“Nobody likes me anymore,” my son shared as he stared at the bubbles in his bath. “I’m sure that’s not true,” I corrected him, “Why do you say that?” He proceeded to tell me how one boy calls his name every morning when he gets in class. When Colin answers him, this boy responds with idiot, shut up, dork, loser, or any other mean thing he can say.

“Then there is this other boy who drew my picture with poop on my head. The principal got really mad and said he would be in big trouble,” my first-born told me. I stood by the tub and listened to story after story of kids who had been mean to my eight-year-old. Colin doesn’t complain often, and I wondered how long this had been going on.

He spoke while I fought. Fought back tears. Fought back ugly retorts. Fought back the Mama-bear instinct to kill. How could kids be so mean? I wanted to snatch the brown-eyed boy out of that tub and squeeze him as much as I wanted to snatch the eyeballs out of those bullies’ heads.

“Colin,” I started slowly, choosing my words carefully, “you should be kind to everyone like the Bible tells us. But you don’t have to honor everyone with your friendship. You can be kind without being friends with those mean people.”

“But I like to be friends with everybody,” he swirled a Lego man around in circles as he talked.

“Well, you don’t really need to be. Those people are mean!” I could feel my skin prickle as I got upset.

“But Mama, I want to be just like Jesus. And when those people were so mean to Jesus by poking him with the sword and whipping him when he went on the cross, He just said, ‘Forgive them because they don’t know what they’re doing.’ So I’m just going to do that, too.”

I was speechless. When had the student become the teacher?

I left the room and wept. I wept with pride for my first-born child with the heart of gold. I wept for the Son who endured it all so that I might have eternal life. And then I wept for the mother of that Son. The one who had to watch, when all she wanted to do was protect her first-born.

When they came to the place called the Skull, there they crucified him, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots. Luke 22:33-34 NIV


Palm Sunday

The sound was deafening. Eager bodies pushed past to get a closer glimpse. Some threw palm branches down in the road – an ancient custom to honor one so great. Others laid their own garments in the dusty path.

As He approached on a borrowed donkey, those in the crowd shouted with jubilance, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

All who were near felt the presence of the Lord. One couldn’t help but shout praises and join in the joyful celebration.

But the political climate was unsteady. Jesus’ presence made others nervous. Some Pharisees made their way to Christ and thought they would admonish him and tame the crowds.

“Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” (Luke 19:39 NIV) They hissed, hoping to keep control.

“I tell you,” [Jesus] replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” (v.40)

As you begin this Holy Week, take time to reflect on the Christ’s great sacrifice. Read the Easter story with your family.

Here is a link to a fun cooking activity to do with kids. Who ever thought you could tell the Easter story while making cookies? Click HERE to give it a try.

Have a blessed week!



5 Minutes for Faith - Daily Devotions for Moms

You are lounging on the couch when the doorbell rings. Not expecting anyone, you are surprised and run to the door to see who is there. With windows running down either side of the door, you can easily view the visitor. But it is not just one. There are hundreds of visitors at your door…

Join me at 5 Minutes for Faith to read the rest of my devotion. Click HERE to read this retro post.


Not So Perfect

My daughter Faith brought me a pink piece of Hello Kitty notebook paper the other day. She had written out John 3:16 in its entirety. My heart burst with pride as I asked her if I could keep it. I placed it next to my computer and have looked at it for a week now.

In it, there are some lessons to be learned.

1. Give up perfect. Nothing and no one is without fault – except Jesus. It’s okay to do your best and not be flawless. Don’t let fear of failure stop you from trying. Faith didn’t let not knowing how to spell all the words slow her down. She went with what she did know, and that was John 3:16.

2. God DID love the world so much that He allowed His only Son to die for my sin – and yours.

3. WHOEVER believes in Him can have eternal life – not just the perfect people.

4. Give up perfect. Nothing and no one is without fault – except Jesus. It’s okay to do your best and not be flawless. Don’t let fear of failure stop you from trying…

Do you sense a theme here??

And this is what was on the other side…phew! That’s a whole other devotion!

(For those of you who can’t read inventive spelling, it says, “Bow Down and worship the Lord who deserves it.” She told me she just made this one up.)


To Feel Your Touch

Soft downy hair tickles my arm, and I watch as she wiggles, wavering between squeezing out a few more moments of playtime or succumbing to the heaviness falling on her lids. Her eyes blink slowly, and she smiles from behind a pink paci. The blink gets longer. I know it is coming, and I wait for it.

The wait isn’t long; seconds later her lids stay shut, and her arm rises and creeps closer until I feel tiny fingers walking up my face. Then she rubs. She grabs my chin, glides across my cheek, finds my nose, and goes back again. It’s a familiar dance. When my tiny daughter can’t see me anymore, she reaches out to feel me and make sure I’m there.

She and I are similar. I want to see God. Within the depths of my heart, there is a need to know He is nearby. In my Heavenly Father’s presence, I feel security. He has promised never to leave me or forsake me; even still, I struggle to close my eyes and stand on faith.

Like my infant child, I fight shutting my lids. I need to see God. I thrash about trying desperately not to lose sight. My Father is patient. He holds me in His embrace until finally, I relax and stand on the promises I know to be true.

When I can’t see God, I breathe in deep and feel His presence.

How about you? Are you walking in faith or are you depending on your sight? There are times when God is silent, and in that quiet, He calls us to a deeper place where we fully trust in Him. If you are struggling in your faith, close your eyes, breath in deep, and call to Him. He is there.

The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” Deuteronomy 31:8 NIV