Why No Comments?

As my husband says, I’m not the “bloggiest” of bloggers.

With hearts-needing-tending under our roof, with 15+ years of combined fatherlessness to work through … as well as the many years of my own living like I had no Father, I’ve consciously made this blog to be a quieter place.

But your thoughts are warmly welcome over email!

I may not personally respond to each email, however, know that your stories are a treasure to me. I absolutely value how He is writing on each of your lives and love that He lets me play one itty-bitty part in His grand opus in you.

This is my small way of making my little ones, my bigger one, and the biggest One to carry my most devoted attention. I’m sure you understand!




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Recent Blog Posts

The Myth of Human Strength

My best and brightest moments have been laced with weakness. We met our first two children in Ethiopia and spent our first days of parenting in a tempered state of shock over the rolling meltdowns. While adopting our second two children from Uganda, I saw miracle-level movements of God I’d never before or since seen. Even in the times when we’ve…

The Antidote to Comparison

Three sisters share a bathroom, a closet, hairbrushes and the nightly bedtime recounting of the day. They know each other’s strengths just as surely as they know one another’s morning breath. All the girls know that Eden can sing and Hope can dance and Lily can paint. They celebrate each others’ differences readily. They wouldn’t want to forfeit what’s theirs — and doesn’t…

The Mindless Looking {and what it steals from me}

“Why doesn’t anyone else have to do this Mommy?” she asks again as we drive to another specialist appointment. No matter how I answer, she still has the same question. It’s as if there are no answers for her, for this kind of question. Yet. With adoption, there are some days that I feel like we have a home full of cavernous stories…

That Question: “What Am I Doing Wrong?”

I had to hear it through a half-dozen other mouths before I realized it’d been in my head first, and for possibly years. “What am I doing wrong?” It’s the mother whose child isn’t sleeping, and the wife who’s husband isn’t emoting, and the daughter who’s father is still in rehab and the twenty-five-year-old who is still in the same…

How Marriage is Teaching Me to Search the Whole Person

“How well do you think your husband knows you?” this new-to-me christian counselor asked me on a frigid January afternoon as I sat in her office. “Really well,” I responded without thinking. After a studied pause, she asked, “What percentage of ‘all of you’ does he know?” “Eighty percent,” I said confidently. We had known each other two and half years,…