Something to Cling to

The forecasted rain has yet to arrive, so I head to the garden to water my emerging plants. The garlic thrives, the beets have yet to emerge, but this morning I am drawn to the sugar snaps. Their fragile tendrils reach into the air in search of something solid. Once found, they wrap themselves around the bars of the supports and hold on as if their life depends on it. Once secure on one rung, the plants grow ever upward.

This is Holy Week. What are you clinging to?

Easter traditions of a meal with family? New Spring clothes to herald warmer weather? The laughter of little children discovering eggs filled with treats? What does Easter mean to you?

The Church offers many ways to observe Holy week – The waving of branches and singing of Hosanna; Holy communion in remembrance of the last supper, Passion plays and the stripping of the church, gatherings in the garden, sunrise services, and exuberant Easter celebrations. The known world was changed forever by the actions of this small group of people in a remote backwater. Because they clung to the eternal support shown to them on Easter morning. Jesus the Christ rose from the dead.

There are lots of big words and complex theologies about the why and the how, about who Jesus was and is, about God’s nature and divine will and the Word. We want to understand that which is so much more complicated and complex and powerful than we are. But perhaps faith is best expressed in a story.

The story of a man who claimed to be the Son of God and was put to death for it. And on the third day, on that non-descript Sunday morning, he rose from the dead, proving that his claims were true.

That is what we can cling to. God did something amazing, unbelievable even. But it happened.

For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with he scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, although some have died. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 1 Corinthians 15:3-7.

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

We are about to commemorate the beauty of the last supper, Jesus’ obedience in Gethsemane, the horrors of the crucifixion, the despair at his death. It can be tempting to live in that space, to cling to his suffering and his humanity. When we are suffering, it helps to know he suffered as well, even more so than we suffer now. We remember him washing Judas’ feet, dining with him, offering him bread and wine, and know he offers this to us sinners as well.

We can absorb the horrors of Holy Week because we cling to the truth of Easter Sunday.

The wind has been gusty for days now. An outdoor picnic led to plates blown off the table and toys blown across the yard. We were clipping the tablecloth to the table and weighting the boxes of egg dye.

The sugar snaps were unaffected by the wind gusts. They held firm, clinging to the truth of the trellises offered to them.

This is Holy Week. What are you clinging to?

Love in Christ, Betsy

Gray and Chilly

In the warm weather that brightened our spirits last week, my sugar snaps pushed through the soil and rejoiced with me. But Sunday, I covered them with the protective gauze that keeps them warm and lets in sunlight. A forty degree drop in temperatures would challenge these young plants. I would do what I could to lessen the shock.

This is what March is all about in Tennessee. 75 degrees one day, 35 degrees the next. I would like to say that such weather changes don’t affect me. Unlike my sugar snaps, I live in a climate-controlled space with many resources to protect me from the wintery weather. But the truth is this gray and chilly day has me feeling, well, gray and chilly.

Intellectually I know that such feelings can only affect me if I let them. I am not a sugar snap plant blown by the wind and left to the elements. In my core, I am a child of God, beloved and adopted, chosen to live in a royal priesthood. But today, I am a whiney old widow whose joints hurt.

Usually, when I am feeling gray like this, I wander outside and listen to the creek and the birds. I feel the wind and the sun on my face and stick my hands in the dark, wet soil. But it’s 35 degrees outside and I want to stay inside.

Because I lost three trees to the ice storm in January, I decided to plant two new ones. Not hackberries like the ones I lost, but fig trees. I have a dwarf fig in my garden, but I am planting the not-dwarf kind of fig tree in my yard. They arrived Saturday when it was warm. The temptation was to plant them right away, but I am observing Saturday sabbath for Lent, so I let them sit inside.

Today, I am grateful that these young plants are not exposed to the chilly weather yet. I sense a little providence in their protection. And today, their healthy green leaves and promises of future beauty, shade, and fruit are lifting my spirits.

Even when it is gray and chilly, even when my emotions urge me to curl up on the couch, a young plant reminds me of what opportunities lie ahead – opportunities for warmth, for growth, for bearing fruit. No matter my mood, God gives me the opportunity to care for others, to exhibit joy and love, and to bear fruit for His Kingdom.

It may not look like much right now, but these sugar snaps will grow tall and these small fig plants will become trees. The chill will pass; the sun will burst through the clouds and warm the ground. A little providence and faith will see me through the gray days into His light.

And not only that but we can also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5.

Warmer days are ahead.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Pruning

Most of the fallen limbs are gone and only one downed tree remains to dismantle, a task for those with chainsaws. Now I need to tend to my house plants.

While most survived the four frigid days without heat, one of them suffered considerable damage. It lived closer to the window, closer to the cold. As a side note, the Christmas Cactus seemed to love the cooler temps!

I am grateful that I did not attend this plant immediately when it was all dead and brown. I thought I would have to dispose of it. But in the weeks since power was restored, new green leaves have appeared. A white blossom has even presented itself. “I’m not dead yet!”

So, I got out my scissors and pruned off all the dead leaves and brittle stems. What is left is small but healthy.

It seems an apt practice for Lent. That is what we are called to do in our lives. Cut away all the dead waste, the useless pursuits, the brittle branches. Leave the healthy, holy part of lives to grow unfettered by dead-end activities.

Let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race set before us. Hebrews 12:1b.

And now that the dead leaves are gone, the healthy green leaves shine. They are what I see when I look at my plant. Not brown, wilted leaves and brittle stems, but healthy, vibrant growth. Isn’t that what we what others to see in us? Not our decaying, worthless activity, but the beauty of a healthy and holy life, love, and growth?

It just took getting rid of the other stuff.

The old leaves weren’t “bad.” They had brought beauty to my home for years. But things had changed and they were no longer the source of joy they had once been. In a sense, they were reminders of what once had been but was not now.

Am I cluttering my life with reminders of what once was? Not just my home, but my mind? I am slow to give up those things that were once precious to the people who were precious to me. Not that I care about Royal Dalton figurines, but my mother did. Not that I love antlers and deer heads, but Nick did. And those toys my children loved? I still have them.

I think it is okay for mementos from the past to occupy some physical space. But my mental space needs to be filled with God and His desires for today, not cluttered with joys and regrets from the past. I need to prune back the brown and brittle leaves and let the healthy new growth shine.

It may not look like much. At least right now. But God has taught me that when I strip away all the excess, dead stuff, the living, vital things grow.

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. John 15:1-2.

And that is what I want to do – bear fruit for God’s kingdom, bear the Holy Spirit’s fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, and Christ-like living. (Galatians 5:22)

I pray that each of us lets God guide us in the pruning of our lives.

Love in Christ, Betsy

The Little Things

It’s not a new thought but it has taken me years to truly absorb the impact of it. God cares about the little things.

God cares about microscopic plankton and miniscule flowers. He cares about what you eat, how you prepare it, and why. He cares about who you share your food with. He cares about your random thoughts and how you react to traffic. He cares about all the things you care about because He cares about you.

God gave His people intricate details about the tabernacle and the temple because He cares about how we meet with Him. He gives us instructions on righteous living because He cares how we conduct ourselves. He wants to be a part of every detail of our lives, not to control us but because He loves us that much.

How was your day? Did you get angry when you were ignored? Were you aroused by that love-making scene on tv? Did you feel proud when your friend complimented your new handbag? Did I even think about God during the day?

For our struggle is not against enemies of flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Ephesians 6:12.

And those cosmic powers of darkness seep into our lives through the little things.

If I buy outdated seeds because they are cheaper, I will have a poor sugar snap crop. If I plant my tomatoes in the shade, they won’t produce well. If I don’t make the effort to water my plants, they will die. Little things with big consequences.

It does matter how I spend the next hour. It does matter how I talk to strangers, my friends, my family. It does matter what I worry about, what I strive for, what I seek after. So often, I don’t even take the time to determine that; I just act, like an animal running on instinct.

But these little battles matter. Every little win makes us stronger and loosens the tempter’s grip on us. Each time we call on God, each time we invoke the name of Jesus, each time we pray with the Holy Spirit, we claim a little more space for God to grow in us.

As we remove each rock of resentment, every stone of covetousness, and the weeds of worry, we create a beautiful garden for God to grow His fruit.

His master said to him, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.” Matthew 25:23.

The little things matter. The little things lead to big things, good or bad. You know this. I know this, but it is so easy to forget. It is so easy to think God doesn’t care about little things, like if I eat this whole bag of chips or if I call that person an idiot or if I watch that movie. He cares, friend.

He wants us to win every battle, seek first the kingdom (Matt. 6:33), and bring everything to Him in prayer (Phil. 4:6). For the little things make up the big things. The little things come first.

God cares about the plankton. He cares about the fish who eat it and the bigger fish who eat them. He cares about the fisherman who caught that fish and you who serve that fish to your family. He cares whether you thank Him for that fish.

Little things make a big difference.

Love in Christ, Betsy

What Will You Choose?

I love the God who created tomatoes and figs and oceans and sunrises and trees draped with Spanish moss.

It is harder for me to love the God that created that serpent and that forbidden fruit. But if He created everything and nothing came into being without him (John 1:3), then He also created cancer and leprosy and polio and covid and venomous sea serpents and poisonous mushrooms.

Why?

Perhaps to give us the opportunity to choose good, to choose to obey His voice, not be forced to do so by a lack of options.

Maybe God wants us to learn and discover what is evil, what we can do to avoid it, and how to battle its consequences. Maybe He wants us to learn about microbes and germs and discover cures and preventions. It starts with recognizing and understanding the things around us.

The world, the universe, is a treasure trove of gifts yet undiscovered. God has hidden them so that we may sense the thrill of discovery when we find them. Plants that thrive in austere conditions, planets that explode millions of miles away, germs that weasel their way into our dna strands. Research into those ‘challenging’ things that God has created has taught us about the universe – weather, germs, poisons, mental disorders. We have the choice to let harmful things have their way with us or make an effort to overcome them.

I always have the choice to act in my own self-interest or to act in love, putting other’s interests ahead of my own. God gave us this option by creating a world full of decisions to be made. He wants us to make the wiser choice. He even tells us what it is.

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourself. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Philippians 2:3-4.

Furthermore, God does not leave us to face these choices on our own. He’s here with us. He gave us instructions and advice, cautionary tales, and wise advisors. He sent His son to walk among us and show us how. He sent His spirit to live within us and help us choose rightly.

When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. John 16:13.

God created a beautiful, awesome, amazing world, but it is also full of perils, some hidden, some obvious. He calls us to be wise as serpents and gentle as doves (Matthew 10:16) and he calls us above all else to love each other (John 15:12 and 1 John 4:7-8).

God loves us so much that He gives us the option to choose rebellion, to put ourselves before Him and others. We can ignore His guidance. We can choose to walk in darkness and fulfill our own selfish desires. We can choose to sit idle when danger appears. Or we can choose to act in love. We can choose to accept that God created things we do not like, things that harm us and others, and people who challenge and threaten us. We can choose to see these as opportunities for growth. We can look for cures and preventions. We can choose to act in love toward those who challenge us.

There is so much we have yet to discover – about this world, about each other, even about ourselves. It starts with learning about the God created all of it, about His love for us. He calls us to share this love with His world, not just the parts we like, but, in wisdom, with the parts we fear.

We have the choice. Let’s choose love today.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Just Do It

For every inclination we have to ‘do something,’ we have an equal and opposite inclination to not do it. Call it the physics of human impetus. Sometimes that is our conscience or the Holy Spirit warning us of the potential hazards of an action. Sometimes it is our lazy selfishness or fearful anxiety that prevents us from moving forward.

Nike is urging us to overcome that second form of inertia. Don’t let laziness or selfishness or fear or anxiety stop you from stepping out in faith. Just do it. Plant the garden, plan the trip, make the call, take that first step. Just do it. (In Nike’s case, put on their shoes and exercise!)

I have had people tell me that they want a garden, but they don’t have one. They don’t have the room or the time. They have tried and failed in the past. It seems like too much work. Growing something doesn’t necessarily involve a lot of work unless you choose to let it. You can grow tomatoes in a pot on your balcony. You can grow herbs on your kitchen sink. Yes, you will get your hands dirty on occasion, and you must remember to water your plant, but beyond that, how large and diverse a garden you have is up to you.

What is necessary is the decision to do it. Carve out space in your yard. Buy a pot and a starter plant. Set aside a time to water. If you are concerned, unsure if your inertia is fear or sensible caution, start slowly. One plant. In a safe place.

The beauty of God’s creation is that He made the seed with the desire to become a fruit-bearing plant. Our “work” is simply to let it do what it was created to do. Our work is to clear out those things which prevent that seed from becoming all that it can be.

Your relationship with God, Father, Son, and Spirit, your spiritual growth, the manifestation of the Holy Spirit’s presence in your life is the same. We can make it seem like a big, difficult, time-consuming thing and make excuses for why we don’t invest in that relationship. Or we can set aside a small space on our counter or on the balcony and plant that seed.

Pray. List your concerns. Tell God your hopes and fears. Read His word. Listen to his voice. Have a conversation with Him as you would with a close friend. Give the seed of His Spirit within you a little space to grow, a little water.

He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly before your God? Micah 6:8.

It’s not a long, complicated list.

We may look at someone else’s huge, beautiful garden and think we could never do that. That may be true. God may not be calling you or me to do that. But that should not stop us from growing basil on our windowsill. The fact that some are called to be missionaries in difficult situations should not stop us from taking ten minutes in the morning to sit and talk with God.

Just do it.

Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rains fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on that rock. Matthew 7:24-25.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Possibilities

A new year, a blank page, a barren garden – anything can happen. The possibilities are endless.

Will I repeat what I did last year or will I plant something new and different this year?

There have been years when it took all my effort just to repeat in some form what was done before. There have been years when I started the year tired and fearful of the days ahead. (A few years I started hungover…) There were years I dreaded what might fill the pages of my calendar, change I didn’t want but couldn’t stop from happening.

But this year, this new calendar, this barren garden speaks to me of possibilities.

And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.” Revelation 21:5.

As Christians, we don’t need to wait for a new year, a blank calendar page, or some indefinable point in the future. Today, in this moment, before the clock ticks the end of the year, God’s Holy Spirit is transforming us.

I am not the person I used to be. I am not who I was as a child, as a teenager, as a young adult, as a mother, last year, a few months ago, or even yesterday.

In my garden, garlic bulbs are forming underground, rocks are migrating to the surface, and nutrients are replenishing my soil. Just as the soil is being made new in my barren garden, so my life being made new every morning, every evening. The possibilities are endless.

No matter what I have planted in the past, I can plant something different this year. Or plant the same things in a new and better way. I can choose to keep the plants and methods that work and change the ones that don’t.

What a gift! Have you made bad decisions in the past? Today is a new day. Do you have regrets? Fears? Doubts? Has guilt or shame or doubt left you crippled and unable to move forward?

Jesus said to him, “Stand up, take your mat, and walk.” John 5:8.

Leave that place of limited possibilities. God has healed you. God has given you a new day, a new year, a barren garden. Go and plant new seeds, grow new things, become a new person, healed and able to move forward through the grace of God.

So, if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation. Everything old has passed away, see, everything has become new! All of this is through God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation. 2 Corinthians 17-18.

Happy New Year, friend. Happy new day, happy new garden.

Love in Christ, Betsy

A garden at Rest

I take my coffee and step outside, inhaling the cool morning air. Geese honk as they fly in formation against a cloudless blue sky. The grass is still green and wet with dew. Warm weather has kept the leaves green, but little pops of color are peeking through. October is a wonderful time to be outside.

I walk my garden, but there is nothing to see, nothing that demands my attention this morning. The basil still grows. I will need to make a batch of pesto before it gets too cold for the plant, but not today. My raspberry and fig still bear fruit, one fig and three or four raspberries a week. Nothing to pick this morning, but their perseverance impresses me.

Soon I will need to pull up the old cardboard and lay a tarp over the ground for the winter. This is a technique one of you suggested as an alternative method of reducing weeds (Thanks LS!), but it won’t happen today.

Today, my garden and I are at rest.

Not all my idleness is restful. Often, I am caught up in books or movies or football games and the hours spent sitting leave me exhausted, or worse, agitated. This is what the people in Jesus’ time were missing about the Sabbath. The rules that kept people idle had generated so much stress that the Sabbath was no longer restful, no longer a day of rest.

Rest comes from the confidence that God has our situation in His hands, and He loves us. It is not always time to plant, to harvest, to work in the garden. Sometimes, it is time to rest.

I can’t speak for you, but rest is hard for me to accept. I want to wrest my situation from God’s hands, take charge, devise a plan, and make it happen. Why put anything off until tomorrow? The world in which I live supports this kind of thinking. We are supposed to be doing something, striving toward a goal, expanding our social group, moving up through the ranks, being all that we can be.

For a few years, when people asked me what I did, I said “Nothing.” You can imagine the reactions I got. I later amended that to say, “I entertain myself well.” Now I say I write, but that always leads to questions about publication and what I am working on and my plans for the future. Perhaps I should say I’m at rest.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Matthew 11:29

This time of rest is good for the garden. Plants take nutrients and water from the soil, and the earth needs time to replenish these. All the little critters and microorganisms in the ground need uninterrupted time to turn dirt into nutrient-rich soil. The garden at rest is not idle; it is resting. Similar to what happens when we sleep, the garden at rest is busy below the surface.

The world can’t see it. I can’t see it. But I know God is in action preparing the garden for the future demands I will make on it. Like sleep prepares us for the next day. Like this time of rest prepares me for what God has in store for me.

For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life. Ephesians 2:10.

Will you join me and my garden and rest today? No stress, no agitation, no wresting your life out of God’s hands. Just rest. Breath in the cool air. Listen to the geese. Admire the cloudless blue sky. Trust God. He created this world, and He loves you.

Love in Christ, Betsy

A Ripe Fig

I’m tired, y’all.

That seems a poor way to start the “school year,” but as I age my year seems more attuned to my garden than to my kids’ activities.

My garden has been put to bed for the fall. Last year the tomato plants survived into September, but not this year. Brown leafless twigs, I pulled them up. My garden is ready for a rest, and so am I.

I have dedicated this year to learning about the publishing industry, especially as it pertains to publishing works of fiction. I have a renewed appreciation for anyone who has navigated this mine field successfully, for someone who has actually been paid to produce their book.

I have met hundreds of authors who have published books I have never heard of and authors who have published thirty, sixty, over one hundred books that I have never read, and I read a lot. Publishers purchase only three percent (three percent!) of the manuscripts they receive. There are also manuscripts that publishers buy but never publish for one reason or another. And yet there are thousands of published books that never cross my line of sight. When I see an author selling her book at a conference, I feel an urge to support them, filling my bookshelves with even more books to read someday.

All this to say that I am eager to return to my old life – card games and gardening, resting, and reading and enjoying meals with my friends.

And like a gentle reminder, I returned from my sixth writers conference this year (ugh!) to find ripe figs in my garden. Just a few. Just enough to let me know that dead as my garden is, God is not done with it yet.

Only one fig is ripe enough to eat today, dark red and soft to the touch. I left the soft pith melt in my mouth as its sweet juice entices my tongue, then enjoy the satisfying crunch of its tiny seeds. Heavenly. A gift. Fruit in a barren garden.

So, here is the question I plan to ponder this fall: When we fail to accomplish whatever goal we have set for ourselves, what is the lesson?

Is the goal unreasonable?

Is the timeline unrealistic?

Are my methods incorrect?

Is my work inadequate?

Do I double down or pivot to something new?

Is this goal in God’s plan or a selfish desire?

All this is because I have drafted a novel and would love to have a publishing house buy it from me, but there is little evidence to indicate that it will happen. The garden looks dead and ready to rest for the winter.

There are ripe figs in this barren land however, sweet moments that remind me that God is not done with me yet. I savor those gifts.

And I cannot begin to thank you for reading this, sharing this, commenting on my posts, and emailing me. Many times, your comments are the sweet figs that keep me going. Thank you.

Finally, as I enter this time of rest and reflection, I am feeding my soul-soil with scripture. Maybe these words from God will speak to your soul as well.

But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Matthew 6:33.

Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain; unless the Lord guards the city, the guard keeps watch in vain. Psalm 127:1.

Whatever your task, put yourself into it, as done for the Lord and not for your masters. Colossians 3:23.

May you find a sweet fig in an otherwise barren garden today.

Love in Christ, Betsy

A Little Change

I’ve had a problem with my lawn service this summer. They come when I am not home. And their mower sprays grass clipping all over my garden plants.

If I were home when they were mowing, I would ask them not to do this. I’m not sure why this is even so much of a problem this year since it hasn’t been in the past. Perhaps they have a new mower, but the problem may be mine. Since I did not pull up all my landscape timbers last year, they have sunk lower into the ground. Several of them are rotting away. The accumulation of grass clipping has hastened this process.

I could text my mower about the problem. I considered replacing all the landscape timbers. But I decided instead to edge the garden with a taller “clipping barrier.” Of course, the stores don’t carry foot-tall edging, so I had to order a trial sample to see if it would work. I like the look.

This edging may help with critter control as well. It’s different. Time alone will tell if it’s better.

My daughter, who works with ministry innovators, often writes about how change often happens slowly, develops through necessity, and occurs when we are focusing on something else. I look at my garden as the sixth summer without my husband draws to a close and I see change.

The bones of my garden are the same. Same poles, same fence posts, same location. But I no longer dismantle it; I no longer let the garden return to grass every year. I have perennial fruit trees and herbs. I pay helpers to assist me. And now I have foot high edging. I am adapting, slowly, by necessity, to gardening without him.

All in an effort to bear fruit.

There’s a lot of discussion about change in the church. When is change necessary to bear fruit for God and when is it conforming to the world? Jesus was an agent of change. He ate with simmers, broke sabbath laws, and overturned the tables in the temple.

The pharisees and their scribes were complaining to his disciples, saying, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?” Jesus answered, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I have come to call not the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” Luke 5:30-32.

The established church leaders didn’t like the change. And Jesus didn’t stop at changing the status quo. He sent the Spirit to live within us and change our focus, our attitudes, our actions, and our lives. He takes our established garden and slowly transforms it into a more gracious, more loving, more fruitful place.

Several hundred years ago, women who used herbs to cure ailments were considered witches. Now it’s a multi-million-dollar business. Most Christians have no qualms putting aloe on a burn, drinking chamomile tea to relax, or taking garlic to reduce cholesterol. Some Christians even advocate turning away from established medicine to more homeopathic remedies. They should be grateful the church no longer labels them witches for this.

Is God calling you to make some changes this fall?

Perhaps minor changes like a better edging around your garden space, a more sacred quiet time alone with the Lord, a more intentional effort to keep the litter at bay.

Maybe He is calling you to make a radical change, eat with sinners and social outcasts, try an herbal remedy, go against established church tradition.

I pray that God will always keep me open to the changes He calls me to make. I pray that He will continue to call me, sinner that I am. And I pray that He will bear His fruit in my life and in yours.

Love in Christ, Betsy

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