I tend to be a worrier and as a result, I’m a planner because I want to control the outcome. If truth be known, I want to control the future, to know what’s coming and to plan for it. To be ready. Prepared. Not caught unawares. There’s no big sin in it save this: Sometimes it’s easier to trust in myself than God.
That’s the ugly truth and it’s embarrassing to admit I struggle with it, but there you go. My future seems so real and often I feel as if I Know Best which just proves one thing: I don’t.
Beauty in the Broken
Educated into Intimacy
You’re being educated.
Educated in intimacy-the hardest, the most glorious thing. Think about this: the savior of the world, the maker of stars, the Son of the morning, the Dayspring from on high, the Rose of Sharon, and King of Kings-He wants intimacy and oneness with you. And with me. Impossibly possible and wonderful.
We Are Not the Same But We Are All One
I love this online writing world but even more, I love connecting with other writers and finding out their passion, the thing compelling their words. I got to meet a whole bunch of them this weekend at Allume, a conference for Christian women bloggers and writers.
Four hundred and fifty of us gathered in beautiful Greenville SC for 3 nights and 2 full days of learning, connecting, worshipping and building community. I finally had the chance to put faces to online avatars and interact with ones who’d already touched my heart with their words.
How to Live a Life That Tells
I honestly don’t know what people think about me which is okay, I’d rather not know. My goal is to live the word the best I can, haltingly and imperfectly but honestly. But I do want my life to tell. Paul said his life was an epistle written and read by men. The epistle of Paul’s life tells the …
My Ugly Confession
True confession time. You may think you know me but unless you’ve lived with me, you don’t know what a brat I can be. Just ask my poor husband because I was such a pill to him this weekend. If my granny were still around, she’d say, “Stop being such a piss-ant Kate!”
I’ve never known anyone else who said ‘piss-ant’. Except for granny. I can totally see her, standing in front of the stove cooking roast beef hash and eggs for breakfast and waving her spatula around while I pick on my little sister. And telling me not to be a piss-ant. Yes, it means just what you think it means. Poor Mike. He puts up with my moods way better than I deserve. Not to say he doesn’t fight back, he will stand his ground and let me know when I’m being a complete brat. He’s not a push-over that is for sure. We are both passionate people and we will fight for our position even when it’s not pretty. And it rarely is.