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Eggs and underpants

An eggcellent tradition

A few years back our honorary son and his girlfriend called us up asking if we had plans for one of the days of Easter break. They were free from college courses and wanted to come over and love on “their” younger siblings. For us the definition of family is those who we choose to love. I think Jesus would be okay with that definition. Josh had been a part of our kid’s lives since they were teeny, and after Reed’s death and later Andy’s death, he had assumed the role of oldest brother in this family. It was something for which we are forever grateful.

That call led to an epiphany moment, “Would you want to dye eggs with the kids?”. Always up for an adventure, Josh and Nicole both happily agreed. Egg-dyeing is one of those traditions that was hard to go back to after losing a child. So began the new tradition. Since that first year, we have had many memories as we embraced all of Josh’s extended family into the tradition. We have had stuff stuck in trees (long story), splatter painted sheets with leftover egg dye, and gotten downright funky in our egg-dyeing techniques.

This year was no exception. While we missed two members of our merry band, the rest of us – nine total – gathered around a table first for dinner, and then for the annual egg-dyeing eggstravaganza! When we broke bread (yes- the homemade kind), we read from a devotional that shared about Good Friday. It was divinely appointed that all of our birds (white pigeons which resemble doves) flew out of the cote exactly at the moment we read, “It is finished.” John 19:30 (NIV)

The thought of those sweet words being a Victory shout brought tears to the eyes of a few of us at the table. Never had I thought of those final words as victorious. It was a humbling moment for my heart.

After supper we were up to our elbows in eggs – eight dozen to be exact. We did try old favorites of using those hole protector stickers to create designs on the eggs. Who knew we had so many white crayons? We upped the ante by using electrical tape for some pretty bold geometric shapes and designs. Erin even pulled off a methodical and tedious checkerboard pattern using that same tape on one egg.

Once the last egg was dyed, the laughter and creativity lived on. Since our yard still had quite a bit of snow cover and I did not want Easter egg colored dogs, the sheet idea was O-U-T! (Sometimes a momma just has to put her foot down.) I remembered that we had some small blank canvases in the basement art stash. The wheels began to turn.

Out came the stickers and one canvas! Next came the paintbrushes . . . followed by a big dose of creativity. Everyone painted a small area, and in the end it was a beautiful group art piece.

What was even more beautiful was the creation of our hearts. Even though all present miss Reed, we have been able to go beyond the societal definition, and rise from the ashes of tragedy to create a masterpiece of enormous proportions – a family.

The link to our devotion:

http://odb.org/2013/03/29/shout-of-triumph/

The breaking of bread

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homemade bread and grape juice for Easter

I have survived the Crash of 2013. Never heard of it, you say? Well, I guess you probably haven’t. My personal computer died a slow death. I fought a valiant fight of frugality, but in the end, I had to purchase a new one. They surely aren’t made like old Betsy. I love that old gal – my 1968-ish Singer sewing machine. But I digress . . . I have lots I want to share. I apologize ahead of time that my blogs this week will seem a little outdated due to my lack of technology. I considered archiving them for a year, but I feel God has given them to me to write. So, write I shall.

Long ago as a new bride, the church we were attending held special events during Holy Week. One of those special events was the Thursday night service: The Blessing of the Breads. Each year, the church leadership asked ladies to make a special recipe of unleavened bread which makes about 8 loaves per batch. They call upon members to make the bread and bring it to the service to be blessed. Afterwards, each family (or individual) is given a loaf to take home and to remember Good Friday in their own homes, reflecting on the Last Supper Jesus had with his followers.

Growing up in a different faith, the whole idea was quite mystical to me. I had never paid any attention to the fact that bread was the food item that Jesus chose to represent the brokenness of His body. As I grew older I began to realize that every culture on earth has some form of bread. Using bread to share the story of Jesus life and death would be symbolic to every person in the entire world. To me, that is something quite incredible to ponder.

Even though I had been living on my own for almost 3 years prior, it came as quite a shock when the sweet, little, white-haired lady of the kitchen circle called me – a very new “grown-up” – to be one of the bakers. I was giddy with excitement and a tad bit nervous too. What if I messed up God’s bread? I love to cook and to experiment; so onward we went. Turns out it wasn’t that difficult of a recipe and we created pretty nice little loaves.

I remember the aura that travelled with us as we walked to the tiny off-white stucco church that evening with our basket of bread, nurturing it until we placed it on the altar. When we left the service that night, we took one of our own lovingly-made loaves back home with us. There was something quite calming in the ritual.

Twenty years later, the breaking of the bread is still a tradition in our family. We make the same bread each Easter, a tradition that we cherish. The well-worn and tattered recipe is the same one we now share with our current church family each time we have communion. Definitely one, I wish to pass down to my children and grandchildren, when I become the white haired Jesus lady.

Truthfully, I am transported back to that precious phone call each time I mix up a batch. I am filled with the same feeling of being loved and valued as someone who can offer comfort, even it is just a simple round of unleavened bread. And that is the yummiest of feelings!

The day I had wine with Jesus

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A few years ago, my family took a spring break trip to Florida to visit my sister and brother-in-law. It was a mild winter, but the warmth and the Florida sun (which I miss most days) were welcome hosts. We had plans to attend one of the theme parks, and I REALLY wanted to go to the Holy Land Experience (which for lack of a better description is a theme park without rides). I learned about HLE the year before when we were stuck in traffic trying to get to dress fittings for my sister’s wedding. My Nannie bursting with joy said, “I really want to go there someday!” (Sadly, she never did, but she walks the streets of gold today.)

We were just going to go for the morning, but we kept finding more shows or more things to see and do that we stayed the whole day. Our party included three generations who all enjoyed themselves. I didn’t really intend for this to be a travelogue; so, you will have to check out the website if you want to learn more.

Our visit coincided with Easter week. We had heard over the radio and internet to arrive early that they were expecting record attendance for such an important week for Christians. They were not wrong, but my fear of crowds didn’t really overwhelm me there. (The theme park was another story.)

As today we mark the anniversary of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples, I wanted to share my experience of dining with Jesus. At HLE, one of the opportunities you have is to have communion with “Jesus” – an actor who humbly takes on that role. My inner skeptic was a little leery, but from the moment I stepped inside the cave style dwelling, my imagination allowed me to transport myself to a time many years ago. Each person – man, woman, and child – is given a beautiful little cup carved from olive wood from the actual Holy Land (not the one in downtown Orlando).

“Jesus” talks with everyone, engaging both in his words and his eyes. He literally serves you bread and wine, and he blesses everyone there as he prays for the group as a whole. It was a mesmerizing experience – one that my children recall fondly. I remember having tears in my eyes because I knew that this actor was soon to be playing His role in the Passion. I knew the story by heart before that encounter, but it felt so much more real knowing that the “Jesus” with me was soon to be handed over.

Most of the other souvenirs from that trip have either been outgrown or garage sale fodder, but not those little wooden cups. We each still have them and lovingly we bring them out each Easter as a remembrance of the time we had wine with Jesus.

Precious memories. . . indeed!

Jesus and his peeps

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Jesus & Judas – I found this picture on hypervocal.com. I would love to credit the original creator. It is not listed on their site and it is stunning work.

When Clo was just over a year old, Reed taught her to say “What up my peeps?”. Seeing that curly-headed bundle of sweetness toddle around saying such a thing made anyone within earshot burst into laughter. It was one of the first things my future brother-in-law heard my kids say. Big brothers, argh!

A quick look at my Facebook account reveals that I am just shy of my own 400 peeps. (I’m not actually counting, and I had to go look it up.) I have been blessed with such amazing friends that my cup runneth over. Some of the KF’s (Kandy’s Friends) I have only met once and others I have never met in person but business dealings have connected us across the miles. I epitomize the saying that it isn’t what you have but who you have in your life. A closer look would find that there is an inner sanctum – the tight circle of besties that are there for me before I even need to send out the bat signal. Yet missing in that number are a few who have brought me heartache through the years, and though I have forgiven them I just haven’t been able to stick my heart back into their drama. For some of those relationships it took me years to realize that we weren’t good for each other. I read a book once that in a nutshell brought relief to this girl’s heart and soul. The author relayed that God calls us to forgive those that hurt us, but He doesn’t call us to live with basement dwellers – those that perpetually bring us down. That simple statement was freeing to me.

A while back I went with a friend whom I admire to our church’s regional women’s leadership conference. One of the speakers was a really young priest (I forget which denomination), but she was a dynamic speaker. She spoke on the thousands that came to see Jesus, but that mostly he was surrounded by a group of close friends. Later, she talked about those hurts committed against us by those closest to us. This is something that I really understand. What came out of her mouth next totally shocked me. “Jesus gets it. He gets when someone you love lets you down and hurts you deeply. Remember – here she paused and lowered her voice – he only ended with 11 friends because one of them (Judas) defaulted.”

What did she just say? Her words rained down like a soothing balm to my soul. The point of her talk was a reminder to take our hurts before the Lord of Lords because he understood hurt and betrayal. I love Jesus, and I love “talking” to Him, but never once in forty years had I thought about that He too was let down by his friend. And not just once either – Thomas doubted, Peter denied and those are only the examples of the ones we know about.

Jesus laughed and cried with his friends (not just the disciples). The sweetest verse to me is John 11:35 Jesus wept (NIV) when he learned of his friend Lazarus death. That verse reminds me that he did hurt emotionally. His heart leapt when He celebrated with His friends. He rejoiced. He attended weddings and parties, and He stayed up late just talking with His friends. He also retreated, prayed, rested, and loved.

Hey – wait a minute! We do all those same things, but seldom do we stop and think that Jesus – in His humanness – did a lot of stuff with his friends just like us. Why did I never stop to think that he too was hurt by them as well? As Easter is approaching, we remember that Jesus was fully God and that he took on the sins of the world, but we forget that he was also fully human, feeling the same things you and I experience.

He was wounded by humanity, but his heart was wounded by one close to him first. Simply the sweet little priest was right; Jesus gets it. When we are hurt or wounded, we really can turn to him. He’s there with open arms and listening ears. Although, I don’t think he would really say it, it might be easier to reach out if we envision him saying, “What up my peep?” You never can tell . . .

The thing about leprechauns

Bling it on!

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I like comfort anything. Comfort foods, comfort quilts, comfort footwear – all of them rate very highly in my daily existence. I love boutique shopping, but more often than not, you can find me in a favorite t-shirt and jeans. Even though I am really into comfort, aside from gardening season, I really enjoy having well done nails. I cherish being unique in my style, and for an outfit to really be mine, it has to involve something animal print, from the ocean, from the heart, or something with a touch of bling.

I was blessed with the best mother-in-law in the entire world. I love her, but if she were to have a signature look it would not include any of my pizazz. Jeans, t-shirts, and sweatshirts are her daily uniform – but no embellishments and definitely no bling. I adore her and there isn’t much that she does that anyone could improve upon.

That was until . . . yesterday. My mom-in-law is like the Pied Piper of children, and one of her tried and true tips is to always have play dough on hand. Of course, it is the homemade kind that is so much better than store bought. She has an entire corner of her kitchen dedicated to all things play dough. Over the years some additions have been made to her recipe like using Kool-Aid packets instead of food coloring for tint. I even once added essential oils as an experiment for aromatherapy dough. (It worked, but we never repeated it. I have to say lemon dough was pretty amazing. )

As we were preparing for St. Patrick’s Day, I just couldn’t help myself. I decided to attempt something I had seen on the internet somewhere (my friends would tell you probably Pinterest) by embellishing Grandma’s Dough in honor of our good friends the leprechauns. We made the recipe below as usual, but as we were cooking on the stove we added 2 tablespoons of gold glitter. I, of course, loved it as did my little shadow who also has a penchant for all things fuzzy and bling-y.

She thought it was much too wonderful to keep to ourselves; so, we made a bag for her friend and a bag for the leprechauns (more on that tomorrow).

Some days, I feel as if childhood is becoming an endangered species in this country. I will do anything possible to keep that magic alive. I want my kids to be kids as long as they can. Honestly, though, I am not sure who had more fun making sparkly dough. I think it would be a tough call.

Long live imaginations including hers!

Grandma’s Play Dough recipe (Kid tested and approved!)

Heat burner to medium.

1 cup flour, 1/2 cup salt, 2 tsp cream of tartar, 2 Tsp cooking oil, 1 cup water, food coloring or Kool-Aid mix, 2 Tsp glitter (We used gold, but my imagination tells me that faeries might like purple.)

Mix water and food coloring or Kool-Aid mix.

Stir this and other ingredients together in a saucepan.

Put on burner, stirring 3 to 4 minutes until mixture looks like stiffly mashed potatoes.

Allow to cool and then enjoy!

Sweet Grace: hope-filled

~ Real women ~ Real lives ~ Sweet Grace ~

As a little girl, Easter was always my favorite holiday. I enjoyed Christmas, but Easter always made my heart just jump for joy. I loved picking out the perfect Easter dress, bonnet, shoes, and those oh so adorable white gloves. I still love gloves today. There is just something so genteel about little white gloves. Growing up down South, we had egg hunts outside and sunrise services where we didn’t freeze to death. When Easter morning arrived, I could hardly contain my excitement. The items in my basket were always good, but for me the pure joy came when we stepped through the doors of our white church. He is risen! He is risen indeed! Those hope-filled phrases were used in place of hello, and they echoed from every corner of the sanctuary. Christmas is wonderful, but it if you want to see joyful Christians come to church early on Easter morning. I like contemporary Christian music, but I was raised on good old Southern gospel hymns. Each Easter, joy and hope exuded from every pore as we sang “Because He Lives” and “Christ the Lord is Risen Today”. Even today, I still get goose bumps when I hear the organ roll leading into the chorus of “Up from the Grave He Arose”.

Easter is the definition of HOPE. Maybe not according to Webster’s, but it really should be. Recently, I have been grappling with the reality of Easter. For any believer who has lost someone, the significance of Easter is a clinging hope. The only hope that makes sense. It is the promise that through Christ’s sacrifice, we will see those loved ones again. His incredible gift to humanity has made that possible. When I was a little girl singing with her church family, I would often get choked up on Easter morning. The chocolate bunnies and Peeps were nice, but even then I realized that someone gave his life for me. Lately, my conflict has been are we recognizing what Jesus really did? He didn’t just give up extra cream in his latte or get bumped off a flight. He gave his life in a cruel, brutal and foretold way so that we could know the lavish depth of His Father’s love. If you have ever felt unloved, this is why you shouldn’t. He loved you enough to go through with the most horrific of deaths. If you ever feel left out or rejected, please know that he chose me (and you and everyone else) – loved me enough to lay down his life. But even more significantly, he would have done it even if I was the only one who needed to be saved, and that alone fills my heart with hope.

Family Cooking: Easter Bread Nest

oneperfectbite.blogspot.com

This has been a gift for several years from our friend, Karla Adams. She is an amazing cook, seamstress, volunteer, and friend. Actually, I don’t know much she isn’t good at. Kandy’s kiddos have always loved when the Easter “knock” comes and there she is with the gift of this bread. It always looks beautiful on our Easter table. Delicious, fun, and something the whole family will love.

Ingredients:

2 Frozen loaves bread

5 raw eggs

Food coloring

Powdered sugar frosting

Dye eggs with food coloring. Add food coloring to 1/2 c water. Dye as desired. DO NOT boil eggs first.

When bread is thawed and just starting to rise, make into ropes of dough. You will have 2 long ropes. Take the ropes and twist them together. Place on a greased cookie sheet. Shape into a circle and pinch the end together to form this circle. Place the dyed eggs into the braided gaps. This will look funny at first. But as the bread rises it will look more like a nest.

Spray dough with cooking spray. Try not to spray eggs. Place a flour sack towel over it. When bread has doubled in size, bake @ 350 for 25– 30 minutes or until golden brown.

Cool completely. Drizzle with powdered sugar frosting. Leave it white or color it. Sprinkle with Easter colored M&M’s or robin egg candies.

NOTE: Before making the ropes I like to roll out each loaf of bread and add some butter and sugar with cinnamon. This gives it a little extra look and taste.

February Challenges: The February newsletter’s theme was love. We encouraged our readers to Did you love your neighbors? Did you encourage a young person last month? If so we would love to hear from you.

The best laid plans . . . well, we didn’t get the neighborhood soup night accomplished. The mission/tagline of this ministry ~ Real women ~ Real lives ~ Sweet Grace isn’t just something we say, but it is how we really operate on a daily basis. We want to be genuine and real, even when we come up short on goals. Instead of soup night, we cleared snow off of driveways following a recent snow storm. Our neighbors who were out of town returned home to clean driveways and were able to just relax. I did accomplish the writing of letters for challenge #2. I chose six teenagers to write letters of encouragement and told how proud I was of them. Most importantly, I told them how I was glad they were in my children’s lives. After I had mailed them, I told my kiddos that I had done it, in case any of the recipients said anything to them. A few did, and I received a call from one mom. The best was the one who caught my eye (didn’t say anything), but made sure I noticed her after the school band concert. It felt really good to do it. So much so, that I think it is going to become a habit.

Making hope a habit is the lesson from our guest writer this month. Our friend, Fay Prairie has blessed us with a great piece on choosing hope. Fay is a speaker, writer, counselor, wife, mom, and friend. You can learn more about her at her website http://www.fayprairie.com/ I have enjoyed getting to know her, and she has been a huge encouragement to me as I have decided to follow God’s leading in forming all of this.

Hope Can Advance Your Life

Life is full of uncertainties, disappointments, and moments of despair. However, even when times get difficult and intimidating, as long as we keep hope alive, we can continue to move forward with confidence.

When you have hope, you believe and have faith that things will get better and you will persevere. Hope is a powerful attitude which opens doors where despair slams them shut.

The Webster definition of hope is the “feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best” or the “feeling that something desired may happen.”

How does hope help us in our life?

1. Hope helps us to feel stronger. When we truly believe things will get better, we are willing to do whatever it takes. With hope we can look to the future with confidence and excitement, and we can begin to do more than we ever imagined.

2. Hope helps us focus on the positive. Whatever we focus on grows. When we maintain our focus on the positives in our life, more positive things come into our life. Hope allows us to look forward to all the wonderful things in life.

3. Hope helps us envision possibilities and solutions There will always be difficulties, but hope helps us to visualize good outcomes. It allows us to expect good things to happen.

4. Hope gives us the desire to learn and grow. Hope helps us regain interest and get involved more fully in life. By growing as a person we will make improvements that lead to greater life-satisfaction and well-being.

5. Hope helps us to take an empowered view toward life. A hopeful attitude helps us see the best, work for the best, and, ultimately, experience the best in life. Hope increases our joy, courage and level of success in life.

No matter what you face in life, always think hopefully, speak hopefully, work hopefully, and act hopefully. Do all you can to make hope a daily habit. Remind yourself that regardless of what happens in your life, you always have the option to choose hope.

Family Traditions

For the last few years, Kandy’s and Brenda’s families have gotten together to dye Easter eggs. We all look forward to it. Last year, I think we dyed eight dozen eggs. We decided the four dozen from the year before just wasn’t enough. Everyone gets involved. There is a lot of creativity – including planning for the next time we do this. Conversations of I saw this cool idea in Martha Stewart magazine or on Pinterest come up more than once. We dream, we plan, but mostly we laugh. I don’t think anything tops the laughter from the year we created a mural with the left over dye. After admiring everyone’s creations, we lamented about how the dye was just going to go to waste. As a teacher, I am always up for a new experiment. With a twinkle in my eye, I ran downstairs and grabbed an old white sheet that was destined to become a plant protector when the fall frosts threatened my garden. We took those coffee cups filled with dye and splatter painted that sheet. It was amazing. It was so much fun that it lands up there with catching fireflies, playing in the sprinkler, and running to meet the ice cream truck for this Southern girl. Of course, the most laughter came after the sheet dried and we noticed the now Easter dyed lawn. Oh well, a little collateral damage was worth the fun we had.

We would love to hear of your families Easter traditions. Please respond to this post with what Easter traditions you and your family hold dear.

Family Easter Garden

We decided to see repeat a blog from last year because it was such a wonderful activity that our whole family enjoyed. Our littlest one took pride each day in spritzing the garden with water. As the garden grew, she delighted in trimming the lawn with scissors.

http://kandynolesstevens.com/2012/04/02/easter-countdown-part-1-johnathan-has-a-starring-role/

March Encouragement

Spend a few minutes each day in the next week, praying and asking God to bring to mind one – just one – person that you can bring hope. Often in life, it is the small things that bring the most hope. Once you know who that person is do one small thing for them – write a note, send flowers, drop by for a visit, make a call, make a meal, do a chore. Just do something, and leave a message of hope. If you feel comfortable, you can tell the recipient you were the hope-filled giver. We would love to hear what you decide to do.

Ministry Update

We are proud to announce that we have partnered with 5j Design LLC to design our logo and website to help us basically help ourselves (when we are way over our heads technically speaking). They are assisting us in developing a better way to reach others with the message of God’s grace and love. In the coming months, we should have a new website with a more streamlined method of communicating with our friends and churches. The story of how we found Jake and Zach is an amazing God story, but just know He is looking out for us. Based on guidance from our friends at 5J Design, we have made one small change in our ministry. Watch for the unveiling of that change in the coming days.

We wait with hope for spring filled days where we can sit on the deck, sipping sweet tea and chatting. Until then, we would love to chat with you.

Kandy & Brenda

Romans 15:13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. (NIV)

Surgery No. 7

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Middle of the night,

Sleep wouldn’t come.

I looked for you there, snuggled in my bed, calling out Your name.

I lay there waiting for Your peace, hoping Your loving hands would wrap around me with the message,

“Daughter, I am here. Your boy will be just fine. He, too, is in my hands.”

I rested knowing that I know You heard my pleas.

Routine as normal – dogs, breakfast, school.

Our other routine – surgery prep came next.

Pack, prepare, read, re-read, do anything however small to take your mind off what comes next.

The clock ticks slowly, but it now says it is time to go.

My momma heart aches. I know this is going to hurt.

If he’s afraid, he doesn’t show it. Once again, he is comforting me.

Thank you, God, that this time . . . this time the surgery is on our home turf.

We aren’t splintered as a family.

Again, I wanted to feel your peace.

After necessary paperwork to the surgical suite we go.

I found You there.

as our pastor was praying with someone else.

A gentle reminder that we are not the only ones that hurt.

Off we go to his room.

I have to smile because maybe it should have our name on it because it is the room I had in the fall.

Stevens Family Surgical Suite

By now, our new family tradition is trips to hospitals with March being our “celebration” month.

Three of the seven surgeries took place in March.

Questions

Yeah, whatever!

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Yesterday, I wrote about the blessing of friendship. Over the weekend, my pastor spoke about having friends who love us enough to offer reproof. You know the type of friends who see we are doing something wrong and who are bold enough to say it.

Faithful are the wounds of a friend. Proverbs 27: 6a (NASB)

Ouch! I don’t think I had ever really dissected that verse. Reliable, faithful friends. Check! I’ve got those. Friends who point out what I don’t like to hear. Yep! I’ve got those too. I have a couple friends who God’s mission for their lives must be to point out whenever I’ve said “Yes” once too many times. Do I like it? Not usually. Do I make excuses? Absolutely! Do I know they are right? Yes, and eventually, I accept that they have offered sage advice. There is always the one friend, however faithful, that just comes right out and says it like it is.

After my pastor drew attention to that verse on Sunday, I was immediately transported back to a day about a week ago. That day we received some unsettling news, and there was an big evening event at our school I was to attend. I chose to stay home to be quiet and crochet. After a while, I received a text from THAT friend.

Where are you?

I didn’t feel well. Chose to stay home. I’m watching Matlock & crocheting.

Dan said you were under the weather.

Yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted a quiet night at home.

Yeah, whatever! I don’t believe you. What is really going on?

What just happened here? She saw right through my smoke screen, and she called me on it. Since she was sitting in the bleachers surrounded by my husband and many of our friends, I sent her the honest answer, but prefaced it with a “DO NOT FREAK OUT! I will call you tomorrow.” text. Then I proceeded to tell her that we learned that Sawyer was going to need another surgery. I always knew it might have to happen, but I just wasn’t ready for it yet.

It was going to be surgery – number 7, and another one in March. This month has not-so-affectionately become surgery month for our boy. I hate it, and I just needed a night to process it. I think if I had gone to the school and anyone even looked at me, I would have cried. I couldn’t bring myself to put on a happy face. Instead, I chose to stay home and surround myself with comforting things – old quilts, old crafts, and old shows. The whole time I sat at home wishing this wasn’t our life, and wishing I could I wish it all away.

In reality, even though I was trying to hide from the world, God knew exactly what was going on. He wasn’t fooled for a minute. His awareness of my sadness is most likely what caused my friend to basically say, “Cut the crap. I don’t know what’s going on, but you are NOT fine.” Faithful are the wounds of a friend.

Her “wounds” allowed me to open up and share with her and several others about what my tomorrow holds. Her “wounds” allowed me to face my fears, but more importantly, it reminded me of the heart of this verse. Friends who say it like it is do so because they love us. They remind us that even if we feel isolated, we are never really alone.

Sweet Grace Blog

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Author Archives: admin

Eggs and underpants

An eggcellent tradition

The breaking of bread

The day I had wine with Jesus

Jesus and his peeps

The thing about leprechauns

Bling it on!

Surgery No. 7

Yeah, whatever!