“You’re going the wrong way!” our two-year-old daughter wailed hysterically at my husband and me from the back of the SUV.
Sometimes God uses our scars to tell our stories, but sharing our stories with others can seem nearly impossible.
It’s become a cultural norm for us to hide our shame and our struggles. We try to cover them up, and social media makes it all too easy to hide our hearts behind a glossy filter and a carefully crafted caption.
The “will of God,” that all-elusive mystery, is incredibly difficult to grasp. Up until 2012, I felt I had good understanding of “God’s will.” Believe in God, repent of your sins, and your life will go smoothly. But then I received some earth-shattering news: I would never have children. My flimsy faith fell apart, but thankfully, for me, it was God’s way of making our relationship real.
“What would you do if you saw a crocodile eating a kitten?” A typical topic for dinner conversation at any home, right? This was the question my 10-year-old son posed to my 8-year-old daughter last night.