Whispers of Truth

Warning: This post is silliness itself. Sometimes that has to come out, too! :) My husband has given me one task today, and I have excitedly waited all afternoon to complete it. There is a story here, and it is my job to tell it; it is here because where else would I put it? Facebook? LOL.  One thing you should know about my husband is that he never has buyer’s regret (except maybe recently when after a very LONG time in a boot store trying on every single boot in his size, my impatient presence alone was enough to prod him into making a purchase he was unsure about; in all honesty, I enabled his buyer’s remorse because to get him out of the store I told him I would return the boots on my day off the following week if he did not like them after getting home with them. My bad. Really! Because then I had to make the one-and-a-half-hour drive to return them.) Anyhoo . . . fast forward a few weeks minus the new boots he has desperately needed for quite some time. Fortunately, on his wa

I am not a math person (ask any of the myriad of English students who have taken tests that didn't add up to 100 or whose papers I have graded over the years), but I have a really smart phone now that tells me stuff, and I can check my math. And honestly, there is some simple math that I can do. What I do know is that I am 53+ years old. I heard Christ’s call on my life when I was 12, so for more than forty years I have followed Him. The problem is I have not always followed Him well. I have struggled, wandered off fell, hurt myself, called out for help, and He has faithfully rescued this undeserving sheep from a wilderness of my own making more than once. He has done what I cannot do for myself. I have now spent more than forty years sojourning in a place not my home while seeking one that is yet to come. I can relate to the length of 40 years. It feels terribly long at times and terrifyingly short at others. —————————————————————————————————————————- The children of Israel tha