Brandon Shares Great Wisdom

If you don’t follow Brandon J. Adams, you should. His point of view brings a sigh of relief whenever I get fearful that the generation following this one might not have the answers to get us through.

Clearly, Brandon’s insight proves that God’s folks are alive and well, lined up for years to come.

Check out his latest post, How to Let Go of Our Christian Heroes. Let him know your thoughts. I’m sure he’d love to hear them. He’s that kind of guy.

For the Love and Lives of Others 

My heart aches over the recent activity in Charlottesville, Virginia. How did we get here? Where do we go next? Lori Roeleveld’s August 12th blog post gave a voice to my heart as I weep for us–all of us. And her words gave me hope as well.

Join me in praying for this country–all of us–as we sort out the chaff around us to see what the issue really is. https://loriroeleveld.com/blog/the-act-of-worship-we-must-commit-to-impact-charlottesville-and-beyond/

Sheila Walsh’s, “In the Middle of the Mess”

I’m super excited about Sheila Walsh’s newest book, In the Middle of the Mess coming out this fall.

Hear a well-known Christian speaker talk about Christianity’s tabu subjects. Hear her heart–raw and transparent–as she shares, “brokenness is always the beginning of healing.”

Anticipating this book is just about as exciting as getting ready to review it.

The Downside to Knowledge

I met with a friend recently who was suffering from a crushed spirit. The reason? He was alone. There were few people in his life who were willing to help carry his particular heartfelt burden. My soul ached for him. When we got together to discuss his dilemma, my plan was to offer what I had: compassion and hope. To my disappointment however, he wasn’t interested in either. Instead, he commenced in telling me how his knowledge of the facts around his quandary should be enough to get him through.

Relying on knowledge was his ruin. Continue reading

Regaining Social Skills after A Brain Injury

If you’ve followed my blog for any time at all, you’ve seen shared posts from people I highly respect for one reason or another. Today I’m sharing a post from Michelle Munt, a brain trauma survivor. She’s battled back and continues to gain momentum in her journey of healing–and we’re all on a journey of healing, right?

https://www.jumbledbrain.com/2017/07/17/shy-sociable-brain-injury/

Writers, Do You Have Any Idea What You’re Doing?: A Review

Like most authors, my goal as a writer is to weave words into a beautiful tapestry; thoughts that take the reader’s breath away. To do this, I grab time when I can. While doing laundry or cooking dinner … or instead of doing laundry or cooking dinner.

But when I see it happen–when I read a piece that tightens my chest and stays with me for days–I know I’m in the presence of brilliance and need to share it with the world. That happens many times when I read Lori Roeleveld’s work.

Check out her latest piece. Find out why writers write. 

This may help those who live with writers understand why their clothes may still be in the hamper or their dinners periodically get burnt.

Thank you Lori.

Memories of Treasures Long Ago

Dad_Robin Lk Lavine (2)

J. G. Gilbert & Robin Gilbert Luftig at Lake Lavine, MI, Summer 1958

Even though my family of origin was pretty dysfunctional, one of my favorite pastimes, when I’m feeling a bit low, is to remember stories about my dad and how he honored my feelings and held them close to his heart.

I always jumped at the chance to be with Dad in his room—the Gun Room. It was a treat to steal away with him when he went upstairs to his room. He kept guns, cameras, family photos and film equipment, and special sentimental pieces from his childhood there. I am certain he kept us out for our own protection when it came to the guns. We were all told the only time we were allowed to go in there by ourselves was if the house was on fire and we could safely get the family’s 8mm films out and save them from being destroyed. Other than that, the Gun Room was strictly off limits. Whenever I saw him in there, I would beg to join him. And he always obliged. While he worked away on whatever project he was concentrating on, I looked around his private sanctuary with marvel. I would fold my arms behind my back holding tightly on to my wrists, just to make sure I did not touch anything. I did not want to run the risk of inadvertently grabbing for something and causing harm.

Continue reading