It's my prayer that as we walk through this life together, we would always remember the lessons we learned early on in our marriage. I pray that we would use every trial we face, not as an excuse for self-pity, but as an invitation to walk beside someone else in their pain. That's literally what you've chosen to do for a career. And I couldn't be more proud on your graduation day.
If you would have asked me how long it takes to read the Bible in a year, I would have said thirty minutes a day? Or more? Because I wasn't really sure. It wasn't until I came across an infographic on Crossway, that I realized it takes a lot less time to read through the Bible than I thought.
I've tried reading through the Bible in a year. Note the emphasis on tried. Because no matter how many times I've started, I've been overwhelmed by the task and felt impossible to finish, especially when I hit the beloved book of Leviticus. What that book lacks in interest, it makes up for in length. And it's there that most of my reading plans come to an abrupt halt.
The hard truth is that some things just don’t need to be said at all. While my husband and I wholeheartedly believe in open communication and zero secrets, I’ve learned that every sigh of discontentment and passing annoyance doesn’t need to be shared, even with my husband. It’s difficult and nuanced. But sometimes our needs, suggestions, or opinions are excuses for selfishness.
Modesty is a hot topic! No one wants to be told what they can and cannot wear. As a ministry that tackles these tough topics, believe me, we know. But the seductive, tight-fitting clothes aren’t the true problem. It’s the heart behind them, the heart that says to God... “I don’t care what you have to say about my body.” But God does care. He wants what is best for us in all areas of life.... even our wardrobe. And modesty is about so much more than the outfits hanging in our closet. In the book “What’s Up with the Fig Leaves?”, Heather Thieneman uncovers the purposes and practices of modesty. I read the book this summer, and it answered so many questions that I, frankly, didn't know how to address. Rather than asking what to wear and where to draw the “hemlines”, she challenges us to consider why we wear the clothes that we do.
My husband and I are celebrating our five year anniversary. In some ways it seems new. Like we got married yesterday. And in other ways, knowing him feels like knowing every last word to my favorite song.
I remember the feeling. I was fourteen years old, lying in my dark bedroom, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling like a starless night sky. I’d pray to feel something, see something. A constellation of His presence. A confirmation of His love. I just wanted to feel close to God.
We'd just celebrated our second Valentine's Day as a married couple. I loved my job. Life was good. And then I got the phone call that no wife wants to get.
As the rainbow flag proudly waves over my city’s Pride Festival this weekend, a prism of color fills my instagram feed with stories of friends coming out and reminding the world that love is love. But what is love? I ask. “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud….” 1 Corinthians 13. Love is not proud. Did you catch that?
Sitting in the church pew, Mo admits that she looked every part “good girl”. She wasn’t trying to lose her virginity before prom night like so many of her classmates. She didn’t even feel the need to have a boyfriend. No. She admits that it all felt beneath her. Like a judgmental prude in her ivory tower, she pompously promoted abstinence knowing she still had her own virginity vow intact. But her self-righteousness lacked the humble reverence for God’s ways. And it didn’t take long for her heart to shatter under the weight of her pride.