Bitterness can settle down deep into the soul and provoke us to retaliate or to try to prove something. If there’s something you’re holding on to . . . I encourage you to let it go.
No parent expects their high-achieving child to end up with a life prison sentence. Shattered by this reality, Carol Kent had to reframe what it means to live fully amid unchanging, hard circumstances. She now has multiple opportunities to benefit inmates and their families through her speaking, writing, and the organizations she and her husband have founded.
My son Jon let out a yell. Chairs tumbled over, and his cell phone slid across the wood floor. By the time I reached Jon, the grand mal seizure had started.
Without warning, Jon’s body was suddenly bombarded by legions of electrical and chemical blasts that slammed him like tidal waves of shock.
Let’s all be clear here; I’m not the “stay-calm-during-a-seizure” sort of person. That’s like saying, “just stay calm” to passengers on an airplane as it suddenly takes a nose dive directly toward earth.
Not gonna happen.
I did what we who live in the most insanely unpredictable space of seizure disorders have somehow fashioned into our second nature:
God uses pain as an invitation for us to lean into Him–His patience, His forgiveness, His love, His mercy, His grace, His ways.
Most parents cringe when the school principal calls you for a meeting about your child. However, the school principal pales in comparison to being called by a prison inmate . . . who is also your child.
The last place we expect or desire our child or loved one to live out his or her days is in prison.
Jason Kent, son of Carol and Gene Kent, was a parent’s dream to raise. Everything Jason did, he did with excellence.
From graduating at the top of his class from the U.S. Naval Academy to marrying a beautiful woman, life for the Kent family was ideal. Until . . . something snapped and Jason was arrested, then sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.
We have a choice: we can lose hope or cling to Jesus and reframe our thinking.
My husband’s work hours have been crazy due to the recent natural disasters. He was called into work every Sunday in October. I had just returned from a speaking engagement.
I had yet to unpack . . . I was tired.
Church is often a struggle for me. It’s tragically amazing how creative my excuses can be for not going to church. (Notice I said “excuses” and not “reasons.”)
I want to encourage you to place your trust and all your circumstances in the One who longs to give you rest–Jesus Christ.
It’s confession time: I have an addiction. It started years ago. Short on cash but high on creativity, secondhand stores and antique shops became my go-to spots for getting stuff.
I figured someone’s trash could become my treasure, with the help of some power tools, paint, and my sewing machine. (Thanks to Pinterest and DIY Web sites, how-to videos are plentiful when I’m in a pinch.)
Over time, I’ve noticed a trend. A lot of great stuff gets tossed out because of a little chip or dent, a scratch here, a tear there. How quickly we tend to diminish an object’s value if there’s a slight imperfection. We want something . . .
Each day my Shepherd carries me
This lost and broken lamb
Ever patient, tender mercy
You are the great “I Am.”