Even when we say, “Oh, God” or “Oh, my God” or plain old “God!” it’s a prayer of sorts. Whether we’re sharing grief, frustration, or joy, God hears us.
what if I couldn’t do any of those things? What if I was trapped in a house, in my room, in my bed, alone and in pain? What if I couldn’t bathe myself? What if getting to the toilet required a monumental effort equaled only by getting back to my bed afterward?
I know I was at fault. I shouldn’t have left my friends. I should have made sure they were safe. There’s no excuse for being young and dumb and naïve. The memory of what happened to Rose, of losing her friendship, doesn’t seem like punishment enough for what I did. Which is probably why I buried the memory as long as I did.
When What Was Lost Is Found I have become the queen of losing things. Last fall I lost two of my favorite necklaces. One I love not only because my son gave it to me, but it’s one of those pieces that goes with everything. The other was from my…
Thank you God for the reminder that when one opportunity passes us by it’s because you have something better in store for us.
In less than six hours God has provided an answer to all of my questions. He’s helped me clarify my goals. Helped me lay out a plan.
When I lose things I ask God to help me find them. And He always does. Case in point: Earlier this week I couldn’t find my Bank of America zipper bank bag. In it I keep my booksigning cash, my booksigning pens and my Square credit card device. After every…
lately I’ve added something to my prayers. I pray for terrorists in whatever form they may take, because THEY DESPERATELY NEED PRAYER.