Emmanuel.   It’s a beautiful word, if you truly know what it means. And I don’t just mean the interpretation, God with us.   Much can be said about God with us. The fact that God came to earth in human form and His name was called Jesus. The fact that His motivation for coming was love, love for you. Love for me. The fact that without His coming, all people of the world would perish eternally. Both you and me.   It’s all beautiful. And sometimes very hard to believe that it’s true. But it is. And that is, perhaps, the most amazing part about Emmanuel that I’m meditating on this...

Today we Tennesseans are getting a taste of real winter. Snow is whispering its descent to earth, gently piling over the dry grass.   The last time I experienced such a wintry day was in February, the week my mother died. Days earlier she had written to me that the freshly fallen snow was so pretty. More lovely snow fell a few days after she died. And now, it’s falling again. It is still pretty. In Decembers past, I would feel old tugs of nostalgia’s magic as I looked past my Christmas tree at the window to watch it fall. Though I do not wish to dwell on the happy memories of the unrecoverable...

As I took a walk on Thanksgiving morning before the family came over for a holiday breakfast, it suddenly occurred to me that we had no centerpiece for the table.     I couldn’t help but think about last Thanksgiving; Mom was with us. We cooked dinner together. Canadian geese bellowed outside; the stereo sang inside. The table was set and we had our choice of floral arrangements to use as the centerpiece. Several people had sent them to us, expressing their care as we prayed that Mom would be healed.   As I walked past dried weeds and berry-laden bushes, I thought that perhaps I could...

a poem   tonight so thankful for You whose lashes healed me whose nakedness clothed me with salvation whose innocence removed my guilt You unchanging Rock midst my tumultuous emotions Shelter that graces me with peace and security the broad path that keeps my feet from slipping so thankful for the family You gave me for Dad whose character is like diamonds in the coal of night for sisters who understand, talk, laugh, grieve with me for 37 years with beautiful Mom for her parents— lights, love, warmth for friends from all seasons of life so thankful for Your abundance, extravagant in forgiveness,...

On many occasions, the bright colors of autumn trees have cast their glow against deep gray skies and chilly weather, outshining the gloom of a rainy day. But today—this week—the weight of ashen clouds seems to smother the beauty of the changing trees. This afternoon I looked through the rain-speckled windshield at a palette of leaves, but the heaviness in my heart illuminated the darkness of the sky. One year ago yesterday, we found out that cancer had made its way to my mom’s brain. The first week of November 2009 was filled with shock and terror. I can’t help but remember the emotion of that week,...