I laid in bed afraid. Alone, vulnerable, it felt like simply closing my eyes was an invitation to injury. What if, a bad guy broke in? What if I really didn’t lock the back door? What if someone knew my husband was gone?
Darkness surrounded me – in more way than one – lately. In truth, these days, I felt unsure and tense. I was unable to let go. I was incapable of changing things back to the way they were – light. I was mad about it. I was mounting up frustration inside. I was taking it out on my family and unloading it in passive-aggressive ways.
Do you lay in the darkness today? Unsure? Tense? Unable to let go? Incapable to change anything?
In the dark, our irrational fears live (boogie men, bad guys or burdensome worries or worse). In the dark, life feels like it might fall down on us. In the dark, we can’t see our way. In the dark, we think we will never walk into light again. In the dark, we declare, we’ll always stubbing our toe. In the dark, we are left by ourselves to struggle with the shadow of depression, fear, health issues, failing relationships, marital issues, financial concerns or worse…alone.
What dark has convinced you – you’ll always be afraid?
Recently, I chatted with a friend, she said, “I used to be afraid of the dark.”
Of course, I understood this. I’m convinced, no one likes the pitch-black, you-can’t-see dark. Why? As I figure it, in the absence of light, we often feel absent of God. In the dimness of this world, it’s easy to let your heart turn dim as well. In the places we can’t see, we decide we’ll never find our way.
But, this friend had more to say. She spoke, “If you just turn your head, away from the darkness of your room, you can always find light. Starlight. Moon beams. Street lights. Reflective light. Car lights.”
The light is always out there. You just have to look for it.
It’s all about your perspective, I guess…
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. Jo. 1:5
Her words remind me: Jesus is the light. He is not able to be put out. His help is always with us. His reach is always towards us. His power is always moving, always casting, into our darkness. No power, no force, no scenario, no situation, no person – can overcome Him. He is more permanent than our dark rooms. He is more powerful than perceived problems.
What if we were to choose to see him instead of the darkness that surrounds?
What if we were to search for even the smallest ray of his light? How might it change things?
Friends, I’m also sharing on Sharon Jaynes blog, “God, will you come through for me?” and on Suzie Eller’s blog, “Faith when fear tries to run you over“. Two fabulous ladies, two fabulous blogs. I encourage you to check these out! Comment on their blogs for a chance to win a free book.
Now on with my post…
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“So, because you are lukewarm–neither hot nor cold–I am about to spit you out of my mouth.” Rev. 3:16
This. This verse right here. It gives me the chills. It’s one of those things that makes you sit up straight. It reminds me of coasting on a bike. The thing about coasting is – you can’t coast up to God, you’re always coasting somewhat downwards and away from him.
I don’t want to coast. I certainly don’t want to be looking at the world and living my life, only to die and find out – I was never really that close to him to begin with.
Whoops! Big Whoops! Eternal Whoops!
You all know I just wrote the book, Fear Fighting. So, it’s not that I have to fear what I am doing wrong, it’s just that I have to fear God. Get my eyes on him. Seek him. Be with him. Pursue him.
Like dominoes, everything falls in line when we do this. We get near him and he gets in us. I like that.
With this in mind here are my 25 Ways Not To Be Lukewarm:
1. Pray
2. Praise
3. Practically search out ways to love others
4. Read scripture
5. Ask God for help.
6. Submit all your plans to God.
7. Enjoy creation with God.
8. Remember Jesus and his sacrifice on the cross.
9. Forgive others.
10. Forgo anxiety and replace it with praise.
11. Encourage another person.
12. Hold fast to the belief that trials are training you into the image of Christ.
13. Grab on to faith, even when you feel like you are falling.
14. Thank God for everything.
15. Die to your selfish ways and live for Christ’s.
16. Renew your mind in truth, throughout the day, every day.
17. Worship through songs and Psalms.
18. Seek to understand others, verses judge them.
19. Ask the Holy Spirit to be your guide, then follow.
20. Seek holy in everything you do.
21. Put on the armor of God (Eph. 6)
22. Proclaim the gospel, no matter how scared you may feel.
23. Remember God’s faithfulness in the past. Speak it over your life.
24. Receive and extend grace. Repeat.
25. Uncover your heart and ready it for God’s transformation.
The good news is – even if we’ve lived lukewarm, we don’t have to fear our salvation. If we are saved, it is as done and done is done. We also don’t have to fear that we messed up, drifted away from God or turned our back for moment. Why? Because God’s love is greater than our deep worry we won’t be loved again. It extends beyond our feelings, thoughts and hurts. It reaches in – and once again – accepts us.
I snapped off the news. Nothing there but terrorism and guns. Who needs all that?!
My heart felt tired, unsure, but, all the same, I figured I should get with God. Maybe try to muster the strength to get up and fill my mind with excellence and good report.
“I should watch something uplifting.”
Unable to discern what, I just stayed put on the couch. Immobile. In tiredness. In a body unable to even gain the strength to end the day’s war under the covers of “tomorrow’s going to be better.”
I just lay there.
“God, why am I missing you lately? Why do you seem far?”
I got the sense of God whispering back to me, “Kelly, I am not far, you are.”
Am I?
I used to spend my days looking for God, now I spend my days looking at how I am messing up.
I used to offer thanks, now I offer myself solutions for how I can improve.
I used to consider momentary lessons, now I consider how God really needs to teach me a lesson.
I used to just delight with letting God be, now I pressure him to show up.
I used to let fears fly out the window, now I roll it up.
I press my eyes tighter and ask, “What happened God?”
I hear nothing. Figures.
I wait.
“You’re missing the moment where I am, because you fear the moments where you are.”
Lighten up.
Lay loose.
Live lightly.
Let in love.
Land in my arms.
Let me carry you.
Leave behind demands.
Let’s go.
My closed eyes – relax. God is inviting my mind to travel – with him. No demands. No requirements. No facades. No prerequisites. No achievements. No guilt. No shame required.
He wants my attention in the moment. So, without distraction, I can see him in the moment.
I open my eyes.
And then I see. God brings clarity: He loves me. He died for me. His light is always pursuing me.
My presence shall go with you, and I will give you rest. Ex. 33:14
It was a Friday morning and I was busily preparing for a surprise weekend getaway I had planned for my husband David, when my cell phone rang. It was hubby. I thought he was calling to tell me about his doctor’s appointment but instead in a bewildered voice he rambled off words that at first seemed nonsensical.
“I just got a call from Mr T. and… Cliff died this morning. Massive heart attack.“
I repeated the sentence several times in my head as if to process the bizarre message, I’m sure I didn’t hear correctly.
You see it couldn’t be true because Cliff, the dear friend and golfing buddy David spoke of was a larger-than-life kind of guy. He wouldn’t just die like that.
But it was true. In the time it takes for a heart to beat, his heart stopped. Forever.
His sudden death made me come face to face with a chilling truth.
I’ve been afraid to die.
It’s not that I don’t know where I’m going.
I do.
I believe with all my heart when I’m done with this earth I’ll see Jesus face to face and live for all eternity with Him.
When friends proudly proclaim, “I’m not afraid of dying” I want so badly to give a, “Yeah, yeah me too!” (High five, fist bump and all that.)
But I don’t. I’m silent.
I hate this fear, it feels so… faithless.
Digging deep, at first I thought it was the process that scares me. I’ve watched my mother and father pass and a few friends. Death ain’t pretty.
However when I honestly brought my contradiction of thought and faith to God, He gently brought to mind something from my past. Something I hadn’t thought of in a long time.
From as early as I can remember, probably about three years of age, my mom would tuck me into bed, turn out the lights and recite this brief prayer.
Before I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord for my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord for my soul to take.
And she wondered why I couldn’t go to sleep…!
I had all but forgotten this nightmarish rhyme. Though I have no doubt my Episcopalian mother was well-intentioned, I can say with reasonable accuracy, no three-year old understands the meaning of such words. To my little-girl ears they sounded mystical, scary.
I became frightened of this spooky God my mother prayed to Who might choose to take me in the night—stealing me away from my family, my home, my dolls. This life.
Of course I never wanted to shut my eyes. But what was worse, when I kept them open the Jesus-cross that hung by my beside stared at me in the dark with an eerie purple incandescence glow.
This is not at all the God I worship today. The God I know and worship doesn’t desire to scare little children, or anyone for that matter. He’s a gentle Father who promises hope (Jeremiah 29:11) and works all things together for our good (Romans 8:28-29).
However our past often paves the pathways in our future.
Sometimes with bold confidence. But many times with trepidation.
As it’s been in my case.
Has something from your past locked you into a feeling of apprehension, foreboding, phobias or panic?
Don’t allow any fear to steal your freedom. Ask God to unlock the past for you, releasing understanding—clarity.
Now that I can see my past world juxtaposed with my present I believe with God’s help and the power of the Holy Spirit I can dismantle the fears that threaten to unravel me and move forward to living this life as God meant—with abandon…and fist bumps.
You can too.
“I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold to it. But on thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13-14
***Get a kick-start on a fearless life with Kelly’s book,Fear Fighting.***
Looking forward, pressing on, and seeking God in every bump and twist in the road.
About Christy
Christy is a wife, mother, mother-in-law (soon to be grandmother), mentor, and speaker. Her passion is to encourage women to move forward, and press on while seeking God’s presence in every bump and circumstance they encounter.
Christy is also a girly girl at heart who chases tennis balls for recreation and at the end of the day does her best thinking in the tub.
Oh, I’ve made some mistakes. Some big ones. I am not proud of them either. At risk of you hating me, and of pigeonholing myself into the corner of worst-Christian-ever, I am going to share 12 things I wish I would have never done.
If Jesus tells us to confess our sins to one another, I guess, you can call this an uber-confession.
Now, as a disclaimer to the disclaimer I wrote above, I fully know, some things may make you feel uncomfortable, but what I hope is, by sharing, admitting and bringing to light my worst, we are all inspired to fully move into God’s best. There is power in acknowledgment, in stepping out in complete transparency, with the purpose of leaving behind what God never called us to carry ahead.
So without further ado…
15 things I wish I never did as a Christian:
Critiqued the Pastor’s Sermon: He’s boring, self-indulgent, missing the point, too knowledge focused, too story-focused, too animated, not animated enough or missing the point.
Decided myself more holy than others. At times, I’ve worn a church-going halo, while internally criticizing the gal who hasn’t said hello to church in weeks.
Believed I need to be less Jesus-y. Thinking, if I shine too bright, people’s eyes may bug out in fright. If I show my strong love for Jesus, they may run away thinking I am a bible bumpin’ freek-a-zoid.
Kept up with the Jesus Joneses’ on Social Media. If my image isn’t pretty enough, calligraphy’ed enough or bright enough, I figured God’s Word wouldn’t be appealing enough to the masses.
Made an exasperated sigh at mention of, yet-again, another sermon on tithing, its merits and why I’m completely, entirely, and utterly missing out – and impacting the church in a horrible way – if I don’t drop my wallet in the basket.
Figured humility was about: 1.) Never accepting compliments 2.) Believing you couldn’t really do things 3.) Acting like you hated yourself.
Received grace only after acting godly enough and/or hard enough to receive it. Usually allowing myself 3 days to writhe in anxiety and worry before letting in what Christ already accomplished. Keeping company with shame.
Decided that girl is not a Christian because she didn’t say hi to me, lied to me or brushed by me – 3 too many times.
Believed to “deny myself” and to “live for Christ” meant I skip past who God made me to be, to jump ahead to who – you, or others – desire me to be. I forgot my God-given voice.
Made snap-decisions on the motives and heartbeat of non-believers without wanting – to know them, their problems or their setbacks in life.
Forgot the poor. Walked right past them.
Lived a life in pursuit of getting my latte, my life in order or my late self to my next place.
Missed the opportunity to wear glasses of love.
Placed my sin on a scale. Gleefully, watching the lead load of other’s sin crash low – while seeing the feather-light weight of mine – fly high. Who made me judge?
Found myself worried about, focused on and tightly gripping many things, instead of falling in love with the One and Only thing (the King) that matters – God.
This list is a petri-dish of ugly. My go-to instinct is ugly. My new identity in Christ – is beautiful.
What is your ugly? What judgment lurks behind the doors of your mind? What Christian shame has crept up on you like a night crawler ready to attack?
It is not too much for God. It is not too great for his healing hand. It is not going to disqualify you from heaven, I assure you.
“Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me.” (Ps. 51:10)
Prayer: Dear God, I am far from the image of glowing Christian. I am far from kind, some days. I do things, in my head, that would embarrass me greatly if they came out of my mouth. Sometimes, I feel ashamed of that. I ask you to teach me your ways. I ask you to lead me in your grace. I ask you to forgive me for the ways, I’ve hurt you and others intentionally or unintentionally. Will you restore my heart in peace and trust? Will you help me know that what I’ve done no longer stands against me? You stand for me. You stand with me. You mark me forgiven. In the name of Jesus, I pray, Amen.
I didn’t know her well, although I suspected she was a kindred spirit. We shared similar titles of: worship leader, songwriter, adoptive mama, and blogger. Yet mostly, we shared the byline, “Daughter of the King.”
We broke soul bread over tea, smoothies and scones. Preferring heart talk to small talk, we dug in. Nuggets of gold emerged as we shared stories of God’s faithfulness at the table. Right there in Panera, we had church as we testified to the goodness of our Father and uplifted each other with words of hope.
She shared about victory. I shared about grace. And we learned from each other’s hangups and breakthroughs.
I thought I had her pegged, until she shared how she feared being seen. Even though her ministry and creativity were public, she preferred to hide and blend in.
I, on the other hand, confessed my fear of being invisible. Being overlooked, forgotten, or ordinary are what I run from. I usually want to stand out, to speak up, and be seen.
It sounds bad, I know, but this is a place for authenticity, right? And my hunch is I’m not alone. And neither is my friend.
Some of us fear being visible. Others of us fear being hidden. And sometimes we fear both.
If I blend in, will I become invisible?
If I stand out, will I be embarrassed?
I fear both invisibility and embarrassment.
Concealed and Exposed
It’s vulnerable to feel exposed—to be paraded in front of others and scrutinized for how we look, act, and what we say. We wonder if we have spinach between our teeth (or chocolate cookies stuck to our molars) as we offer the message that’s been entrusted to us. Will they laugh at us? Will they listen? Will the insecurities show through our coordinating ensemble?
You don’t have to rely on the fleeting acceptance of man. God’s acceptance is rock-solid. #fearfightingbook
It’s lonely to feel concealed—to be masked from view and not really feel known or understood. We wonder if who we are is enough and fear what might happen if we are called upon to share. Will they laugh at us? Will they listen? Will the pounding heart and wobbly knees show through our security blanket?
Are we the women people fight to have by their side? Or are we busy trying to run and hide? #fearfightingbook
Not Alone
Fear could have kept my friend and I from meeting that evening, but we pushed past it, and we both left richer.
She didn’t hide, and through her brave words, I began to see more clearly. I didn’t conceal that which embarrassed me, and with courage, I did not edit my imperfections.
Two fear fighting women met for bread and drink and Hope showed up.
Jesus’ body was broken and His blood was spilled on our behalf. He showed up and we are never the same.
We are not alone. We can overcome that which threatens to conceal and expose us, because Jesus has already overcome! He uncovered our sin and provided a way for it to be removed.
Jesus exposed His great love for us by dying for our sins. He has given us everything we need to be victorious. His Holy Spirit is the greatest fear fighting tool, and we carry it within us.
Get all the Purposeful Faith blog posts by email –click here.
Katie M. Reid is a writer and speaker who encourages others to find grace in the unraveling of life. She also inspires women to embrace their identity in Christ and live out their God-given purpose. Katie delights in her hubby, five children, and their life in ministry. Cut-to-the-chase conversation over hot or iced tea is one of her favorite things.
Have you ever gotten permanent marker on your hands? Maybe you did a project or just got a little wild on paper. Either way, when you get marker on you, it is a bear to get off. You can scrub, and scrub and scrub and sometimes – it can take days and days to get off. It sticks.
Press hard. It still sticks.
Add more soap. Even more it sticks.
The same is for Jesus’ blood. It sticks. Jesus’ blood is not washed off by I-should-have-done-that moments. It not removed by an off thought. It is not erased in accordance with our doubts.
Where have you felt that the full atoning sacrifice of Jesus is not enough? Maybe you feel like you’re a bad wife? Your past marks you a bad child in the mind of God? Your failings disqualify you from God’s goodness? Your shame will never go away?
I make repeated mistakes. I think this is what most aggravates me. I go back to the well of I-am-sorry 100% in a week. Then, I start to think, “God, if I’m always having to say, ‘I am sorry’, what good am I?’” I start to think, “Daughters of a good daddy don’t shun him away.” I follow the lie that says, “I will never improve.”
Jesus’ blood seemingly washes off of me – in my mind, but in truth, Jesus blood will always cover my heart – through my life.
Do you believe you are covered by God? Jesus’ blood shed for you is as permanent as the blood that is in you. If you are his, he is yours.
If you are in Christ, his protective armor of grace – his blood shed on the cross – is always over you. It is like a force field that cannot be broken. It is a rainbow that always reminds you of his faithfulness. It is an umbrella that protects you from your worst errors.
What miracle Jesus did on the cross, cannot be broken by the mess we do in a day.
And by that will, we have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. Heb. 10:10
In this, as I reflect on my story, the story that plays in my mind at night – the one that plays on repeat…me, not being so nice, so instructive and so godly with my kids, I am struck by this: Jesus Christ’s blood, his forgiveness of my sin, sets me off on a fresh course of freedom the next morning.
Will you let Jesus sacrifice sit permanently, like a mark of his great love for you, on your heart, mistakes, and inadequacies?
The sitter said he had an earache, but I had no idea it was this bad. No idea. Not the kind of bad where the kid shrieks like a wild coyote. If I’d known I would have been home earlier.
I rushed the five-year-old to urgent care. Of course, one step in that germ-laden place and I realized we were bathing in a pool of flu.
Time passed….Ahchoo!
More time passed…cough, cough! More time passed…nose blowing! Nothing. Germs grew legs and seemed to walk right on us.
With a crying kid in my arms, I felt like crying too. Apparently, some people had been waiting over an hour and a half. We were getting nowhere and son was getting ansy…
“Get me in there, mommeeeee….it hurts so bad…”
All I could think was, “Mommy bear. Must. Save. Baby. Cub.”
I rushed the desk, but the desk soldiers appeared unimpressed with my strategies. Perhaps, to appease me – or to get rid of me – they sent me upstairs to the soon-to-be-opening unit. “There, you may have better luck,” they said.
Once upstairs, I saw my opportunity – the nurses, fresh meat, waiting to start their job, waiting for the onslaught of sickness to hit… I approached them and explained son’s pain, his tears and us not wanting to be exposed to the flu. I told them we REALLY, REALLY, REALLY (wink! wink!) were excited to see them. We, then, sat down.
Before not too long, elevators pushed open and the other sicklings walked in.
Now, I wish I could tell you I’d been more compassionate. In retrospect, it would have been delightful if son and I had prayed for them. It would have been extraordinary if we reached out in their time of need. It would have been a great story if we smiled and changed their day, but, nope – that’s a devotional for a different day. All I could see was – son.
And, all God can see is us.
You know, parents go to any lengths to take care of kids in trouble.
I went to – whining, pleading and strategizing lengths – to get my son through that waiting room door. And guess what? It worked.
Those nurses I sweet-talked got us in that office ASAP. My efforts counted.
Are you in trouble?
Do you believe you have a parent pleading on your behalf? Fighting for you?
You know, my son, as he sat in that waiting room, he kept asking,”Why don’t you fix things, Mommy? Why can’t I get where I want to go?”
We’re just like him.
We think God has left us in a waiting room, with infected people and a whole gamut of issues that will never be resolved. He hasn’t. He’s working on things. There is a process. There will be a cure forthcoming. We need only hold tight.
While we are silent, God is fighting for us (Ex. 14:14). While we wait, the Spirit is pleading for us (Ro. 8:26). While we don’t know the way, God is unfolding it (Prov. 16:9).
Know today, your ailment is a grand appointment to meet with a good, good God.
Today is a day I like to call “Choose Your Own Adventure.” Why? Because with the release of my book, Fear Fighting: Awakening Courage to Overcome Your Fears, I’ve written a bunch of different guest posts around the web. Now, you get to pick your own adventure.
I am afraid of many things; flying, heights, spiders, the demise of one of my loved ones, egg salad, and weight gain, just to name a few.
Within the last year, I have added a new fear to my list… failure.
In the midst of this new terror, I made a friend. At first, she wasn’t a friend, although she didn’t know, I was intimidated by her. I saw her message as a threat to my message. Which was, altogether inaccurate.
As our relationship progressed, she invited me to become a regular contributor here, on her website. Her book, Fear Fighting launched this week. In perfect harmony with my new fear of failure, her book has been salve to my wound.
A few nights after her book was featured on the Today Show by Kathie Lee Gifford, I climbed into bed to read more of Kelly’s beautiful paperback. After a couple chapters, I rolled over to go to sleep and I went to work on my shortcomings, my inabilities, and disabilities. I fell asleep afraid my book would fail. I began to compare the beauty of Kelly’s manuscript with the folly of mine.
I distinctly remember praying, “God, I am afraid I can’t do this…”
And I dreamed.
It was a vivid dream. I dreamed I was watching Kelly speak and white butterflies flew about every time she spoke of the Jesus she adores. In my sleep, I dreamt that I told my husband, “When Kelly speaks of Jesus white butterflies appear.” My husband brushed me off as silly. In this reverie, I went on to dream that I was meeting Kelly at my alma mater by a fountain. My husband came with me and when Kelly and I met and hugged white butterflies exploded in the evening sky and we laughed and danced. My husband knelt and began to pray for us.
I sat upright in the bed. The dream still fresh in my mind, I reached for my iPhone to check the time. I had only been asleep a few hours. Shaken by the mystery, I decided to flip through my phone and consider. I opened my Facebook, the first thing in my feed was a picture my friend, fellow author Rachelle DeNecochea had posted. It was the image of a painting Rachelle’s husband gave her for Christmas.
The painting, by artist Melissa Paddock, was of two girls dancing in the moonlight with white butterflies in the sky.
I was undone.
Here is the thing. I am not in any way insinuating Kelly and I are some grand prophetesses. What I am implying is, my God knows me so well.
I am more than suggesting, He met me where I was in my fears. The dream? I would have easily brushed it aside as my tiny brain having a playdate of non-sense. But I fully believe God didn’t intend for me to dismiss it.
My fears of failure are not from Him or of Him.
He has blessed me with opportunities, outside of anything I could have wished or hoped for – opportunities to speak about how magnificent He is.
You can call it a coincidence.
My husband is certain I saw the painting before I fell asleep. I won’t argue with him, my phone was dead when I plugged it in and picked up Kelly’s book. I believe that God wanted to encourage me. I am confident the dream and the painting were meant to minister to me. I have faith that Jesus knows me, and is available to ease my terrors and worries with signs and wonders. As Kelly says, “Faith is the thing that makes little warriors do big things.”
Certainly, He is all that is right with me. The fear doesn’t come from Him, only the comfort does. And I need not worry about my abilities, as I read Kelly’s words the next day I was further convinced, “It’s not about ‘my’ abilities that make me able but God’s capabilities, that make me more than able.”
I am encouraged like never before.
Truly, as many the years, I have spent in fear, I fully intend on spending the next years brave.
I will watch more closely and with a new found eagerness for Him to reveal things to me, and my faith will allow me to believe. He is the master of words, maestros of symphony, and a virtuoso of every canvas and coloring page.
I choose to believe He will move in every aspect of my life. When I am weak, He is strong. When I am strong, He is my strength.
I encourage you to grab a copy of Kelly’s book and “let the creator re-sketch your scenery of fear into faith…”
The season of bravery is upon us, the time of freedom is at hand. The tools for breaking down your bondage are available.
Dear Captives, be set free.
“I will not be shaken for God is right beside me.” Acts 2:25
Get all Purposeful Faith blog posts by email –click here.
“The Sway” image was used with permission from the artist Melissa Paddock.
Jami Amerine is a wife, and mother to anywhere from 6-8 children. Jami and her husband Justin are active foster parents and advocates for foster care and adoption. Jami’s Sacred Ground Sticky Floors is fun, inspirational, and filled with utter lunacy with a dash of hope. Jami holds a degree in Family and Consumer Sciences (yes Home Ec.) and can cook you just about anything, but don’t ask her to sew. She also holds a Masters Degree in Education, Counseling, and Human Development. Her blog includes topics on marriage, children, babies, toddlers, learning disabilities, tweens, teens, college kids, adoption, foster care, Jesus, homeschooling, unschooling, dieting, not dieting, dieting again, chronic illness, stupid people, food allergies, and all things real life. You can find her blog at Sacred Ground Sticky Floors, follow her onFacebook or Twitter.