Sometimes I wish I could be a caterpillar and spin myself into a cocoon and just hide away everything and everyone.

Extend grace and kindness and understanding and tenderness to the one who needs it, and accept that that person is you.

If I spend my time looking closely at the imperfections, I can find myself travelling down a well-worn path of discontentment and dissatisfaction, leading to an unsettledness.

Even when we are under the darkest of rain clouds of life, we see the Son breaking through and have hope that this till shall pass.

A thought loop and some trips down memory lane lead me to this: building my foundation on Jesus-truth is where I find my security.

God is writing a story that will one day unfurl into a bloom more glorious than we can fathom.

Rain is needed for us to grasp the significance of the sun.

Rain teaches me how love can change everything.

Rain provides a necessary opportunity to embrace the uncomfortable in my life.

A letter to my daughter, to mark a moment when one thing ended and led to something greater.

Today, my two-year old taught me a refresher course in perspective.

The morning came. And it changed everything. The mourning ended. Light broke through the darkness.

I don’t want to miss the mourning and sorrow that then prepares my heart for the hope of Sunday.

Over the years, the truth found within those words have been a balm for my own sorrow filled and weary heart.

Even as I find myself in shadow, I know with the same certainty that I know my children will be hungry soon; there is hope.

It’s one of my favorite seasons. Makes my heart fairly burst with the joy of it, especially in the concentrated little doses I enjoy on shore leave from ship.

Years of striving for perfection left me feeling defeated, full of frustration, dealing with a major procrastination habit, and the belief that I was not enough.

I wanted to dance but didn’t know how.

What a privilege that I get to carry this child God has entrusted to me. I get to be a source of comfort. I get to carry her burdens.

When the storms come in life, and they will come, what will carry me through?