Listening for grace…

I did it. Again. Spoke strongly how I felt, cause I did feel strongly. I’ve been there, lived there, felt that, so of course I know. Right?  But there it was, again. That prick. That piercing into the tender place in my heart, beyond the callous of experience. My Father said, “Really?” I know so…

Pain. So worth it.

 Daniel and I were excited. We had been asked to move down to Honduras and help in the mission clinic. We had married knowing that mission life was part of our future. We had both spent several years in Central America, and so it only seemed normal that we would end up down there, at least…

These old stomping grounds…

Warm morning sunshine splashes in the windows and illuminates the wide tile floor. Birds call loudly from the banana trees outside, heralding a new day of tropical beauty. Coffee grows just outside the bedroom windows, lemons hang heavily on tree branches.   All shades of rich foliage and splashes of color paint my panorama. Pineapple,…

Free, behind the bars…

The mic felt cool and solid in my hand.  I felt calm and unflustered facing this crowd of men, all dressed in blue jumpsuits. The room felt small, the painted block walls closing in tightly around us. But in spite of the walls and locks, and slamming metal gates that echoed down the long empty…

More than enough…

The sandy fields slipped by, bare cotton plants standing naked. Occasional clumps of white hung forgotten on thorny branches. The barrenness is striking. Here in this expanse of dead plants, I feel it. I know it. I stare again at the page in my hand, and read the words again. His name. And the meaning….