Lyn Cooke Christian Blog and Commentary Archives

I told the story of Thanksgiving yesterday. It's been years since I told the story of pilgrims and indians sitting down together and enjoying a harvest. I smiled to myself as I remembered my daughters making construction paper hats with big buckles and feathers and cornucopias and children eating on paper plates shaped like turkeys.

As I read these words I realized that regardless of how I feel or what season I'm in, as I spend time with Jesus, He profoundly effects me. I become more like Him. I take on His fragrance, His sweet perfume.

Do you feel like you're always dwelling on the future? Waiting for that time when your home will be peaceful, your problems worked out and the bills paid up? A time when your children rise up and call you blessed, your husband sings your praises from the rooftop and your skinny jeans fit!

Have you ever felt like you have nothing else to give? Dry to the bone. I've been feeling like that lately. I read these words from Oswald Chambers a couple of days ago and I realized, God doesn't promise that we will feel like "rivers of living water". He promises that, in fact, we will be.

I saw Liz Curtis Higgs in person for the first time last summer at the She Speaks Conference in North Carolina. I had read many of her books over the years and enjoyed her dynamic personality in radio and TV interviews. I knew that she would be the perfect speaker to end the conference on Saturday night.

It's creeps in on me. Slowly, by degrees. I'm hardly aware of it until that moment when I can't even stand to be around me! Life has knocked me around a bit with illness and teenagers and work and … well, you know the drill. And I've started grumbling.

I have loved other cultures since I was a little girl. At bedtime, my great grandmother would tell me stories of the Caribbean, of monkeys in Brazil, men dressed in linen suits and hats in Panama and beautiful Bahamian ladies with skin the color of cafe con leche in Andros. I loved my Nanny's stories of these faraway places and I dreamed of going there someday.

For those missing their Dad today or perhaps have never known their Dad, I pray this brings you comfort.

I’ve been doing some soul digging. {Hence my brief absence.} I have walked into the basement of my own heart and surveyed the contents.There is some stuff that has to go.

Praising the One who paid my debt...

It was like a minefield! There were enemies everywhere. Entering this land would be dangerous and possession would be impossible. They saw themselves totally unequal to the task.

For the past few days, everything has seemed daunting. I feel like I'm climbing uphill in all that I do. And then, early this morning I read these words...

I have a chronic illness. This thorn has been my constant companion for almost a year. If I'm not careful, it could take over.

This week has been all pink and red. Candy hearts and candlelight. But I can't get this real Love off my mind.

I wasn’t prepared for that day. Those days. When they laid you in my arms. And all the days after. How does a flawed Mama raise her babies well?

How do you keep moving forward when the horizon looks bleak? When you lose hope? How do you hang on to a promise when Doubt whispers in your ear?

They had been to the mountaintop. They saw Jesus glow with the radiance of God. But He was not what they expected.

The words leap off the page and come alive before me. I have read them a hundred times over the years, but this time they take on a new dimension.Such incredible words…justified…peace…access. Done for us by One who offered Himself as a perfect sacrifice. To make a way for us.

This is the first in a series of posts about women with unique stories to tell, but who share a common theme. To live a life of faith.

God, who created the Universe, took the form of a baby and came down to us. The fallen ones. Because He loved us. Loves us.