Showing posts from 2014

You Were Her Cowboy

    Kind and gentle, Patiently teaching little sister. You were her cowboy.   Loving and strong, Manly and tough, And sometimes a little rough. You were her cowboy.   Always a smile, Always rejoicing, Laughing and joking. You were her cowboy.   Strumming the guitar, Humming, whistling, singing, Writing a melody. You were her cowboy.   Working hard, Persevering, Never let life put you down. You were her cowboy.   Running the race, Always brave, Embracing life. You were her cowboy.   Young and handsome, Her older brother, Her hero, Her cowboy.       Written in loving memory of Micah who died 9 years ago today. Although Micah was never really a cowboy, he often wore a cowboy hat and sometimes dressed like one. His characteristics also remind me of that of a cowboy's. Lastly, cowboys are one of my biggest heroes in life and Micah is one of my biggest heroes, so I thought that it would be fitting to call h

An Epitaph To My Pen

Dearest Lovely Left-handers Pen, Alas, it is with much grief and sorrow that I lay thee down to rest forever more. Thee hast served me well and brought much joy and comfort to my life. Thee hast been a wondrous blessing to my life. Thee has filled many a page with tears of grief or shouts of joy. Thee hast born with me through the thick and the thin. Thou hast been my friend since the blest moment thee came into my possession. Thou hast born well my turbulent and tempestuous thoughts. Thee hast poured forth such beautiful and rich ink, yet alas, tis' time to lay thee aside, for thine ink hast been spent and runneth dry. I loved thee dearly, my lovely left-handers pen. May thee rest in peace forever more. Thy mission hast been accomplished. May the memory of thee live on forever.                                                                         Sincerely your left-handed companion,                                                                                         

He Gives Power to the Faint

"Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, 'My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God'? Have you not known? Have you not heard? ... The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. HE does NOT faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:27-31 My soul is weary, faint, and exhausted, yet I remembered these verse and they have been a source of great comfort and joy to my heart. These verses reminded me that no matter how weary I be and how weak and incompetent I feel, God, who is my creator, never grows weary or faint. He is the everlasting God and has crea

When Alone

When alone I imagine. Starry skies at night, Grassy meadows, Birds dancing in the air, Bare feet, Hair blown in the wind, Sunshine. When alone I remember still There are Mountains to climb, Valleys to survive, Storms will rage, Laughter at times, Yet still more tears to cry. When alone I feel. I feel a love From deep inside . A gentle love That never lets me go. God’s love That gives me life. When alone I Smile vaguely, Laugh quietly, Cry brokenly, Watch expectantly, and Wait eagerly. ~Hannah Grace~

Life is a Gift

I am sitting here at my kitchen table with the sunshine streaming through the window and surrounded by some of my favorite things. For the past couple hours I have been writing to friends from far away, friends who I have neglected, I must confess. School should not be an excuse for forsaking and neglecting good friends, so, my dear friends, I must apologize for neglecting you for so long. I am much grateful for lovely fall breaks that provide a time for recovering and an opportunity to remember once again my awesome friends and write numerous letters to dear ones around the world. So with colorful pens and paper I begin to write, a candle flickering and my tea cup of coffee (yes, I drink coffee from a tea cup and this is NOT the oddest thing I do.) within reach. I feel that the only thing I am missing is Peter Rabbit sitting on the table to cause a little mischief ( Beatrix Potter reference) and a quill pen with a bottle of ink to dip it in, but I will simply have to imagine these

Tears! Tears! Stop Your Flow!

Tears! Tears! Stop your flow! Stop soaking up my homework page. Please leave me alone and let me go. Tears! Tears! Stop your rage. I am not hurting, like at the loss of a lover, But hurting at the loss of my dear brother. Maybe it was 9 years ago. But years won’t let this hurt go. Tis’ a wound that cuts to the heart. I think of you, and it wrenches me apart. Twas’ like yesterday that I saw your smiling face, Yet its been too long since the last embrace. Day by day goes slowly by, I forget about your life that you once lived. But then I remember and I cry. Tears! Tears! Why be so sensitive? I have no time for crying any more. No time for wounds that cut to the core. My purpose in life is not yet complete. Oh tears, so bitter sweet! Tis’ a wound that can never be healed, Till I join you at the feet of the King of kings. Until then, I will learn to dance in the field. I will learn to laugh during the rain life brings.

Slow Down

    Cars speeding by, Honking horns, Screeching brakes. People hurrying here, And there; People everywhere; Yelling, screaming, Impatient to arrive. Always going, Never pausing. That’s how life In the city Goes. Time to pause; Time to think; See the beauty. Smile at the lonely. Watch the clouds Drifting across the sky. See the flowers In your neighbors garden. Feel the gentle breeze And breathe in the fresh air.   Take time to pause In life. Take time. See beauty there. Slow down and watch. See Beauty all around.

The Ice House Adventure

I lived in Minnesota for a whole winter and didn't go ice skating once, even though it is the perfect place to go ice skating being the land of a thousand lakes. Then I come back to North Carolina and go ice skating in an ice house during the summer. That sounds kind of backwards doesn't? :) Now ice skating is one, among a million, skills that I do not have. I simply was not born with the gift of moving on ice. So as you can imagine I move at a very slow tedious pace and even then I fall quite often. That is when I discovered that I ought to be very thankful God made me short. He certainly had a reason for it. He knew that some day I would be on ice and that the shorter I am the safer it would be. Small children on ice can be absolutely adorable, if they know what their doing, but I must admit they freak me out at times. For, although some of them are very good at skating, they don't always look where they are going or else don't take into account that there will b

Letters From Far and Near

Ever since I can remember being able to write, I have loved sending letters to friends from far and near. As a young girl, I always looked forward to and excitedly anticipated a letter in return which was part of my motivation for writing in the first place. But as I got older and those I wrote to got older, I knew that they may not have time to respond, but some how I knew that they would be blessed if I sent a letter anyway.  Writing handwritten letters through snail-mail may seem like an old fashioned, slow, and rather quaint past time communication. But I have been discovering, to my pure delight, that I am not the only one who wants to keep this old fashioned communication going.  There is true beauty, delight, warmth, joy, strength, and encouragement that can be found through simply writing a handwritten letter and sending it through the mail. There is beauty in the note card that was picked out for someone special. There is pure joy and delight that is found in se

Slaves of Righteousness

There seems to be so much talk in the Christian circle these days about the grace of God. God's grace is indeed wonderful and should be talked of much! Everyone of us would be destined to hell without God's grace. Yet I believe God's grace is being misused in today's Christian culture. So many Christians are willing to continue living a sinful life style, because God's grace has paid for there sins they argue. Yet this misuse of grace is not completely new to the church. One can find that Paul the Apostle had to confront this very issue in his letter to the Romans in chapter 6 specifically. He starts off saying, "What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it?" Paul says here that those who are in Christ have died to sin and are to no longer live in that sin. If sin has been put to death on the cross with Christ, than it can no longer have dominion in one's life ( 6:6-7

Every Life Tells a Story

I've always loved a good story. If someone has a good story to tell me then I 'm all ears. I love to find out a little about the back ground of someone; where they grew up, what kind of family they grew up in. knowing the kind of life someone lived, helps me to understand that person better. It helps me to understand why they might think or feel or talk or act a certain way. It gives me a new perspective of that person. Yet not only do I love to hear peoples stories, but for a long time now I have had a desire to write down peoples stories. There are so many people who may seem to have lived such an ordinary life, but if you sit and listen to their stories then you will find that their life isn't as ordinary as one may think. The truth is, I really can't say that anyone's life is completely ordinary, because God created every life and every life is a miracle and every life is unique with each person having their very own unique story to tell. So today I woul

Splinters and Knives

My little sister, Lydia, had a splinter in her toe this evening, so several of us all gathered around her ready to pull it out. My dad of course got out his knife, thinking that was clearly the best option. But I'll have you know, that she nor any of her sisters thought that was a good option. Known of us like the idea of having a knife digging into our foot, splinter or no splinter, thus, we all plead on her behalf. I stepped in and said I could pull it out with my fingers. So while I pull and push at it with my fingers, some are trying to comfort the poor girl and my dad is standing there insisting that he use his knife. In the meantime, Lydia, is making all kinds of funny noises and comments, because no matter how much pain she is in she always seems to say something funny and make us ( or at least me) laugh, even though we are trying to be all serious and be her doctor. Dad finally wins and gets to use his knife for a short time, but after a little bit of picking at it, I had

Grace is Stronger

When I fall, Grace lifts me up. When I fail, Grace stands strong. When I run, Grace holds me tight. Sin can't hold me down, Cause grace has set me free. Grace is stronger. Grace is stronger.

The Mischievous Sister

You know your little sister is up to mischief if she offers to give you a kiss. All I had to do was look into her sweet (not so innocent) face and see her lips covered in chocolate and I knew then and there that I did not want a kiss from her at that moment. It is not often that she offers to give me a kiss. :)  You know your little sister is up to mischief when she sits next to you and looks up at you with the sweetest smile on her face (or is that a smile of mischief that I detect). It wasn't long before I realized she had taken something of mine and was hiding it from me. Thus, began an intense game of chasing my sister around the house and playing scavenger hunt with much laughter throughout. I eventually took her watch to get her back, but in the end we gave back each others possessions. She loves to cause much mischief, but I am afraid she has a sister who has the same passion at times.;)

A Neglected Blog, Blackberry Brambles, and Summer Reading

I feel like this blog has been rather neglected. Now that does not mean that I completely forgot about this little blog. It simply means that I haven't written on it in a long time. I have thought about writing, yet every time I think about it I either don't have the time at that exact moment to do it or else I run into the scenario that I ran into today. That is, I sit down to write and I stare and I stare and nothing ever gets written. I feel that I must write something completely genius for anybody to ever want to even consider glancing at this silly little blog. I couldn't imagine who in the world would even want to read this blog, especially if that which is written is not some marvelous post full of beauty and ingenuity. Sometimes when I write I feel that it must be so profound that it must bring my readers to tears or else to hysterical laughter. I sometimes feel that it should be such profound thoughts that everyone would want to quote me for decades to come. But

A Praying Mother

Dear Mom, There are a gazillion reasons to be thankful for you this day and every day of my life. I haven't the time to list it all, but their is one thing that has particularly stood out to me over the years, that I will mention here. Prayer. You are a mother of prayer. I watched you pray fervently when Micah was sick. You never gave up and always held on to hope. I watched you pray in agony and tears when God took your son home to be with him. I know you did hurt and still do hurt, but even when you were weak and hurting you ran to God in prayer and found strength him. I have watched you pray for your children. You plead to the Lord that we all would walk in the fear of the Lord, because you know that he is the only one worth living for and you want us to know that too. You always take every problem to the Lord in prayer, because you know that he is the only one who can truly help. You pray for your husband and friends. You pray without ceasing for your non-believing family.

The Longings of a Country Girl

  I closed my eyes All became so quite I thought for a blessed moment That I was back in my home Back in the country Back in the hills Away from the city Away from the noise For one small moment All was still   I opened my eyes And reality came back But the dream was still there Oh to be back in the hills once more   To feel the crunching leaves beneath my feet To listen to the birds as they twitter and tweet To watch the squirrels scampering for nuts To feel my hair be whisked in the windy gusts To feel my cheeks be kissed by the sun To hear the gurgling laughter of the creek run Oh to back in the country once more   I want to hear the owls hooting at night Or the dogs barking up a fright I want to hear the cricket’s song again And watch the lizards as they skitter on the rocks Or watch the snakes slither into holes And rabbits jumping out from a bush Or the deer dancing and prancing with fleet Oh to be back in the

Our Mouth was Filled with Laughter

Dear Elisabeth, Happy birthday!!!!!! You probably thought I had forgotten what a gloriously special day it is, but hey, I remembered! It makes me smile to think that God gave me another little sister 17 years ago today. Another little baby to hold, another little sister to play with, a sister who is willing to laugh at all my crazinesses even if no one else laughs, a  sister who brightens my life with her laughter and makes me laugh even when I don't want to or else the sister I can make laugh when you don't want to. ;) There are very few people who understand my humor like you do and are willing to laugh with me. Sometimes all it took was to look at each other in the eyes and then we would lose it completely and start laughing hysterically. You not only bring much joy and laughter into my life, but you have taught me so much in life as well. You have taught me that it is ok to be myself and to be different from everyone else by your own example. You never seem worried

I am Small, Yet God is Big!

Every day brings reminders of how much I must depend on Christ for everything and look to him for grace. But some days have particularly strong reminders of my need for Christ and the realization that I am nothing apart from him. Tonight was one of those days. I attend a rather large church that is very theologically and Biblically sound, nevertheless, today was a fresh reminder that not everyone who goes to this church has theologically sound doctrine, such as the lady that I spoke to before the service. She said that true joy comes from being kind and not being mean. She told me that she didn’t need Jesus to make her good or to be kind, but that she is kind on her own free will. The more she talked the more heart broken I was for this woman. It would be easy in that situation to just agree with everything she said just to avoid controversy, yet I knew consciously that I could not be silent. I had to speak, yet how could I? How was I to explain to her the gospel of Jesus Chr


Sometimes its the little things in life that make one happy, such as...a leaf! My roommate and I were very excited to find a brown leaf on the ground today in downtown Minneapolis. For your information, this is a rare and precious sight for this time of year.  

The Fight Within

  She looked at it It looked so sweet and good It called her name. "Just one bite, Just one bite," it said.     It can't hurt... Or maybe it can. That is where the fight began.     Every fleshly desire Says take and enjoy. It will be good it says. "If it didn't hurt him, It can't hurt you."     But deep inside. She hears her Savior say. "Look at me! All you need is me!" He says.     It maybe sweet. It may be good. But in the end It burns, it kills. Don't partake of sin, He says.   "I love you more than that." He says. "Take joy in me, And let that be. Sin's joy is but a moment, But joy in me is for forever."     She stood still, And looked into his eyes. And then glanced down At the sweet sugary sin. He was right. It wasn't worth it. Not even a taste.   She looked back again At her Savior dear And held his h