Two Truths–When Life Doesn’t Make Sense

Yesterday morning at our porch party, everything seemed topsy-turvy. A storm had blown through the day before. I’d received weather alert texts, and the dogs and I stayed in the basement for a while. At the same time, parts of Tennessee were being destroyed by wild fires–so many homes and businesses burned to the ground.

So much devastation and loss and chaos.

And this was just our area of the world. 

My husband sat down on the porch, and I started cleaning up the mess from the storm. My little white Christmas tree had blown over. I found a pine cone ornament in the corner behind my rocking chair.

The tiny trees on my grandmother’s table were upside down.

The angel on the table beside the door had flipped over, as if she’d buried her face in the ground.

Poor thing.

She looks hopeless. 

I thought about families waking up after the fire, and prayer requests from some of you and from our friends and family.

But I wasn’t ready to pray. Not yet. I wanted to make sense of everything first.

We sat quietly.

Sipping coffee and rocking.

Me thinking too much, the bad overshadowing the good, at least in my mind. 

This is heavy stuff, Lord. So many needs. So many are hurting. 

Just then Clyde, our Labrador, climbed the front porch steps with a pumpkin in his mouth. I’d thrown it away in the woods beside our house–so far back, I didn’t think he could possibly find it.

That’s just what we need. A pumpkin or our porch in December. 

He plopped it at our feet as though he’d retrieved a duck.

“Thank you, buddy,” my husband said, scratching him behind the ears. “Good boy.”

“Good boy? He brought us a pumpkin.”

“He probably thought we wanted it back.”

Right then, something shifted inside me. Rick had spoken words of praise even though the situation hadn’t called for it. What he said touched a placed in my heart. I remembered a Scripture. 

Be thankful in all circumstances… 1 Thessalonians 5:18

When life doesn’t make sense:

1. We’re supposed to be thankful–in all circumstances. 

And something else.

2. Our emotions are a breath away from each other–so close, they’re almost touching. 

Fear cowers inches from Faith. Discouragement trembles at heels of Hope. Click to tweet. 

Now I was ready to pray.

We thanked God for His faithfulness and for being God. We prayed for the families waking up after the fire. And for you. For friends and family members. For so many who are hurting.

We said “amen,” and I hung the ornament back on the tree.

I stood the angel in place.

But I left the pumpkin under the Christmas tree as a reminder. 

Praising God when things don’t make sense is the right thing to do. Always.  Click to tweet. 

Are there situations in your life right now that don’t make sense? Are you close to giving up hope? Want to share them with our group? We’ll pray.

(To donate to the American Redcross of East Tennesee donate online at where you can specify the local Red Cross.)



So Much More Than a Pair of Shoes

Have you ever opened a present and had a deep understanding pass through you? This is about so much more than the gift. That happened to me Saturday. Mother gave me a pair of beautiful sandals for my birthday. “Buying you these shoes is one of the scariest things I’ve ever done,” she said. “You know how I feel about blue.”

She hates blue.

“I tried on dozens of pairs to make sure they’d fit you.”

We both have long, skinny, hard to fit feet. I imagined her surrounded by an ocean of blue shoes, running the saleslady ragged.

“I can’t believe you bought them. They’re the prettiest shoes I’ve ever had. Like Cinderella’s slippers.”

“Actually, they’re azure blue. This color’s in this year.”

My daughter Katie was with us. Remember how she knows fashion? “Nanny’s right.” Katie paused. “Mom, um, you probably don’t know how nice these sandals are. They’re MICHAEL KORS.”

I had no clue what that meant.

“It means they’re nice,” Mother said. “Reminds me of when I was thirteen. I found the most wonderful shoes. Black leather, but not shiny leather. They were so expensive I knew I could never have any, but your grandmother bought them for me. They were magical shoes–ballerinas with a thin strap across my foot. My feet didn’t look like hotdogs in them. I loved them so much, I slept in them. I never forgot those shoes.”

An understanding passed between us–quick as hummingbird wings.

Listen intently to those you love.

Give with your heart. 

A lifetime passes so fast–long before we’re ready.

Have you ever received a gift like my Cinderella slippers?

If you’d like to donate to the RED CROSS  or SALVATION ARMY  to help Oklahoma tornado victims, our love gifts might become Cinderella slippers for those with no shoes.