Be still, my chld, and know that I am God.So, I don’t believe in opening the bible and pointing at a page haphazardly, as if we could hurdle a dart across a room at a target in an attempt to precisely find answers to life’s challenges.

But, today when I sought encouragement and opened a book, not the bible itself, His voice fell into my lap. I was lifted up by God’s words.

As I reflected at the end of my day, I was not happy with myself, pointedly because it was the 2nd day of the new year and I had already felt anger, discouragement, frustration, and distance from my creator. With all of that bubbling up, brewing and stewing, I wedged that distance in there pretty tightly myself, didn’t I?

I opened the book Jesus Calling, Enjoying Peace in His Presence, authored by Sarah Young,  randomly (I threw the dart.). My thought was, “I cannot do much worse than what I’ve already done to myself today. Let’s see if I find a fix.” Keeping in mind that Sarah’s Jesus Calling books are written in dialogue, as if we are having a personal conversation with our maker (and we are, always, of course, right?), here’s what I buckled my knees down to (excerpt):

“Relax in my healing, holy Presence. Be still while I transform your heart and mind. Let go of cares and worries so that you can receive My Peace. Cease striving, and know that I am God.”

“Cease striving.” Were those tears wetting my dry eyes? “Let go of cares and worries so that you can receive My Peace.” Exhale. Largely. My goodness, I whispered, where had I been? If only, if only I had let Him. If only! He forgives. His grace is love.

As peace wrapped itself around me like a soft blanket, “It is through knowing Me intimately that you become like Me. This requires spending time alone with Me. Let go, relax, be still, and know that I am God.” I do want you, Father. You are my One. There is nothing else. Nobody. Not a thing.

Psalm 46:10 NIV He says, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

Be still my child. Nothing else matters. Tranquil, harmonious peace.



WRiting nourishes the soulWith the study of my intentions this season, I have realized how I have let soulful creativity go to the wayside.

Pleasure and peaceful soul nourishment comes to me through writing.

One of my favorite coaching questions to ask my clients is: Name one thing you do that leads you to forget about time, environment, your problems, EVERYTHING? How I personally answer that question: when I write.

To me, writing is like a painting. I see a landscape. I see color. I pick up the paintbrush and I dip it into paint (I move my fingers across the keyboard) and colors begin to glide across the screen (my inner-thoughts). I share my inner-most through the nature of my mind. I encourage. I build. I pour it out, and the world goes away — whoosh — it vanishes.

There was a time, about a decade ago, when I didn’t know that I had the itch (niche?) to write. One day, I heard an urging from God, “You will write.” I was mortified — me, write? I felt a response come forward, “Yes. I’ll put everything you need in your heart and head. You simply do the writing.”

I started a blog. Then another, and another (I currently have a handful here that are in operation, here, here, and here, and some are sadly neglected. Not for long.).

I don’t believe in putting all of your eggs in one basket come New Year’s Day. Goals, intentions, are hard to meet…but…I do believe in nourishing your soul. I believe when you are internally fulfilled, you are released to reach your full potential.

Today, my intentions are to reach that potential in 2018!

Let freedom ring! hpp

The 4th of July went deep with me when I was a child.

I felt the ingrained sense of “The land that I love.” I experienced a vast sense of honor, and a desire to stand “Stand beside her and guide her. Thru the night with a light from above.”

When our family enjoyed the holiday with our Army-based father in Fort Harrison, Indiana, we made it tradition to go fishing, hiking, to be a family and celebrate together, and we ended the day at dusk at the local Dairy Queen. I admit, a craving that I hold today — each and every 4th of July.  Summer sun, fireworks exploding into the early night sky, and ice cream go together. Right?

With the remnants of that sweet treat in hand, we drove a half-block away to the town park and watched the fireworks burst in the air. Boom…boom…boom rattled the ground, and with each shake, my heart swelled for America.

God Bless America…the land that I love.

What are your favorite Independence Day memories and traditions?


everlasting God

We were returning home from a motorcycle ride when we became separated by a traffic light. I knew my husband was ahead of me somewhere. As I neared our apartment complex on my bike, I saw that he was straddling the tracks of our entrance gate with his bike to keep the gate open for me. He is good like that.

When I pulled up beside him, he pointed to the ground and said, “I found something that you are going to love! You’ll have to get off your bike and look at it.”

In the concrete next to the gate were incredible words that had been inscribed when the entrance was built, “You are the everlasting God.”

Today, the first day of a new year, these words play in my mind like a beautiful song that repeats in my head after hearing it on the radio.

Everlasting: perpetual or enduring through all time, eternal.

I will establish my covenant as an everlasting covenant between me and you and your descendants after you for the generations to come, to be your God and the God of your descendants after you. (Genesis 17:7 NIV)

Our everlasting God! The One we love! His promise to us, an everlasting and personal covenant.

Your righteousness is everlasting righteousness, and thy law is the truth. (Psalms 119:142 KJV)

His truth. His truth, evermore!

Father, help us to keep our eyes on you, neither here nor there, but on you. Your promise is unbroken, may our promise to you in faith hold fast without blemish.

Do you not know?

Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He will not grow tired or weary,

and his understanding no one can fathom.

He gives strength to the weary

and increases the power of the weak.

(Isiah 41:28-29 NIV)

On this beautiful day, the day the Lord has given us, I am grateful for the inscribed words left for others to see. Thank you for bringing light to the world. Light filled with strength and power, through the sharing of God’s word.

God's peacemakers, children of God

As a child of God, remember this, “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” (Matthew 5:11)

You’ve heard the words “do not worry over the small things.” I believe, for children of God, everything is a small thing here on earth. Keep your sight on the finish line, for there are the big things.

Yes, unfortunately we are mocked when we say what we believe, and we are mocked when we do not say how we feel. For in our silence, we are judged. This is a form of persecution — an effort to steal our peace.

Satan is the author of confusion and frustration, he is not the King of Peace. Satan wants us to feel less than joyful, and he loves it when we believe the lies that he whispers in our ears, “When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.” (John 8:44)

“Blessed be the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” (Matthew 5:9) Follow the leading of the Holy Spirit, for God has a plan for you. The lies that the devil dishes out are of no substance.

There is work to do here, today, in our world. Let’s do it.

March on, Christian soldier.

french bakery www.hispasture press.com

Where this thought came from, I don’t know. A few nights ago I remembered a childhood friend and it dawned on me that I never got to see her grow up. I lost track of her. This is one view of growing up as a child of a father who was enlisted in the US Army, the difficulties, but let’s talk about the glorious ventures that a “military brat” can tell.

I started my life in Alaska. I do not remember any of it. My parents were very young, mom was in her upper teen years, and I was their first. They later showed me several color photographs of patches of lake ice that never melted. Dad told stories about their trips to the grocery store. While they were shopping the sun rose and set. It was dark when they went in and dark when they came out. He said that became depressing, to seldom see daylight during that season.

I was a toddler the first time we arrived in Indiana, and often when dad received a new assignment, we were stationed back in Fort Benjamin Harrison, Lawrence, Indiana, which is a town (suburb) of Indianapolis. We moved a total of five times within that same base in my first five years of life.

My father then received orders for France. I wrote a blog post about that adventure. It was amazing. Even though those two years in France were more than fifty years ago, I still have many fond memories. I remember my friends, the village that we lived in, the taste and smell of French food, the culture, gypsies in wagons, the architecture, and the beautiful countryside. School field trips to chateaus, surrounded by moats and garden mazes. Imagine unwrapped loaves of French bread displayed in cylinder shaped wire baskets on store floors. Locals rode their bicycles to the store, and left with a loaf of bread tucked under their arm as they cycled home.

We were then relocated back to Fort Harrison. We moved twice within the village, and then my parents rented a small mobile home on the fort for us to reside in while my father did a couple of years in Korea.

Living on an Army base was pretty cool. It was safe. Summer break was amazing. I think I lived in the huge concrete pool. I loved the forests in which we roamed and played. These were deep woods filled with stunning beauty and adventure. This particular area is now a state park. It is difficult for me to grasp that the broad area where I roamed is now a paid-to-enter state park.

My parents decided to purchase a home in Indianapolis and then my father was sent to Viet Nam, which became three difficult years of our lives. On one hand, my brother and I happily grew roots with the neighborhood kids, but there was a feeling of dark clouds and worry over our home. Dad was in a place so far away, and he was always in danger. Mom was pregnant with my baby sister, and times were tough.

After several years, we were sent to Baltimore, Maryland, which was a great adventure for me. I enjoyed the culture of the east coast. I made many friends, yet, I knew it would be a short-lived two years, and it was. I believe I can still smell those Chesapeake Bay crabs. Crab feast anyone? Baltimore tunnel, rush hour traffic?

We trekked back to Indianapolis, to our home that had been rented out in our absence.

I feel blessed in the respect that I got to see many areas of the world that others have not seen. I was taught to speak French in kindergarten and 1st grade. We attended day school, no half days, and we had lunch in the mess hall. Mess hall food was fantastic. I later discovered a rosemary lemon chicken recipe in a book authored by Julia Child, that mirrored one of our mess hall lunches. It was that good. I enjoyed a full life on the Army bases – movies, swimming, bowling, Girl Scouts, and I absorbed Sunday School once a week. I was active, busy, and I loved my activities.

Forming long-term relationships was difficult and that bit into me. Yet, it made me strong. I think this is a good thing, that we learn resilience and agility, and I feel – for me – this was God’s plan. We lived in diverse places, lived in close quarters with people from all over the United States and the world. I clearly remember an evening on the fort when I smelled Chinese food wafting from one door, and two doors down came the aroma of Italian, mingled with the scent of a German dinner from another few doors down.

I cannot imagine living in the same house, on the same street, for an entire childhood. Yet, sometimes I wonder just how that would be. So, this is your place and turn, tell me how you perceive it. If you were a child and had a choice, would you have formed deep roots in one place, or would you have preferred travelling? What was your experience?


dreamstime_s_61457120You’ve seen the videos of bulldogs surfing, riding a skateboard, or rolling down a hill. Mine does none of that.

When Diesel was young, around 9 weeks old, I didn’t think he liked me. I obviously did not understand bulldogs because that unhappy look became the stern typical bulldog look.

Of course, my husband reminds me that when we first got our bulldog I was taking an aromatherapy course and I involved with my projects. He endured. He knew where my trial products were stored and he stared at the drawer every night until I opened a bottle for him to sniff. He loved the lavender concoctions.

I never trained our boy to do the correct things, like sit, stay, or don’t jump on people. He does – or does not do – all of this on his own, but not because I’ve trained him. Instead, I taught him “Brain Waves.” Yes, he thinks it is a normal thing to put his forehead against mine while we stare into each other’s eyes.

He recently learned how to “shake” paws, but instead of a high-five (which I sometimes get him to do), he puts his paw in my hand and I have to rub it, count his toes, and talk to him in a soothing voice. He loves it. I think I do too.

He also has a turkey leg. When he was a pup he was trained by our elder female boxer to go outside and do his duty. She was a very obedient dog. Out they would go, and back in they came. No fencing, out in the country. One day he barreled in through back door and quickly walked by me. I reached down to touch the cute little independant bellow. His back leg shot out like a tiny turkey leg, straight out. He stood rigid on all 3’s. It was funny, you had to have been there. I ended up laughing with tears streaming down my face. To this day, his favorite thing is a rub on the front side of his turkey leg. He’ll flop over and fall asleep, snoring seconds later, after a late night turkey leg rub.

I know, this blog post is like hearing long stories about someone else’s children, which is nice for short periods of time, but eventually…yawn.

I want 2 or 3 bulldogs, but I have enough on my plate for now. Someday…someday.

If you want a well-behaved dog, this is the one to get. If you want a dog that does not drool. This is not the dog to get. If you want a dog that seldom needs maintenance. This is not the breed to get (I will explain in another blog post). If you want loyalty, this is the dog to get. If you want a dog that snores. This is the dog to get.

I love my boy.

What is your favorite dog breed? BTW…I like mutts too. Me and the dog from the third floor touch noses when she walks down the stairs. Yes, we go nose-to-nose when she reaches my level and she now expects it. Our lovely gift from God, animals for companionship and fun.