Friday Tidings

  I’m not a good traveler—just ask my husband. He has longed to take a cross-country tour with me. Hasn’t happened yet in 40 years. But there was one time that I packed a brand new suitcase and was willing to travel across the world to get to the place I had been reading about most of my life—the Holy Land. Once there, I walked miles and miles with wide-eyed wonder, sealing the images inside my mind. The bustling markets of the Old City of Jerusalem were memorable, and so were the ancient ruins where so much Biblical history took place. But I realized that I’d found what I came to see, when I was outside of Bethlehem. I tuned-out the crowd noise, and I imagined it as it might have been that special night. Perhaps it was like this year, with a planetary line up making the night sky shine with a remarkable celestial brightness. But on that one night, the heavens opened up as a chorus of angels announced the arrival of our Savior.  I would have been like those shepherds, completely

Just after I was married, my mother-in-law was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. She responded with determination and even though she owned and operated a Bible bookstore with a demanding schedule, she managed as well as she could.  When my sis-in-law Deanna was a college freshman, and her life was just beginning, she quit in order to return home to help her mom. If she questioned her decision, she never voiced it. She just knew her mom was sick, and needed help. I’d never seen that kind of sacrificial love before—in someone that young. Eventually she returned to college, but quit once again when her mom needed her. I should have known right then how strong and courageous Deanna was—she was a lot like her determined mother.  Deanna finished college, found love, married, and showed the same kind of sacrificial love as she raised her three children. She has a dynamic blend of humor, sensitivity, faith, and strong resolve.  When her mom wanted to retire from her Bible bookstore, it mad

Holidays are different this year..... Back when my routine cancer screenings happened in December, the waiting area was always delightfully decorated, and my fellow patients enjoyed talking a bit more. “ I could think of three places I’d rather be right now ,” the woman said to no one in particular. She then took a seat across from me in the waiting room. Several others were in seats facing the large windows overlooking Lake Union. I glanced up from my magazine and smiled. I silently agreed. I wish I didn’t have to make time for three appointments shoe-horned into a single day. It seemed as though she chose a seat near me in order to stretch the conversation beyond the quick niceties shared in a waiting room. I set my magazine down. I asked, “Where would you go first?” I saw the beginning of a smile, as she pondered. “ That’s easy. I’d go to New England in the autumn when the leaves are their most vibrant .” I nodded in approval. I told her I’d never seen it for myself, but

It’s a cheap ornament—sparkly in the way that excess glitter provides. It has a fake green leaf coming out of an apple-shaped piece of styrofoam. It wouldn’t be something I’d buy to put on my Christmas tree, but it was given to me by someone who had very little to give. Let me explain. Big Mike was a teddy bear kind of guy. He had the mental development of perhaps a teen, but was forty-something. He loved Sundays because it meant he could be driven to church and he’d attend both services just to listen to the music and be enveloped by the love he felt there. He’d wave at everyone and was as enthusiastic as any pastor could hope for out of someone sitting in the congregation.  Big Mike lived in an apartment building designed for adults needing extra assistance. He had a dorm-like room, with just the essentials—a small bathroom, a tiny table, and an old recliner chair. A TV hung on an adjacent wall. His bed was two saggy mattresses on the floor. Big Mike was a large guy, and his bed f