With the sorrow, pain, and racial tensions we have been feeling in the U.S. these days, I am remembering a time when I experienced some of the most intense feelings I have ever had. My husband Ed and I, both white Americans, were with a group of other people from our organization, from Ghana, the…
Fortune Cookies, A Conference, and A Romance
“Will it ever be my turn?” I wondered as my plane winged its way to Washington, D.C. that July. Would I ever marry? Most of my friends had married by then. I longed for someone to lavish my love on, but had never met that someone who was just right for me. The five-day planning…
I Really Don’t Want to Miss What He Has to Say
I love to read. As a girl, immersed in a book, I would ignore my mother’s voice calling me to set the table for supper. This would usually get me into trouble. Interesting how I sometimes ignore my Father’s voice when I am reading a good book now. His call is a whisper to my…
A 3,000-Year-Old Conversation Taught Me About Holding My Husband in Weighty Esteem
My marriage has had its ups and downs, like any. But God has had His finger on one area for a while now: RESPECT. Where women crave love, men crave respect. God designed us that way. To make the deal sweeter, He commanded spouses to give each other the very thing they crave. Men are…
My Lifeline in the Sea of Trials
Eagerly, sometimes hungrily, first thing in the morning, I search for today’s entry on my calendar, my lifeline. The day my husband brought this calendar home from the office, I thought I'd use it "sometime." But soon things took a painful turn in the life of someone dear to us. As the days, months and…
How My Song Began
In the pink bedroom with the pink shag rug, two windows faced the maple tree and our suburban Maryland street, 67th Avenue. I lived in this house in Parkway Estates all my growing-up years. At night when it was very quiet, I could hear a train whistling miles away in Cheverly, or traffic rushing on…
Helping My Brother Through the Door
“Don’t you do what Ginny did,” my brother Terry said angrily. It was 1974. We were in Maryland at our parents’ home, talking about giving our hearts to Jesus, which our older sister Ginny had recently done. Terry was the big brother I had fought with growing up, but dearly loved. I was 19, and…
He Was With Me
In an unfinished concrete house, on a hillside with a far-away view of the Caribbean Sea, as a young staff member with Cru I began my first assignment outside the U.S. mainland. Two years in St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands, four years in Mexico, and 28 years in the Philippines later, I returned to the U.S.,…