This week I realized my eyes aren’t what they used to be—after 8 hours of paperwork, the screen was a blur. But it reminded me of another kind of eyesight: our spiritual vision. Jesus said, “The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light.” (Matthew 6:22)

While my uncle was in the hospital, I prayed the night before he passed, asking God’s will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.

A summer visit with my daughters’ 94-year-old great great uncle: we do not know the day or the hour, but we know the One who holds our days. His steady presence and quiet faith point to the hope found in Jesus, who promises eternal life to all who believe.

This week, gratitude felt stuck. My calendar was packed, my summer fun was over, and the “mom taxi” job was in full swing. But in the middle of the chaos, God sent a small win—a reminder that He cares about the little things too.

What started as a fun family troll hunt in Detroit Lakes turned into a muddy, laughter-filled adventure complete with flip-flop regrets, emergency Walmart shorts, and one unforgettable search for the Golden Rabbit. Parenting isn’t always pretty—but sometimes, it’s pretty hilarious.

Delayed flights, a broken AC, and an unexpected week full of minor chaos. But also, moments of peace, purpose, and unexpected gratitude.

When our cat disappeared during a stretch of stormy weather, I found myself praying a prayer that felt small—but honest. What happened next reminded me that God cares about the details, even the ones with fur and whiskers.

Today I had what I thought was a brilliant parenting idea: music time instead of screen time. It was met with groans, arguing, and the classic “This is dumb.” But eventually… they had fun.

No kids, no responsibilities—just gifts. From a quiet balcony overlooking tall ships to a surprise seat at a USA Dive Team practice, this Duluth getaway slowed me down enough to notice the beauty I usually rush past. Week 2 of my journey to 1,000 gifts reminds me: the blessings are there when I take time to see them.

I came over the top a hill. A car had passed me, and as I started downhill, a truck approached and stopped. At first, I was nervous. But then I realized...

You know the feeling when something is in your eye. It’s scratchy. Your eye waters. You blink and rub and just want whatever it is out ....

This year’s Grandma’s Marathon weekend was far from our usual routine. Typically, we hit the road on Friday for our race adventure, but...

In Exodus, God gave the Israelites manna—just enough for each day. The same is true for us. We’re not meant to live on yesterday’s faith.

What started with yelling, pinched fingers, and a bike nearly flying off the back of our vehicle turned into a week of progress—and a lesson in faith. Just like spiritual routines, getting back into the groove can feel clunky at first. But God never expects perfection—He just invites us to return.

It can shift my mood, lift my spirits, and even help me hear from God. Whether I’m driving, working, running or running late (which happens every once and awhile), or praying for a friend, there’s usually a song playing in the background. It’s amazing how often God uses music to get my attention.

During Lent, I started reading the Bible at bedtime with my daughters—and we’ve kept it going. One recent night, a question from my teen stopped me: “Why doesn’t God speak like He used to?” It led to a conversation about how God is speaking… we just need to pray specifically, pay attention, and recognize His answers when they come.

A cold morning, a monster hill, a bug I swallowed mid-run—and a reminder that hills don’t last forever. One foot in front of the other.

Summer is just around the corner—and I don’t know about you, but I’m so ready for a slower pace. But the kind of rest I’ve been journaling about lately goes deeper than beach chairs and poolside days. It’s the kind of rest Jesus promises in Matthew 11:28–30: a rest found in walking with Him, learning from Him, and laying down the urge to go it alone.

What is your “one”? What’s the thing God’s called you to do?

Cancer sucks. Lately, I’ve been wrestling with how to support people I love through heartbreaking diagnoses and suffering. As an introvert, I’m learning to show up quietly but faithfully—through prayer, small gestures, and walking alongside them in spirit. It’s not loud. It’s not flashy. It’s faith.