Category Archives: Trust

A hand to hold when you need it

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Enjoying the shade of a Sycamore tree

It had been ages since I went hiking.  I was on my first visit to Arizona, and was excited to see the local flora and fauna up close.  My brother and sister-in-law suggested an easy trail in a state park nearby.

Trying to avoid the heat, we embarked on a mostly-shaded path that wound near a stream.  I marveled at my first sight of a Sycamore tree and its pale jigsaw-puzzle bark.  My sister-in-law and I couldn’t resist breaking into an old Sunday School song:

“Zacchaeus was a wee little man; a wee little man was he. He climbed up in a Sycamore tree, for the Lord he wanted to see!”

I could visualize Zacchaeus scurrying up one of the sturdy appendages of a Sycamore tree to get a better view of Jesus.

A bit further, I posed by a massive Yucca plant, taking care to avoid its pointy leaves.  Later, I heard the grass rustle and caught a glimpse of a quick-moving lizard (I was glad it wasn’t a rattlesnake)!  As we rounded a bend, we came to a bridge and spotted several deer foraging along the creek bed.  IMG_20170522_104234 (2)

After quietly snapping a few photos, we finished the crossing.  Though it was a fairly long bridge, the sturdy guard rails made me feel secure.

The next bridge, however, was a different story. 

Continue reading →

God cares about the little things

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th[9]Sometimes it’s the little things that stress me out. . . like serving the perfect punch at a reception for my new boss.

I spent far too long sifting through recipes, trying to find a beverage that would be delicious, but easy to make.  A few of my brain cells got damaged while trying to calculate how many cups each one would make.

And then there was the question of how to serve it. . . use the beautiful decanter in the closet at work or go with traditional punch bowls?

(I know, I’m sounding like “Martha” in the “Mary and Martha” story.) [1]

I finally decided it would be easier to facilitate the beverage with punch bowls . . . (one could be out on the serving table while I prepared a second batch in the kitchen.)

Ah, but would there even be two punch bowls in my workplace’s kitchen by the time of the party?   I knew they had a way of disappearing. Continue reading →

A cancer survivor’s perspective: the difference between faith and trust

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My best friend from college, Kelly, is a two-time cancer survivor.  Breast cancer first struck her at the young age of 31.  Kelly was a mom of two small boys and a new missionary in Africa when she discovered a lump.  The diagnosis changed the course of her family’s lives, as they had to leave their overseas post and move back to the United States for Kelly’s treatment.

The dreaded disease returned fourteen years later.  This time, Kelly faced a much more aggressive treatment regimen, including a mastectomy and chemotherapy.  The side effects of chemo decimated her, both physically and emotionally.

In God’s mercy, she eventually recovered and has now been cancer-free for eight years.  Nevertheless, she understandably still battles anxiety when it’s time for her periodic checkups.  She knows there’s always a chance the doctor could deliver bad news. Continue reading →

Is singleness a tragedy?

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I finally got the courage to approve the comment.  It was written in response to a post I published some time ago about feeling left behind in the marriage department. The reader incorrectly interpreted that I was making light of my struggle, and wrote, “Please don’t refer to heartfelt sadness as a ‘pity party.’ To leave this earth without marriage and family is a tragedy for too many people.”

While she missed the overall intention of the post, which was to celebrate how God helped me focus on the blessings in my life, what continued to gnaw at me was her statement that being single is a tragedy.

If what she wrote is true, then nearly half of the adult population in the United States [1] are living  tragic lives.

To put it more bluntly, it means my life is a tragedy! Continue reading →

Breaking my white bubble

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NOTE: This post was written in 2016 during the time our nation was reeling over the police shootings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile.  I have re-posted it in on Facebook in June 2020 as our country reacts to the death of George Floyd.

A few weeks ago I was stuck behind a slow truck on my way to work.  When the truck finally turned off, the road opened up and I accelerated to make up a little time.  As I zoomed towards the railroad tracks, I glimpsed a police car out of the corner of my eye.  It was too late to slow down.  I knew I was busted.

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The patrol car’s lights began flashing the moment I whizzed by, and I dutifully pulled over to the shoulder. While the cruiser crept up behind me, I reached for my purse, preparing to pull out my driver’s license.  The officer approached my car and I rolled down my window.

The imposing man in blue bent over and said, “Oh, it’s you!”

“Hi,” I said sheepishly, recognizing him, too.  I knew the officer from when I had worked for the City several years earlier.

I reached for my driver’s license.  “Oh, put that away,” he said casually.  We chatted for a while and in what seemed like almost an afterthought, he said “and slow down.”

I drove off without a ticket, realizing I had been shown favor (he had said more than once that if an officer who didn’t know me had made the stop, I probably would have gotten a ticket.)

A few days later I was driving home from work and saw someone else stopped by a police car, not far from where I was pulled over.  It was a young black man, and two police officers were sitting in the patrol car behind him.

In light of recent national events, I couldn’t help but wonder—were both the driver and the officers on heightened alert and concerned for their safety?

Continue reading →