Reflections are a chronicle of our personal journeys in relationship with God and others. These stories illustrate the breadth and depth of the Christian experience, and we offer them to you for encouragement and inspiration in your own journey.
It’s my stomach that always wakes me up. Whenever I’m bothered by something, invariably I end up awakened in the night with my stomach in knots. Over time, I’ve learned that the only remedy is to talk with God about it while I journal.
We were living life together, enjoying one another on a beautiful day. We were celebrating a wondrous little life, and I was envisioning many more events to come. It filled my heart with gratitude that God has brought our two families together, and it gave me hope that we can be a part of bringing a larger circle of people together as well.
It is fear--in the old sense of awe--that allows us to recognize the holy in our midst, fear that gives us courage to listen, and to let God awaken in us capacities and responsibilities we have been afraid to contemplate.
Last week marked the thirteenth year since that terrible September day in 2011. Each anniversary as the horrific images once again scroll across computer and TV screens I am profoundly reminded of the grief and loss.
I went on a personal silent retreat recently. I set aside a couple of days to step away from the activity of my everyday life, so that I could instead spend all time focused on being with God, like when Jesus would go into lonely places to pray to the Father.