Drawing Lines and Looking for Mercy

courage, Faith, grace, praise, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

On a Saturday morning with sunlight making designs on the furniture, I study today’s Advent card.

Six sketches, reminding of Christmas trees, but one different from the others. One more starkly covered, filled in with thick black marking.

There’s a story in the Book of John of a woman known for her sin.

Her indiscretions brought to light by accusers circled around in the sand at their feet, waiting for…demanding punishment with stone.

Accusers who retreated when handed their rocks to be thrown only if they’d never sinned themselves.

They wandered off one by one, their self-righteousness in check.

Then Jesus gently affirmed her sin, by saying ” Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.” John 8:11

Thank you God, for the glorious gift of your Son, my Savior. Thank you for the unfathomable reach of His grace and his mercy. Thank you God, most of all that yours is not a condemning acknowledgement of our failures, rather a gentle beckon…come or come back to me. Let’s walk together again. Go and sin no more.

We look for your mercy.

Amen

All the Pretty Colors

Children, courage, Faith, grace, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

Today’s Advent card, Day 13, is splattered in the warmth of colors.

Little flowers, leaves, stems all mingled together, all God’s creation.

Thinking of mama and remembering what God can do

Last night, Heather convinced me to watch a football awards show. I sort of watched, I guess.

I did get to see Dabo Swinney speak very confidently and with humility. I also got to see him dance surrounded by his players who were laughing at and with him, it was a happy time. A lot of love in that room.

Then, we both were captivated by a young football player who accepted an award he was obviously honored to receive, yet had not an ounce of cockiness in his stance. I don’t think he said it, but, he just had a look of “blessed” as he received his award.

Then the award, I wish I could remember the name for was given to a 28 year old veteran, his story of returning from war to college football and the tormented memories he carried.

A big, handsome man who thought not of himself but, but of the friend in his Echo Company who’d lost the battle of holding fast to hope. He died by suicide, must have been one night this week, joining several others from this company, he said.

The young man, the older man, one white and one black.

Both humbled, both honored, both had persevered.

Both were fighters, had purpose.

Both cried the same eyes pooled with tears.

My daughter and I did too.

When my mama lived she taught us many lessons. I can’t say with confidence that they were taught to her.

What I believe is that she came to these truths because she was a lover of all people.

She told us many, many times. “There are good white people and there are bad white people. There are good black people and there are bad black people and some people are just mean as hell.”

Now, my mama loved the Lord.

She revered God; but, she also spoke truth when it needed to be heard.

She told us again and again…”You know everybody sittin’ in that church pew on Sunday morning ain’t going to heaven, it’s just show.”

She was teaching us to see others for who and where they are.

Good people

Bad people

People trying to figure out which to be.

Teaching us “But, by the grace of God, there go I.”

She taught us how to live in a world with others, loving, her legacy.

This morning, before getting out of bed, God pulled some things together for me. He had me looking back on my week and said,

“Lisa, this is why I placed this person on your path…all these people have purpose. I know you’re gonna need these to get through the ugly situation to come.”

A woman who helped me this week, she lives in our homeless shelter. We talked about her son, 17 years old. She never thought to ask if he could visit. He’s coming to visit Christmas Eve. It started with me asking, “Do you miss your son?”

Or the high school student who shouted “Mrs. Tindal!!!” When she saw me, saying “Let’s do a selfie.”

We did and it was the best shot of the day.

Amelia and I

Last night, a friend whose son knows this young lady told me her mama had died of cancer several years back. I had no idea.

I’m so glad we hugged each other.

A friend stopped by to tell me an alarming story of a comment made because of her race. I stood and listened, so hurt for her that I cried.

We held hands and promised to pray for each other.

A big and thoughtless mistake was made on my son’s campus. The media has spread the bad, neglecting to add any good…the possible cause for misinterpretation. I’m glad my son was not a part; but, I’m shaken by the ripple effect.

So, I think again of mama and I think of good and bad.

I think of things only God can do while we, like mama try to be honest, true, kind and obedient catalysts for good, for God.

I think of my daughter’s tears over the young black athlete. Because she, every single day has big hopes for all the little boys she teaches and tells them so by her actions “You can be something really good one day.”

I remember my son as an elementary student, adamantly denying that his friend was black…He’s brown!!!

The 4 year olds in my daughter’s class have new, more accurate names for color too…maybe peach, tan, beige or brown.

Not black or white.

All the pretty colors, truly he taught us to love one another.

Fall on your knees,
Oh hear the angel voices,
Oh night divine, oh night when Christ was born.
Oh night divine, oh night, oh night divine.

Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother,
And in His name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord
Christ is the Lord, oh, praise His name forever
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
His power and glory ever more proclaim!

Entertaining Strangers

courage, family, grace, praise, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Entertaining strangers

My Gratitude journal entry for today:

Chances to be kind.

Chances to take chances on others.

Chances to offer chances.

Our homeless shelter has an opening, a room. In one day I met a recovering heroine addict, a woman a year younger than me told by friends “you have to go” and a teenage boy who thought we would be afraid to help, that our rules said he was too old.

When I can, I meet women needing shelter. Them and their children.

Last week a, middle schooler named Leila gave me a tiny school picture, writing her name on the back. Her mama gave us pictures, thanking us for covering the cost.

One mama, yesterday had no place for her 17-year-old to sleep. The people who were helping said “no more” and so he would sleep in a hotel room alone until she ran out of money…one more night. We had no room, five families, 13 beds and in “shelter speak” we did not have bedspace. We tried other resources, no help; so we made a plan.

To accommodate, to make it work.

On this Saturday, bright sunshine hopeful…a family, a mama is with her children all together. Her son has joined the family.

There was a lot of talk about Red Cups last week and the Christian responses recommended was to “feed the hungry, clothe the poor…generosity, demonstrating love, accommodating the distressed……Loving one another”

And I keep thinking of sayings and quotes, silly and/or profound…”Blessed are the flexible for they will not be bent out of shape.”

“small things with great love” and “every little thing’s gonna be alright.”

Our shelter, a place of blessing and accommodation, a place to entertain strangers.

God, our God will richly bless us. Psalm 67:6

Following Closely

courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Having absolutely no natural sense of direction, I was unsure of the right road.

I almost stopped, rolled down my window and asked for help.

Instead, I sensed moving forward rather than turning would have me end up in the right place.

And just ahead, yes, this is where you should be!

Other times, I’ve lost my way.

Second guessed a left or right turn, rationalized the direction that made sense, felt best or quicker.

Kept going because I’d gone too far, knowing with each step I was lost.

Roads continuing farther away than planned and me thinking

“Oh, just go a little farther, don’t turn back yet; just ahead you’ll see you’re where you should be.”

Told myself, stop doubting, worrying, you can trust yourself.

Yet, ending up lost and looking to be found.

I’m lost less often than in years past.

Thank goodness. Thank God.

I’ve learned that traveling alongside the one who directs me is easier than turning back.

Running back, mostly.

Reminded of my need to be guided, assisted, instructed, comforted by one who knows.

Reminded of times of clearest connections.

Of solace following desperate and heartbroken plea.

Remembering now of the best path, sure although clearly unsure.

Trusting the directions, the One directing.

How can we understand the road we travel? It is the Lord who directs our steps. Proverbs 20: 24

‘Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus.

Oh, for grace to trust Him more.

Walk Easy Towards Good

courage, Faith, rest, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability

Your hope will not be disappointed.
Proverbs 23:18

I only made it through 9 of the 31 days “of UNimpressive writing”.

I neglected to announce to the hundreds of bloggers who all, in their own voices, committed to write for 31 days on topics of “inspiration”.

I just stepped away from the challenge, no need to acknowledge a surrender or writer’s defeat. I just decided to go at my own pace.

Less demand, more heart.

I continued to write, though hoping to avoid the pull of being “impressive”.

One lapse into writing to impress and one follower, kindly and honestly picked up on it.

His honesty is and was a gift.

Otherwise, on this day 26 of 31 I’ve been content in my writing. My words have continued to be honest, to attempt to point to God’s place with me now as opposed to where I’ve been, and to write bravely with confidence in such a way that someone may read and stop to think, just to think.

Either, can’t believe she had the courage or lack of discretion to write about that or I have felt the same way and I’m glad I’m not the only one.

My aim, the transparency of a writer’s heart exposed to the world like a house made of windows with no drapery.

There has been purpose for pain and for pleasure on my journey. I am led to share the stories reframing of God’s hand, his constant redesign.

And so I walk slowly, writing along the way.

I heard the sweetest story yesterday about a baby excited to walk. The grandmother, my friend with an honest and earthen voice, told all of us ladies in the choir that “He’s learning to walk!”

We all sighed a collective and excited reply, “Awww.”

The grandpa wanted to buy him shoes right away, make his legs good and strong, saying ” We got to get him going, help him learn to run !”

To which grandma replied, “Oh no, let’s take our time, let him walk.”

This morning I prayed a request to just handle whatever shows up in my life.

To respond and adjust in a way that demonstrates faith in God.

Consistency and persistence, growing more important than ever somehow.

Baby steps are good.

Slow moving, tenuous steps, cautious enough to anticipate.

Steady and strong enough to run.

So much talk I have of faith, trust, courage, honoring God and yet I get all twisted and tangled in why I stumbled back there, back then…

Or how I’m ever going to make it to wherever and whenever.

I read this morning about a runner, concerned over impending rain.

A brilliant writer whose images literally pull me to his words.

Words, so subtly strong, they sink down and ease me to a powerful place of insight, never jolted or pushed.

Offering a chance to understand, never a demand.

Running. With Rain.

I’d like to grow in this way. I’m humbled that he has read my words, has shared them.

Just keep moving forward, Lisa… keep moving through, noticing the beauty.

Keep writing, painting, loving, trusting, holding fast to faith; in life, in God.

Run when you can; but trust your walk, pausing just long enough to grow strong.

Or waiting there, stepping forward only towards Good.

Linking up with others who write at Jennifer Dukes Lee, Tell His Story. Read her important and wise advice on friendships here, http://jenniferdukeslee.com/the-five-friends-we-all-need-tellhisstory/

Persisting

courage, Faith, praise, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

There are a few, maybe more than a few things I am persistent in.

I always make my bed, taut linens, perfectly smoothed quilt.

I pray every morning in the shower, like singing it’s a place to be secret, a sanctuary.

I journal, sometimes half-heartedly, gratitude and anxiety.

I walk in the evenings, if daylight allows. My walking, sometimes good and refreshing, sometimes nothing more than prescribed discipline.

Yet, I persist.

I walked yesterday evening. The sky was clear, the roads quiet and empty. I looked for pink skies and found only icy blue.

Earlier than usual, a warm afternoon and the sparrows were gathered, moving tree to tree in rapid little sweeping flight.

Landing for just a second or two before gathering again to rest in brief refrain. I caught sight of one resting up high on skinny branch.

Reminding me of rest, of waiting, of listening and trusting.

Persisting.

Scribbling, quickly this morning

Again my thoughts on persistence.

It may take years and years and many types of trouble, calamity, crisis and question to truly understand the value of prayer.

Because the answer holds little value, is really no more than change in circumstances. God loves us so, so much that He will bless us with reprieve, with clarity, with relief.

Still, this is not the significance of God’s longing for us to discover through prayer. God’s desire and constant beckoning of our hearts is for us to lay our hearts bare and broken before him…to persist there in that place…aligned with Him. To be fully content in simply abiding.

To return to rest in the safe place of God.

To persist in pursuit of the peace of God.

To be hid in the shadow of His wings and that be all we need to keep us confident and courageous as He bends to listen, protect and strengthen. This is design and desire of God.

I am praying to You, because I know You will answer O God. Bend down, listen as I pray. Your unfailing love is wonderful and You save with Your strength those who seek you as a refuge. Guard me as the apple of Your eye. Hide me in the shadow of your wings.

Psalm 17: 6-8

Linking up to Tell His Story with other writers, persistently praying.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/for-those-times-when-you-dont-see-a-happy-ending-to-your-story-tellhisstory/

Day 7 of 31 days of UNimpressive writing: words of prayer

Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I woke up feeling blah and my mind went back to a certain word.

Words are light

I hear a word, find a word it’s descriptive nature so truthful, so perfect… that I go back and ponder its meaning.

Thinking, “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant, so clearly what I felt”.

I’m hesitant to say this.

Not everyone has a love for words like me.

Not all people are “noticers” as my friend who understands me says we are.

“We notice things.” he says.

We linger in thoughtful remembrance of meaning.

My children, when they were younger, rolled their eyes, groaned and said “Why do you always have to use such big words? Just use normal words!”

I refused to be swayed. “Why would we have words, if not to use them? If you have words, you should use them.”

This morning, I woke with a sense of apathy.

I used that word last week when describing my concern over tone in voice that had me worried, an impenetrable attitude, a denial of doubting; yett, their tone spoke a resigned disbelief in most everything.

I told my friend, “There was just such apathy in their voice.”

And then, another friend, I saw this forlorn resignation her face.

A face that’s been saying for so long, “All is well.” had changed just slightly, head tilted, eyes more downward.

Perhaps that day they woke with apathy…woke with indifference.

Apathy

I heard apathy in the story of a child’s unthinkable choice.

Heard it in a story unexpected, tragic loss that made absolutely no sense. Heard it in the voice of a friend grieving.

Yesterday evening, the heavy stories piled up and I decided I must go for a walk!

I walked and was briefly a little better, guided by sunset horizon of rose-colored clouds.

It had been a while since sunlight.

My daughter, camera in hand, crouched in grassy roadside field taking photos

Seeing her, seeking beauty of light

like me.

Laughter, between us before bed as I disciplined my thoughts to continue towards hope.

Praying, believing.

Woke this morning and there it was to welcome me, apathy.

I woke with sense of “No need, doesn’t matter anyway”.

Woke with the notion that I’ve worn out my welcome at the feet of the father. That I’ve talked it to death, that I’ve become quite the nuisance.

The outcome’s been determined already anyway, why must you belabor the matter?

But then, my thoughts went to what I know, surrender and abiding.

I wondered how is apathy any different from surrender?

If I surrender, I trust.

If I surrender, I am remembering that God is Sovereign…yielding.

Surrender to light

A surrendered heart is a heart with light, a heart that is resting, not doubting.

Apathy feels like God has done more than he should. More than He will, that woeful mindset of bad things already to come.

Apathy is darkness, doubt and disconnect. Surrender is abiding in light.

The light makes all the difference.

“And we thank Thee that the darkness reminds us of light.” T.S. Eliot

Day 2 of 31 Days of UNimpressive writing: only from the heart: Our Given Names

Children, courage, Faith, family, Motherhood, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability

There’s a story about my mama’s name, mine too. She, Bette Jean, was supposed to have been called Elizabeth.

Mama wanted to call me Libby. Daddy said “No, that’s a can of peaches.” My grandma, “Bama” agreed to my name being Lisa; but, insisted on the Anne that follows.

Who’s to say whether we, over time, become our names or they were just right for us all along. My mama surely was not Elizabeth-like.

Couldn’t see her as a Liz or a Beth; Bette, for sure.

And me? Libby is cute, perky, and pretty. Not me. Lisa Anne is who I am, who I have become.

Heather could have been Olivia and Austin was almost Zachary.

Heather Analise, a child of God

Heather, open to life and at peace near open fields and cows. Her name fits. Analise added as a middle, pretty and classic.

Austin, James Austin, again just right. James a solid and reputable name, Austin, a nod to the dry humor and surprisingly big heart of his great-grandfather.

James Austin.a child of God

My children’s names, the names they have become.

I am thinking of the unthinkable today. One in college, the other a teacher leading a classroom of the youngest students.

I am trying, but struggling to place myself in the minds of the parents of students killed in Oregon.

I am wondering how, in the aftermath of terror and shock, I would feel to know that when asked, my children said they were Christians, told to stand and then shot.

I visualize not so clearly and can sort of imagine the scene.

Young adults, students, surprised by the intrusive presence of a peer with a gun, afraid; but, deciding to go with his demands, to not cause anger, to remain quiet, not draw attention to self.

To cower. To be compliant. I imagine this might have been their thinking in effort to survive.

Until, the question

“Are you a Christian?”

My children are Christians.

I witnessed the salvation of both and I’ve seen them acknowledge in ways big, small, private and outspoken, their faith.

They know Jesus. Jesus knows them.

People know that they know Jesus.

Children of God. A name that can’t be denied.

I am praying for the Oregon mamas and daddies, parents of children of God.

Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become Children of God. John 1:12

Thank you, Lord, for my name and for the names of my children.

Blog post # 163: Lisa-isms

courage, Faith, Motherhood, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability

This one, 1 of “Oh my goodness, 163 blogs?” I’ve written is really just for recording purposes, nothing else. Maybe even for fun, a lighter commentary.

Even Abbie wants to know.

Not to see myself as any type expert or holder of unique wisdom, just because life becomes more clear when you’re approaching double nickels.

Another honest, surprisingly so grouping of words, my truth(s)

A place called Quiet Confidence, my place to simply write.

Nothing outlandishly famous, just me.

Posting, publishing for a few who might enjoy, might be curious, might find me odd.

A place of a blending of what my mama told me, life taught me, and what keeps proving to be the truth of my heart, spoken through my Bible and in my prayers.

The place of where God is saying,

“Stay here, you’re starting to get it, Lisa. I knew you’d stay longer this time. I knew you’d finally see yourself the way I do. Stay here, Lisa, there’s good here, for you and through you.”

So, Happy early Birthday, to me. “Tell us how you feel, Lisa!”

People are people. God is God.
If someone asks you repeatedly if “you’re mad at them”, you probably are and they know it. You’ve just chosen the high road of overlooking their offense.
Nothing good comes by force…nothing. No thing!
Everyone comes to or returns to God through their own door. Share your map, point the way, hold the door, they will enter.
If you mess up, say so. Repentance is a mighty powerful testimony.
Read your Bible…read it now before someone forbids its reading.
Call your mama. Call your daddy. I wish I could.
Pray without a script. Talk to God.
Write notes and mail them.
Drop what you’re doing, whatever you’re doing, to be with your child if you are asked.
Do things for your children they should by now on their own. Things like writing initials on socks pre-college to do’s or fixing a snack when the request is “fix me a surprise treat” because that’s what she liked when she was little.
Never ask a question you already know the answer to. That’s fishing for info and you’re either afraid or just plain nosy.
Ask God to show you “What you need to know and when and what to say if there is stuff to be said.”
Understand that your children are different and have many differences as they mature. Love both, defend neither, advocate equally. (Seek justice, love mercy, walk humbly. Be a peacemaker, they’re blessed.)
If someone says they are your friend, but you feel worse after being with or talking to them, depleted and defeated, made to feel less than…they are not your friend.
If the song played at your wedding randomly comes on the radio, stop what you’re doing and embrace your sweaty husband sitting by the pool (Yes, Edwin McCain, “Could not Ask for More” just came on between an odd mix of “Don’t Worry Be Happy” and “Your Lips Taste like Sangria ” 🙂 )
The best plans turn out to be the ones not made. (Thank you, Diana)
Do not put the confidence in others that should be in God.
Pray before sleep. Pray before coffee. Pray before everything.
Every choice should be based on, “Will this keep me walking with God or will I be walking with something, someone else?”
Robert Frost was right about the roads. Experience the difference of the rarely taken road.
Return to your roots. Walk the place of your rearing. For me, that’s tall pines, blue skies, dirt roads, birds singing, creek running.
Write because it nourishes your soul.

To be continued, most likely, God willing.

Speaking in light and Proverbs

courage, Faith, praise, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

There is much reason to be burdened lately.

Churches burning, rants, debates, threats of harm floating about, impending doom speculated for later this week.

Nine people murdered despite loving a lost and angry soul, loving just like Jesus did and does. I was and am still astounded by their faith, their witness, their legacies. The peace of Jesus shown bravely through the ones left behind in Charleston. Attempts to overshadow were stifled by love. Then a decision made headlines on the issue of marriage. It worked its way into our minds, a distraction and a call to question beliefs in God’s word or to examine our faith. To find my thinking and resolve glaringly different than many. The challenge becomes walking in light, being light when it’s getting really dark all around, trying hard to avoid ugliness and remain quietly confident, yet desiring God, desiring to be light.

I’m over halfway through my life and I’ve wandered in rebellious darkness, trapped by my choices and I’ve walked in light, obedient and trusting, basing all my choices on being close to Jesus, a place of peace. Offended by a comment expressing fear of Christians who interpret the Bible so literally, they become extremist killers of those who are not like-minded. I was more than compelled to respond, yet waited and then took a breath, prayed asking God to help me explain why I believe His word:

“I am who I am because of my confidence in God’s word. I do my best every day to live out my faith in quiet confidence. As a child, I experienced the fanatical teaching. I rejected it, came back, knowing it’s the best and safest place for me. I believe in loving others and I pray I would never be seen as a violent type individual in my stance. My desire and calling is to share when asked Why I believe God and His word. My story of a life obedient and trusting is not loud or harsh. It is a strong conviction, though and may lead to much dispute. I know where my heart needs to be and I’ll stand strong and confident, rejecting hate and knowing I’m not perfect but so much better when I walk with God…this is the way walk in it…following His voice.”

And now, the story of a wise woman who walks in light, restoring faith, speaking in wisdom-filled proverbs.

Grandma Susie has that light. She and I shared a strong, sweet hug in the grocery store last Saturday morning when I, with a heavy and worrisome heart needed relief, there she was. She smiled, “Good to see you.” I wonder if she knows she has a smile like a light, a warm light like the glow of a lamp in an empty house left on in your bedroom, welcoming you in after a long day. I wonder if she felt my heart, its light beaming with joy to see her.

Like the morning light after a heavy, sleepless night, determined and hopeful, we throw back the curtains, lift the blinds to welcome the bright possibilities of a new day.

I told her years ago, I feel like God sent her to me to fill in for my grandma. Like an unexpected red bird, Grandma Susie is a gentle reminder of faith despite circumstances and of love.

When I worked where Grandma Susie volunteers, she loved on me filling that void. She was firm in her love to the children there, demonstrating love to build and cushion her strong and wise corrections. I remember her as “sharp as a tack”. She’d correct a child, then lean down and embrace them, speaking quiet words of explanation and encouragement long to be remembered.

In wisdom and love, as if to say:

My child, come and listen to me. Do as I say and you will have a good life. I will teach you wisdom’s ways and lead you in straight paths, so take hold of my instructions; don’t let them go. Guard them for they are the key to life. Proverbs 4:10-13

Wisdom

Grandma Susie makes me think of Solomon, wise sayings given with gentle conviction, Proverbs.

She speaks, her words linger, hold much weight. Grandma Susie, a modern day Solomon, much like Corrie Ten Boom or Maya Angelou.

Grandma Susie is a beautiful woman. I’m always stunned by her unchanging face, her confident posture, surprised to see her after several years.

I told her again on Saturday, just like years ago, how beautiful and kind she is. I asked her the secret to her beauty, unashamed embracing her in the produce section. “Is it water?” “Plenty of sleep?”

Ever humble, she never answered, so I asked

“It’s your heart and your faith, isn’t it?”

Then her face lit up and we were of one accord singing the same song, same chorus, the verses of our lives sustained by our faith.

And so we visited a little bit, planted ourselves in front of the bananas and got a little excited about our stories of faith.

She said, “Lisa, we got to feed our faith and starve our doubts. Doubt spreads like cancer…spreads faster.”

“We have to guard our hearts! “ She said, as others turned to listen.

” Oh, I know, but we make it so hard ’cause we can’t see faith” I added.”We’ve got to stay on our knees and in the word, keep it in our hearts.” she said. “We got to stop doubtin’, Lisa. We just got to stop it from growing. We got to stop doubt from spreadin’.” she added with conviction.

Then we smiled, held hands and hugged good and strong before going our on ways, she glanced back smiled and nodded, firmly and with authority.

I paused, hating to see her go and smiled back, uplifted by Grandma Susie’s love, light and wisdom.

I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee http://jenniferdukeslee.com/tellhisstory-when-youre-going-through-a-storm/

	Lisa Brittain on Women of Faith
	Lisa Anne Tindal on Women of Faith
	smoker4mom on Women of Faith
	juliedibblewrites on Embracing
	Lisa Anne Tindal on Shine On