I’ve read many worldly thoughts about men and women lately, and I’m going to write truth...we are not the same in thinking, physicality, and emotions. We will never be, but that’s okay. God made us in different formats, So we can be formatted together perfectly.  We each have our own uniqueness, which brings a unified balance to relationships.  Men and women express emotions and grieve differently, but that’s okay. In 2008 I lost my dad to Cancer. After his passing, my mom and I talked about the memory of my dad. We cried amongst the days. My brother expressed his grief in a different way. He did not mention my dad for a few years, until he could cope with his mourning. He cried amidst the nights where darkness could hide his tears.  My mom didn’t push my brother into a realm of emotion he did not inherit. She waited patiently for him to “come into the sunlight”.  The emotions of men are stately subtle. They firmly stand, watching sorrows, with dewed eyes.  Wome...

Recently, my husband and I strolled Downtown Thibodaux.  We caught a storybook glimpse of a squirrel eating seeds in a Magnolia tree, then came across a historic mailbox. It “cat-pawed” my Alice in Wonderland curiosity, so I took a picture. The washed-out color of olden times drenched the mailbox in rust.  I thought to myself...are we all in or out of the mailbox of true Christianity? Today’s world has become more “open-minded” to veiled sin. They are condoning unstamped letters of promiscuity that have slipped into society.   As Christ followers, we need to think of ourselves as letters that have been sealed with righteousness.  Are you being fully slipped into the mailbox with a boldness or are you being jiggled in halfway, falling to the world?  Are you being stamped with truth or unstamped with a holy vagueness? Are you being slipped into the mailbox with a fervor or being finicky and falling to dirt-like debauchery.  Is your le...

Well, I just dropped off our last rent check.  The last check signed and dated “the next adventure awaits”. The last check signifying another daisy stem added to the marriage bouquet. As the years dew drop by, each chime vines and intertwines around a marriage. New nuances and friendly nostalgic moments add ponder peonies, romantic roses, and baby’s breath to the marriage bouquet. We are adding a “new home” hydrangea to the Baudoin vase.  The years truly sway like wildflowers free amongst a peaceful pasture.  But, those moments are picked and placed upon a grainy table, engraining love that lasts and clasps generations.  Our marriage has blossomed with beautiful blooms every year, every moon. Place a vase on your timeline table and fill it with memory magnolia stems.  Watch your bouquet sow and grow. 

I can’t help but notice all the strife, unrest, and chaos in the world. Frigid Winter waters have frozen souls with hatred and emptiness. Hearts are lacking heated blankets of fulfillment.  Discord is choking the world with the cord of discontent.  I want more I’m not happy  I’m depressed I’m anxious  I need answers  I want more  Hearts are bathtubs full of icy water. Hearts are bathtubs that bear holes. Without God, fulfillment comes from worldly finds and psychology. Gushing waters of hollow hopes fills the heart, then quickly siphons through the hidden hole at the bottom. Splashes of enticing enlightenment fills the heart, then swiftly leaks through the masked hole in the corner. Waves of wavering wonder fills the heart, then rapidly drains through the veiled hole at the rim.  God fills the heart to the brim and beyond, with truth and sound love.  God heals the depression holes with joy God fixes anxiety holes wi...

I love blogging about God’s presence in my life. I want to share what He does for me and what He could do for others... Yesterday, my husband and I visited our “soon-to-be-house” once again. We are clinging to the heart of this home more and more as we walk along its trusses and concrete love.  As we made our way through the 2 by 4 lined rooms we came across the guest bath. We peeked at our bathtub and spotted a conniving concern...a hole in the fiberglass.  So, we conspired a plan to email our grievance to the builder. We left our future home and enjoyed the rest of our evening. The delicate dusk included an intimate table at a quaint restaurant called Spahr’s in Downtown Thibodaux.  I told my husband amidst the Cajun cuisine, “I’ve learned to leave every little to big thing to God. I’m learning to pray over everything in life.”  I emailed the builder about the hole in the bathtub this morning. As the email was sending, I asked God to touch my words...