People Always Look for Roots Either we want to set down roots, find our roots, or cover our roots with dye. Roots, like people, come in many shapes, sizes, and styles. Some are small, delicate, and easily damaged; others are larger, stronger, and withstand the passage of time and the inevitable battles that come along with life. I am human. A small, delicate root that would break off if I wasn't attached to another, more substantial one. Jesus. His strength, unfailing love, and grace, build me up when I would otherwise break.
Our marriage hasn't been easy, and there were plenty of times early on when we could have turned our backs and moved on without each other, but we didn't. We also knew that in order to keep moving forward we needed to start actively being part of each other's lives. We needed to commit to doing something together that would bring us closer. Not just to each other, but to the LORD as well.
We prayerfully decided to choose two verses for our family to not only memorize, but to truly take to heart. The Lord wants us to place His words on our hearts and carry them with us--remembering them and truly understanding them.
What is Joy? Is it just a word, a feeling, an action? Are we naturally born with it, or is it something that has to be learned? What does it feel like?
This is the first time in months I've had any desire to write. I fell off the blogging wagon, and when I fall off something I don't just slip off. Instead I'm as graceful as a ballerina with two left feet and a club leg. I swan dive off that wagon, get my toe caught on the edge and end up belly flopping down a rocky embankment, landing with a gooey splash in the slimy remnants of a paper mill's runoff.
Recently I've been thinking about what I'm meant to do with my life. I'm almost finished with my journalism degree (finally!), but I don't know where I'm supposed to go from here. I've got massive student loan debt hanging over my head (and honestly, my husband's head since I stay home and teach our children and he goes to work every day, bending to the ever changing will of his employer--the USMC).
On January 31, 2015, my father passed away. In the last few months he had become someone I didn't recognize--the man with strong convictions and an analytic mind had disappeared. In his place was someone who was angry, and emotional. In all my years growing up I can count on one hand the number of …