Open Window

Nine years ago today we met our older son. The past nine years have been the blink of an eye and yet forever, all at the same time.

Advent simply nudges us to make space in our lives for Jesus. It assures us that the Son of God is coming.

We’re losing power for most of the day tomorrow. I know we’ll lose most of the food in our fridge, so we’ve been eating and eating—but we’ve barely made a dent.

~1~ Despite all my worry that the frozen turkey wouldn’t thaw in time, it thawed beautifully, and it cooked up even more perfectly. I watched my father pull it out of the oven, and it was gorgeous—and delicious. Everything tasted so good this year—my mother’s carrots and onions casserole, the mashed potatoes and gravy, the […]

It snowed yesterday! I had seen that snow and sleet were in the forecast, but so often storms don’t amount to much—especially in mid-November.

You wonder why God would ask that of you at a time when your jar of flour is nearly empty and your jug is nearly dry.

Grieving Together is both beautifully and practically written. It is, in fact, the book Laura and Franco wish they had had when they miscarried their third baby.

This pot of slops wasn’t looking very exciting, so I pulled a packet of onion soup mix out of the pantry. Onion soup should be able to jazz almost anything up.