tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21617899473895544862012-01-29T16:57:12.140-06:00A Christian devotional to give you encouragement as you start each week.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.comBlogger1561100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-36995950381908881872012-01-22T22:10:00.004-06:002012-01-23T00:21:22.021-06:00

My church is kneeling alongside many others in the State of Louisiana, all knocking on heaven's door, petitioning God, crying out for revival. Twenty-one days of fasting and prayer.In whispers, in loud voices, we come together in unity and ask for God's revival to come to our State. Yet, in the still silence of my prayer closet, I have admitted to my heavenly Father what He already knows anyway

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-36193964145863421412012-01-15T21:18:00.008-06:002012-01-15T22:44:35.337-06:00

One hand held the morning's three Cheerio cups, yesterday's mail, my Bible study book, a few crumpled church bulletins from under the seat, and the empty purple lunch pail. The other gripped handles of as many grocery bags as I could heft without dropping the house keys. With no hands left, I stuffed my winter coat under my left arm and my cell phone in my mouth before starting a lop-sided

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-13388972590734587212012-01-08T21:52:00.003-06:002012-01-08T23:00:42.737-06:00

Fear can be destructive, distracting, or (worse) debilitating. For those in Christ, faith is the antidote to a life of fear. Yet, as with many things in Scripture, the concept of fear isn't easy to pigeonhole as being all bad.Before the holidays and the Advent series here, I was well-mired in Ezra and Nehemiah, two prophets God called to rebuild the temple and Jerusalem's wall after the Jews

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-55897196285847208762012-01-01T21:17:00.005-06:002012-01-01T22:24:24.215-06:00

The·ol·o·gy. The study of God. Of faith. Of religion.Not for you? Don't be so sure.It's easy to brush aside lack of knowledge about God and Scripture by saying, "Well, I'm not a theologian. Theology and big words like that are for professors. Besides, God doesn't expect me to understand all that hard stuff anyway." Sorry. That couldn't be further from the truth.For others of us, it's the

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-84556947403014717472011-12-26T09:39:00.003-06:002011-12-26T09:51:49.268-06:00

This morning after Christmas, I feel a bit like my preschoolers when their Uncle Johnathan comes home after months of anticipating his arrival, all of my little ones running around shouting, "He's here! He's here!"For many of you, the excitement is over, maybe even exhaustion has set in, or perhaps even a bit of depression from the sudden drop in adrenaline and things to "do." Wrapping paper is

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-82183316602955871802011-12-18T23:00:00.007-06:002011-12-19T00:22:32.115-06:00

It's here, that final sprint towards the finish line, golden ribbon coming in sight near the horizon, beckoning us to hurry, hurry, hurry faster through the not-enough-hours-in-the-day burst towards Christmas Day.It always surprises me, this week.Even when I choose to make my Christmas smaller, focus on the fewer more meaningful traditions, do tasks earlier, make my gift giving smaller and an

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-6447864079861550272011-12-11T22:09:00.006-06:002011-12-11T22:54:06.559-06:00

The darkness ripples, its inky black turning a lighter hue of grey morning right before golden orb crests and spills life awash over everything it touches.Such is what happens this night, the third week of Advent. Third purple candle ignites, the three together strong enough to cast a mixture of light and shadow on all the faces surrounding it. The darkness shies away, knowing what is coming...

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-83258179885050270632011-12-04T21:35:00.006-06:002011-12-04T22:39:42.559-06:00

“Hopelessly lost” is a good adjective to describe me, not just in a spiritual sense but in a physical one as well. When God was assembling my double helix, He left out the genetic code that would give me a sense of direction. North, south, east, west—don’t ask me. Instead, I attempt to drive by landmarks—the house with the “Quilts for Sale” sign out front, the farm where sheep used to graze

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-46415547143782036432011-11-27T20:50:00.004-06:002011-11-27T22:04:20.583-06:00

This evening marks the first Sunday of advent, the season when we Christians pause in concert to remember the sacrifice a King made when He chose to enshroud himself in the flesh of a newborn babe.After sundown, Husband, the children, and I gathered still unsure stomachs around small cups of soup and cornbread to light the first of the long purple tapers.As husband searched for the matches, I

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-45568587087471800742011-11-22T21:47:00.003-06:002011-11-22T21:54:15.038-06:00

In the midst of the turkey and cranberries, family stories and laughter, remember to raise your voice in thanks to the One who provides the very breath of life, itself.Wherever God may have placed you for this Thanksgiving season, from our very frigid family to yours, I wish you a blessed Thanksgiving.Photo: My three heat-loving Louisiana children sitting on Grandma's blazing hearth in Michigan.

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-59724596954207929112011-11-20T21:50:00.004-06:002011-11-20T22:18:50.753-06:00

The sounds of my oldest son cradling the porcelain toilet in our hotel room woke me from a deep sleep. The clock read a few minutes past 2:00 am, and I sent upwards a prayer for this to be just a one-time incident, perhaps our late on-the-road supper just not quite agreeing with his always-tender stomach.A quick, warm bath and no PJs, I sent Wyatt back to his makeshift bed and snuggled myself

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-32920579185179303452011-11-13T22:11:00.005-06:002011-11-13T23:46:17.889-06:00

I've always heard that holidays are the hardest on those left behind, their loved ones' absence creating a conspicuous void at any festive gathering.Although most of my loved ones are still on this side of the great divide, the miles between us will find my family scattered like bright points on a map for Thanksgiving Day. My parents will be out of state with my dad's family; my brother will be

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-85280248106964603792011-11-06T21:55:00.006-06:002011-11-06T22:01:40.077-06:00

Moving from green beans to corn, from yams to Stove Top stuffing, I take a box and add it to my pie crust mix, my frozen turkey. Just a few extra items added to my regular grocery run. Not enough to change the world by myself. But enough to give one needy family a well-rounded Thanksgiving meal.We have entered the season of helping others. And yet a recent survey states “of the nation's 400

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-42212772286776837962011-10-30T21:26:00.007-05:002011-10-30T23:53:42.552-05:00

Thanksgiving came and went before I got the news my teaching contract would not be renewed for the Spring semester. Two week's notice was like a death sentence in the education industry where teachers are mainly hired in August with the occasional January opening.Yet, in what seemed to be a God-placed newspaper advertisement, a local community college had an opening for an English teacher like

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-86724748318542504862011-10-23T22:05:00.005-05:002011-10-24T00:04:39.811-05:00

I tend to think of guilt as a bad thing. And sometimes, it is.But guilt is also a blessing. You heard me right--guilt can be a blessing.In the Old Testament, the concept of guilt is tied inextricably tied to the word sin. For instance, when God judges Cain for killing his brother, Cain says, "Cain said to the LORD, “My punishment is too great to bear!" (Gen. 4:13). Here, the word "punishment"

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-30899975636445404452011-10-17T20:10:00.002-05:002011-10-17T20:14:30.119-05:00

“How do they dress?” I had asked my sister in law. Even though we coming to her and my brother’s home for vacation, a weekend stay-over meant we would be worshipping with them at their church. My concern wasn’t making three toddlers be quiet in church service; it was not sticking out like a roadside daisy in a well-manicured bed of hybrid tea roses.I needn’t have worried.Two pews in front of us

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-67680147240515284702011-10-09T23:00:00.005-05:002011-10-10T00:51:31.151-05:00

In life before children, I would get up each day and dress for work, eat my breakfast bar, choke down my 8 oz. of OJ, and kneel at the kitchen table with my prayer journal before me. In the evening, I would sit in bed with my Bible study open on my lap and pray with the rhythmic sounds of husband's breathing or cats' purring.Since becoming a mother of twins, however, one of the biggest

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-84165082848375026162011-10-02T21:06:00.005-05:002011-10-02T23:37:21.159-05:00

A people group is defined by its shared language, customs, practices, rules, heritage, etc.* According to one study, there are 11,627 people groups worldwide, or approximately 6.8 billion people.Of these people groups, 58% (or 6,750) are labelled unreached, meaning less than 2% of the group's population are professing evangelical Christians. Another 32% of these people groups (or 3,684) are

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-62989891887509694882011-09-25T22:08:00.005-05:002011-09-25T23:51:24.048-05:00

Husband's hands look relatively good, small red blisters beneath tough outer callouses revealing the struggle within between virus and body. His feet? Much worse, too disgusting to look at, much less photograph. The fever of hand, foot, and mouth disease now past, he hobbles around like an arthritic old man in obvious pain, all ten toes coated on top, between, and on the pads below with dozens

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-62939892709763167212011-09-18T23:02:00.002-05:002011-09-18T23:08:56.345-05:00

It is this evening when my mind thinks on the apostle John when he was exiled on the Isle of Patmos. On this Sabbath, my heart has not resembled his, in the spirit, to receive such a marvelous revelation from God of Christ's kingdom. How long had he been in exile, alone among thieves and murderers? How often had he been hungry? Sick? And yet, he was in the spirit. I sit ashamed, after not

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-90416030949337377842011-09-11T22:21:00.004-05:002011-09-29T13:57:30.692-05:00

Two years ago, my church sat one last time in the gymnasium, its blue plush chairs lined in rigid rows before the altar. While we sat together in body, we were divided in spirit by a rift so wide, I wondered how long it had been silently growing. Where one church gathered, at night's end, two churches went their separate ways. My heart bowed with my head as I listened to sounds of feet

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-59791098210437164092011-09-04T20:42:00.005-05:002011-09-04T22:33:49.999-05:00

My daughter sits in the top of the buggy, hands reaching out for whatever is in arm's reach, all while singing at the top of her lungs. At almost three, Amelia has trouble distinguishing between what is an outside versus an inside voice. This time is no different. As I run fingers down book spines, quickly searching the stacks at our favorite thrift store, I listen, trying to make out the

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-31099307156587680682011-08-28T20:48:00.007-05:002011-08-28T23:20:57.837-05:00

Down at my in-law's house, the talk is serious against a background of giggling children, heaping plates of made-from-scratch chicken pot pie, and a classic episode of Winnie the Pooh. I sit on the brick ledge by the fireplace, listening as my father in law talks farm news hot off the wire--of hay prices, fertilizer, and the widespread effect on the larger economy, of livestock auctions taking

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-77589319830815388622011-08-21T21:18:00.008-05:002011-08-22T00:11:19.867-05:00

I did not grow up in a broken home. In fact, my family life was extremely solid by today's standards. Yet, even with both my mother and father lovingly raising me together, I was still impacted by brokenness caused by divorce. When I was too young to remember, my aunt and her husband divorced. In that blurry pasture of early memories mixed together without order or connection to linear time,

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-71491333937706965532011-08-14T23:44:00.005-05:002011-08-21T21:10:14.497-05:00

This weekend, my "Oh! THIS is why I married him!!" husband has gone beyond the call of duty and taken complete care of our three energetic preschoolers while I've nursed a head cold. Actually, the nursing part isn't quite accurate since the word implies I was doing something to help my situation, which I wasn't, unless crashing, sleeping, and staying out of the way counts. Tonight was to be

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-19796576162222618452011-08-07T20:30:00.004-05:002011-08-07T22:54:45.179-05:00

In The Blood Covenant, Clay Trumbull (a late 1800s clergyman) explores the concept of covenant, a binding agreement, and how it permeates cultures around the globe, even those not reached by modern Christianity. No matter how remote the culture, each one he encountered in his studies demonstrated understanding of the solemnity of "cutting covenant" with another.From the darkest heart of the

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-4865959413977484222011-07-31T17:53:00.007-05:002011-07-31T20:12:05.208-05:00

A couple weekends ago, my mother-in-law and I attended a wedding of a family friend. While the ceremony, itself, was sparsely decorated with a simple arch and a few pre-lit candelabras, the reception hall was quite extravagant. I can't even begin to guess how many man hours went into creating the decorations and cooking all that food.In the middle of the hall was an open-air arbor that

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-47771690761302585052011-07-24T21:27:00.012-05:002011-07-24T23:46:15.835-05:00

A child of the Cold War era, I watched many a movie where the bad guys were either Soviet spies or German Nazis. My childhood was pasted with images of my father turning the dial on the television to the nightly news programs, loud male voices speaking of the nuclear buildup threat in Communist Soviet Union. Back then, the word "Communist" incited fear, much like the word "terrorist" does today.

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-10532065618926017212011-07-17T16:47:00.008-05:002011-07-17T23:33:05.311-05:00

Although it seems like another lifetime ago, I remember the advent of reality television, when shows like American Choppers or The Bachelor were the exception rather than the rule. As a people-watcher by nature, I was captivated by the first four seasons of Survivor, which presented a snapshot of society's inner workings, albeit in its own hyper-edited way. Even though the two tribes were

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-74915218505651118522011-07-10T22:30:00.004-05:002011-07-11T00:24:20.960-05:00

Contracts can't happen unless there is a meeting of the minds.I've heard this statement repeated time and again on my daily in-flight treadmill exercise entertainment-The People's Court. Between this show, typing up briefs for husband during law school, and listening to him discuss issues with other friends still in the legal profession, I know just about enough to be dangerous when it comes to

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-52969740271305184312011-07-03T22:02:00.008-05:002011-07-05T22:16:30.486-05:00

Husband and I spotted half a rainbow yesterday evening, its predictable array of colors near invisible as it shimmered and faded against already dusky-bright skies of a setting sun. From our standpoint, its arc seemed to end behind the local Wal-mart, a fact that led to much joking about the pot of gold being inside a store we prefer to avoid.Behind the laughter, though, our hearts are always

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-36029996106246630102011-06-26T20:41:00.004-05:002011-06-26T22:46:52.552-05:00

Sometimes, it's the simple light bulb moments that pierce me the most. Not the mind-bending time spent in Greek and Hebrew dictionaries or in commentaries heavy enough to break a toe--nothing that could be considered an intellectual pursuit of things too amazing for me know.Just me, a quiet moment, and the Word.I get lost in the familiarity of stories I have known for so long that I don't

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-86718060222600052002011-06-19T20:59:00.004-05:002011-06-19T21:57:55.060-05:00

Sunday, many of us thanked God for an earthly example of His Fatherly love. Unlike some, I was blessed to grow up in a home where I never doubted that both my earthly and heavenly fathers loved me completely. My “daddy” and I still spend time together each week; he knows the depth of my love for him, so Father’s Day has never seemed like a big deal. But yesterday seemed different to both

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-82032131962727208832011-06-12T20:51:00.007-05:002011-06-12T23:14:02.588-05:00

It's a verse to live by: "And my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus " (Phil. 4:19). As Christians, we believe this. So, our prayers are filled with what we need...and we want that need met, now please.But a God who is Sovereign, Omniscient, who knows every need before we even know it--why does He wait until we identify a need, a lack before He

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-41152961778756971822011-06-05T23:10:00.006-05:002011-06-06T18:16:47.082-05:00

It has been a l-o-n-g spring of warning my children to not touch the fifty-five gladiolus bulbs stretching the full length of the front porch. Up and down the concrete, the three ride their tricycles and bicycle, often crashing into each other or backing to the very edge, barely missing the two-foot plants shooting straight up out of the earth six inches away. I know, I know...what was I thinking

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-83875167452437826122011-05-30T23:09:00.004-05:002011-05-30T23:21:23.863-05:00

For the last week, I’ve held one foot in Genesis 11, while the other foot of my compass has explored connections in other parts of the Word, all part of Lyla’s challenge at A Different Story to camp on a certain passage of Scripture for seven days.My eyes have sparkled more in excited revelation than they have in the last month, me literally running for the phone to call my mother with what I’ve

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-71815602789212747512011-05-22T21:28:00.008-05:002011-05-23T10:21:30.410-05:00

Earlier in the week, my oldest son asked if we could go to the moon. I smile tight, wishing I still believed such wild dreams and reality could collide. Today, he's reaching higher, beyond sun, moon, and stars.With the loss of his "friend" kitten last Thursday, Wyatt has turned to asking if he can go to heaven to "visit Micah." At four and a half, his question actually makes a lot of sense. The

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-6075277759871821522011-05-15T20:33:00.003-05:002011-05-15T22:45:12.055-05:00

Whether you are a stay-at-home mother, a farmer, or a tax attorney in April, it is easy to become so busy with living and doing that you lose your focus. For the past three months, I've been studying the book of Revelation and keep coming back to the seven letters to the seven churches in chapter two where many of the churches seem to have lost their focus, for one reason or another.Like a good

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-45244010166947454332011-05-08T20:41:00.007-05:002011-05-08T23:00:14.643-05:00

Mother's Day is over...right?Good. I've been holding my breath all day, but now I can say it.It doesn't matter how good a mother you are...you still cannot be everything that your child needs.There's little doubt that each year when Mother's Day rolls around, I'll hear or read an admonishment for mothers to strive harder in Christ because they hold the most positive influence over their child

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-66845824330264697592011-05-01T21:51:00.004-05:002011-05-01T22:15:41.194-05:00

What if every person in the church wrote out his testimony and compiled them together into a book for future generations, a time capsule of faith bound in paper? I presented the idea to our church’s scrapbooking queen, hoping she would find the idea as exciting as I did. As we spoke, she stated that encouraging people to actually write out that testimony would be the hard part. Then, she did

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-6487444749785434202011-04-24T17:50:00.013-05:002011-04-24T20:06:55.461-05:00

They each wanted to touch Him, chubby fingers possessively grasping molded legs and outstretched hands, eyes studying His bearded face. Even without being told, they all knew this, this was Jesus.When all three had held Him, they crowded around to watch as I lay Jesus in the tomb, then rolled the stone firmly over the entrance. There, the children listened to my warning. Each solemnly nodded

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-82685680688938726752011-04-17T18:17:00.009-05:002011-04-17T20:10:53.227-05:00

The cross is well-recognized among Christians as a symbol of God's sacrifice, His mercy, His grace, and atonement for mankind's sin. While it may not seem like it during other times of the year, come Easter, the cross suddenly becomes mass marketable in every corner drugstore and grocery market. Right next to the band aid aisle, those two intersecting lines appear on everything from shrink

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-7886795848416683702011-04-10T21:33:00.008-05:002011-04-11T20:45:21.468-05:00

On air for over thirty years, Mister Rogers' Neighborhood has become a classic of sorts, embedding itself deep in the memory of several generations of children--the mechanical trolley clanging as it moved around the track, the striped tiger and royal king puppets. Then, there was the song he sang: "It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood, A beautiful day for a neighbor, Would you be mine?

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-67043077716922697102011-04-03T20:40:00.008-05:002011-04-05T13:30:10.832-05:00

I remember the first time I knew that I didn't know anything.It was the fall semester of my second year of college, and I was becoming fast friends with a young man named Hunter whose depth of thought intrigued me. In hour after hour of lofty conversation between classes, I learned to think beyond the parameters of what was considered normal and, instead, to contemplate philosophies and critical

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-38785678346364176132011-03-27T20:45:00.007-05:002011-03-27T22:42:29.472-05:00

Their laughter rings out several stores ahead of me, echoes reverberating around the dome-like ceiling of our local mall. It's Friday night, and I'm in the minority--one who isn't a teenager or the parent of a teenager.As I walk to meet my husband for dinner, I weave around clumps of adolescents who act like logjams in a steadily flowing river.This clump ahead of me is more animated than most.

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-16213404924234079852011-03-20T20:45:00.005-05:002011-03-21T21:45:54.068-05:00

Eight years of teaching in the classroom, presenting face-to-face lectures and holding one-on-one student/teacher conferences didn't require me to choose my words half as carefully as now when I teach solely online.As one whose classroom is located not within any four literal walls but in the unconfined realm of cyberspace, it's ironic that I now must more carefully counsel my students in how

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-15480584774233442282011-03-13T23:05:00.006-05:002011-03-13T23:14:27.444-05:00

The death toll was 48 yesterday morning when I went outside to work in the yard. By this morning when I went to worship, it was thousands. Now in the quiet of evening, it's more than 10,000...but officials expect that number to spiral upwards as the word "missing" is replaced with "dead." One article stated, "In one town alone, only 15,000 out of 75,000 were able to evacuate; the rest remain

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-5942902923451250632011-03-06T20:26:00.006-06:002011-03-06T21:19:38.292-06:00

If you haven't been bombarded yet with "Go Green" advertisements explaining how you can do your part to save planet earth for the next generation, you will be. It's a little over a month and a half away--Earth Day 2011. As one who lives pretty close to the land on our family's hay farm, it's not an important day circled in red on my calendar. But, it's been on my mind lately, perhaps because

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-91161324292920068112011-02-27T14:54:00.013-06:002011-03-04T16:18:40.993-06:00

I grew up in in a time when "Choose Your Own Adventure" books were all the rage. These classic books allowed the reader to make key decisions at various points throughout the plot, all of which ultimately determined the outcome of the book.Enter the submarine? Turn to page 21. Go back to the train station? Turn to page 40.What kept children interested were the dozens of destinies that lay within

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-15204390801979778452011-02-20T20:22:00.011-06:002011-02-20T22:25:53.953-06:00

We hadn't really talked in a long time, but his first words spoke of needed prayer--for him, his wife, his children.I try only to use the word "prayed" when telling others of my prayers for them, mainly because I'm afraid I will forget to pray if I change the verb tense to "will pray"...and I don't want my prayer life to be a forgotten lie.This time, though, I said I "would pray", and afterwards,

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-30461655356015258832011-02-13T20:19:00.005-06:002011-02-13T21:40:50.184-06:00

Six little people are strewn across the living room rug. In the main hall sits a plastic feast of purple grapes, bumpy corn, and assorted cookies, all to be consumed by the plush birds seated around the plates. Beside the kitchen table lay a dozen or more unstacked books, one left open in mid-story.I've already de-cluttered these three rooms today. I know I did. But it always seems that as

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-30064914100771318412011-02-06T19:16:00.004-06:002011-02-06T20:20:31.530-06:00

I have become almost immune to the doom and gloom prophets of our day. One comes on TV, and I unconsciously roll my eyes, grimace, and click the remote to another channel.I don't think I am the only one either.Perhaps it's that hearts are being hardened. Or perhaps it's that so many of us have lived past several dates on the calendar when some now has-been said the world would end.Remember Y2K

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-25534246546348438102011-01-30T18:25:00.004-06:002011-01-30T19:56:53.408-06:00

When trying to stop smoking, some people throw out all their smoking paraphernalia...except for those few "just in case" cigarettes or a favorite lighter hidden in the back of a drawer.After successfully losing weight and buying a wardrobe of smaller-sized clothes, others keep around those larger clothes, pushing them to the back of the closet "just in case" the pounds return.However, without a

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-54686863404200607492011-01-23T20:44:00.006-06:002011-01-23T21:50:23.177-06:00

The creation story fascinates me--the concept that God spoke and there was from the wasn't.When visualizing the power of God's spoken Word, my mind connects to the Disney movie where Aladdin speaks the words of his wish and poof, the Genie magically makes those words become reality on the technicolor screen. It's a real, divine power that I can only seemingly understand through the lens of

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-24371938364978965432011-01-16T19:13:00.008-06:002011-01-16T20:58:05.688-06:00

Mention the word "seduction," and tawdry images from the Victoria's Secret window at the mall or television shows like Desperate Housewives might come to your mind. However, despite how the term is normally used, seduction need not be sexual.A person can be seduced into doing any number of actions--theft, gossip, idolatry, murder. They could be seduced by someone's fraudulent scheme or even

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-49459639143570445002011-01-09T19:57:00.005-06:002011-03-27T21:08:50.609-05:00

My four-year-old bounced off the desk as I sang to him the first few bars of "I love you a bushel and a peck.""Where did you learn that, mommy?"I told him of my daddy's father, Grandpa John. The nearly ever-present grin. The mischief. I was in college when he died and couldn't attend the funeral. It was a death that left behind a silence where his laughter and those oft-sung words once

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-17525572662496789552011-01-02T19:58:00.000-06:002011-01-02T19:58:21.667-06:00

It started when I was in college. For reasons I still don't understand, God breathed into me a spirit of discernment concerning people. Since that time, He has told me many times "beware," "hold back,"or "stay alert."But I haven't always listened, choosing instead to think that the voice must be wrong...choosing to instead to live in denial of what my heart knew. After all, everyone else liked

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-67805664067169734792010-12-26T20:50:00.005-06:002010-12-26T22:08:27.385-06:00

What must the wise men have thought as day after day, their journey continued with no end in sight? What must their families have thought when their loved ones decided to set out on the journey in the first place? Who in his right mind would leave home to travel by faith, following not a map, not a handwritten message, but a shimmering pinpoint of light in the night sky?The magi traveled such a

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-51458183571303158972010-12-19T20:48:00.007-06:002010-12-20T21:58:55.435-06:00

I pass our family nativity, each time pausing just a moment to glance at the herd of sheep. One, two, three, four, five...plus the two held by the shepherds. Seven sheep.Each year, our family adds one piece to the nativity. This year's addition was the woman at the well. Today, she pours water for Mary's donkey. This coming spring, she will stand by a well, waiting for Christ to change her

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-44878905774789684612010-12-12T21:19:00.008-06:002010-12-12T21:54:07.227-06:00

I had already decided not to post this week.With three children and me all catching the stomach flu on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, then my husband succumbing to its grips on Saturday, my time with God this week has been very little, too little to give you some human-contrived lesson from the Word.Don't get me wrong. Each of my days has been littered with a hundred short bursts of prayer for

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-63984734897971485402010-12-05T22:58:00.003-06:002010-12-05T23:58:53.642-06:00

Maybe it's the economy. Or maybe the road construction blocking every route across the Amite River to the city shopping districts. Or maybe...Last week, I made two forays into the melee. The little Christmas shopping I do is long ago finished, but that doesn't mean I'm going to hibernate until others return to a sane shopping pattern.As I made my routine purchases, as I chatted with the cashiers

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-45852070312818947492010-11-28T19:19:00.013-06:002010-11-28T20:17:46.431-06:00

In Poor Richard's Almanac, the great American Ben Franklin penned many a phrase that has been passed down through so many generations that people no longer remember him as the author.You probably know more of Franklin's aphorisms than you think--"Time is money," "Keep the eyes wide open before marriage and half shut afterwards," or "In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-51023180778617258982010-11-21T17:21:00.007-06:002010-11-21T18:43:41.005-06:00

Another Disney movie is being released this week--Tangled, a remake of the classic Rapunzel. Although I haven't even seen the previews, I already know the ending. It'll be some happily-ever-after, justice-always-prevailing, evil-always-being-punished conclusion to make its viewers feel all warm and fuzzy as they leave the theater, knowing all is right with the world.I've always judged a story

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-37236846983044796112010-11-14T20:59:00.002-06:002010-11-14T21:46:43.496-06:00

People are SO pushy this time of year. Seriously. Thanksgiving isn't quite here yet, but I've been "encouraged" all week by my pastor, the local radio station, a few salesladies, and the news media to count my blessings, to be thankful."Badgered" might be a better word than "encouraged." It's like in the months of November and December, Christian and non-Christian America alike is saying, "It

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-22445288798723199972010-11-07T20:45:00.005-06:002010-11-07T21:55:19.792-06:00

It's odd, this reading, pursuing, receiving, researching, and writing messages from God's Word. As I grow ever nearer to the two year blogging mark, you'd think I would have it figured out by now. But I'm still as baffled by it all as I was in the beginning, not knowing which messages will touch others in a demonstrable way and which messages will be met with silence.Just last week, I wrote on

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-86964073526754164752010-10-31T19:40:00.002-05:002010-10-31T19:50:28.140-05:00

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-87449297093844010202010-10-24T21:02:00.003-05:002010-10-24T21:56:08.291-05:00

Wyatt snatches the plastic school bus from Amelia's hands, turns, and races down the hall to the other end of the house. Her screams immediately hit the upper octaves. As if on cue, huge crocodile tears follow, splashing onto her shirt.In a week where my oldest has tried everything in his almost-4-year-old power to annoy, irritate, and frustrate his younger siblings, this is the last straw in

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-6413900567294909502010-10-17T16:36:00.005-05:002010-10-17T20:09:51.692-05:00

Ask any kid about Jell-O, and more than likely, he'll tell you his top two favorites along with some tips about how to best keep those slippery squares from ending up on the floor.I remember Jell-O as a comfort food my mother made when I was sick. I also recall less-than-patiently making my way down the cafeteria-style line at Piccadilly toward my goal--those crystal goblets piled high with

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-65784258973718944092010-10-10T14:17:00.007-05:002010-10-10T20:35:24.154-05:00

A woman steps forward in an American court of law and stands in the witness box. Before she is allowed to give testimony, though, she must raise her right hand, place her left on the Bible, and swear to "tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."While the oath may initially seem redundant, the wording is really an attempt to completely define what "truth" is. For example, to "

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-39439749218971926652010-10-02T11:09:00.006-05:002010-10-03T22:38:01.048-05:00

A man. An estranged woman. A slug loaded into a 22 rifle.Ironically, he exhibits the virtue of patience as he lies in wait. Suddenly, eyes flicker as brain synapses fire in recognition. Finger on the trigger, he aims, blasting a hole straight through the metal door of her truck before hitting his target made of easily permeable flesh.It sounds like something from the movies or a third-world

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-76651952564023154572010-09-26T16:41:00.004-05:002010-09-26T20:20:49.363-05:00

Several teenage girls sprayed their hair an all-too-mature shade of gray. One twisted hers up in a severe-looking bun and draped a brown, crocheted shawl around her falsely-hunched shoulders. Another wore thick, large glasses too big for her narrow face and stood, leaning heavily on a well-worn, wooden cane. Yet another held a set of dentures in her hands as all stood close together in a line,

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-74346537613628354522010-09-19T17:30:00.003-05:002010-09-19T20:37:06.716-05:00

My pastor describes it as standing beneath a waterfall, the weight of the falling water pounding down over and around you as you stand on the rocks beneath, arm outstretched, trying to fill your cup. Simple physics says most of the never-ending stream of water will pass you by, failing to quench your thirst. Yet, drenched and weak from standing in the torrential downpour, you're thankful for

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-45761666828396089062010-09-12T20:52:00.000-05:002010-09-12T20:52:00.688-05:00

Looking up, I saw the van's thermometer registered a sweltering 98. Just another day in a long, humid string made unbearable by an early-September heat wave.While September 22 is the official first day of fall, I've spent my summer longing for the hot season to end and this next cooler season to engulf me. And I must confess: with each passing day, I'm getting more antsy.The main problem is a

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-62183531734585847692010-09-05T23:21:00.002-05:002010-09-05T23:24:32.257-05:00

One good thing about moving to a new house is the work-out it requires, and I’m not just talking about the physical part that always seem to pinpoint those rarely used muscles. Apart from packing boxes and toting around large pieces of furniture, the mental workout is almost as time consuming and sometimes just as strenuous.A crumpled post-it note, a box of old cards, a “lost” baby toy now

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-11284921115729981972010-08-29T17:40:00.003-05:002010-08-29T19:47:58.272-05:00

It's always been troubling to me. The dozens of people who have passed through my life, most not even leaving a shadow of remembrance behind.What about them? What happens when I forget their names? And what if I never knew them to begin with? There are literally faceless hundreds we pass each week as we shop in stores, drive down the highways, or sit to eat in restaurants?As believers, we are

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-58833799103633458492010-08-22T20:55:00.006-05:002010-08-22T21:37:45.707-05:00

My husband and I have been married almost ten years this December, and dated four years before that. Fourteen years together--and yet, every once in awhile, my eyebrows will raise as I blurt out, "You never told me that before!" Whether it's a childhood story his mother relates to me or a letter to the editor I discover he had published, there is still mystery in our marriage.While I may

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-19953269671835146262010-08-16T01:01:00.003-05:002010-08-16T01:17:41.869-05:00

Jennifer is visiting her grandmother in Michigan this week, and in her absence she has graciously indulged and entrusted me, her husband, with this week’s posting. Jennifer is a living embodiment of a Proverbs 31 woman, and I can only hope to impart some small measure of the passion for the Scripture she conveys in this space each week.About a year ago I found a dear friend from my childhood

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-24290371313764793372010-08-08T16:18:00.006-05:002010-08-08T21:46:35.426-05:00

My first reaction wasn't shock or anger. It was a swirled mixture of disappointment and sadness, that sinking hopeless kind of feeling as if someone were standing above me pressing down on my shoulders.It was just last August that I read New Orleans author Anne Rice's Called Out of Darkness: A Spiritual Confession, a compelling memoir tracing the winding path that took her from atheism to faith

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-52273578684050547742010-08-01T21:13:00.003-05:002010-08-01T21:21:04.305-05:00

God speaks. Through his Word, prayer, visions, dreams, or the Godly arranging of life’s circumstances—Christians believe God speaks directly to them as part of their personal relationship with the Father and Son.And were you to ask any of us, deep down, we have difficulty with those dry spells when God is silent. The writing world is filled with words exploring those deserts.As God’s children, we

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-10585427806125117922010-07-25T21:10:00.001-05:002010-07-25T21:10:00.242-05:00

In the fourth grade, I caught the chicken pox from another girl in my class named Jennifer. It wasn't that her mother just decided to send a sick child to church. She simply didn't know her daughter could possibly catch the virus a second time (she could).A few spots here, another couple there--they were initially easily mistaken as bug bites. But even though her body wasn't yet covered in the

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-72571637195022138812010-07-18T22:29:00.005-05:002010-07-18T23:38:09.453-05:00

The cover of People magazine would read "Ordinary Housewife Confesses to Heinous Crime." Bored shoppers would grab a copy while waiting in line and flip through the pages to see a not-so-glamorous-photo of me with my angelic-looking three children. Inside, the story would tell about my hidden life of crime.I can almost imagine the clucking "tisk tisk" sounds and side to side head shake of the

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-7856181067451623952010-07-11T19:28:00.003-05:002010-07-11T20:21:08.754-05:00

Last week, my friend Lyla over at A Different Story suggested her readers spend "7 days in a Psalm."I don't think...no, I know I've never spent seven days in one chapter before. My pastor has suggested it more times than I can count, but there's just so much ground to cover in the Word, and not really understanding the joys of in-depth Bible study until my late twenties makes me feel like I've

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-25478137170416358962010-07-04T22:23:00.004-05:002010-07-04T23:21:17.502-05:00

It wasn't that long ago when "storage" meant people tucking away unused items in their attics and barns. If it didn't fit your body or home, you either threw it out or found someone else who could use it.Now? I can't drive twenty minutes from my home without seeing huge complexes filled with row upon row of storage units. Some are climate controlled and large enough to live in!The popularity of

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-38203418949803069322010-06-27T23:14:00.004-05:002010-06-27T23:41:23.637-05:00

Dear Viewers, we regret to inform you that this week's episode will be preempted by a test of the emergency broadcast system.It seems with the extreme moving team that pushed through a Friday-Saturday move into the new house, this blogger's system hard wiring overloaded and may have fried.The outages have been pretty wide spread, affecting even the most basic actions, language usage, and

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-21851304486483553072010-06-20T17:48:00.008-05:002010-06-20T18:58:19.135-05:00

Imagine waking up each morning, wondering if today is the day. You've heard the stories of the fanatical gangs swooping into sleeping villages in the dead of night. You've seen the damage their sharpened machetes have done, killing and maiming to the point where some villages resemble a butcher's shop more than a human dwelling place.So far, your village has been spared. But you live each day

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-32430144525915776422010-06-13T19:42:00.003-05:002010-06-13T20:21:50.162-05:00

Bookstores abound with historical and fictional stories of people searching for their past, trying to find out where they came from. Even many popular films show a main character on a sometimes lifelong quest to discover herself.This search for who I am, to know myself, is a major step to becoming what I can be. To know who I am is to avoid being swayed by any other versions of myself that

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-29449753394366312522010-06-06T17:46:00.004-05:002010-06-06T18:46:25.756-05:00

I wear a lot of hats. Mom, professor, wife, preschool Sunday School teacher, pianist, interior decorator, chef, personal shopper, landscaper...just to name a few.But priest? That's never a hat I considered for myself.I'm not Catholic...and besides, I'm a woman, so I figured those two qualities pretty much put me out of the running.And yet, Peter says as part of the body of Christ, I and all

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-11860798687458535332010-05-30T16:28:00.003-05:002010-05-30T22:37:58.849-05:00

It was one of my favorite songs as a child, probably because of the upbeat tempo and choreography--little feet marching in place or trotting like a horse. Arms soaring up and down. All while my brother and I belted out the words: "I may never march in the infantry, ride in the Calvary, shoot the artillery. I may never fly o'er the enemy. But I'm in the Lord's army."While many of my family

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-37968163767856460112010-05-23T18:47:00.004-05:002010-05-23T21:19:18.046-05:00

What happens when we expect something that isn't? When reality collides with our vision of how things should be? Are we simply blinded by our expectations so that we just ignore the differences? Or if our eyes are opened, do we allow our disappointment to rule over us to the point where we attempt to mold what is into what we think it should be? It seems I have spent a lifetime where my

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-11168503335591515022010-05-16T19:03:00.003-05:002010-05-16T21:58:50.333-05:00

Mounted on the wall by the back door is a set of hooks for catching keys. I must be using the wrong kind of bait, though, because those hooks come up empty more often than not.At least once a week, I fly in the house to turn off the alarm and something distracts me--a phone call, a screaming child, an impatient request for a snack. Mindlessly, I put the keys down on the kitchen cabinet, desk,

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-29480707542780209332010-05-10T05:00:00.000-05:002010-05-10T05:00:01.513-05:00

Hymns or choruses? Drums and a bass or a piano and organ? Praise team or choir? Pulpit or nothing separating the pastor from the people? Clapping and hands in the air or a reverent silence?Those are a few of the debates that surround the topic of "modern worship." I cannot claim to know the ultimate answer about any of them. And frankly, they are not debates in which I want to involve myself. So,

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-2861910531942129292010-05-03T06:32:00.001-05:002010-05-03T06:32:00.091-05:00

In the corners of our land, concrete markers sink deep into the earth, marking where our grass ends and the neighbor's begins. Over time, though, the markers can disappear at the hands of mischievous children or simply the destructive nature of time, blurring the lines between ours and theirs.With the advent of public records, this destruction of a physical boundary marker isn't too serious. A

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-84046017073800134702010-04-25T22:28:00.008-05:002010-04-25T23:57:35.025-05:00

"Don't read the first few chapters as merely an allegory. Read them as a story of actual events happening between God and two very real people."Those instructions may sound simple enough, but they weren't. It was easy to understand the text as symbolic. But to imagine that the events literally happened? Well, it was hard for me to wrap my head around God asking someone, anyone to do what was

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-41740270201729957502010-04-18T23:24:00.004-05:002010-04-18T23:41:10.639-05:00

Once the thermometer inches above 80 degrees, our household begins consuming more water to replace what the body loses through profuse sweating in the south Louisiana sun.Over the past two weeks, even my eighteen-month-old twins have learned the word “waa.” Although they scream whenever the straw sucks air at the bottom of the cup, lack of water isn’t something I have to worry about.I take for

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-19189313608298031332010-04-11T23:11:00.004-05:002010-04-11T23:20:55.996-05:00

Growing up, I lived for Saturday morning cartoons—the one day a week I could watch TV for hours (as long as I got up early enough). One of the more memorable images was the introductory segment to SchoolHouse Rock. In the clip, four cartoon kids stretch taller as the theme song plays, “As your body grows bigger…”Then, the lanky-looking boy shouts, “It's great to learn 'Cause knowledge is power!”

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-61594445550484597892010-04-04T20:28:00.009-05:002010-04-04T22:01:12.833-05:00

She tells herself this week is the one. No more chocolate. No more white bread. No more anything with processed sugar or refined flour. And then it starts.The cravings.Where she used to go all day without thinking of sweets, now that they're taboo, visions of sugarplums dance before her eyes. She can almost smell the aroma of freshly made dough on the breeze. Everywhere she turns, some

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-55817160424233710902010-03-28T21:59:00.004-05:002010-03-28T23:12:41.803-05:00

A few years ago, I watched the Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson hit movie The Bucket List. In it, two aging men with terminal illnesses seek to accomplish a laundry list of activities before they "kick the bucket."If there is any benefit to knowing you're going to die sooner than later, it's that you have time to put your affairs in order. Sure, we're all supposed to live like we could not wake

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-52778945568855813762010-03-21T21:50:00.003-05:002010-03-21T22:55:33.017-05:00

My marriage proposal was nothing to fill the pages of a romance novel and definitely not worthy of appearing on The Bachelor. There were no roses, no candles, no dressy clothes or special location. Instead, my then boyfriend of four years proposed in his apartment...after I had sat typing for over an hour as he dictated legal briefs to help him study.And then? He gave no beautiful speech for me

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-87184806634924103932010-03-14T21:46:00.005-05:002010-03-14T22:55:19.390-05:00

Abandoned. In the weeks immediately following my husband's losing his legal career, that's how he and I both felt. Four years' worth of friendships cultivated over basketball games, luncheons, cups of coffee, and even two vacations taken together--all were immediately dissolved by friends who, in our time of hardship, chose to completely cut off all contact with us.At that time, my husband and I

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161789947389554486.post-61503147255515112282010-03-07T20:56:00.007-06:002010-03-07T22:40:38.251-06:00

Young children don't have the market cornered when it comes to shedding tears, but the sheer quantity they produce each day may make one believe otherwise. Between the mouth-wide-open-bawling-so-I-can-see-their-tonsils crocodile tears and the head-buried-in-my-arms "hurt" tears, I could probably fill a bottle per month.Thankfully, the incessant crying seems to come in spurts. My three year old

Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01154350786925948762noreply@blogger.com3