March 10, 2026
Wasting Time with Jesus
Like many of you at this time of year, I am preparing for Easter. Sure, there’s a lot going on. There are people to invite, meals to plan, eggs to fill and/or decorate, and volunteer responsibilities at church. My little grandchildren have entered the craft zone. I love showing up to their homes with holiday-specific activities and spending time chatting with them as we make Valentine hearts or leprechaun masks.
Just like at Christmas, the busyness of Easter can shade the fact that “Jesus is the Reason for the Season.” There were too many years that I was so buried in the flurry of activity that I showed up to the Good Friday service abruptly, or at the Easter morning celebration distracted.
Daily devotionals help me wrap my head around the glory of this season. Right now, I am reading “Journey to the Cross” on the BibleApp. “The Jar” was the focus of the first day—the jar of perfume broken open to anoint Jesus days before his death. We know the story from Matthew. We understand the expense of that gift, and that many people in the room considered it a waste. I was challenged by a new thought–that in my busyness, I am not stopping to “waste” something precious, for no practical reason than to worship and give glory to Jesus.
I know I am not the only one who is delighted by a checked off to-do list. Time is probably my most precious commodity. I am adept at giving God my time when it comes to helping at church or serving others. But giving Him time, just between the two of us, in quietness and without producing anything tangible, that has not been on my list.
As we move toward our celebration of the resurrection, I want to pause and waste more time with Jesus. I hope you will consider it, too!
March 6, 2026
A Little Back Story…
I came to Ohio in 1983 to attend The Ohio State University. My plan was to get a Ph.D., move back to California, and make a lot of money. Then I fell in love with two men.
I had known the first one a long time, but we weren’t close. The timing, the environment, and a deep inspection of myself made me realize that he was the One I wanted to spend my life with.
Then, the second one came along. We were friends to crushes to something more.
One guy would have come home with me to California—he promised to always be by my side. If I wanted the other one, I was stuck here.
Dear reader, lest you think I am fickle—the first man was Jesus. Though I distinctly recall making a confession of faith in Mrs. Vassar’s kindergarten class, my relationship with Jesus had stayed distant and impersonal. My years at Ohio State, in the company of a community of Christian friends, showed me there was so much more to friendship with Jesus that an initial pledge of faith.
Of course, the second man was my dear husband Chris. He understands that playing second fiddle to Jesus actually elevates his own worth. He is kind and true and I have never regretted being yoked with him on this journey which has involved love and laughter in many homes and the blessings of children and grandchildren, deep friendships, and a ministry which has brought great joy and deep sorrow.
I never did finish the Ph.D. I didn’t move back to California or make a lot of money. But I can’t imagine having a fuller life than the one I have lived. Friend, if you find yourself in the middle of making difficult life choices, take my advice and pick Jesus first.
December 9, 2025
I survived Thanksgiving!
Thanksgiving is over and I survived. Several times during the multi-day whirlwind, my sweet husband made me look him in the eye and queried, “Are you doing ok?” “Yes! Yes, I am!” I answered gleefully. Like toddlers before naptime who swear they are not tired as their last bursts of energy spout out, I gave it my all.
We always have a lot of food at holiday gatherings. It’s a big part of the way we show love, not just in our home now, but generationally. My mom and my husband’s mom each greeted us with our favorite meals when we visited. After being away for a year as a foreign exchange student after high school, I returned home to a first meal of the oddest combination of my favorite dishes. My mom could not decide what to pick, so she made it all—chile relleno casserole, ham and the fixings, Japanese rice, my favorite desserts, and more.
I am a certified food pusher. My daughter says my spiritual gift is feeding people. (I’m not sure which Bible book records this gift.) This year, I had prepped and pre-baked all I could before the arrival of family. I had menus and ingredients ready. Then I stumbled upon a Thanksgiving devotional about bread* and it made me stop and think about more than physical food. The readings alerted me that those who walked into my door may be experiencing things beyond physical hunger. It made me want to provide more than just delicious calories, but emotional food and spiritual sustenance.
I’ll always have great memories of being in the kitchen together this Thanksgiving–my sister slicing mounds of root vegetables, my nephew coaxing the pan drippings into the most marvelous gravy, my son reprising his role of crescent roll cornucopia designer.
I hope, though, that the best memories will be the love shared, the warmth felt, the peace of God’s presence over all.
*Challah: The Blessing in the Dough on the YouVersion Bible app
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November 19, 2025
For my dad…
November 19–My father died on this date in 2013. I was by his side in the hospital when he took his last breath. The doctors had removed life support at nine that morning and the whole family gathered to be with him. By nine at night, he was still breathing peacefully on his own, and we could see that our mom was physically and emotionally exhausted. We decided to take turns staying with him while the rest of the family went home and made sure our mom ate and rested and slept. I was elected for the “first shift” with my dad, but it only took about a half hour before the ragged end-breaths began and then he was gone. We believe he waited until my mom left until he let go of life. Twelve years later, the pain of his loss is no longer an acute piercing of my heart. It has lessened to an ache mixed with pleasant memories. Recently, I heard a widow say, “You don’t move on, but you move forward.”
God gave me the idea for the book I am writing. It was meant to be a story my dad would read that would explain the message of Jesus. According to my dad, he was “all right in that department.” But I wanted to be sure! (You can fault me for grasping at control but when you love someone a lot, you want to be sure they are heaven-bound.) The book did not materialize until this past year, and is still in the rewriting phase. The impetus is the same, a story you can read that would clearly explain the hope of heaven, a book about a man who has made good choices and the daughter who wants to be sure his goodness doesn’t cloud the humble way of salvation.
As for my dad, there were indicators that he did understand the simple gospel of Jesus. I picture him looking down from heaven on my efforts, and I think he would be pleased.
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October 28, 2025
Hoy Perfumamos tu trono (Today, we perfume your throne)
I often attend the Hispanic service at my church (even though I’m just a beginning Spanish learner). I wear the earpiece that translates the service into English, but I’m also paying attention and learning new words. One thing I love is the worship music. There is something about singing songs in another language that bypasses my rational logical brain and pierces my heart. “Hoy perfumamos tu trono” means “Today, we perfume your throne.”
The Bible talks about our prayers being like incense (Psalm 141, Revelation 8) and even that we ourselves are a sweet aroma to God (2 Corinthians 2). I picture our prayers like smoky tendrils of all different hues rising up to God. What a beautiful scene! Where are you today? Maybe you are a busy mama who didn’t get a shower because you hit the ground running and you don’t think you smell so great. Your prayers smell beautiful to God! Maybe you have been praying for the same thing for so long and your prayers feel lifeless and repetitive, but God wants to keep hearing from you. To Him, it is a sweet aroma when his children call out.
May I encourage you to perfume His throne today?
October 14, 2025
Sourdough and Grandkids
It has been a long time since my kids were young. The responsibilities of raising four children were peeled away slowly as each one left home. I sometimes do not realize how fast I now work. Speed! Efficiency! Boy, can I cross a lot of things off my list if I put my mind to it.
Some days, however, my pace is necessarily much slower. (Before you think it, it’s not due to my age!)
Two beautiful things in my life have caused me to slow down–sourdough bread and grandchildren.
I did not jump on the sourdough bandwagon during the shutdown, like many of my friends did. Somehow, during the pandemic I was deemed an essential worker for the two jobs I held, and was expected to be in-office every day. I didn’t enter the addictive world of sourdough until my daughter-in-law gifted me a jar of starter a couple of years ago. It is quite amazing to watch a few simple ingredients literally grow on my countertop and result in fragrant, mouth-watering deliciousness. But baking with Masa Madre (mother dough), as my Salvadoran friend calls it, is a slow process involving many steps.
My grandkids are such a delight! They crack me up and fill me with fervent love and hope for the world. But toddlers are slow creatures by nature. I can eat lunch in under five minutes. For my one and two year old little people, meals can be a long drawn-out event. And they need help with everything–getting dressed, brushing teeth, changing diapers—tasks that don’t go well when you rush.
I am thankful that my world has slowed to the pace of my grandchildren and my sourdough. When I move slowly, I notice more about the world around me, and I am more intentional in my actions. Getting fewer things accomplished means having to choose the better things, and I am learning that is a wiser way to live.
September 16, 2025
First Writer’s Conference
I recently returned from my first writer’s conference! My head is spinning with all the new information gleaned from interesting workshops and amazing people. I flew into Springfield, Missouri, on the evening before the conference began, and went down to dinner in the hotel restaurant alone. Groups of people took up most of the tables, and others stood around greeting old friends with hugs and laughter. Me? I’m a party of one, so they sat me at the bar. Feeling lonely and self-conscious, I read and re-read the registration packet with my head down, triggering a childhood memory.
My family moved when I was 11 years old. I went to a new school in the 6th grade and did not know a soul when it was time for lunch. Outside under the Southern California sun, the heat of the low concrete wall I sat on matched the flush in my face as I sneaked peeks at other kids eating or having fun out on of the playground. I can still feel that lump in my throat as my sad feelings and bite of sandwich combined to form an unswallowable pain. I would have cried if I thought it wouldn’t make me choke.
At the conference, I knew I was not completely alone. The Lord was with me. It was his idea for me to write my story in the first place and He would sustain me. When a woman (also a first-timer) approached me and asked if she could join me, I felt the same relief I felt when 11 year old when Melanie C offered to eat lunch with me on the second day of school. I became fast friends with Ellen at the conference, and we ended up going to many of the same workshops together. I am so glad God gave me this conference buddy!
I came home exhausted and let my mind and body rest by trying two new sourdough recipes—pumpkin cinnamon swirl and maple cream soda caramel. (The latter is a riff on butterbeer for all you Harry Potter fans.) My house smells amazing! On the writing front, I have a list of things to do to make my manuscript better. I see the road ahead more clearly, even if I have learned that I am much further from the end than I thought. I am not discouraged! If you have made it this far, thank you for reading! Please pray for me to keep learning, and I will pray for you.
August 11, 2025
I am not in control
I had so many Thank You Jesus moments on my recent vacation that I started writing TYJ for short in my journal. Traveling outside of the United States requires you to lose your sense of complete control over transportation.
Here in Ohio, I get into my car and (barring engine trouble) drive wherever I want, to an exact location. Public transportation in Europe requires using trains, buses, trams, the metro (and walking a lot). You can be on the right platform but take the wrong train. You can get on the right number bus but in the wrong direction. And buses don’t pull into a parking space in front of your destination. You must disembark and then figure out the best route to walk.
It is good to release your independence and control. It is good to make mistakes and rely on the kindness of strangers. It is good to acknowledge and value the help God is constantly giving us each day. In truth, I do not really have the control I think I have here at home. TYJ for reminding me!
July 7, 2025
He made me wait
I was waiting for my name to be called at a lab/clinic. I counted nine people get called up who checked in after me. Had I not checked in properly? Did the desk staff goof something up? I was about to go up and ask with more politeness than I was feeling when a patient two seats down from me said, “Louise?” It was an old friend I had not seen for over 20 years. His family attended our church, and left to plant a new church north of us. I had heard his wife died from cancer years ago. Here he was sitting with his new bride. My friend got called up for his lab work (even though he checked in after me!), and I chatted with his wife the whole time he was gone. I was able to tell her (without my friend there listening) that I had heard his grief had been great, and I was so glad he found love again. God provided this serendipitous moment. But he made me wait for it.
Do you feel you have been waiting too long? Are you about ready to complain to God’s Front Desk that He made a mistake? Wait. Who knows what “unplanned” thing He is planning for you!
Psalm 27:14: Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!
June 7, 2025
“The printed page never flinches”
I read this the other day in one of the old Streams in the Desert devotional books. I find the entries so timely, even though they were published in the 1960’s and contain writing from throughout the ages.
Recently, the daughter of my high school psychology teacher contacted me. She was going through his things and found a Christmas card I had written to him in 1978! She sent me a picture of what I had written. I thanked him for the class, which spurred me to choose my college major, and shared a few of my favorite memories. The fact that he kept it shows it was meaningful to him. And then the words went on to bless his daughter, who also delighted in the praise her late dad received from a student.
I don’t even remember sending the card! The printed word outlasted my memory, and will outlast my life. That’s powerful. Is there someone you can thank today? Your written words may have a lasting effect.