Q: Does prayer really work? My, I see this question frequently online. The person asking probably wants proof that God heard — because she didn’t get what she requested. However, as I research history, I find stories that indicate communication goes much deeper than that...
When Was the Last Time You Ran a Love Tank Diagnostic? It had been a long day, at the end of a long weekend. It was nearly sunset as we made the hour-long trek down the twisting single lane mountain road. Bill noticed our engine gage warning lights flickered on, so we prayed as we made our way into the parking lot...
This month’s cover story isn’t just a profile. It’s just another whispered answer. An answer that hit me right where the Father has been reaching into me all along‚ in the many ways He shares His heart and direction with His children...
A few weeks ago, I was keynoting the Blue Lake Christian Writers Conference, reflecting on a remarkable revival sweeping through writers across our country...
Sharing our story is like sharing fruit: when it’s picked before it’s ripe, the full flavor and nutrition have not yet developed. If we wait, we are blessed...
As we celebrate America’s 250th anniversary, we should remember and honor the courageous and faithful women who made a difference. These include women who went undercover as spies at the peril of their lives and those who supplied funds, cared for soldiers, defended their homes, and ones who communicated to help shape public opinion.
While researching for my historical romance The Christmas Cherub, I discovered doctors in World War II used “battle fatigue” for what is now called post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The latter may be the proper medical term, but I relate to the older term, especially fatigue.
A surprising number of people are afraid to pray. They love God, but when it comes to talking to him, they freeze. They worry about praying “wrong,” stepping outside his will, or somehow offending him—as though God is scoring their performance. Out of fear, they offer him something he never asked for: prayerlessness. But prayerlessness is its own kind of silent treatment...
God gently interrupted me with a question that pierced deeper than the pain. “Why do you do what you do?” The question stayed with me for weeks. But the Lord was inviting me to something greater. He wanted me to understand that ministry isn’t just built on gifts, platforms, or conferences. It’s built on loving his people.
Here’s the thing: I almost gave up. Not because I didn’t know what I wanted to say, but because I got stuck between wanting to be teachable and knowing I had a mission that didn’t fit the template. It felt like sinking into a mud bath—uncomfortable, a little dirty, and I wasn’t sure if I was being cleansed or suffocated. But I had to sit there. I had to type out the conversations in my head. I had to let the discomfort do its work.