Articles

Relationships. They’re difficult because they involve people — imperfect people. And it’s usually those we’re closest to who can inject the greatest heartache. Especially in times of struggle, we want to provide support and unconditional love. But in our attempts to be a voice or shoulder of encouragement, can we actually be doing more harm than good? Is it possible that unconditional love can be taken for granted or become enabling? In extreme cases, such as abuse or addicti

Noise surrounds us at every turn. Each moment countless voices compete for our attention, and without our knowing it they can slowly begin to mold our thoughts and shape our path. The voices in our lives may very well determine our destiny. The reality is that the world speaks to us all the time, so we need to be intentional about which voices we will accept as credible and which ones we will ignore. Behind everything we read is a source, a person who created it; and his/her

Internet dating leaves me unnerved. Old photos and embellished profiles create people who don’t exist, while chatting it up with complete strangers feels unnatural and frankly dangerous. So you can imagine my dismay when my mom declared, “I’m ready to meet someone. I want to go on the computer.” I hoped my response would be convicting, “What? Mom, you are surrounded by so many new people where you live. Why go looking for strangers on the Internet? It’s not safe.” I figured i

Soon after arriving at the Albuquerque airport to begin my journey home, I dug into my bag for one of three journals specifically packed for the trip. This would be my first diary account of the week. Journaling is not always a customary activity on vacations, but I had just spent the last five days at a writer’s retreat, with daily writing prompts to journal, so I decided I should make at least one entry before departure. I had no excuse. The opportunities for inspiration we

I became speechless the moment I met Dawn Finbloom. By some “coincidence” I ended up having coffee with her days after my first newspaper column, “No Permanent Damage,” went to print. In it, I wrote some time-tested advice to help college students avoid making poor choices — choices that could land them in jail or the hospital. Ironically, there I was face-to-face with someone living the reality of a bad decision that had caused the ultimate “permanent damage” to her son, Bre

Me. Me. Me. It seems to be the theme in our egocentric world. How will this product make me look younger? How does this election affect me? What can I do to feel better about me? How does this selfie make me look? Will this relationship help me? Do you like me? What about me? Frankly, I’m sick of me. I focus too much on myself. And last Sunday I was challenged to see beyond myself when I heard Pastor Aaron’s Brockett’s thought-provoking question, “What is it like to live on t

I don’t want my kids to “be happy.” It’s not my goal. There, I said it. It’s not a statement I make lightly. It’s one I have ruminated on for years and especially recently, on Mother’s Day, as I reflected on my role and purpose as a mom. It’s not that I have anything against being happy. Happiness is fantastic — I enjoy those moments, reflect on those memories, and hope that happy days will arrive more often than sad ones, especially for my children. The problem I have with h

Chatter filled the room as we squeezed through the crowd between clusters of reuniting friends. We didn’t know a soul, so we retreated to our room until the opening dinner in the hotel’s huge ballroom. There we sat at a table tucked in the back and, by the end of the night, made two new friends. We were a mother-daughter pair of newbies. Actually, we were known as virgins, officially “Erma Virgins” to be clear and precise as all writers should be — a tip gleaned in the days t

It was a clarifying moment as the words etched on my mind transferred themselves from my fingertips to the screen before me. The idea went something like this: When defeat or despair arrives at your door, it can actually be an opportunity. Yes, I said O-P-P-O-R-T-U-N-I-T-Y. This seemingly outlandish idea was triggered by a quote I stumbled upon in R. Scott Rodin’s Stewards in the Kingdom — A Theology of Life in All Its Fullness. I found it among the pile of thick seminary boo