He had me close my eyes and walk into the bedroom. "I have a gift for you. Keep your eyes closed." I feel my way into the room, fingers extended, and then sit up on the edge of the bed."Keep your eyes closed. Listen to me describe it first. This is what I want to tell you." . . .

It was days after the launch of Breathing Eden, when my soul was weary, that I began listening to God's whispers.The house dark, a blanket pulled across my shoulders, I sat on the floor, reading Scripture, asking Him what it is He thinks about Advent, this season of both awaiting the birth of Christ and celebrating Christ who has already come.I wondered what God might say if we asked Him how we should celebrate, how we should prepare our hearts, how we can be present with Jesus in this busy season? So I asked Him, and I waited for answers. And like I did with Loop, I wrote it down.Loop AdventAnd these four letters are Loop Advent, four beautiful devotionals, one to read during each of the four weeks of Advent. And there are four unique 8 x 10 art prints inspired by His words--to print out on watercolor paper or card stock, too.I love what the words in Loop Advent say . . . Read More . . .

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! . . .

I am in the tension. I miss my home.The smell of a burning candle. The creak of floorboards under bare feet. The windows opened wide in the morning. The bluejay in the primroses outside the kitchen.The kitchen itself is torn up, the first place I would head to each morning. Tiptoeing to open the shutters, letting out the dog, waiting for the light to flood in while the house still sleeps.My soup pot is tucked away in storage. My baking sheets in boxes with my spices and mixing spoons. I miss cooking. I miss baking. I miss the familiarity of simple things: walking our dog around our neighborhood, going across the street to get the mail each day, visiting Berta, my ninety-two-year-old neighbor, playing music through the speakers while I write and then make dinner, leaning on the counter while my kids eat a snack and tell me about their day. Read More . . .

The dog let out a howl in his sleep this morning at 4 a.m.Low. Weird. Totally annoying. I awoke, startled, but fell back to sleep, dreaming that our oldest, who just started high school, was attending my university alma mater’s rival school across town. No, he can’t go to school there!We are living in a cozy space this fall, displaced from our home due to a house remodel. The kids are in three different schools for the first time. There is a lot of driving now, meetings with contractors, trying to not get overwhelmed by a book launch. Oh, and Justin and I are working on another writing project together, too.In the evenings, with our family crowded into a single room, we watch the Olympics, the TV blaring too late into the night. There have been a few nights, when I have had deadlines, that I have had to crawl into the bedroom closet, across from the bathroom, and write. Earbuds in my ears, cranking up music by Jonathan David Helser or Lauren Daigle.This album is on repeat when I write now.Crazy? Good? Too full, God? Can you help me keep my eyes on You? Read more . . .

When she asked me if I would share the truth about myself, the story of my beginning, I knew I would have to start at the end.It was the end of me that started it all, the choice to let pride kill a life. Two decades later and forgiveness and grace is the truth I sing.Not death. Although that is part of the story too. Not shame. Although I carried that like an invisible shroud for years. Not silence. Although that is what prompted the belief in other lies I believed about myself too: you have no voice; you are not made to be loved; you are never enough.There is a beautiful book my friend Cara edited and released into the world a few weeks ago. It is called Soul Bare: Stories of Redemption--a book of 31 real-life stories by women who share the things they don't want to keep silent. Stories of the hard and the beautiful, the desperate and the good. Each story points to God, a testament to His presence in the midst of heartache, disappointment, pain.My story is in there. It is called Cold, Dark Ground. I talk about my story with my friends over at the beautiful Mudroom. And I am giving away three autographed copies of the book, Soul Bare, too.Read more and enter the giveaway . . .