Last few minutes of my 27th year.

Beyond thankful for the mercy and blessings of Jesus.

Beyond grateful for His steady real presence.

Beyond appreciative of His nourishing Word.

Hallelujah to the One who threads each individual life with His supernatural touch.

Ready for 28.

Ready to be amazed.


-God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams!  He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.

Ephesians 3:19

Playing with hope

About once a year, I play with my hopes. 

Hopes. Dreams. Future plans.

Everyone’s hopes are born differently.

Mine always begin as long feathery wisps that swirl and whisk into solid balls of light.

Glowing pearls that I can handle.

Press my fingers into their surface.

Bounce them against walls.

Toss them into the air and catch.

I play with my hopes once a year.

Cupping each one in my hands. 

Rolling each one between my fingers.

Sighing at their incandescence.

At  how beautiful they are.

But only in divine Hands can they be truly realized.

My hands are not the place for them. 

His are.

So in the calendar squares before I turn another year, I collect each of my hopes, dreams, and plans…

And drop them…


Into God’s hands…

Where they belong.

For He is more than fit to take care of them.

More than capable to mold them into His will.

More than able to turn them from the toys I play with into a life I walk into.

~In your heart, you plan your life. But the Lord decides where your steps will take you.

~Proverbs 16:9


When I was a little girl, I had a tea set that I adored.

What I loved most about it was that it wasn’t the plastic toy kind.

It was real. White porcelain.

My favorite piece was the teapot.

It was so elegant with its spout shaped like a swan’s neck.

Smooth with pink flowers painted on it.

It was delicate.

But I, at age 8, was very remiss.

Within a year, the teacups were cracked, and some saucers were lost.

And the teapot?

Well, the teapot was chipped and scratched.

The spout I so admired had pieces broken off it.

I had used it so much and handled it so carelessly that its quality had deteriorated.

I feel like a teapot sometimes.

Full of warm yummy goodness and always ready to pour.

And for the past few weeks, I’ve been tipped over quite a bit.

Pouring for those who need a taste of currency.

Filling mugs with support for the emotionally deficient.

Topping off tumblers for the parched, the thirsty, and anyone who happens to have an empty cup.

Steadily flowing.

Always tilted.

But this teapot is just about empty.

Her handle is brittle.

Her spout is about to fall off.

Yet cups continue to request refreshment.

Still, palms pat the bottom of the teapot, hoping drops will dance out.

It can get weary doing for others.

It can get weary caring for others.

It can get weary being there for others.

It can.

It will.

Especially if you yourself are not being replenished.

But I’m learning that it is necessary to retreat.

Jesus did it often.

After healing the sick feeding the hungry, and speaking to the spiritually starved, He’d go off alone to be with the ultimate source, God.

The Lord never stopped His care for His people.

But He knew when He had to get away.

 It is OK to halt the flow for a spell.

Take it from a teapot.