Birthday Wish…

Today is not only Resurrection Day, but it’s also my birthday! Yay!

Today I am 33 years old.  

When I told my dad my age, he said something that really made me think.

“Ah, the same age Jesus was!”

I know he just threw it out there because it’s the Easter season and we know that Jesus started his ministry at 30 and then died 3 1/2 years later.  My dad said it, then moved on to another topic.

But it caused a check in my heart.

Jesus died at the age of 33.  In 3 1/2 years he walked 100s of miles and healed thousands of people. He did so many miracles that they could fill this earth if they were all written down. He loved. He sacrificed. Jesus was anointed and completed His calling while He was on earth.

What about my calling?

As a daughter of the King; a wife; a mother; a sister; a friend. Am I completing my calling on this earth?

I know it wasn’t by accident that my birthday falls on the 31st day and the 31st Proverbs is my favorite chapter (so reading a Proverbs chapter a day, I would always read this chapter on my birthday).


I want to be a Godly woman. A prayer warrior. A Titus 2 woman. A virtuous woman. I don’t want to just pray, I want to live a life of prayer.  I don’t want to just sing a worship song, I want my life to be a life of worship unto the Lord.

That is my birthday wish.

At His Feet,



Resurrection Day

He died for me on Friday. Bloody and beaten. Nailed to an old rugged tree. He gave up His life for MY sins.

They laid Him in the tomb.

And today He is risen. He conquered death and rose from the grave!

I don’t know how to celebrate Easter – it wasn’t something we did growing up.  So Easter and bunnies and eggs… it’s all foreign to me and I don’t know how to use all that in the context of the resurrection.  We also didn’t celebrate Jesus’ resurrection growing up, but its now my heritage. I want to celebrate it and remember it.  So I do.

I recently had a conversation with my mom about why I celebrate Jesus’ resurrection.  This is not something Jehovah’s Witnesses do.  I explained to her that it was to remember the great thing that Jesus did. He died for our sins and rose from the dead to show that he has conquered the grave. The veil was torn and now we have access to the very throne of God!  Why wouldn’t we celebrate such a thing?  The Jewish people were a people of celebration and remembrance.  God told His people to teach their kids the great thing He had done in their lives so they could remember and it would be passed on from generation to generation.

But my mom just shook her head and could not understand why we would celebrate His resurrection.  She states that the only thing Jesus told us to remember was His death and to commemorate it every year. Yes, we can remember what Jesus did for us, but not celebrate it.

“Mom, you celebrate the anniversary of your wedding! You remember the day you were married and have friends and family over to celebrate and remember that great day… but you can’t celebrate the death and resurrection of our Lord and Savior?  That doesn’t make sense to me.”

But she just shook her head, no.  No celebration, it’s not what He told us to do.

As I celebrate my Lord’s resurrection today, I think of our conversation that happened right here in my kitchen.  I love and respect my mother, but I don’t understand the logic… I don’t know how not to celebrate this day. He conquered the grave! I mean ~ that’s amazing! Who on this earth can die a death like our Lord and then rise again?!  He died for my sins. I will celebrate His resurrection.

Thank you, Lord Jesus for all You’ve done. I serve the only One True God who gives life and conquers death.

At His Feet,


God in me…

Today I spoke to a hungry heart about Jesus.  I shared Bible verses. Listened to her hurt, her pain… then shared some of my own.  I pray there was a connection.  I was introduced to her by another sister at my church.  Then found out she lives in my same town.  No coincidence.


Then I went out with a dear sister from church – we went to the mall with my son and her girls.  She has teens and they were shopping for Easter dresses.  I bought a smoothie, and invited the person who made it for me to our church Easter Drama.  I left a store at the same time as woman and her child, and invited her as well.  Then I went grocery shopping and invited two more people.

That might not seem like a significant day to you.  But to me, it’s huge.  I don’t do that. I don’t talk to people about Jesus.  I don’t share my story.  I don’t invite complete strangers to church.  But today I did.

It’s God in me.


Spending more time reading the Bible, studying His word, listening for His voice. It’s all grown my spiritual life.  I haven’t watched TV in a week. And I don’t miss it. I didn’t purposely say “this week I’m fasting television”… I just had no desire to sit and watch it.

Instead I desired time with Him.

More of Him, less of me.

At His feet,


Thinking of returning to writing…

…but not necessary “blogging”.

Before I concentrated so much on blogging and growing an audience… but honestly I have nothing to say.

But writing. Oh, how I miss writing. Expressing my inner thoughts. Turning them over in my mind, writing it out on paper (or screen), and understanding how I really feel.

This is for me.

God has been growing me. Stretching me. My spiritual life. My prayer life. What it truly means to ‘give myself away’… I say that all the time now to myself.  When someone cuts me off or annoys me; when I’m being inconvenienced or asked to do something I don’t want to do… “I give myself away” comes to the front of my mind now.  This is what it means, here and now. Give myself away and respond as Jesus would.  Give myself away and be inconvenienced.  Give myself away and do what I’m too tired to do – and do it in love and with a real smile and real joy in my heart.  I give myself away.

It’s late. But I had it on my heart to go to my blog and write.  It wasn’t planned, but I felt a tug.  A small tug. And then the words just started to spill out.

Thank you Lord for the gift of words and thoughts and expression.

At His Feet,