There are days when my heart can't find the momentum to write. Or speak. Or think much really. Like today.

We are familiar with the call to and we scurry to respond. But a call to Jesus is a from something else.

Using my left hand instead of my preferred right feels awkward and unfamiliar. What might I learn from this experience?

Could we become a team together - cracking open and connecting our hearts so that women listening - would receive what we all long for?

Mary's grief over the empty tomb echoed back to me as I stared at empty shelves. I'd gone to where I hoped I'd find hope - it was empty.

I don't like to do anything slow or even less than fast. But might I be missing something with all this speediness?

Since moving to a townhome 15 miles from our long-time home, every minute of every day had been packed with figuring out changes.

Maybe I don't have to stop everything to find a quiet spot to be with God. Maybe I can be with God by building my home, my nest, near him.

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