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Recent Posts . . .
The birth of Breathing Eden - and a giveaway!
It was my friend Judy, over coffee at Cafe Barrone, who offered the first encouragement.We sat outside, drinking lattes from porcelain mugs. We were talking about writing and story. About the hard stuff of parenting and marriage. Of being known and messing up. Of connection and isolation. Of future dreams and gratitude for the now.I was in the middle of writing a series on my blog called Voice: A Journey Toward Life in 31 Conversations. And Judy said it could be more than just a series on a blog.Here is how I described Voice to my readers on my old blog page two years ago:"I wonder if you’re a lot like me. I wonder if you’re busy, with a calendar that is filled. I wonder if you want to live a life more fully surrendered to God but are intimidated by what a life of prayer is supposed to look like—particularly, what it may look like to have regular conversations with God.Come participate in a back and forth conversation—a woman’s prayers and heart cries to God, and His responses back, as she listens and writes them down.In the midst of a culture of busyness and to-do lists and trying to prove oneself and get ahead, can a busy woman's regular conversations with God—her prayers and her listening to Him—be the key to claiming the life God has always intended for her to live?"A journey toward life. I still like how that sounds. And when my husband, Justin, a few months later, who had heard me talk about this blog series but never knew the title of it, comes into the bedroom where I sit, laptop in my lap, and tells me he was praying and says, "I feel like God impressed upon my heart something about you writing and some project called 'Voice.' What is that?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.It felt too good to be true. Too beautiful. . . Read More and enter the giveaway! . . .
Look up, my darling, look up.
When I hear Him, this space I’m in, at this plain wooden table, this window with the cobwebs at the corner of the metal screen, this soft rumble of washing machine, this smell of wet dog near my feet, I study the room, looking for clues for what is different.
All is different? No, all is the same.