When my oldest son, Clayton, was in high school, I found him lying on his floor instead of finishing a big English project.
“What’s going on?” I asked in disbelief. “What about your portfolio? Are you already done?”
He responded with a groan.
When my oldest son, Clayton, was in high school, I found him lying on his floor instead of finishing a big English project.
“What’s going on?” I asked in disbelief. “What about your portfolio? Are you already done?”
He responded with a groan.
I once got an email from a grown-up mean girl.
She didn’t know me and I’d never met her, but after she read my website bio, she felt the need to give me what for!
And, can I be honest? After I read her email, I felt the same need!
It was January of 1989 as my friend, Darlene, and I stood in the kitchen. We were focused on a little stick that would tell us whether or not I was pregnant.
I was a mix of emotions—nervous, worried, hopeful, anxious, and insecure.
It’s time to whet your appetite, tease your taste buds, and get you inspired! In a few weeks, I have a guest on the 4:13 Podcast who you will love, but before she joins us, I asked her to share some good stuff about food for the new year. I knew that if I was impacted by this, you will be too.
My friend, Margaret Feinberg, has been uncovering delicious insights in her new book and Bible study, Taste and See: Discovering God Among Bakers, Butchers, and Fresh Food Makers, and I asked her to share a few with you here. I hope you enjoy her as much as I do!
Pull up a chair … take it away, Margaret!
The dawn of the new year often stirs dreams and hopes and resolutions, but it can expose places of brokenness and pain too. For me, one of those spaces is food and my weight.
Now, you might assume that one of the fringe benefits of blindness is that I can’t tell when I’m having a bad hair day. Not so! I don’t have to see my hair in the mirror to know that it looks ugly—I can feel it!
And, as I was preparing to speak at a local women’s event one day, I was feeling it! I knew my hair looked bad.
When my son, Connor, was little, he had a new balloon which he insisted on taking outside.
“Connor,” I told him, “if we take the balloon out in the backyard it will probably pop.”
But he would not relent, so out we went.
He swept the brightly colored balloon up into the air, and it slowly glided downward. He caught it and repeated the motion several times.