July, 2018: My goal is to encourage and uplift every person who reads this blog. Where I fail or offend…please forgive! I also want to lift up Jesus, who said, “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me” (John 12:32). Jesus is “the way, the truth, and the life,” and no one can come to God, the Father, except by Jesus (John 14:6). So, I write with the goal of bringing glory to God, lifting up Jesus, and drawing all of us—together—into true, deeper fellowship.
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I am now 68 and my children are grown, so I am trying to write as often as possible…which doesn’t seem nearly as often as I’d hoped! 🙂 During the week I write on various topics, including travel, current events, books, movies, or whatever has provoked me to thought or made me reflect on God. On Saturdays, I’ve been publishing favored recipes and trying to rekindle a love of cooking with some healthy, home-style meals. On Sundays, for years I meditated my way through a commentary on the Song of Solomon (from the Bible), called Rise Up, My Love, but that is now finished and I’ve begun meditating on the commands of Jesus—all the times when he specifically instructed someone…and what we might learn from these encounters for our lives today.
Private life? My husband and I have been married almost 46 years (although we were friends for ten years before that, so we’ve known each other most of our lives). Alan is the chief medical officer of a Christian psychiatric hospital here in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I taught school before we had children but then spent most of my “career” rearing and homeschooling our seven children, who are now 20-something to…the oldest turned 43 on my 68th birthday! The five oldest are married and scattered from California to Belgium and points in between. We have seventeen grand children and hopefully more to come!
One of my dearest friends once told me I reminded her of a little red helium balloon bouncing along in the sky. She envisioned my husband, Alan, as the string that kept me from floating away…and I assume that meant tethered to the realities here on earth. I buy that. Especially the idea of being a balloon. I feel like my entire existence is totally dependent on the Holy Spirit filling me, and without Christ, I’d have burst a long time ago and be lying broken in a field somewhere. All I am or ever hope to be is His! “I am my Beloved’s, and His desire is towards me” (Song of Solomon 7:10). Or, as Einstein put it, “I want to know the mind of God. Everything else is just detail.” I know that eternity will not be long enough to truly understand the ineffable mind of God, but I have tasted the love of God, and to me, there is nothing more compelling on earth. I want to share His love…to love others in a way that attracts them to Christ, who is truly the best! That’s my passion. I’m passionate about a lot of things, like family and friends and writing and photography, but nothing is as dear to me as Christ!
If you want to comment below, that is great! If you’d rather contact me personally to ask questions or ask me to pray about anything, please write me at: firstname.lastname@example.org
May God bless you,
Old P.S.—April, 2008, when I first began blogging ten years ago, I had this to say in response to the question, Who Am I? Hmmm. When asked that in front of a class as a demo for how to interview a patient, I responded, “I’m a woman, a Christian, and a wife.” Nearly 40 years later, that still holds, although I’d definitely add that I’m a mom. In fact, a motherless mother. Since Alan and I are both babies in our natal families, our parents—were they still living—would be approaching 100. This translates into our beginning to live through the sixties all over again, although we’re not a part of the sandwich generation. We’ve had to give up that comfy feeling of having parents cushioning us like a slice of well buttered bread…and that pressured feeling of needing to take care of both our parents and our kids at the same time. I think we’re more like bruschetta. Our kids are pretty much baked and toasty…industrious and independent. That leaves us as the stewed tomatoes! Still, I like bruschetta. Do you?