Corrie ten Boom tells the story of her life in Ravensbruck, a Nazi concentration camp, during World War II. At one point, she and her sister, Betsie, were moved into new barracks into conditions that nauseate me to even think about. When they were assigned their bunks, they found the pallets not only filled with the the stench of bodily fluids, but they lay down into a bed covered in fleas. Corrie asked her sister how they were to live in such conditions, and Betsie turned her to the Word. In I Thessalonians, Paul writes, “Comfort the frightened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that none of you repays evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to all. Rejoice always, praying constantly, giving thanks in all circumstances…” In all circumstances, not just the pleasant ones… not just the ones we want. So Betsie and Corrie stood in the middle of a concentration camp–the foulest conditions, most horrendous torture and executions imaginable–and they thanked God for fleas. Fleas! Fleas that they knew would make their lives miserable. Fleas that would bite and sting and itch and make sleep impossible. They thanked God for fleas.  Read more... (929 words, estimated 3:43 mins reading time)

In a recent email, my friend, Monica, wrote, “The messages for our daughters and sons about what the world considers beautiful are everywhere… If we aren’€™t talking with them about what God thinks how else will they really know the truth?”

I see the images everywhere, beautiful women and men with perfect forms and flawless complexions. I hear what my youth group girls say about themselves and others. I see the securities and insecurities. I’ve felt them. And Monica is right, if we aren’t talking to them, from whom will they learn? From our beauty-obsessed entertainment culture? From their friends at school? From television and movies and music?  Read more... (745 words, estimated 2:59 mins reading time)

Audrey cut another tooth last week–a cuspid. That’s one of the sharp ones. And it hurt. A lot. Add to that the frustration of a broken arm. Then top it all off with entering the separation anxiety stage at bedtime. I’m not too sure turning 19 months old was all that exciting to her. She had a rough week.  Read more... (731 words, estimated 2:55 mins reading time)