Why is writing so hard? I mean, for the love! Seriously! What is wrong with me? I thought I loved writing, or is it, I love to have written? Starting is the worst. I should have been writing for an hour now, and here’s what I did instead: cleaned out my purse and restocked my kleenexes. Printed out my son’s paper for him. Clipped my hangnail. Checked Facebook, OF COURSE. Responded to emails, just in case there was something important that couldn’t wait, like, AN HOUR. Started

Who knew God would choose THAT moment? You know. The one that causes twitching, and gagging just a little. That shaming dark moment revealing you at your worst. The Please-God-make-it-stop memory. The one you aren’t proud of. AT ALL. I admitted mine to a room full of people. Like from a stage. At a church. Where we’re supposed to somehow have it more together once we find Jesus. Especially when you’re the pastor’s wife. But there I stood, sharing my ugliest place in life so f

As fall approaches, I miss my home in Colorado. The leaves will be changing soon, and locals will spend weekends driving up into the mountains to view the beautiful foliage of the Aspen trees. Here in California, a drought continues, fires rage, and I’ve learned to take pleasure in the handful of roses that are hardy enough to bloom in my front yard dirt patch. But darn it, those beautiful aspen trees! To me, the most beautiful creation can be found in those Rocky Mountains.

In 2009, I read a book by Donald Miller called, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. He tells a story about being a New York Times best selling author and yet, even as a Christian, something was missing. Life was unfulfilling. He was contacted by a movie producer who wanted to make a movie about his previous book, Blue Like Jazz, except they needed to fictionalize the main character, him, because the real Don was too boring. Can you imagine? In the process of making the movie