Deborah Malone
by June Chapko Roses have been a part of my life since childhood. I remember the delight on my mother's face when she received even a single rose; one I'd carefully plucked from a wild bush on my way home from our little neighborhood library. She would smile, give me a hug and place the… Continue reading Grandmother’s Yellow Rose
The next thing I remember is Jason racing into the bedroom and finding me on the floor. He knelt on the floor, gathered me in his arms, and reached for the phone to call 911. He just kept saying, "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me!" I could see the terror in his tear-filled eyes as he repeated it over and over.
by Danita Clark Abel Looking back , I have a clear image of what God was trying to do for me. But on that day, all I could see was despair and uncertainty. Surrounded by packing boxes, I sat on the floor of my master bathroom and slowly moved the contents of my cabinets, into… Continue reading Even With My Flaws God Still Loves Me
by Kathy Collard Miller Darcy's training pants were wet again. Again! As I struggled to pull down the soaking pants, I felt a rush of frustration. "Darcy, you're supposed to come in the bathroom and go in the potty chair." As I spanked her with my hand, my tension and tiredness found an outlet. Spanking… Continue reading No More Anger: Hope for an Out-of-Control Mom
We have the world at our fingertips, everything we could possibly want or need can be ours with the click of a button. We live an often fast-paced life filled with moments and days where we are fairly sure what will happen. We use the word hope to fit our lifestyle, often carelessly or… Continue reading Hope in His Plan
Many years ago, a bold disciple dared to step out of the boat. Various teachers have focused on everything from Peter's boldness in stepping out to his error in taking his eyes off of Jesus. But, imagine for just a moment, we've all missed a much more basic lesson. A more important truth.
Listen to me: the wallpaper came down. Sure, I've got to scrape a little. Yes, I still have to paint. But the biggest hurdle I had used as a reason for why I couldn't just pick up a brush and get to work turned out not to be much of a hurdle at all.
Please realize deeply that here is hope for the hopeless. There is help from others who have had similar experiences. When you are passionate about caring for other people, it is one small step to changing more than just your own world, but also the world outside yours.
A good place to start connecting as a widow is at church, possibly a women's Bible study or prayer group. If the group doesn't go out for coffee once in a while, suggest it. I found it's not a good idea to rush in a social whirlwind to start with. However, if a woman friend tries to connect be open to it. Take her phone number and call her. It's easy does it, but do it!
In time, Gary and I set aside our fears and anxiety and self-pity, and learned - instead of counting all that would never be the same - to count all that remained.
