For years, I searched for wholeness in all the wrong places — in relationships, in marriage, in motherhood, in being the person everyone needed me to be. I was a recovering people-pleaser and perfectionist, hiding behind locked journals and a smile that masked real despair. This post traces that journey: from a grieving little girl who lost her father and grandfather within months of each other, to a woman set free from the weight of her past.

I weighed my options: should I buy the whole chicken from a local farm-to-table feed store or a big grocery chain? I said a simple, half-hearted prayer mixed with doubts. God answered my prayer in a way I didn’t expect. He desires open communication and knows our hearts deeply. Prayer is a powerful gift but can sometimes feel overwhelming or difficult when we don’t know the right words to say. My whole chicken prayer was a tangible reminder of God’s loving provision.

I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off. I was frustrated because we needed to leave for the party, but I wasn’t ready. I had run to the store that morning to buy a last minute birthday gift, tried to finish all the things on my to-do list, and made sure the kids were dressed. Frazzled, I plopped down to put my shoes on and growled, “We have to go now!” Everyone scrambled to the car. We rode in silence, mostly because no one dared to say a word for fear of ho

A childhood game of Red Rover becomes a lesson about what we all crave, to belong, to be chosen, to matter. One split-second decision can leave someone I love feeling betrayed and rejected. Jesus understands that pain firsthand. Betrayed by a close friend and rejected by those nearest to Him, He still chooses us, especially when we feel like outcasts. If you’ve ever carried the sting of rejection or the ache of betrayal, this story will remind you whose team you are welcome t

“You scream, I scream, we all scream for ice cream!” That is, until the ice cream starts melting, and creates a sticky mess that gets on everyone and everything. My son enjoying his ice cream cone. After my daughter’s T-ball game, we cooled off at our local Dairy Queen, grateful for the sweet treat and the air conditioning. They smiled contentedly, unaware of my eagerness to wash the sticky mess off their faces. My daughter enjoying her ice cream cone. When they finished thei