A Beatin' Heart

"Old man, hospital bed  The room is filled with people he loves  And he whispers don't cry for me  I'll see you all someday  He looks up and says "I can see God's face." "This is our temporary home  It's not where we belong  Windows and rooms that we're passin' through  This is just a stop, on the way to where we're going  I'm not afraid because I know this is our  Temporary Home."  ~Carrie Underwood I can close my eyes and see it as if it were yesterday....every sound, every detail, every face that surrounded that hospital room.  If I linger too long, the thought begins to haunt me.  I had seen him weeks before, and weeks before, he had been fine.  He was not fine, however, when I finally got there.  There are many things I want to forget, but there is one thing I will always remember.  When I walked into the room, tears began flooding my eyes at the very sight of his condition.  As I held his freezing cold hand and told hi

I love this time of year...the shopping, decorations, presents, songs, parties, stories, and most importantly, the purpose. I love reading the story of the birth of Jesus, trying to close my eyes and fathom a time when the world looked completely different than it does today. And while my eyes focus on the beautiful baby and God's perfect plan, my thoughts are drawn to the woman behind the scenes...Mary. The heart of a mother is vast and deep and can only be truly understood by those who have walked in the same shoes. As a mother of two I have found that as mothers we flock to each other. You can have an hour long conversation with a complete stranger about your children. We find comfort, relation, support simply in sharing our own experiences. There is one mother, however, who I long to know. Mary! A simple child, chosen by God to raise, not just a child, but the King of Kings. My thoughts cling to her often. Were there times she not only doubted God, but doubted hersel

I recently read a chapter in a book that changed my whole perspective on a familiar bible story. Many have heard the story of the paralyzed man who was lowered through a roof to see Jesus. We hear the story and our hearts naturally draw to the suffering of the man and the grace of Jesus. How often, however, do we think of the man's friends? Yes, the miracle itself was big finish in a moving story, but what about the heart of it....the details, the small pieces of the puzzle that make it complete? Imagine a paralyzed man, sitting on the side of the road every day, completely dependable on people around him to clean him, clothe him, carry him. He was probably lucky to have escaped death as an infant rather than being killed for his deformity....although I am not sure he would have considered this luck. He is defined to others not by who he is, but the image he portrays....and yet, he had friends. Not just friends, good friends. "Here is a little band of men who refuse to l