I think of my prayer life as a journey. As a child, I prayed by kneeling at my bed, and by bowing my head at meals and in church services. I knew to thank God and ask him for my needs.  As a young adult, and since then, I’ve been exposed to different churches and different expressions of faith and worship. This exposure has broadened my realization of the many ways we can meet God in prayer: communicating our praise, our needs, and our love for him.  I’ve come to realize that our prayers are the expression of our spirit, influenced by the Scriptures, worship and culture. We can be enriched by praying alone or with other believers.  And then I’m struck by the fact that the Apostle Paul calls us to “unceasing prayer” (1 Thessalonians 5:16). So I’ve learned that we can incorporate our prayers into a daily “thought life” where we have constant communication with God, praying through what happens during our day and seeking his guidance as it unfolds. As a result, prayer can happen while wal

Our family of origin can make quite a difference in the way we respond to life, can’t it?  As in many families, sometimes things are “caught” more than “taught”, and that certainly was the case in mine. My father’s parents were Scandinavians, often known for being tough and enduring people, who aren’t highly emotive. I love my family, and I love the many great things I learned from them. However, on the emotional side of life, what was modeled was to bury everything deep inside. I grew up thinking that the way to handle life was to persevere at all costs, to be emotionally tough, and to never admit weakness.  So that’s what I did. In my 30’s, I started to face the consequences of this kind of behavior. I faced damage in my life because sometimes I submerged my feelings (by claiming that “nothing’s wrong), sometimes I hid my feelings (by crying alone in the shower), and sometimes I denied my feelings (by keeping busy).  Clearly, I struggled to understand and express my feelings. As a

These past weeks have shown us – if we didn’t realize – what happens when fire comes sweeping through a community. For some, this is the first up-close and personal look of the power…and the cost…of fire. Fire is a big deal to me, ever since I watched our RV burn years ago, just after we scrambled out of it to the side of the freeway. It’s not just that fire and smoke destroyed it – and many things in it – it’s more what happened inside me as I responded to it. The pain and trauma of that moment has long gone, but during it I felt a sense of danger, harm and fear. Trauma can occur when we face a perceived threat or dangerous situation. It is an unconscious reaction to bad things that are happening or have happened. Depending on our different personal experiences, history, and personality, the same event can provoke different reactions within each of us. It could be loss, grief, numbness, fear, confusion, disorientation…or some combination of these things. And the intensity of these re

I don’t often close the windows of our house in early September, but I found myself doing it this week to keep out the smoke of the nearby wildfires. And this unusual, unseasonal behavior got me thinking about windows.  Windows.  I love windows. They can give us wonderful views of the outside world, and where I live, that’s a gift to see. I love watching the trees dance in the wind, the flowers open their petals to the sun, and the stretch of open land filled with greenery that leads down to the nearby river. When I look out my windows, I normally am reminded of the goodness and greatness and creativity of our great God.  So my windows usually provide a view of a world I want to see. A world of beauty. This week, though, it’s all changed. Smoke from the nearby fires surround and envelop our decades old trees, smoke fills our garden with a yellow tinge to the point where day seems almost like night. Our porch is covered with ash.  It’s a bit freaky. And so, I close the windows to keep o

When I was in 6th or 7th grade, I realized I was getting bigger and taller than many of the other girls (and even some of the boys). I was so disappointed! I wanted to be cute and petite but was feeling big and awkward. My body was not cooperating!  But since then I’ve accepted the truth: I was meant to be tall with wide shoulders. I’ve been able to appreciate and even enjoy it, most of the time.  Just about every woman I meet wishes she could change one of her physical attributes – height, body structure, eye color or maybe hair texture. At some point, though, we need to acknowledge that God has chosen otherwise for us.  Along with accepting our physical attributes, God asks us to accept His control, reflect His purposes, and be a conduit of His love. That can be a tall order when we realize our weaknesses and selfishness. Altering these attitudes and behaviors can be much more difficult to embrace than even accepting some physical attributes we don’t like! Accept His Control I’d love

Scene 1: It was a pleasant and fairly warm fall day when we settled into the plane and began our flight across country to our new home in Chicago. I was excited about our destination and yet, in the months ahead, I experienced times of soul starvation due to loneliness and adjusting to new conditions (people, weather, culture, jobs). Scene 2: It was a pleasant and fairly warm fall day when we squeezed into our cars and started traveling north to our new home in Oregon. I was excited about our destination and yet, in the months ahead, I experienced times of soul starvation due to similar feelings of loneliness and adjustment. Scene 3: It was a cool day in March when I woke up, ready to see the new flowers that welcome spring in Oregon, and to make that week’s connections with people and needed tasks. But there was something very wrong. The pandemic had exploded and our state was shutting down. I realized I was heading into a time of greater social isolation where I would experience som

This is the fifth in a series highlighting the simple and the sacred. It all started with a curling iron. We were newly married, and funds were tight. I wanted to go away and Bruce agreed. We either could have a few days at a fancy place or go camping. I said I’d go camping if he could get me a curling iron that worked with no plug.  A few weeks later, he came home brandishing a propane one…and that was the start of our camping adventures.  Camping can be dirty, messy and inconvenient. Especially when our kids came along and I found myself nursing in the night, working on potty training, and bathing kids in small bins while camping in a tent. Yet it’s been a life-long, ongoing adventure. We’ve taken short trips to one place, and long trips where we stopped in many places. Our gear has evolved over the years, but we’ve never lost our love of camping. I realize that some of the things we’ve done while on camping trips could have been done at home. But just because we can