Do you ever choose a word for the year? I do! I pick one so I can take the whole year to learn it, live it, receive it, and understand it!
So, what was my word for this year?
Happy.
Not long after I picked that word, though, I broke my finger and my hero dad passed away. Those aren’t exactly ingredients for happiness, huh?
A broken finger was a painful annoyance, but losing my dad broke my heart. Even so, in the midst of it all, I am still learning what it means to be happy.
Before I lost my hero dad, I had no idea grief would make me feel fatigued and hollow. There were many days I thought, “I can’t do this” or “I can’t face this.”
And then, I thought about my mom.
The strength I see in my mom is beyond what I imagine possible. Dad was her best friend. For 55 years, they did life and ministry together. Now, she is alone.
Don’t you just sometimes get tired of dealing with hard stuff?!
You know … strained relationships, difficult bosses, constant conflict, illness, financial stress … hard stuff!
Our hands can droop and our knees can wobble. We can look over our shoulder and think about turning back.
I’ve got 5 pieces of good news for you today (psst…and a cute gift), and they’re all from the Old Testament book of Hosea…
If you need this truth to be real in your life, then you need to join 13,000 women just like you who are doing my Hosea Bible study online with LifeWay Women!
On the road of faith, we all encounter “Thomas times”—bumps full of doubt. Some of us jump right over them, while others may stumble, falling into a pit of confusion. And the result … we become a Doubting Thomas.
I’ve been Thomas and I bet you have too, or you know someone who is right now.
There is no shame if you struggle with doubt. God invites your questions and wants to turn your confusion into clarity just like He did for Thomas.
Imagine what it was like for Thomas when Jesus, His Master and Friend, was crucified? The shock, the sorrow—but maybe he wasn’t simply a doubter; maybe he was a seeker … an honest seeker?
“Wanna do a concert in my hometown?” my friend, Lori, asked.
It was 1988, and I’d just recorded a CD. Lori thought it would be great if I could sing at some churches in the tiny Mississippi town she’d grown up in. So she then called uncles and aunts and cousins—and friends of uncles and aunts and cousins—until we had a whole hometown tour booked!
One of those nights, I was scheduled to sing in a coffeehouse. When we arrived, the manager warned me, “We could have a full house or nobody at all. I couldn’t afford to advertise.”
I told him I was just grateful for the opportunity. And it was true—at first.
Breakfast pizza! Yep—not pizza for breakfast, but actual breakfast pizza—is what we had Saturday morning this past weekend at Fresh Grounded Faith in O’Fallon, Illinois. Scrambled eggs, cheese, and bacon all on a glorious slice of heaven—it’s a St. Louis thing!
And then there was the Ooey Gooey Butter Cake! It’s another St. Louis tradition and it tastes just like it sounds—like biting into a sweet cloud of loveliness!
When Phil and I were newlyweds, we were in Wal-Mart one day getting some duplicate keys made. As we waited at the counter, my cell phone rang, and I turned slightly away from Phil to take the call.
(By the way, if you’re a new reader, this might be a good time to tell you I’m blind.)
When I hung up a few minutes later, I reached out to put my arm around Phil’s waist. As I did, I slipped my hand down and patted him on his—well, you know. We were newlyweds, after all!
As I did, I heard him say, “Jennifer, what are you doing?”
If you’ve ever been to Columbus, Ohio, then you know how much the ladies there love their state university. When you shout “O-H!”—they come back with a loud “I-O”! But that’s not all these sweet women are excited about. During last weekend’s Fresh Grounded Faith in Columbus, I experienced the even greater passion they have for the Lord.
All of the women were so cute and sweet, to say the least.
On February 18th, my whole world changed. My hero dad closed his eyes to this world and opened them to heaven.
I had no idea grief felt so much like fatigue. I didn’t know it would make me feel hollow. My brain knew what death was, but my heart was unaware that death was such a tearing—and an emptying.
Even though it’s been a few weeks, I am still stupefied by the fog I am walking through. It just feels thick and like life should be in slow motion.
