Her name was Laura. She stood barely 3 feet tall, but I guess we all did in second grade…

When You Have Noting to Give. 

I had a vision once when I was in Mexico. It happened in the middle of the night when I had gotten up to use the bathroom. The moon was full over the desert ranch as I passed the window, and its light spilled a cascade of silver on my newly planted garden below. The tilled soil. The baby plants. All of the day’s labor. And somewhere in my mind, wherever visions are planted, I was barefoot in that garden.

YHWH: A Deep Sigh Calls HIS Name.

Some words stop me in my tracks. 

They have a way of affecting me deeply and changing the way I look at things—the way I look at life. 

Hope in the Disappointment.

He was the cutest boy I had ever seen. Three and a half feet tall. Baby brown eyes. He lived right across the playground and over the chain-link fence. Brett Elmblad … the name forever embedded in the recesses of my mind.

We’ve always told our youngest son the story of the day he turned three. He woke up that birthday morning down in Texas (during language school) and told my husband, Peter, he had a dream he could ride a two-wheeler bike. He asked his dad to get it out of storage so he could ride it.

When we came off the mission field after ten years on the ranch, our debrief coaches handed us two plastic ducks. The kind you had in the bathtub as a kid.

The road less traveled was the ranch road. Four miles of washboard sand through the high desert. An abandoned ranch. And nothing. How could we ever have imagined thousands would be impacted just by saying yes to God?