All posts tagged: forgiveness

Why God Loves Kids and How to Become One

Jesus welcomed the children. We all remember that story well. The disciples, men caught up in the ideas and ideals of their man-centered world, wanted to shoo them off into ambiguity, to keep the children unimportant and disposable. But Jesus wouldn’t have it.
We don’t know the names of the children who’s heads rested under the blessing-hand of the Savior. I think this is by design, because we know in hearts that read the message and not just the words of the story that those children are our children.
Those children clamoring to receive the blessing–they are us. You and me.


When Your Baby Boy Breaks Your Heart

Nothing you do as a parent will shield you from this. Your adorable, sheltered, pink-cheeked cherubs will fling crap at you, they will blame you, hate you perhaps, be embarrassed by you, ignore you, lie to you, call you names. And when they’re grown you will one day wish for the easier battles when your kindergartner packs her Barbie suitcase and decides to run away. You will long for the day you found scribbled, torn and smudged notes hidden in the corner of the room under a pile of stuffed animals, notes that say, I hate mom, she is mean and I hate her.
But you will never give up on them. You will never stop loving them more. You just want another opportunity to give them grace.

Can I Shine for Jesus When my Dog Poops on the Floor?

    My dogs pooped in the hall. Both of them. My cat puked in the laundry room. I argued with my daughter. I used bad words in said argument. I didn’t wash my face last night. I let my kids eat pop tarts. I ate two desserts after dinner. I’m having a hard time forgiving someone. I fear I’m losing a friend and I’m not losing weight. In fact I think I gained weight last week. I’m a little fearful of what the future holds. I let insecurity get the best of me. I’ve said the word stupid about 40 times today (remember the dogs?). I’ve already ranted and it’s not yet noon. Since early this morning, I’ve worked on the same sentence over and again in my head and it’s just beginning to make sense: Let your your light shine bright before men, not so that they can better see you, but so that they can better see the Light  that cannot dim in storm or shadow or sorrow or even in the …

When Your Story is a Dumb, Sob-Story {How to Handle Harsh}

He called my story a sob story. That would make me the “sob-ber” –not really attractive. He then proceeded to call my story and how I told it –dumb. Three times dumb, said he. And it cut a little, like a strip of stray wood cuts the soft flesh of a palm, digging into the cutaneous layers, unwelcome. And my first response was to flush pink in a rush of hurt and anger. After all, I am my story and my story is I. And yours is you, is it not?

Why You Need to Stop Defending Richard Sherman and Just Move On

When I go all Sherman on somebody, I have one thing to say: Thank God there’s no camera rolling! If you don’t know what I mean, google “Richard Sherman Erin Andrews interview” and you can watch on any variety of media outlets the rant that rang round the world after Sunday’s heated match-up, (and great game) between San Francisco’s 49ers and the Seattle Seahawks. We’re appalled, we’re thrilled, we’re disgusted, we’re debating and discussing it – we’re all over it like ants at a picnic.