I write rather sporadically about the integration of faith and thoughtful, creative life, along with the vocation of motherhood and missions here in a desert valley of southern Mexico.
I’m a wife of 23 years to Benjamin, a mother of three sons and one daughter (age 21, 16, 12 & 5), loved by the triune-God, author, hungry bible student (with a BS in Biblical Studies) and painter. In all of these, I am still in-process, under construction.
Through the years I’ve served through writing, preached, ministered with Jesus in prayer, taught at women’s retreats and conferences and most of all, deployed myself in support of my husband and helped to educate and disciple our kids.
I “prink,”… pray and think a lot. I’m passionate about growth and the ways our souls and stages of faith are shaped, ever attentive to this cycle and nurturing this along; this is my favorite part of mothering and drives most of my relationships and ministry.
I love quiet, order, shalom, big-picture thinking and planning, beauty, goodness, truth, intentionality, kindness, and ideas. Fresh carrot juice, multiple cups of tea a day, natural health and herbs, gardening, wearing blue jeans and t-shirts with hiking boots, exploring through the mountains and woods, swimming in the ocean, reading, studying, painting, climbing trees, sunshine, warmth, shopping in local outdoor markets, picking wildflowers, and the calming colors of blues, greens, pinks, and whites are all some of my favorites.
I’m painfully slow-paced, deliberate and unconventional, usually trying to still somehow do too much as if I don’t know all eternity has begun before me. Altogether too serious, my animated and bustling family has relaxed my natural earnestness.
I struggle to have competence with anything mechanical, math, physical science, or linguistically-related, but thankfully, my husband does not. He remembers concrete, operational, maintenance-type things. Me? Not so much. He is ever rescuing me from my mind-castle, and I am ever inviting him to see the intangible and potential from a broader perspective. It works out, and though we are opposites in many ways, people tell us we make a good team. I think so.
Now that I’m officially at “middle-age”, I’m finding it surprising to get older. Yet, it is ripening, and it is good. Much of my old angst and wrestling is gone. Many of my longings for life have been defined and refined. Much healing into wholeness has transpired. And I am sure, much more is to come.
We grow from glory to glory as Christ is formed in us.
Some things are settled. Some things are not worth the time nor the energy. Living to please or appease others is one of them. It is better to bless and honor. Far better to live for the approval of One.
Holiness and happiness are compatible. There is no difference between joy and happiness.
The larger picture is of greater importance. As is maintaining an inner rest and an undisturbed peace under the easy yoke of Jesus.
Life does consist of seasons. Within them, we are only required to steward the particular portions entrusted to us.
Maturity is most often exhibited by daily putting one’s hand to the plow, quietly utilizing and managing all entrusted resources.
I have a personal theology of suffering which has taken me into the arms of wise, sovereign, divine Love. I have got an equally firm conviction in the power of prayer and free-will.
God’s mercy is great; big enough to be tender towards my frailty, limitations, and ignorance. His gospel of salvation is more wondrous than I can grasp. I need it anew every day, every hour.
He is GOOD.
I believe in the economy of the Kingdom of God. He does not help those who help themselves; instead, He is our Good Father that richly provides us everything for our enjoyment, giving ample seed to those who sow.
May I be generous, as He is in abundance!
Humility is complete dependence upon the Giver and Sustainer of our faith. Great is Thy Faithfulness! He is indeed our Shepherd and we shall not want.
There is much ground covered in the living and in the learning, after all these years. And yet I sense, a pressing to go higher in for, ‘there remains very much land left to possess’ (Joshua 13:1).
These writings (and paintings) are my tracks through this land, the ongoing proof of my pilgrimage. May this space somehow serve you.