| ​Embrace the Day |

Let me not in anguish say,

When tragedy knocks here,

“Oh my, ungrateful fool I was!

I missed the golden year.”

Life is glad and joy is mine,

But often pain reigns ‘round me.

Reduce my days to trite concerns?

Let mundane things confound me?

While time is sweet and love surrounds

May I grow and give and BE,

For never will this time return,

Unless it comes to haunt me.

Today, be aware.
God’s Life floods your heart.
It’s always Raining Grace.

Books by Sally

| Tips for Parents and Grandparents |

We always promised ice cream after church to make sure our kids would pile into the car happily on Sunday mornings. It worked—until the sad day it didn’t. I’d foolishly gotten a carton of double fudge mid-week, and our bribe had lost its flavor. It’s just as well. Faith built on a triple scoop cone will topple and melt in the heat of life. Through parenting, study, and teaching religion for decades, I’ve come to believe that the secret of helping our offspring establish a lasting faith lies in raising kids who love God.

We all want our children to understand what we believe, and that’s important. But understanding isn’t enough. True faith is built on relationship, not knowledge. Below are some suggestions for building that relationship.

• Help your child know God loves them personally, individually. When holding your child or expressing love to them, compare your unending devotion to them with God’s eternal love for them. Your love for them is unique and so is God’s. They are irreplaceable in God’s heart and in yours.
• Sometimes listen to and sing Christian/sacred music. Talk about how singing favorite lyrics makes you feel on the inside. Note the connection between feelings of joy or peace in our hearts with God’s presence, his Spirit. Give your child the language to discuss their faith and help them know what it feels like to interact with God.
• If you’re having a heart-to-heart with your child, share a difficult emotion you sometimes feel, sadness, frustration, anger . . . . Invite God to listen in. Explain that God knows our thoughts and feelings and doesn’t want us to put on a holy face before coming to him. He loves us exactly as we are. End with a heartfelt prayer of gratitude for God’s unconditional love.
• While tucking your little one in at night, ask, “When did you most feel love toward someone today?” Connect their love with God’s Spirit within them. Pray spontaneously together, aiming your prayers inward to the Spirit who abides in us.
• Consider ending your prayers with something like, “We love you, God. Help us love you more.”
• When your children make mistakes, big or small, after correcting them, remind them that both you and God still treasure them and are forever faithful to them.
• Share your faith journey with your children. Tell them about times you needed God, and he came through in incredible ways. Explain how you persevered in times of doubt and why you’re glad you did.
• Not all prayers will be answered to your or your child’s liking. Pray anyway. Listen to and discuss the country song, Unanswered Prayers—even if you don’t like country music!
• Look for books at your child’s level to inspire them. Read these books together and share your thoughts, feelings, and faith afterward.
• With teens, welcome their questions. Together you can comb Scripture and trusted sources for insights on questions beyond you. Adolescents respect the honest “I don’t know.” Some aspects of the faith remain a mystery. Infinite truths aren’t comprehendible by our finite minds. Mystery helps us stay humble, curious, and seeking more.
• If our kids feel they can be truthful with us, many will express doubts. Uncertainties show your young one is taking their faith seriously. Doubt is an integral part of the journey.

Childhood is fleeting, but its lessons last a lifetime. Let’s pray for the wisdom, patience, and strength to raise our children well. With God’s grace to empower and guide, we can touch the hearts of our offspring, whatever their age.

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Books by Sally

|He’s Carved Your Name in His Palm|

“Are we almost there?” whined four-year-old Brian an hour into our twelve-hour drive. Our summer adventure had been carefully planned and enthusiastically explained. We were a family with great expectations.

“Brian, honey, maybe you could entertain your brother,” I said, looking back at one-year-old Jeremy, whose face was contorted. He was ready to burst again into tears of boredom. The silence in the car had been only a brief intermission—a gift of Jeremy’s ten-minute nap.

Brian reached up and shielded his ears as Jeremy shrieked.

The trailer we had borrowed swayed from side to side in the strong wind, and the bike rack on top of our station wagon caught the wind and produced a mournful howl. The crying baby, whining child, and howling bike rack made quite a trio, serenading my husband Mike and me as we drove down the lonesome highway.

Our nights were slightly more challenging than our days. At 2:00 a.m. on the first night, I stood outside our thin-walled trailer to check the noise level of Jeremy’s shrill cries. Just as I’d feared, our son was letting everyone in the park know he was not a happy camper. He wanted his own bed at home. He wasn’t alone.

Eventually, we arrived at the heavily-billed Atlantic. We enjoyed the waves and the beach of the Atlantic until Jeremy created a game. He thought being pulled back onto our blanket and having his mouth emptied of sand was fun. He kept me guessing by crawling in different directions, changing his speed, and filling his mouth to various degrees.

To top it all off, there was the ring, or the lack of one. On the fifth night of the trip, I sat beside a crackling campfire, staring at the empty prongs that should have held my diamond. I owned no other real jewelry. I treasured my engagement ring and wedding band so much that they were enough.

I scoured the campsite that evening and in the morning light. During the days of travel home, I searched our trailer thoroughly. I’d memorized the nicks in the sink, the snags in the carpet, and the indentations the furniture made in the carpet’s worn nap. I had splinters from sweeping my hands along the bottoms of drawers. The diamond was nowhere to be found.

I asked for the grace of a new perspective on our trip, and as we pulled the camper into our driveway, I knew my prayer had been answered. I was grateful that I had a home to return to and happy to help my husband carry our sleepy little boys into their awaiting beds. Adorable Jeremy patted me gently on the back before I laid him down, and Brian curled up immediately under his covers. Mike and I whispered and giggled as we tucked the boys in; we were exhausted but giddy to be home. We fell into our own bed, cuddled up, and counted our blessings. Life was about finding meaning and being thankful—despite what happens.

The next morning I swept the trailer carpet one last time so we could return the camper. I couldn’t believe I’d missed the bookmark wedged between the rug and the tiny couch; I’d thoroughly combed that territory. As I scooped up the card, I read its words: “See, I will not forget you. I have carved your name in the palm of my hand.” The verse was from the book of Isaiah.

I glanced back at the floor where I’d retrieved the bookmark. Glistening in the light that streamed from the tiny skylight above me lay my diamond—a stone symbolizing not only the love between my husband and me, but the Love that guards us on life’s winding, difficult, yet joyous journey.

Surely there aren’t always happy endings. We can’t demand them as proof that we are safe in His hands. Only faith can promise that. But there are those little reassurances. We must carve them into our hearts for safekeeping. We may need to draw on them for the real challenges of life. Our God is the same, yesterday, today, and tomorrow. God is good. All the time.

Today, be aware.
God’s Life floods your heart.
It’s always Raining Grace.

I came home from church that Sunday not in my Sunday best. Oh, my clothes were okay, but my adolescent heart was in tatters. I’d been praying for a family member for months, seemingly to no avail. The Gospel reading that day had been about Jesus calming the sea, but I had missed the boat. Christ’s power with the wind didn’t peace amid the storms in my soul.

A friend had recently told me that the ancient practice of visualizing Scripture stories had given her a thirst for the Bible she had never known before. Could my imagination help me take a story I’d heard umpteen times and get something new from it, or renew something old and somehow lost within me? My doubting mind and mood said, definitely not! But I was desperate.

First, I reread that Sunday’s Gospel. As expected, it did nothing for me. Then, as my friend had instructed, I asked the Holy Spirit to direct my prayer. I confessed my inability to feel prayerful and my need for help. Still doubtful, I closed my eyes. Help came. The Spirit of God is incredibly creative! (Duh)

The Senses of the Imagination  I began to use all of my senses to imagine as vividly as possible what I might have heard, seen, smelled, tasted, and felt if I had been with Jesus in the boat that day. I experienced the assault of the wet wind, the rocking of the boat, the smell of the salty, fishy air around me. The vessel was swaying so violently that with each tilt it picked up buckets of water.

The anger I’d been feeling all week turned into its original, root emotion—fear! Are we in this world alone? At the mercy of chaotic forces around us? Is God paying attention to our plight?

I turned to see Jesus, who sat in the back of the boat—sleeping! “Wake up!” I pleaded.

The World Was Unplugged  Jesus stood, lifted His arms, and brought utter calm to the waves. He stilled the wind. It was as if time stopped. The world was unplugged. I had never heard a silence so complete in my life. Yet, at the same time, the stillness was somehow alive, filled with Divinity.

Then Jesus stood near me, looked into my eyes for an eternal moment, and asked, “Why are you so afraid? Do you yet have no faith?” I suddenly awakened, keenly aware–God had not changed.

The God who had been with me through every stormy moment was there. As always. In ALL ways–PRESENT.

I had nothing to fear from the tempests in my life. I knew the power of God once again, on a deeper level, and I saw the power of Spirit-led creative, imaginative prayer. God would build on that experiential knowledge of the power of the imagination years later when I found myself happily immersed in the spirituality of St. Ignatius of Loyola. To find out more about spirit led prayer, click here.

My prayer for you–today, be aware.

God’s Life floods your heart.

It’s always Raining Grace.

A True Story

(All names have been changed to preserve confidentiality.)

My husband and I, lay chaplain volunteers, entered Carolyn’s room with care, not wanting to awaken her if she were napping. We’ve grown to love all the “regulars” we visit, yet we can’t help but have favorites now and then, and Carolyn was a favorite.

We’d just come in from a surprisingly cold Texas day, and Carolyn reached out to warm my hands, rubbing them and pulling them under her soft San Antonio blanket. Carolyn was in her late 80s and always reminded me of my mom in Ohio.

At the end of a delightful visit, we assured Carolyn we’d be back the next week. “I’m going home!” she said joyfully, without hesitation. We shared her excitement and were enveloped in her sweet good-bye hugs.

The following week, we missed seeing Carolyn’s name on the door. We visited with the new resident, Beth, who, as a new arrival, needed ears to listen, hearts to understand, and people of faith to support her.

After our visit, we checked with the nurse in the hallway, asking if Carolyn had left for San Antonio happily. “No,” she said with a curious look. “Carolyn went Home-home.”

It wasn’t the first time our faith had soared and deepened through our ministry. People in our world often need to turn to their faith to cast out fear. Time and time again, we’ve seen that it will – that it does.

Today, be aware.
God’s Life floods your heart.
It’s always Raining Grace.