Outdoor Walk

by   August 5, 2024 with No Comments

By Rhonda Sassano

I was taking my morning walk, and one of my favorite songs started to play.  I relished the familiarity for a moment and, forgetting I was wearing earbuds, joined the vocalist singing, “How deep the Father’s love for us… how vast beyond all measure…that He would give His only Son…and make a wretch His treasure…How great the pain of searing loss…The Father turns His face away….as wounds which mar the Chosen One…bring many sons to glory.”  The truth of those words really hit home all of a sudden.  Did the Father trade His most precious son for me, for someone who really is a wretch? I truly am a worthless worm, and I deserve absolutely nothing!  How could the Father possibly love me so much? As I was trying to think of an analogy to express my heart, I thought of one of my young clients.  This client has several habits that are not only annoying but downright infuriating, and all of my skills are constantly tested by his behaviors and whole-body eye roll.  Yes, definitely my least-favorite person, I thought.  Then I wondered, is that who I am to the Father?  Annoying and infuriating even?  His least favorite person, perhaps, with all my disobedience and certain-that-i-know-best attitude.  Yes.  The Father choosing me over His Son would be like me giving up my most precious, beloved, treasured, and highly-valued son, Victor!  In essence, “trading him in” for my very least favorite person! I thought my heart would burst at just the thought… 

And I imagined this scene:  I am sitting on a throne, staring Victor in the face and I’m pointing to the exit sign.  And then I turn my head, so I won’t see him walk away; but now I am looking directly into the face of my least favorite person… and Very Least Favorite isn’t even vaguely aware of the sacrifice that just occurred… an extreme, anguish-filled, heart-wreaking sacrifice!  For his benefit; for his promotion; for his eternal blessing and glory!  I cannot even speak these words without emotion swelling, and overtaking me… What a scene in heaven that must’ve been… What do you think the angels must have thought and felt? The only grace is that they already had a full understanding of the Father‘s heart, that it was never to send Jesus away, but it was the only way to grant us access to relationship with Him.  If I had been standing there that day among the Angels, human as I am, I think I might have run up to Father and grabbed his hand, and demanded that he not allow this atrocity to happen! Oh Father!  This sacrifice will never be worth it!  Look again at the one your Son is being sacrificed for… And realize that least favorite person will never return the feelings, the love, the vulnerability, the intimacy, that You have experienced with Your Son.  Least Favorite could never possibly measure up in even one area!  

And I can see and feel the Father placing His hand on my head and then sharing with me that it was Jesus’ desire to be the sacrifice! He actually counted it an honor and privilege, even, to serve the Father, and each one of us, in that way. He gently reminded me that Jesus had already walked through the pain, the betrayal, the frustration, because time doesn’t apply to Him the way it does to me.  And somehow, because of his love for us, He found it bearable… And not only bearable, but Jesus counted it J O Y !  I can see myself, knees melting, trembling hands clinging to the Father‘s feet and begging for an explanation.  Father utters only one word:  “LOVE.”  Those fiery, intense eyes become so kind and tender and gentle that I throw my arms around his neck and smother Him with kisses.  When I pull away to take a breath, Jesus is right there, scars and all, glowing with glory.  “It’s done.  I did it for you, precious Rhonda.  And I cannot wait to be with you forever!”  My heart is thrilled beyond description, literally tingling with His nearness… my breath catches in my throat as Least Favorite glances in my direction.  I’m so sorry, Jesus.  Please, please forgive my, my …. You see my heart, Jesus.  You know it’s been .. not right from the beginning with this client.  But the circumstance wasn’t his fault and even if it was, I still can easily afford to extend a little grace to him.  You’ve given me so much!  Sacrificed your whole life me!  How can I withhold from him patience and a real effort to understand?  I cannot.  I choose to let You soften my heart towards him.  Help me extend just a little bit more of the compassion and mercy You have never withheld from me.  

The screech of a hawk soaring above jerked me back to reality.  My pace quickened to make up lost time, the rush of wind helping dry the dampness on my cheeks. 

What a beautiful gift I had been given… more grace and mercy from my ever-loving, ever Present, ever-encouraging Father and Savior!  I only pray that my impact on Least Favorite will be such that he, too, will recognize, appreciate, and embrace the sacrifice made for him.  

“God is not looking for those who can but those who will.”

Which Light Leads Me?

by   August 4, 2024 with No Comments

By Ashlie Miller

“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path” – Psalm 119:105.

Usually, on morning walks, I snap photos with my iPhone of flowers, plants, occasionally a critter, and sometimes the sunrise. Lately, I have been distracted by lampposts that are still lit in my neighborhood well after sunrise. If it was a dark winter morning and especially if it was snowing, it might feel magical—like walking among Narnia. But in the humid, bright summer, it just seems silly and unnecessary.

It is like the many competing voices after the Olympic opening ceremony in Paris or any recent event where multiple views can exist. We invite them into our lives most days by scrolling online on our platform of choice.

I read one such post earlier this week as I began my day – which was a mistake, for I should have christened the day by opening God’s Word. It was yet another voice telling us all how to interpret and how to feel. I felt aggravated and then angry, but I knew enough about myself and past missed opportunities on restraint not to comment or share. Still, I was frustrated. I shared that frustration with my husband, and then I just sat on the porch, prayed to my Father, and asked Him what to do with myself, my feelings, my interpretation, and my understanding. How do they matter, if they matter at all?

God met me right there in my prayer and reading. Not one, but two of my reading plans for that day had me in Psalm 7, where I read that “God feels indignation every day” – EVERY DAY. As one Bible study friend said, “Not just in the future where He will judge rightly, but even right now, today!” The Olympic ceremonies represented yet another day that God was indignant. Regardless of the intended messages of the event, it should be no surprise that the godless either inadvertently or intentionally devise wickedness. Psalm 7:14, says “the wicked man conceives evil, is pregnant with mischief, and gives birth to lies.” What a picture!

I read that He was indignant; now what? In another reading for that day (Psalm 37), I learned about God’s thoughts on evildoers and what their end will be. My response as a Christian? – to “trust him, be still, refrain from anger, forsake wrath, fret not yourself” because of those evildoers. Next in my scheduled readings were chapters 67 and 97, declaring God’s sovereignty and rule over the nations that will rejoice because of His judgments and that those who love the Lord should hate evil. Wow.

I wrote plenty of notes to teach myself and remind myself of what God wanted me to know. Then, I thanked God for being the only voice that matters to speak into any situation. His Word shines brighter than artificial implements.

Tomorrow’s news or feed will no doubt provide another opportunity to be reactive or quickly like and share someone else’s ideas. Be careful of subtly distracting enlightenment cloaked in self-proclaimed authority, especially unvetted religious authority. If God’s Spirit lives within us and we can read and understand God’s Word ourselves, we already have what we need to light our path clearly and brightly, and that is enough.

Ashlie Miller and her husband raise their five children in Concord, NC. You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

A Second Harvest

by   August 3, 2024 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            My garden has been weighing on my mind. With all the hot weather I haven’t wanted to work in the garden. The recent slightly cooler temperatures encouraged me to get out there. The weeds had taken over in two of my raised beds. I wanted to take back my garden beds and get them growing vegetables again.

            I got two wheelbarrows full of weeds and spent vegetables out of the garden. I did get a small harvest of potatoes and butter beans out of the weeds. I was glad to get something out of that space. Once the weeds were gone I planted seeds in hopes of getting a nice fall harvest.

            Most years I try to replant my garden around the beginning of August in hopes of getting a second harvest. It is normally hot so I will work late in the evening when it is cooler. I have actually been out there as late as midnight, weeding and planting my garden. I worked until about dark getting the two beds cleaned out and planted.

            Last fall we got some of the best green beans that I have ever grown. We are hoping for the same result this year. I always plant some sunflowers for the birds. I have tried some broccoli and lettuce. I tried some pumpkins a couple of times but they weren’t ready for Halloween. One year I had a good crop of peas and beans but lost them all to an early freeze.

            I never know what will produce and what won’t before we get a frost. Some years I have gotten lucky with some late tomatoes. It is hard to imagine cold weather when we are so hot. I have been lucky with late gardens in recent years, but gardening is a game against Mother Nature. Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose.

            I am not a big gardening gambler. I will wait until the average last day for frost before I plant and I will use sheets to cover plants if a frost is possible. Sometimes I take chances, especially with a fall garden because I like to watch things grow. Planting seeds and watching them pop through the soil stirs hope inside me.

            It should be the same in our spiritual lives. We should share our faith in Jesus with others. When we do, we are planting seeds in their lives. No one knows which seeds will grow and produce a harvest. We don’t know if our words or actions might be the thing that helps a person turn and accept Jesus as their Savior. We know the results if we don’t share our faith.

            The trouble is that it is hard to share our faith. We take the risk of being rejected or ridiculed, or called a hypocrite if we aren’t perfect. Since we know that we aren’t perfect then the risk factor increases substantially. The other factor is that the enemy whispers to us that we aren’t worthy of sharing our faith. We know ourselves, so we sometimes listen.

            We have to take our eyes off ourselves and look to Jesus. Do you want anyone to miss eternity in heaven with Jesus? I don’t. That means I have to swallow my pride and put all those worries and concerns out of my head. I need to be willing to take the risk, open my heart, and share why I believe in Jesus. There are so many ways God has come through for me in my times of need. Those stories are my testimony to God’s love for me. Those undeniably true stories can penetrate the darkness and hard hearts that I hope to reach.

            Your journey of faith is a story that reveals the hand of God in your life. It reveals His faithfulness. It illustrates His mercy and forgiveness. It tells of His grace. It magnifies the depth and breadth of His love. It exposes His compassion and tenderness. Your story, my story, is worth repeating to anyone who will listen. It can melt the hardest heart and bring light into a lost person’s dark world.

            I encourage you to share your story with people. To those of us who are saved, it encourages us as we deal with the daily struggles of life. To the lost it offers hope that there really is a God who cares deeply about our needs and wants. So many people see God as being far away when in reality He is really close. Our stories illustrate God’s love in vivid detail. Take the risk; you never know whose heart might be ready to respond to God’s love.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

Dream City Dreams

by   August 2, 2024 with No Comments

By Roger Barbee

            At the peak of Dream City Church’s roof sits a gleaming cross, that symbol of Christianity. The mission statement of Dream City Church is: “At Dream City Church, our mission is to lead people into a fully-devoted relationship with Jesus Christ by loving people, cultivating community, and inspiring hope.” On June 12, 2020 the church released this statement:  “Dream City Church confirms it will be renting its facilities to Turning Point Action for their Phoenix event. Turning Point Action contacted Dream City regarding use of its facilities for a student event. Dream City prayerfully considered and then agreed. Turning Point Action subsequently informed Dream City that the President planned to speak at the event. Dream City’s facility rental does not constitute endorsement of the opinions of its renters. Each facility rental is a means to generate funds so that Dream City may continue to carry out its outreach vision – to reach the hurting and needy in the community for Jesus Christ.”

            Both the Dream City Church’s mission statement and cross on its roof are symbols unless supported by action. The cross is an empty symbol when left on a roof or steeple or when worn around a neck. Until it is brought to the midst of humanity and used for good, it remains an empty symbol. The same applies to the quoted mission statement professing love, cultivation, and inspiration. All three of those words are useless when used as nouns and in order to do the work of Jesus, they must become verbs. Action is required.

            In its statement explaining the rental to Turning Point Action, the church states that it “prayerfully considered” before agreeing to rent its space to TPA. Only after agreeing was the church told President Trump would be speaking at the event. But the church only rents its space to generate funds to carry out its outreach vision.

            All of this may cause Christians to believe that Dream City Church will “prayerfully consider” any request to rent its space because the generated funds will help it in its mission of loving, cultivating, and inspiring. And we are assured that “Dream City’s facility rental does not constitute endorsement of the opinions of its renters” which is good because the TPA crowd and its main speaker roiled the sanctuary with racist chants.

            I have gone online to the church’s website but have yet, on the afternoon following the event, to see a  posted apology for what occurred in its sanctuary.  Until I do, I will believe that Dream City Church is pleased with its thirty pieces of silver and the rants full of hate. And the dream that that hate engenders.

More State Parks

by   August 1, 2024 with No Comments

By David Freeze

More State Parks!

   My second day of visiting state parks was a last-minute decision, although I was prepared. I realized I had a free day on July 10th and headed north again right after my early morning walk. With local highs predicted around 95, I once again headed for the mountains.

    I started out with the 1800-acre Rendezvous Mountain State Park near Purlear, one of the oldest state parks and first established in 1926. The Civilian Conservation Corps built a road in, a cabin and some trails in the 1930s. The park was then transferred to the NC Forest Service, then transferred back to the state park system in 2022. The park’s name comes from the Revolutionary War period when the Overmountain Men patriots used Rendezvous Mountain as a meeting point before heading to the 1780 Battle of King’s Mountain. 

    Rangers were meeting in the park office when I visited. There is a Talking Tree’s Trail of .6 mile but none of them mentioned anything to me. Another short trail up the mountain found the 1936 Aeromotor Fire Tower loaded with various antennas for communication purposes. Although tower access is prohibited, it isn’t locked. The CCC cabin appears in great shape. I saw only two other visitors while there.

     The New River State Park Wagoner Access Area is near Laurel Springs and is part of 3,323 acres. New River is considered one of the five oldest rivers in the world and is unique in that it flows north. A 26.5-mile segment of the 320-mile river is part of the park system. I walked the Fern Nature Trail which loops through a natural area, the canoe access point along the river and one of the finest camping areas that I have seen in my travels. A huge bathhouse and shower facility is central to the campground. Three other trails in the park include the strenuous four-mile Riverbend Back Country Trail.

       Other access areas are located on US 221, another full amenity point, and at Elk Shoals, a smaller area where tubing and a beach area are the main focus. Three other areas don’t have road access and offer less amenities. They are located at Allegheny, Prathers Creek and Riverbend.

       The New River has a gentle current flow and is generally shallow, perfect for all abilities. Canoes, kayaks and tubes are available from local outfitters and fishing is good on the river. I have never considered canoe camping but left the area with that thought in mind. 

       Next was Mt. Jefferson State Park, also 3,323 acres, and named for President Thomas Jefferson in 1952. Jefferson’s father, Peter, owned and surveyed the land in the 1700s. Mt. Jefferson became a state park in 1956 after area citizens acquired the minimum acreage to qualify for that designation. The peak is 4,683 feet of black metamorphic rock. Legend holds that slaves traveling the Underground Railroad used the mountain hideaways.

     The entrance road has little to see until reaching the small park office and maintenance area. I found it unattended, as I was told to expect at New River State Park. I found a small map/brochure and the passport stamp that I required in a little birdhouse looking box on an outside wall. I saw only one worker in the park, yet it was beautiful and well-kept while focusing on overlooks and several hiking trails.

    The Sunrise and Sunset Overlooks are spectacular, especially the rock facing of the Sunset one. It was a great place for pictures for those who dared to step out on the rock overhang. The entrance road ends near the summit with a huge picnic area and a large pavilion shelter with fireplace. Restrooms are available there, and also at the park office.

      I chose to walk the .3-mile Summit Trail, labeled as strenuous although I called it disappointing. The trail was smooth gravel and did reach the summit and another communication tower, though all views were more or less blocked by trees and bushes. Other trails from the summit include the 1.1 mile Rhododendron Trail and the .75-mile Lost Province Trail. Notably, at the summit, I experienced a midafternoon temperature of 73 degrees. The park is considered a wilderness natural area.

     My final park visit for the day was the 4,423-acre Elk Knob State Park, at the end of the some of the most winding mountain roads I’ve seen. Constant switchbacks going up through beautiful mountain country ended on Meat Camp Road at the entrance into one of the newer state parks. First established in 2003, the park’s name comes from the elk that once wandered the area in the 1700s. Meat Camp Road gets its name from the local area that was home to a meat packing house used by hunters before the Revolutionary War.

     Hiking is the main attraction at the park and a nearly full trail parking area suggested that Wednesday was a busy day on those trails. The half-mile Maple Tree Run trail was the one I hiked and read that it is used in winter for snowshoe and cross-country skiing, though never wide enough for two skiers to pass easily. The 1.9-mile Summit Trail accesses the two Elk Knob overlooks. Elk Knob tops out at 5,520 feet, aiding the cool 67 degree temperature I enjoyed. A backcountry group camp and primitive camping sites can be found on the 3.8-mile Backcountry Trail.

     Seven parks visited and 35 to go, because the correct total of state parks is now 42 after Rendezvous was added back in.

Gotta’ Run: State park visits begin!

Following

by   July 31, 2024 with No Comments

By Ed Traut

Matthew 4:19 “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, 

  • God wants us to have an attitude of ‘following’ – which means there is no knowing of what lays up ahead, just simply follow.
  • It is an invite to all of us who will respond to Him and look to Him as a guide. 
  • When we follow we don’t question we just yield and submit not knowing where we are going just complete trust.

Prayer:  Lord I do choose to follow You today in my heart and I want to walk with You and fellowship with You and know You.  You are my King and my Lord and Savior. 
Amen.


Ed Traut
Prophetic Life

WOW!!!

by   July 30, 2024 with No Comments

Steve Hartman tells a story of how one word impacted so many people…WOW! Wait to you hear it, I promise it will impact you too! WOW…Steve Hartman, thank you for sharing it.

Packing Light

by   July 30, 2024 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

The last time I packed to go to the beach I included clothes and provisions for every possible scenario. If it turned chilly I had a jacket. If it was hot I had sundresses… plural. If the apocalypse broke loose, no problem. We took plenty of water. If they had no grocery stores on Ocean Isle, we certainly would not go hungry. Good gracious at the food we packed! I mean really. One should not go traipsing off to the far reaches of the state all willy-nilly. What if we got a late night hankering for Chex Mix? We made a foot tub of that just in case. After all… we were staying for three whole days.

Why did I do that? I ended up wearing the same thing I wear at home all week: Black capris, white top. David calls it my uniform.

This time we are going with two of our daughters’ families. My goal is to be a fun grandmother. I will play with them until I collapse in my beach chair. It won’t take long. I’m not a spring chicken anymore. It’s hard to admit that. But at least I won’t be worn out from lugging a bunch of stuff I don’t need up the stairs at the beach house. I can’t help but wonder though…

What will I wear if we go out to eat… which we will if I don’t pack food.

What if it turns cold… which it will if I don’t take a jacket.

What if all my hair falls out again because of my new medicine… which it will if I don’t take a hat.

What if my toenail polish gets raggedy in the surf? Who in their right mind would wear flip flops with unkempt nails?

Oh! And we need a fan for optimal sleeping comfort. Plus our bucket o’ drugs because we can’t let our poor ol’ bodies get any more out of whack. Maybe I should pack our blood pressure cuff to make sure David’s doesn’t bottom out in the heat. And my favorite blanket in case the rest of the crew turns the A/C to subzero; Of course I need my own pillow… and cosmetics. Holy cow it takes a lot to keep me this lovely.

Beach chairs… we can’t forget the beach chairs. And the good frying pan; and ginger-ale in case I get fainty-fied. Of course I will need my insulated cup with the lid…

Toilet paper. Those places never have good toilet paper.

Sunscreen! I almost forgot the SPF one hundred forty seven. And an umbrella or maybe a pop-up tent. One cannot be too careful out in the sun these days.

OH! And chocolate milk! We always take chocolate milk on the trip down. It’s our special tradition signifying the beginning of vacation. No need breaking tradition just yet.

While I list the things we need so as not to forget anything vital, David packs a bag. Singular. It holds two pairs of shorts, underwear, swim trunks, a couple t-shirts, flip-flops. Period.

He zipped his bag shut though there was still plenty of room in it. I do not understand the man.

All I’m saying is that if his hair falls out, he is not getting my hat.

Are You for Real Right Now?

by   July 29, 2024 with No Comments

By Rhonda Sassano

I stopped those words from escaping my mouth just in time.  I wanted to use them like a caveman’s club to beat the pulp out of the one speaking to me!  I know that seems harsh and probably unnecessarily so, but oh! How disappointing, no, how devastating to hear your best friend say, “I can’t handle your stress…”   Stunned, I sank back in my chair as silence filled the space and enveloped us both.  My friend didn’t seem to notice the quietness now stilling my mouth and squelching my voice altogether.  My thoughts whirled viciously and pummeled my already-aching spirit with ridicule and sarcasm.  My spirit crawled into a dusty, neglected corner and wept.  

Wow.  I thought I already knew what alone felt like.  I was wrong. I whispered to myself, “this intense loneliness…it’s just feelings.  It will pass.  Who needs friends anyway?  Aren’t I mature enough by now to know that the Lord is really and truly the only one I can trust?  The only one who will never give up on me or leave me without support?  I guess I should be grateful for the reminder…”

My friend started a new conversation and I joined in, determined to not allow any noticeable difference in my tone or demeanor.  Likely she had no idea the impact of her comment. And obviously, she didn’t need the added stress of hurting me… I reminded myself to take time later to truly forgive her and ask the Holy Spirit to speak truth over any lies trying to take root based on her words.   Maybe I’ve been leaning on her too much, I mused.   Going to the Father should be my first reaction, not seeking out my friend who has her own troubles and issues… I repented for pouring out my heart to anyone other than my Father.  And I set my mind to remember, next time, to allow brokenness to push me to Him.  Not to a friend.  Not until I hear His heart about the matter.  Then, I can share from a place of peace rather than burdensome neediness.  

I read an article earlier that talked about a full cup spilling out when it’s bumped or shaken.  Whatever is in the cup is what spills out, whether it’s coffee, tea, anger, love , or peace… 

Psalm 62 instructs me what to do… “I stand silently to listen for the one I love, waiting as long as it takes for the Lord to rescue me. For God alone has become my Savior. He alone is my safe place; his wraparound presence always protects me. For he is my champion defender; there’s no risk of failure with God. So why would I let worry paralyze me, even when troubles multiply around me? Trust only in God every moment! Tell him all your troubles and pour out your heart-longings to him. Believe me when I tell you—he will help you! (‭‭Psalms‬ ‭62‬:‭1‬-‭2‬, ‭8‬ ‭TPT‬‬) 

People aren’t meant to be trusted; even the dearest, closer-than-close friends are not trustable like He is.  They all pale in comparison to His faithful, compassionate love and care!  He is ALWAYS present, ALWAYS available, ALWAYS listening, ALWAYS everything I need.  So what about friends, then?  No man is an island, right? Right!  But when I am needy, friends get stressed trying to meet my needs, because they simply cannot meet them. And that is by the design of a wonderful Heavenly Father who allows me to be in need so I will seek His face and discover Who He really is…

…and He is exactly every thing I will ever need.  

With joy,

Rhonda

P.S.  If you find yourself in need of counseling, coaching, or prayer, please reach me at sunnyshade13@gmail.com.  I am a certified Mental Health Coach and art therapy practitioner.  I’d count it a privilege to hear your heart and offer you hope, healing, and practical help.  

“God is not looking for those who can but those who will.”

Sink or Float

by   July 28, 2024 with No Comments

By Ashlie Miller

Learning to swim has become a rite of passage in our home. Each child has desired swim lessons around the age of 5 or so. My youngest has not yet wanted that, though. He would rather figure things out on his own or with me, Mom. We get along swimmingly as we hold our breath while wearing our goggles to sit together on the bottom of the pool, compete to grab diving sticks (our favorites look like silly monsters), or jump in simultaneously, delighting in the myriad of bubbles engulfing us. 

There is one thing, however, into which I cannot completely coax him—resting on his back, afloat on the water. It is one of my favorite things—letting go, relaxing, and letting buoyancy do what it does best. I trust the water to hold me, almost thrusting me upwards to the surface of the water.

On a recent mommy-son swim, it occurred to me that lying on my back in the water was a great picture of faith. I never fully appreciated the object lesson of trusting a chair to hold me when I sit down to be a great picture of faith. Many use the illustration. But I can see that chair. I can probably even see if it looks a bit faulty – if screws or nails are missing or if joints seem to be coming apart. But floating on something seemingly invisible is different.

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1). In the pool, although I can see the movement of the water and reflection of the sun underneath, I cannot really see the forces that would hold me afloat. I hope I can float and the water will keep me in that position. I see no evidence that it will when simply glancing at the water. 

In the mind and eye of a child, it almost looks like levitating on thin air. My son has heard the story of his unsuccessful attempt to fly from the top of the flight of stairs when he was less than two years old. “Hey brother, watch me fly!” I heard him yell as I was in the kitchen that day. Upon hearing a THUD, I ran around the corner to see that he had landed hard near the bottom. What a lesson! Why would he assume that water would fare him much better?

But he can see that Mommy puts her faith in the water. She is calm and serene and eager to enjoy an all-too-brief moment floating, looking up at the Carolina-blue sky above. Will he also see my faith in things or Someone more important? 

I hope he will soon learn lessons of faith—not just in the water, not just in Mommy’s faith, but in real, meaningful, abiding faith for himself.

Ashlie Miller spends summer days playing at the pool, going on walks, reading books, and waiting for summer storms on the porch. You may email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com, and she will answer you while on the porch or by the pool.

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