a long and skinny baby boy. In that moment, I realized that it was the day I should have been able to call my big brother and make fun of him for being "old" and turning 40. It was the day I should have been planning to make sure he got all sorts of "over the hill" memorabilia, the day I should have been poking fun at the fact that I still have a whopping 4 years bef

  Sometimes, being a mom is amazing. Other times, it's a hard, lonely, miserable mess. All the time, it's a jumble of emotions all tangled together, each one fighting for dominance. It's humbling and heartbreaking and awe inspiring and incredible. There are days when I think I'm doing a good job, days when the laundry is caught up, everybody likes what's for supper (with 7 of us, that's quite a thing), and people are smiling and laughing and having fun together. Those days make me feel like I know what I'm doing, which is nice since I'm 14 years into this "mom" thing. The good ones are the ones when I get glimpses of who my kids are growing up to be, when I think that maybe I'm not doing too bad at this whole motherhood business. Other days, there are piles of laundry overflowing the baskets or a load that gets forgotten in the washing machine and somehow smells like a wet dog. Those days are usually the ones when the brothers are fighting

 We've been pretty familiar with storms in our household lately. I don't mean the thunder and lightning, wind and rain types of storms (though here in the Arkansas Ozarks, those are pretty common, too). I mean the types of storms that come from doing this whole "life" thing with a group of little people who are in that hard place of turning into big people while learning the hard lessons of what it means to be family, to grow up, and to just be human. Lately we've had some mornings that have made me want to crawl back in bed and pull the covers up over my head. They haven't been big storms, as far as storms go. They aren't the kind of storms that have us hanging on for dear life, thinking we're about to go under. They are just the ones that seem to last so much longer than you ever thought possible, storms that drag on for so long that you start thinking you're going to give out, that even though the pressure isn't that intense you just can'

 They wanted a Messiah. They wanted him to come as a mighty conqueror, one who would drive everyone else out of Israel. They wanted a warrior to come in and wipe out the enemy, the mighty "Lion of Judah" who would have the whole world trembling at his roar. They wanted someone to step in and stake his claim as King over the whole world, someone who would intimidate most and defeat anyone who dared stand against Israel. They wanted the one who would usher in the end of the world as we know it, the one who would raise Israel up above all other nations. They wanted a Messiah who would come in as a strong political and military leader, someone who would subdue the entire earth under his heel. They wanted a Messiah they could rule alongside of, someone who would make them powerful by association. We want a very different Messiah today. We want him to come in as someone who is all warm and fuzzy, someone who just loves us no matter what and doesn't demand any changes. We want h

 Dear God, We're told in Romans, " We are weak and do not know how to pray, so the Spirit steps in and articulates prayers for us with groaning too profound for words." (8:26) Right now, that's where I am. I think it's where so many of us here in the United States are, because right now our country is anything but "United." The division and hatred is wounding so many hearts and causing so many rifts. The most horrific part of it all, though, is not the fact that our country is divided--that's something that has been coming for a long time. The worst part is how those of us who call ourselves Your children are divided. God, You are holy and just and perfect in Your love. You know we are weak--after all, You created the dust from which You created us. You know our lives here are nothing more than a breath, and You know how much we mess up. Despite it all, You love us. Somehow, for some awesome reason I can't wrap my mind around, You love us. You

 I've put this post off for a long time, mostly because I'm having a hard time figuring out just what to say. Partly, though, it's because I don't like confrontation and I don't like upsetting people. To be honest, I may have waited too long seeing as how election day is on Tuesday... and I'm writing this on Saturday. For some reason it's become taboo to say, but I truly believe we live in a great nation. Well, we inherited one, at least. Those who founded the United States did so by declaring their independence from any other country while simultaneously declaring their full dependence on God, the One they referred to when they wrote, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights..." Right now, we are facing an election that will determine the future of our nation. I have to admit, what I've been seeing lately has me pretty well convinced that

 I've never been a people person, but I've always been a people pleaser. I don't like not being liked, which is probably the biggest reason it's hard for me every time I click the "Publish" button and put my writing out there to be judged. My writing feels like so much a part of me that if anyone has anything negative to say about it, I feel like that is a blow to me. When I released my first book, the review that stands out in my mind said, "too long winded and boring." There were good reviews, but those words are seared in my brain and come back to mind almost every time I try to put pen to paper. Here's the crazy thing, though--the people who mean the most to me, the ones I have the most respect for? They don't hold back when they talk to me. They call me on the things I'm doing wrong, they tell me when I've messed up, and they don't let me just gloss over the bad parts. When I think about them, though, it's not the harsh w

 For a while, there was a group of bloggers who talked a lot about "God sized dreams." The idea was a good one--we serve a big God, so why shouldn't we have big dreams? It seemed like an obvious connection, especially to me. At the time, I was searching for what my future should be. I had started teaching, but I was drowning in my first year (an incredibly common thing, but that didn't make it any easier at the time). I was debating graduate school... then deeply entrenched in grad school... then changing programs... then teaching again... The list could go on, as I'm sure it could for you. The main thing, though, was that I was absolutely convinced that if I believed in a big God, I needed to have a big dream. After all, as God's people we're called to live out His plan for our life, right? That same topic has come up again lately for me. I listen to Dr. David Jeremiah's radio show on my way to work in the mornings, and lately he's been talking ab

 I have to admit, I'm just about ready to run away and hide from everything and everyone. I've never seen the world like it is right now, and I'm just plain tired of it. I'm tired of the name calling and hateful rhetoric being spewed out. It seems no one knows how to have a respectful conversation anymore. If you disagree, the only way to get your point across is to yell and scream and point fingers and accuse the other person of being a horrible human being. Though I find myself scrolling through facebook a lot (maybe because of it), I think social media is probably the main catalyst for how people treat one another. It's so easy to say atrocious things to someone through a computer screen--when you don't have to look someone in the eye after you say horrible things, you don't have to actually consider how your hateful words affected them, right? And when you read words on a screen, with no tone of voice or true context or visual cues, it's so incredibl

 There's a common theme I've seen popping up in social media lately--lots of talk of the rapture. I see people worried about the things that are happening in the world around us, seeing the mess as a sign of the end times. Honestly, I see the same thing. I look at the wars and diseases and the blatantly evil things that are being called "good" and I see what Jesus described as the beginning of labor pains. It's right there that people like to turn to two verses from Paul: "Behold, I tell you a mystery: We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed--in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. Fort the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed." ~1 Corinthians 15:51-52 "For you yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so comes as a thief in the night." ~1 Thessalonians 5:2 As is so often the case, though, we get ourselves into trouble when we handpick verses and don

There's beauty in every season, but I think fall is my favorite. Maybe it's the foggy mornings, the clouds hanging low in the hills, making them look like islands floating in a white sea.   Maybe it's the spider webs sparkling in the field in the morning, tiny threads so delicately spread across the grass. Maybe it's the first hint of cool weather, when you're greeted by crisp mornings that pair perfectly with steaming coffee and a front porch swing. Maybe it's because I like the reminder that God uses brokenness. I think fall is His way of showing us that there is beauty in letting go. As the leaves change colors, it's Him whispering, "There is beauty in the endings, too." The greens give way to reds, golds, oranges, and browns as His creation seems to slow just a bit. The leaves fall to the ground and the branches are left bear, stretching--empty--up to the sky. With that, God tells us to bring Him our brokenness, our emptiness, when eve

Sometimes I search for something to write. Other times, though, it seems like a topic is dumped on my lap, even if it's something I've been trying to avoid. Today is one of those times. I guess a more apt description would be "shoved in my face," because that's what's happening right now. Right now, that's the division over masks and government mandates pertaining to this virus. I'll be honest--I have friends and family on both sides of the issue. I see and hear arguments on both sides, which normally wouldn't be a bad thing. Normally, I appreciate a good debate. I think I must get that from Pop, because he's been known to play "devil's advocate" on more than one occasion. I love learning something new, and you don't ever get to do that solely by watching, reading, and listening to the people you already agree with. New things are learned by putting yourself into a place of slight discomfort, a place where you acknowledge tha

To the teen girl, trying to find her "people": Oh my goodness, sometimes this "friendship" thing seems hard. Sometimes you feel like you don't really have anybody you connect with--the people around just don't really seem to want you around, or you've found out that you've outgrown the friends you used to have so much in common with. You look at your childhood friends and realize that as you've started to grow up, you've started to grow apart. The teenage years are far from easy. You're in a body that has become foreign to you, dealing with a mind that seems to have become your enemy at times, and prisoner to hormones that definitely don't seem to have your best interests at heart. You feel like you don't fit anywhere--at school, at home, or in your own body. But can I tell you something? You're not supposed to fit right now. You're in that in between, the time when you're not a little girl anymore but you are

Israel had been warned, time and time again. They had been given so many chances to turn away from all the wrong they had been doing and to return to God and His purpose for them. Over and over again, though, they refused. The leaders, priests, and prophets kept lying to the people, telling them that everything was fine. Instead of pointing out where Israel was falling short and showing them what needed to change, they overlooked all the shortcomings. Instead of guiding them back to the right path, they pretended like the people didn't have anything to be worried about. "They never warned and exposed you to correct your wicked ways so that things would go well again with no captivity. Instead, they told divine oracles of lies and deceit, that everything was fine." Lamentations 2:14 Lamentations isn't a fun book to read. Right now, especially--because as I read through these 5 chapters I keep seeing glimpses of the United States. If I'm being honest, they seem