Something About The Joy

I've been neglecting my front yard for way too long.  I knew the weeds were growing there, shooting up through the healthy grass and causing my lawn mower to groan, but I just didn't want to deal with the hard work, sweat and tears it would take to get rid of them.  I guess I just kept hoping the grass would take over eventually and choke the weeds out.  Or that maybe some friendly neighbor would jog by my house, notice how ugly the lawn looked, and stop to pull them out for me.  But, no.  It looks like I'm going to have to do this.  This is a good time to do it.  We've been pounded by rain this spring. We have had the storms, I'll say! Hitting us from every side. Dumping more water on us than we have known how to deal with at times.  It's caused damage. Devastating destruction in some cases.  But it's also made the soil easier to work with. So this morning I kneel here, in the dirt, digging and tugging and tossing, trying to avoid touching the slu

A couple of people have asked me lately about how I came to "find God."  That's interesting, because I feel like my coming to faith was actually a matter of God finding me, rather than me finding Him. My faith journey began very early on. I grew up with parents who were Christians and they taught me about God from my childhood. I decided when I was less than two years old that I wanted God, and so one day I just asked Jesus to come into my heart!  I was not much of a logical thinker then, of course!  At that time, the desire for God just seemed to tug at my heart and I responded, almost without thinking, in the same way that a child will instinctively run to their father's arms.  But in my teens, when I began to think about the process of "finding God," I questioned whether I had really been able to make that choice without understanding more about the process at the time. My mother's diary had recorded the decision, and it was obvious