What's the Plott?

I knew yesterday that I had not written anything yet. I even had a conversation with my sister about it. I told her I did not want to force it. I did not want to write just because it was Tuesday. I was waiting on the Lord.  If there was a word to share, I wanted Him to speak. Twice in the middle of the night, I woke up.  Not wide awake in a panic or  restless and frustrated.  Not tossing and turning because of a pulled neck muscle or some random ache that decided sleep was optional. J ust awake enough to quiet my mind and pray.... Just awake enough to be aware that I was awake....  Lord, if there is something You want me to say, speak. I asked Him to speak to my heart and then quieted myself to listen.... Both times,  I fell back asleep in that same quiet. Do  you know what happened? I woke up this morning feeling rested! Clear.  Present. R eady to write.  Not because He gave me some profound word in the wee hours of the night. But because H...

Yesterday was supposed to be a cleaning day. Not a tidy-up cleaning day. Not a “light a candle and fluff the pillows” kind of cleaning day. A real one. The kind where the dishwasher cycle needed to complete the whole loop — not just finished, but unloaded, reloaded, and ready to run again. The kind where the laundry did not just need to be washed and dried, but folded, put away, and restarted with the next load. The kind where school had started back, but our routines had not fully caught up yet. The kind where I woke up already behind and with no motivation. None. The house needed a reset, and I knew it. But knowing something needs to be done and knowing where to start are two very different things. I felt overwhelmed before I even began. Task paralysis is real, and yesterday I had it bad. Every room felt like it needed attention. Every surface had something on it. Every completed job seemed to uncover three more things that needed doing. Every area I cleaned created a new pile of thi...

Today was the first day back to school. And somewhere between drop-off, the quiet house, and a text from a friend who was taking his son to college, I typed the words: “My baby is in middle school.” And then I just stared at that for a second. My baby. Middle school. We have a tenth grader now too, and this summer with him has been one of the more challenging ones we have walked through. And then there is the twenty-two-year-old, who is basically adulting now, minus a little financial help here and there because, well… groceries and life. And as I thought about all three of them in their different stages, the only thing I could think was: Someone must have hit the fast-forward button, and I would very much like to know who did it. Because surely I was just packing tiny lunches and tying shoes and walking them into elementary school with backpacks bigger than their bodies. Surely I was just holding newborn babies and memorizing the shape of their little faces. Surely there should be a r...

After much time spent thinking about healing and prayer and miracles over the last few weeks, it has been brought to my attention how easily most of us separate the spiritual from the physical. We often look to enter into spiritual moments for worship but sometimes neglect that the height of worship can also be achieved in the everyday physical moments as well.  We ask for the Holy Spirit to meet us in prayer or worship.... Or to make His presence known through faith, spiritual warfare, anointing, deliverance, calling or purpose. And I believe in all of that deeply... I believe His presence powerfully moves in the supernatural moments we can't explain and don't understand. I believe in the spiritual realm that is just beyond our sight. But recently I've been forced to wonder if sometimes we focus so much on the invisible battles that we forget God also cares about the visible and natural battles... The struggle found in our human bodies, the vessels where we actually live o...