What to Do While You're Waiting

Life generally passes quickly.

Too quickly, in my estimation. I blink and it’s Christmas again. I open my eyes to a new day and discover that my daughters are a year older (and so am I). I pay my taxes and find that they’re due again. Like an Olympic luge competitor, I tip my day into motion and discover I’m already at the finish line.

There are, however, a few exceptions to the speeding chute of life. One is when we're waiting for important results that will affect the course of our lives. 

A legal or financial judgment.

Medical test results.

An acceptance letter.

Waiting for any one of these makes time move as slowly as grandma on the interstate. So what do we do while we’re waiting for the news?

We purpose not to fear.

“Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea” (Psa. 46:2).

We reaffirm our trust in God, who holds our days in his hands.

“When I am afraid, I will trust in you” (Psa. 56:3).

We appeal to God’s mercy instead of bargaining and negotiating with him on the basis of our good works. 

“We do not make requests of you because we are righteous, but because of your great mercy” (Dan. 9:18).

We pray with fervency and persistence, as long as there is hope. David prayed this way when his infant son lay dying.

"While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept. I thought, 'Who knows? The LORD may be gracious to me and let the child live'" (2 Sam. 12:22).

We decide in advance to accept whatever comes from God’s hand, trusting that God’s grace will enable us to bear it, even if the verdict isn’t what we hope. 

“What? shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil? In all this did not Job sin with his lips” (Job 2:10).

We remind ourselves that God is for us, that he can use everything for good, and that his ultimate purpose for our lives is to redeem us and point others to himself. In this we place our hope. 

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28).

We fix our eyes on the finish line. 

“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us” (Rom. 8:18).

If you’re waiting for a verdict today, large or small, I pray the time will move quickly and that you will accept God’s grace to face whatever lies ahead with faith and courage.

Are you trying to connect with God in the craziness of everyday life?


May I tell you about my new book, Hungry for God … Starving for Time, 5-Minute Devotions for Busy Women?

 Today's women want to connect with God, but in the craziness of life, it’s just not happening. You want practical, biblical answers to situations you face every day, but you don’t have hours to pore over Scripture.

You need a resource that answers the questions you’re afraid to ask out loud. Questions like:

• Is my situation hopeless?
• If God already knows what he’s going to do, why bother to pray? 
• Why have you allowed this to happen to me? 
• No one appreciates what I do. Why shouldn’t I quit? 

Each devotion begins with a Facetime question and ends with a biblical answer wrapped in a modern day parable. Like a spiritual power bar, Hungry for God … Starving for Time is packed with enough scriptural nutrition to get you through the day. Wherever you are—in break rooms, carpool lines, or wherever you can snatch five minutes of quiet reflection—Hungry for God … Starving for Time, 5-Minute Devotions for Busy Women is for you. 

 

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Why Granny Needed a Man -- New Years Reflections

By Lori Hatcher

In honor of the new year and the upcoming 105th anniversary of my grandmother's birth, I thought I'd share this popular post  from 2012.

photo credit

My granny was a quirky little Portuguese lady with a big laugh and a love for coffee. Every January 1 she'd call my dad and ask him to come to her house. "If a man is the first person to walk through my door on New Year's Day," she'd say, "I'll  have good luck all year." 

I often wondered what would have happened if one of her female friends knocked on her door before dad arrived. I suspect she'd have left them sitting on her frozen Rhode Island stoop.

Granny had another superstition concerning New Year's Day. "Whatever you do on New Year's," she'd say with a shake of her prophetic finger, "you'll do the rest of the year." I was really concerned the year the toilet overflowed and the oven caught fire. If her prophecy was true, things did not bode well for the other 364 days of that year.

While I don't send my husband out the front door only to turn around and walk back in to secure luck for another year, I often think about my granny's second pronouncement.

"What you do on New Year's Day, you'll do the rest of the year."

Overflowing toilets notwithstanding, the first day of each year sets the tone for the other 364. I'm not a fan of resolutions, because they leave little room for failure. I favor goals instead. They're much more gracious.

If you're like me and can look back over resolutions you've made and broken, or goals you've set and failed to accomplish, take heart. You're in good company.

I suspect the apostle Paul made and broke a few New Year's resolutions, too. Why else would he have written, "Forgetting those things that are behind, I press toward the mark of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus"?  (Philippians 3:13).

When Paul "forgot" the past, however, he didn't forget the lessons he learned. He just didn't let those failures define him. He didn't allow the failures of his past to prevent him from starting over.

"Let the past sleep," writes Oswald Chambers, "but let it sleep on the bosom of Christ."

As we begin the new year, I invite you to do three things with me:

1. Trust God with the past, knowing that he will cause all things to work together for good to those who love God and are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28).

2.  Set new goals that will help you to draw closer to God and become more like him in the coming year.

3. Begin today. In the words of my little granny, "What you do on New Year's Day, you'll do all year long." 

I pray your new year is filled with good, God-honoring activities.

I'd love to hear about the goals the Lord leads you to set for the new year. Leave a comment below and join in the conversation. 
 

If you enjoyed this devotion, may I tell you about my new book, Hungry for God … Starving for Time, 5-Minute Devotions for Busy Women?

 Today's women want to connect with God, but in the craziness of life, it’s just not happening. You want practical, biblical answers to situations you face every day, but you don’t have hours to pore over Scripture.

You need a resource that answers the questions you’re afraid to ask out loud. Questions like:

• Is my situation hopeless?
• If God already knows what he’s going to do, why bother to pray? 
• Why have you allowed this to happen to me? 
• No one appreciates what I do. Why shouldn’t I quit? 

Each devotion begins with a Facetime question and ends with a biblical answer wrapped in a modern day parable. Like a spiritual power bar, Hungry for God … Starving for Time is packed with enough scriptural nutrition to get you through the day. Wherever you are—in break rooms, carpool lines, or wherever you can snatch five minutes of quiet reflection—Hungry for God … Starving for Time, 5-Minute Devotions for Busy Women is for you. 

 

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Are they really listening?

My grandmother taught me to pray whenever I heard an ambulance. 

“Whenever you hear a siren,” she’d say, “that means someone needs help. Always stop and pray for that person, even if you don’t know who it is.” 

I don’t remember praying often as a child, but whenever I’d hear a siren, whether I was on the playground, doing homework, or lying in bed at night, I’d say a prayer. 

One spring day my sisters and I were visiting my godmother two houses over on the next street. Madrinha was a tiny woman with a tender heart and a generous supply of cookies, and we loved visiting her. We had just seated ourselves on the glider that graced her front porch when I heard the siren. 

I knew the sound originated from the volunteer fire station six blocks away, but instead of fading as it usually did, it got louder and louder and closer and closer. Before long the red truck with flashing lights barreled down the street in front of us. Cars pulled off to the side as it turned right at the corner. 

Dear God, I prayed as my grandmother had taught me, please help the person who needs that ambulance. Help the paramedics take good care of them, and please don’t let them die. Amen.

We finished our Sprite and cookies, but somehow, the fun was gone from the afternoon. I couldn’t quite shake the image of the ambulance with its flashing lights and screaming siren. My sisters and I carried our glasses to the sink, hugged Madrinha, and clomped down the stairs. Suddenly in a hurry to get home, we cut through the two yards between our houses and burst through the kitchen door. 

“Oh, thank goodness you’re home,” my mom said breathlessly. “Granny passed out in the bathroom and hit her head. The ambulance just left. They’re taking her to the hospital. I want you to stay here with your sisters until Daddy gets home. I’m going up to the hospital.” She squeezed my shoulder and was gone, grabbing her keys from the hook by the back door. 

My youngest sister started to cry, and I wanted to join her. 

Whenever you hear a siren, that means someone needs help. Always stop and pray for that person, even if you don’t know who it is. 

Sometimes we underestimate the value of simple lessons and life examples. We wonder if the children around us are really listening, especially when we see little evidence of our impact. 

Teaching the children around us spiritual disciplines, even when they don’t fully understand the importance of them, helps them develop lifelong habits. Later, when they have the spiritual maturity to fully grasp the lesson, the habit is already formed. 

When my daughters swam drills during swim team practice, their coach said he was working on their muscle memory. “If you do it right over and over again,” he’d say, “then one day you’ll dive in the water and your muscles will know what to do.” 

By teaching me to pray whenever I heard an ambulance, be kind to small children and the elderly, and always be honest, my grandmother helped train my faith muscles. I didn’t always understand the spiritual implications of her instructions, but later, when I became a Christian, I already had the foundation for godly behavior. My granny helped develop my faith muscle memory. 

Today, I still pray whenever I hear an ambulance. I’m kind to small children and the elderly, and I try my best to be honest. I’m also looking forward to the day when I can begin teaching my grandchildren important life lessons. 

“Whenever you hear a siren,” I’ll say. . . 

Lori Hatcher is the author of the blog, Hungry for God; Starving for Time, where she provides 5-minute doses of spiritual nutrition for busy people. Like a spiritual power bar, Lori's devotions will nourish your soul when you don't have time for a spiritual meal. To subscribe, click here.

You can also follow Hungry for God; Starving for Time on Facebook by clicking here.


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Will God Give us More Than We Can Handle?

credit Kari Davis

The doorknob shouldn’t be rattling, I thought, turning toward the sound. The spoon in my hand paused midway between a bowl of Cheerios and my toddler's mouth. It was 8 a.m.—too early for visitors. My husband had left for work an hour earlier, and the neighborhood was just beginning to stir. A school bus rumbled up the road, skirting the trash truck as it made its Monday rounds. 

“Daddy!” my eldest daughter squealed happily, scrambling from her seat as the door swung open slowly. One look at my husband’s face told me something was terribly wrong. 

“Are you sick?” I asked, trying to make sense of his premature return. 

“They let me go,” he said. 

Our eyes met in panic and disbelief. If anyone had asked us, we would have said David was at the top of his career. He had been with the company almost six years and was earning more money than he ever had. Although I only worked a day and a half as a dental hygienist, we were able to put money aside at the end of every month. 

His dismissal made no sense. 

David awakened the next morning intending to begin his job search, but instead was incapacitated by violent stomach pains and nausea. When I went out to get medicine, the car belched a cloud of black smoke and died in the driveway. “I think your engine’s blown,” our mechanic friend told us as he peered under the hood. 

I eyed my children fearfully, wondering what Job-like plague would befall us next. It came the following day. A trip to the mailbox yielded a letter from David’s former employer informing us that our health insurance had ended with his termination. 

Three days later, I reached my breaking point. 

“Lord,” I cried out, “this is so bad; I can’t even imagine how you can fix it.” My mind swirled with desperate thoughts and my stomach clutched with fear. “You tell us in your Word that nothing is too hard for you,” I prayed. “Please help us.” 

All my life I’ve heard people say, “God will never give you more than you can handle.” They base this on 1 Corinthians 10:13, which says “No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.” This verse, however, is talking about temptation, not testing or trials. I’m firmly convinced God will allow more trials and testing into our lives than we can bear. It happened to the Apostle Paul, just like it happened to my family during that horrible winter of 1994. 

Listen to Paul’s lament: “We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death” (2 Cor. 1:8-9). Paul’s situation was so bad he thought he would die. 

Yet God allowed it. 

Why? 

Paul tells us: “But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God,” (v. 10). 

When Paul reached the end of his resources, the end of his endurance, the end of his courage, and the end of himself, he cried out to the God who could do the impossible, and he delivered him. This same God delivered us. 

It didn’t happen overnight, and it didn’t happen without effort on our part. Every day yielded new opportunities to trust God in the face of our fears. Some days we felt mighty and brave. Other days we felt weak and scared. Through it all, we continued to claim God’s promises and do our part. 

David applied for jobs. We took the car to another mechanic for a second opinion. We sought medical help for his illness. And little by little, the pieces began to fall into place. 

After a series of tests, doctors got David’s gastric distress under control. He found a temporary job that supplemented the generous gifts from kind friends and met our basic needs. A second mechanic discovered that our car needed a distributor cap, not an engine, and another friend paid for the repair. 

It was a horrible, glorious time. 

Our faith grew in giant leaps as we prayed and saw God answer. We learned the true source of our provision—God--not David’s job. We discovered that God cared about all the details of our lives and was intimately acquainted with all our ways. We learned to trust him and not ourselves. We learned to say with Paul,

“He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope . . .” (v. 10). My husband and I discovered that God sometimes gives us more than we can handle, but he never gives us more than he can handle. 

If you’re going through a difficult time today, I encourage you to trust the God who can do the impossible. He will not disappoint you. And if you have a story of deliverance, I’d love to hear it. Why not leave a comment below and encourage us all?

Lori Hatcher is the author of the blog, Hungry for God; Starving for Time, where she provides twice-weekly doses of spiritual nutrition for busy people. Like a spiritual power bar, Lori's devotions will nourish your soul when you don't have time for a spiritual meal. To subscribe, click here.

You can also follow Hungry for God; Starving for Time on Facebook by clicking here.

Don't Miss What's Most Important this Summer

I'm writing from the front porch of a friend’s beautiful home on Edisto Island, South Carolina.

I smell the scent of jasmine whenever the sea breeze blows, and Spanish moss dangles from nearby oaks like feather boas on southern ladies. 

My daughter reads on the porch swing with our dog at her feet, and friends talk quietly nearby. The gentle rhythm of their rocking is tempo to the wind chimes’ melody. With our stomachs full of pimento cheese, boiled peanuts, and sweet tea, we marvel at God’s goodness. 

Those of you with younger children are enjoying a break from early start times, homework, and sports practice. Those with older ones are celebrating as your college students sleep again in their childhood beds, partake of family meals, and keep you up too late talking. Even those without children benefit from summer break—less traffic in the morning commute, entrepreneurial teens willing to mow your lawns, and ambitious interns to share the workload. 

Summer is permission to slow down, stay longer, and pause. 

As you enjoy the summer, may I encourage you to savor the simple things—children’s laughter, a good book, and nature’s bounty. They are gifts from above. 

Families are gifts, too, and deserve to be savored. During the days when it’s hot and slow, why not plan a special evening together? Turn off the computer, throw the cell phones in a drawer, and enjoy some real face time. Make memories that will linger long past the season. 

And don’t forget your church family. Is there someone you’ve wanted to get to know better? The grill is calling. Why not fire it up, cook a few burgers, and share a slice of life? 

And be sure to talk about the Father of lights who fills our days with good and perfect gifts (Jas. 1:17). It’s a conversation topic with unlimited potential. 

Happy Fourth of July weekend, and happy summer. 

Lori Hatcher is the author of the blog, Hungry for God; Starving for Time, where she provides 5-minute doses of spiritual nutrition for busy people. Like a spiritual power bar, Lori's devotions will nourish your soul when you don't have time for a spiritual meal. To subscribe, click here.

You can also follow Hungry for God; Starving for Time on Facebook by clicking here.




Hungry for God is on Pinterest! If you're a Pinterest fan, I'd love to connect with you there. CLICK HERE to follow Hungry for God. I'd love to follow you back :) 

 

Hairball or Hardball?

It was amazing, really. 

credit

If I didn’t have my feet firmly planted in the truth of Creationism, I would have called CNN to report that we’d found evolution’s missing link under my daughter’s bed. 

And what was evolving bore a distinct resemblance to my dog. I’m sure the DNA from the red hairball was a perfect match. Coated in a thick layer of dust and surrounded by a tissue explosion from an allergy season long ago, the slowly forming creature was scientifically fascinating. From a domestic standpoint, however, it was downright embarrassing. 

Added to my housekeeping shame was the fact that it wasn’t my husband who moved the bed away from its place against the wall and unearthed this treasure; it was the nice man we’d hired to install our replacement windows. 

And he was just beginning. 

He moved the bookshelf in the living room to reveal enough dead leaves from the nearby Ficus tree to carpet a forest. He removed the curtains from my daughter’s bedroom and succumbed to a dust-induced sneezing fit. And he moved the television stand to uncover two distinct shades of carpeting—clean and not-so-clean. 

When faced with the indisputable evidence of my less-than-perfect housecleaning, I had two choices: slide the furniture back over the top of the mess and pretend it didn’t exist, or clean it up. 

The Church of Laodicea had two choices, also. No, they hadn’t voted to install replacement windows in the fellowship hall, but they did encounter a similar problem to mine—they had neglected something, and it was time to clean it up. 

The third chapter of Revelation talks about some of the hidden messes—a lukewarm commitment to God, misplaced priorities, materialism, and spiritual apathy. And like my kind friend moved furniture so he could make improvements to my home, God lovingly slid back the curtains on areas of the Laodiceans’ lives that needed cleaning up. 

Like the dust balls under my furniture, you and I often have hidden sins and attitudes we hide from view—until the day God exposes them. And then we have a choice to make. 

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock,” Christ says. My window man entered my home because I gave him permission to make my home better. Jesus Christ asks for the same privilege. 

“If any man hears my voice and opens the door. . .” 

The only way I can have a clean house is to sweep out the messes my kind friend uncovered. The only way we can have a clean heart is to remove the hidden sins and attitudes Jesus Christ uncovers.

And the result? Much nicer than replacement windows—“I will fellowship with (you), and (you) with me.” 

So I ask: Is Christ’s Holy Spirit moving furniture around in your life today? Has he brought to mind a sin, attitude, or action that doesn’t honor him? If he has, you have two choices—turn a blind eye to the sin he reveals, or do what it takes to clean it up. 


“If we confess our sin, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sin and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). 

So what’s it going to be—hairball or hardball? I encourage you—don’t take a soft view on sin, even “small” sins. Call them what they are (confession), turn your back on them (repentance), and walk in freedom and restoration (joy). 

Has there been a time when God revealed a hidden sin in your life? What did you do about it? Leave a comment below. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Lori Hatcher blogs over at Hungry for God . . . Starving for Time. There she posts twice-weekly 5-minute devotions for busy women. Why not hop on over and say hello?



 

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Overheard on a Plane

I was thankful he wasn’t six feet tall—or weighed 300 pounds--this man who shared the too-small pair of seats with me on my flight to Washington. 

But he was of average height and build, fitting adequately into his allotted 18-inch spot. Already conscious of personal space, I tucked myself tightly into mine, leaning hard against the window and wondering aloud how taller-than-average travelers manage to fly comfortably. We made awkward but polite conversation as the plane taxied to the runway. 

He was headed to New York via D.C. to visit his son, and I was spending the weekend with my daughter. My radar went up when he mentioned New York, and for a while we talked Yankee, lamenting about how hard it is to find good pizza, Philly steak and cheese, and Italian bread. 

“What do you do?” I asked him. 

“I was trained as a musician,” he said, “but I realized early on that I’d never be good enough to make a living, so I sell insurance. How about you?” 

“I edit a Christian magazine,” I answered. 

It was odd, really, for someone who values eye contact, but the respect for personal space required me to talk to him while staring at the back of the seat in front of me. 

“I was raised a Roman Catholic,” he said. 

“Me, too,” I replied with a smile, “like all good Yankees.” 

“I never really thought about it much until my father was dying,” he said contemplatively. “My family was all there in the hospital, and I was doing okay for a while. Then a . . .” he paused as he searched for the unfamiliar term, “. . . chaplain came by. He asked me if there was anything he could do for us, and I just lost it. . . .” His voice trailed away, remembering. “We talked for about two hours in a room down the hall. It helped a lot.” 

“Losing someone you care about gives you a different perspective,” I agreed. “My husband and I lost two sisters and a brother in 2010, and it was really hard.” 

“Makes you wonder why stuff like that happens,” he said. 

“I’ve been a Christian for over 30 years,” I said, “and I’ve noticed that the hardest experiences are the ones that teach me the most—usually how much I need God. And I almost always learn something that I can use to help someone else. The Bible talks about that, that we can comfort others with the comfort we’ve received. When that happens,” I paused, “it makes me feel like maybe I haven’t wasted the pain.” 

The flight attendant came around with coffee and Cokes, and we fell silent, lost in our thoughts, until the Fasten Seat Belts sign came on. The reminder to return our seat backs “to their full, upright position” confirmed that we were preparing to land. 

“I enjoyed talking to you,” he said as he gathered his bag and coat. “Usually it’s, well, you know. . .” 

“Enjoy your time with your son,” I smiled in return. 

Later, waiting on the tarmac to retrieve my suitcase, a woman with a gentle smile stood nearby. 

“Were you sitting in 10D?” she asked. 

“Yes,” I answered, expecting her to tell me I’d left something behind. 

“I was in the row in front of you,” she said, “and I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed listening to your conversation. It was refreshing.” She smiled again and was gone. 

“Be ready always to give a reason for the hope that is within you,” the Lord through Peter says, “but with gentleness and respect.” 

I wonder: What if, instead of rushing through our lives, we asked the Lord to show us each day who needs a word of encouragement, hope, or truth? We might be surprised at what we see.

Lori Hatcher blogs over at Hungry for God . . . Starving for Time. There she posts twice-weekly 5-minute devotions for busy women. Why not hop on over and say hello?



 

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What I Saw in an Operation Christmas Child Box

Ever wonder what happens to the Operation Christmas Child shoe box your family fills every year? Many families donate boxes full of toys, candy, and personal items to Franklin Graham’s ministry to children in impoverished or war-torn areas. They seldom think about what happens next. My visit to the giant OCC processing center in Charlotte, North Carolina enlightened me. 

Every year, thousands of volunteers help inspect and process the shoe boxes for distribution. This year, my husband led a team from his youth ministry, and I went along. In 2013, our guide told us, the Charlotte campus of OCC hopes to send out 2.9 million boxes. By 2 p.m. on the day our team arrived, they had already processed 109,000—a remarkable feat considering that every box must be hand-inspected by volunteers and prepared for travel. 

This is not me -- her hair is much prettier!

Stationed on a long assembly line, my job was to open each box and remove the seven-dollar shipping donation. As the first to handle each box, I was the first to peek inside. It was like Christmas morning a thousand times over. 

As I carefully raised the lid, mindful of the fact that a check could be taped to the inside or resting on top, I couldn’t help but imagine how the little child who will ultimately receive this box might feel. 


Two types of boxes were particularly moving. 

The boxes designated for little girls made me smile. Many included soft stuffed animals, hair bows and brushes, and pretty pens and paper. I imagined the girls’ delight when they fingered the faux pearls, sniffed the scented soap, or hugged the black-eyed teddy bears. My favorite box of all contained an entire fairy outfit, complete with a sparkly wand and a pink tutu. 

The boys’ boxes were equally exciting, according to my husband. They held flashlights with extra batteries, ball caps, and tools like hammers and screwdrivers. Candy filled the corners and the token toothbrush and toothpaste balanced out the equation. Some were packed so tightly and filled so full that we had a hard time closing the lids. 

Every now and then, however, I’d open a different type of box. Sparsely filled, sometimes with items that were second hand or functional, these country cousins just couldn’t compete with their overweight city relatives. They were usually smaller, almost apologetic in their presentation, and seldom wrapped in pretty paper. One had a photo of a little old lady sitting on a couch with a bug-eyed Chihuahua beside her. “Jesus loves you,” she had written. “I hope you come to love him, too.” 

Thankfully, due to the added generosity of individuals and businesses, we supplemented boxes like these with filler items. We’d tuck toys, school supplies, or toiletry items into the empty spaces and pray a blessing on the giver who’d obviously had a generous heart but an impoverished pocketbook. 

The full boxes made my heart happy, because they demonstrated the generosity of God’s people toward those less fortunate than themselves. They gave me hope that although our world seems to be increasingly selfish and self-centered, people are still listening to and obeying the Holy Spirit’s nudge to give. 

The partially filled boxes made my heart happy, too. Like the widow’s mite, they demonstrated the desire of God’s people to give sacrificially. Both boxes, I believe, made God’s heart happy. 

Perhaps some of the shoe boxes you’ve donated over the years have been filled with gracious plenty. Others, maybe not so much. Even if all you could give was a partially filled shoebox, rest in the knowledge that God multiplied your gift and sent it on. 

And he’s smiling—just like the little boy or girl on the other side of the world will be when she opens her box this Christmas.

Do you have an Operation Christmas Child story to share? I’d love to hear it. Leave a comment below. 

And if you'd like to read about two orphaned children who received shoe boxes, click HERE to read my friend Dawn Gonzalez's fabulous story.

Here's the team from Green Hill Baptist Church with my husband, David (left).

Lori Hatcher blogs over at Hungry for God . . . Starving for Time. She'd love for you to stop by and say hello.

Merry Christmas! 

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Is there homeschooling mom in your life? 

Does she need a dose of encouragement as she enters the new year? 

Or perhaps you're that slightly weary, sometimes frazzled homeschooling mom who needs a kind friend to come alongside her.

Why not order her a copy of Lori's devotional book for homeschooling moms, Joy in the Journey?


With a devotional for every week of the school year, JITJ has application questions, an action step, and a prayer. It's suitable for your own devotional reading or for use by a support group for meeting ideas.

Don't start the new year without it!

For more information and to read what other homeschooling moms are saying about Joy in the Journey, click here. 
 
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