White Christmas Count your Blessings
On this July day, when it’s 84 degrees with a lovely breeze this song came to me. Such beautiful voices…and so soothing! Just felt like posting it.
On this July day, when it’s 84 degrees with a lovely breeze this song came to me. Such beautiful voices…and so soothing! Just felt like posting it.
Wife, mother, blogger, Catholic ministry. I love to garden even when it goes wrong. Same with writing (and we know it can go wrong.) Believing that God is present in all of it.
Every Mother’s Day since my girls were very small they would go out in our yard and gather a bouquet for me. Now, though they are not so little anymore they still take seriously the task of my bouquet. There is nothing more beautiful to me and I give thanks for the loving hearts that…
It’s happening again, that time when we decide who will lead this country. With it comes the finger pointing and impatience with other people’s points of view, perhaps not as badly yet as 2016, but this is only the beginning. For me, this period is torture. I hear (and sometimes partake) in disparaging, I cannot…
We are LEAPING….together. ….here is hoping for a happy landing.“You did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, Abba, “Father!” The Spirit itself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs,…
Incarnation. God is with us. The Word made flesh. Celebrate the gift of never-ending love. It isn’t too late to wish it, there are seven days left! Keep saying Merry Christmas! Keep celebrating the gift of never-ending love! Thank you for sharing in the journey!
My friend Tiffany Poole Lott is an extraordinary individual and she in turn is helping other extraordinary individuals who will leave a beautiful mark on this world. Tiffany has spent the year running to raise money for Hope for Ariang, she has run 1194 miles. We have all pledged at least a penny a mile…
Instinctively, I reach for the hand but then pull back, remembering all of my stuff. I am convinced that whoever the voice belongs to can’t possibly see it, because if he did, he definitely wouldn’t be so eager to invite me closer. He can’t see the mess I am, of this I am certain. “What…