The Ride


Because I love him, and since he asked, I agreed to ride bikes with my husband today. To be clear, we love bike rides – just not down our long road and not on the busy streets I ordinarily drive my car.

Riding a bike on the same street I’ve driven down forever gave an entirely different perspective on things. For instance, I never realized how many houses had dogs, barking dogs. I never noticed the gradual hills  and long meandering turns. Today I saw newly planted flowers and budding trees I usually speed right past. And the smell of fresh cut grass was intoxicating.

I also didn’t realize someone lived at the end of our street just over the guardrail. I must drive past his humble camp every day. His tent, neatly stacked bags, and camp stove were pitched in a grove of weeds. I found myself wondering who he was and how long he’d lived there. I wondered where he came from.  

Perched on top of my humble bike seat – secretly hoping no one I knew would see me I was forced to ponder how valuable my bike might be to this person camping in such an undesirable place.

Each morning I ask God to search my heart, to keep it soft, pliable, and open to his voice. But each day I find myself safely belted into my own driver’s seat racing past a world of needs. How many individuals are camped nearby in a need I could easily meet – just beyond the guardrail of my life?

God’s voice is soft. I’m grateful He spoke to me today. I’m glad I took the challenge to venture down the path of uncomfortable and unfamiliar. 

God’s voice is never accusatory. His voice is gentle and purpose-driven. He loves indiscriminately. We’re never beyond rescuing and reshaping. Today I thought I was pleasing my husband and exercising my body. God did that and so much more for me. I’m left wondering what else I miss when I move too fast. I feel selfish for more. My heart aches to feel humanity the way God feels it every day – every moment. My eyes want to see.

The exhilaration of my racing heart and burning thighs felt good. My heart and soul also crave exhilaration. What a marvelous mystery – to be fully spent by slowing down.
And by the way – his bike was blue and his name, James.

Luke 10:27 “He said, “That you love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer, muscle and intelligence—and that you love your neighbor as well as you do yourself.” The Message

Shaped by Words



“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.” – Robert Frost



Said the seemingly worthless lump of mud to the Master Potter, “How is it I find myself here under the careful strokes of your hands?” “I’ve looked around at many fine specimens of honor, ability and worth, and yet you picked me up and placed me in your sacred place,  me a worthless lump of clay”. “I don’t know why you did or what you have planned for us but never before have I felt such gentleness, such strength – such confidence and peace”.

Said the Master to the Clay, “You have great value because you are mine.” “You have destiny, design, and purpose already interwoven into your fibers, I put them there.” “I love your soft, pliable form. I enjoy spinning and touching every part of you.” “Our time together here on the wheel of life is shaping you for all of eternity; this is your first exposure to my Kingdom. The Kingdom you are designed to remain in and function in.” “Remain here with me, enjoy me, and stay wet, moist and pliable.” “Keep moving into my touch, leaning upwards….”

“But what will I become?” said the Clay. “Will I be important, will I be useful; will I be beautiful?” “You are already all those things” said the Potter. “You couldn’t be more important, more useful or more beautiful than you are right now between my hands, with me on the center of my wheel”.

Such peace and ecstasy cannot be found in any other place. Jesus paved the way for us to step into the highest place of honor by no efforts of our own. Destiny, purpose and His presence dwell there – in the center of His wheel.

 “Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand” Isaiah 64:8 NIV
I am a grateful lump of clay.

Love to Serve You



People fascinate me. Everyday people doing everyday life inspire me. There’s nothing I enjoy more than meeting a new group of friends to share my faith journey with. It has been my privilege to speak for women’s groups and early educators both nationally and internationally for more than a decade. Every experience is unique. And every experience is wonder-filled.

There have been a couple of times, including my first speaking engagement, that God allowed me to step to the podium with absolutely nothing written down to say. I learned very quickly that with or without notes he was in charge. My words are weak and fleeting, his words give life and are lasting.

People matter to me and we matter to God. It would be a privilege to serve you.

Please feel free to contact me for a list of possible speaking topics.

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Let's Connect

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Hi, friend! It’s a tremendous thrill to get to know you and an even greater privilege to pray for you. God has blessed me with a love for people and a passion for prayer. The comment box is always open to leave a public comment. I look forward to hearing what’s on your heart and mind there. Your reactions matter to me.

Or, if you want to talk — just the two of us — you’re welcome to email me. I will be sure to respond. Don’t carry your concerns alone. We serve a big God who has given us the highest privilege of speaking to him through prayer. I look forward to hearing from you.

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My Path

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My ‘path of ordinary’ has been filled with peeks of wonder. Even as a child growing up in a home absent of faith I remember times of seeking and wondering. Could there be a God, and if there was, would he want anything to do with ordinary me? I remember lying in bed with covers tightly pulled over my head slipping out my tiny hand, just in case God wanted to touch it. Little did I know he was touching it and holding on tight all along.

A more serious pursuit occurred during college. My father’s cancer returned with a vengeance threatening to take him from us. Once again in a scared and desperate attempt, I reached out from the safety of my bed. I prayed for my dad and for myself.

In my bedroom, without a church or pastor I raised my hand in surrender to Jesus. He filled my room and my heart with a presence I will never forget. I’ve been wonderstruck ever since.

This ordinary person, on a path of ordinary, is desperate for peeks of a Heavenly Father who continues to hold her hand.

Thank you for joining me along the path…