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The Goodness Story

Goodness

Karen and Sharon

There’s power in story.

“Two babies?” The surprise birth of twin girls. My parents didn’t know. The doctor didn’t know.

But God knew my sister and me from the beginning. As He knit us together in the womb, He began writing our story.

Double bottles, double diapers, double everything, including double trouble.

But one day there would be a double blessing.

My Story

Events shape our stories. Words frame our perspective. Yet our hearts reflect.

  • Event: Our parents part ways and we stay with our mother. For a few years, my father is absent from my story. Heart Reflection: Am I lovable? 
  • Words (from a teacher): “That’s not good enough.” Heart Reflection: Am I good enough?
  • Event and Words: My father, an atheist, comes back into my life proclaiming, “There’s not a God.” Heart Reflection: Is there a God? Am I good enough for God to love me?
  • Words (promising rewards): “If you’re good, then you can….” Heart Reflection: disappoint her. I let him down.

At sixteen, my sister and I met the one true God—this was the double blessing. God’s real and He loves me. I became acquainted with God as my heavenly Father. In knowing God, I discovered attributes of His character.

God is hope. God is just. God is holy. God is love. God is good.

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July 28, 2016 at 8:30 am | Uncategorized


0

Stuff of Earth

I’m traveling to a writers conference today, She Speaks, to meet with publishers and attend sessions. Excited to introduce you to a talented writer friend for today’s guest post. I know you will enjoy his heart. Karen

By Paul Phillips

__________

The stuff of earth competes
For the allegiance
I owe only to the Giver
Of all good things.  *

stuffI have known the little boy’s father since he was the same age his son is today. The boy is not so different from his father.

The lad’s father and grandfather have come to haggle over a guitar. I will ask a price and they will offer much less. Sooner or later, we’ll meet somewhere in the middle. Or not. Most times, we get there.

Dickering takes time, so as we haggle, the lad, perhaps three years old, sits down to play at the little table we keep for just such occasions. He selects a set of toys, a variant of Legos called Duplos, to work with.

The centerpiece is a train track, along with the components for an engine and freight car. Most of the children especially like the little human figure which can fit on top of the engine—looking, to their young eyes, like a real engineer.

With a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his big eyes, the child begins to build his railroading empire.

He is content. At least, that is what I believe.

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July 21, 2016 at 9:00 am | Uncategorized


4

The Nose Snubbers Club: Members Wanted

Club, courtesy of Pexels/CanvaFounding of this club dates back to the beginning. When God said, “Let us make man.” (See Genesis 1:26.)

If we spent more time conducting surprise inspections on our own barracks, we could measure ourselves against the standard of Scripture instead of gauging by comparison.

It wasn’t a military barrack inspected by a drill sergeant. Still, a huge honor to win the cleanest barracks award for cabin inspection at camp. Especially for neat freaks.

Founding Club Member

I like things in order. A place for everything and everything in its proper place. According to Karen’s standard. My house will never appear on the cover of Southern Living. But I’m not at peace with an undone house. Beds unmade. Clothes and shoes in disarray. Dirty bathroom and kitchen. I admit, I’ve snubbed my nose at a few unkept houses along the way. Even my own.

During hectic seasons in my life, I contemplated hiring a maid service to clean our home. It never happened. This housekeeper’s problem? Before the help arrived, I’d want to pick up and clean.

Not wanting someone—whose job is to clean—to see my dirty floors or windows. God help me if they noticed the refrigerator with rotten food, or worse, sticky residue on every shelf from a sugary juice spill. A mess no one cleaned up. Not even the someone who likes things clean. The prideful shame of a dirty rotten mess.

I couldn’t let go of appearances for appearance sake.

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July 14, 2016 at 10:25 am | Uncategorized


2

I Need to Borrow Superman’s Cape

Cape, courtesy of Canva.com

Sometimes a girl just needs to borrow Superman’s cape. Any girls or guys relate?

Shoulders back. Head and chin up. I trust it will fit.

A few heroines sport capes too. However, those won’t do. There’s a need to stand tall. To fly. To take on something bigger than my wildest dreams and shoot for the moon. I’ve never hit the moon.

But, a daily selection of wrinkle-free capes already hang in my wardrobe.

My Capes

Independent cape: You won’t find want-ads in the local newspaper. I work alone. I’m not part of a superhero team. No sidekicks or aspiring heroes necessary. Besides, I can save myself, save you, and save the day.

Comic book cape: My life’s captured and illustrated on colorful pages. Children and collectors everywhere marveled at my cape-wearing stories. I performed heroic feats and villain knock-outs then received the adoration. Hero worship.

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July 7, 2016 at 10:27 am | Uncategorized