My husband and I recently went to a NFL playoff game. I was a fair-weather Seattle Seahawks fan when I met Darren, but marrying him made me an all-weather fan—the kind of fan who drives 7-hours one-way to attend a playoff game in support of the visiting team. We were full of excitement at the opportunity to see “our” team and visit a new city, but I hadn’t thought much about what it would be like to stand as the “outsider” in the Atlanta Falcon’s Georgia Dome. We were not just outnumbered; we . . .
2009 was a year that really put things in perspective for my family. While we know there is no guarantee life will not be that hard again in the future, we look back with wonder at the fact that we survived all of the obstacles and pain those twelve months held. It was, for us, a terrible year. Was this past year hard like that for you, too? I'm over at iBelieve this week, offering some ideas for ways we can heal after a particularly difficult year. You can read the rest of this post by . . .
I never really did get into making New Year’s resolutions, presumably for the same reason I never collected anything as a kid: nothing ever caught on. I’d soon lose track of the resolutions I wrote, much like how I would save a couple of bottle caps, call it a collection, and then completely forget about it. So as you can imagine, the beginning of January is tough for me. I’ll often try to treat it just like any other month, but our culture doesn’t. Everywhere I turn, I’m faced with ads not . . .
“Dear God,” I would begin as I cozied up in the bed of my college dorm room, “Can you work one of your miracles and allow me to wake up weighing 30 pounds less?” My freshman year of college is when my struggles with body image really surfaced, and this was a very real prayer I would pray in response to my anxious disapproval of my appearance and the added weight I was carrying as a college newbie. Deep down, I knew my request was beyond ridiculous, but I believe in the miracles of God and . . .
Merry Christmas a little late! Happy New Year a little early! It's that somewhat awkward week between holidays, when the days seem to run together; some of us continue our vacation and others of us go to work in body while still vacationing in mind. I'm doing a little bit of work, a little bit of rest, and a little bit of dreaming & scheming for this next year. I am feeling the anticipation of a fresh new year while consciously trying not to overload myself with grand plans and to-do's . . .
It was December 1, 2001: I was 17 years old and halfway through my senior year of high school. Late that morning, I slowly made my way downstairs to the main floor of our home, soon noticing some newly hung decorations at the bottom of the stairs. They were three wreaths, each decorated with twenty-five small bags of candy. I knew these decorations well—they have somewhat magically appeared on every December 1st of every year in my memory. I shouldn’t have felt so surprised to see them on . . .