We called last week "our turning point or breaking point". An autoimmune disorder building in our five-year old's system is wreaking havoc, exacerbating existing autism-related complications. We were losing sleep, and our son woke before 4am, requiring more than we had to give. The worst of us collided as we each found our end points.

I was up late recently, rattled by the twists and turns of parenting a child with special needs. A teething baby demanded comfort just as I started to settle. One hour of sleep later, it was time for a new day to start! There was a redeeming moment in the nauseatingly caffeinated day that followed. All three kids were in the car, and my four-year old was practicing the Bible verse we were learning. My teenager said…

The dramatic story of a paralyzed man being lowered before Jesus in Mark 2:1-5 always makes me wonder. The crowd was too big to get to Jesus, so his friends just went through the roof. I wonder how the man on the mat felt. He was fully exposed, could do nothing for himself, and the text never said anything about his faith. Did he believe? Was he afraid? What would Jesus say when he got down there? What would happen if He said no? It was a lot easier for his friends to lower him than raise him.

I laid next to my 2-year-old son last night and tried to read bedtime stories. He interrupted every word I said, unable to withhold his enthusiasm. He chattered and grinned, while bobbing a pacifier in his mouth like a cigar. I stopped and savored the moment, completely consumed with love for him.

For an instant, I felt like I was on the outside looking into something extraordinary. Love for my son was pulsing through me, despite his remarkable defiance and destruction that day. I spend days cleaning mess after mess, doing unseen and unappreciated tasks, and exchanging my needs for his. And last night, as that powerful love cascaded over me, I realized that I am the one truly experiencing God's love.

Recently, a friend asked for prayer as her intense workload was impacting her physically, mentally, and relationally. Soon after, on knees wobbling with insecurity, I shared a huge need and prayer request for our family. My overworked, exhausted friend replied immediately, suddenly overjoyed that God had allowed her project to "go off the rails" and require significant overtime. To her, his meant she could be a contributor to our family's big need.

It's 2025! May God bless you as you walk with Him and worship Him this year! I am beginning the year with grateful reflection. I will be sharing some of my favorite call to worships from the past during the month of January. Today's was originally sent on January 7, 2022.

It seems like modern society is more sensitive to accessibility than ever before. Smartphones come with features to support visual and hearing impairments. There are laws for structures and hiring to give every person an opportunity to access life in the fullest way possible.

We make decisions in our family to help our autistic son maintain access himself and important relationships. Even Christmas is accommodated so he can stay fully-engaged and our other children can enjoy him, each other and the reason for the holiday throughout the entire day.

John 3 tells of a Jewish leader coming to Jesus in the covering of the night. Baffled Nicodemus has the education and qualification behind his name to be considered an expert. Yet he humbly seeks Jesus, sure that this man of miracles has a more authentic power than him.

Jesus responds, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God... That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit." (John 3:3, 6)

I’m working on the edits for the Friday Call to Worship to become a book! It’s been more encouraging than I could have imagined to go back through the past years, walking week by week with the me who didn’t know a pandemic or special needs parenting was coming. I’m preaching to myself and, once again, in awe that God stays the same while I wobble through the weeks.

We are giving the e-book version of “Called to Worship” as a gift to our friends contributing to our fundraiser…

Our five-year old son has been talking about his end of year school concert for months. I took my seat in the concert hall this week, shouldering months of subconscious dread. His preschool is for children with special needs. I feared the toll performance pressure would take on the kids, overstimulation, and unlimited unknowns. I was overcome with the sheer possibility of our son feeling like he was physically unable to do something he really wanted to do, a familiar kind of torment.

Five years ago, I stepped into our front garden with a baby strapped to my chest. Rented tables with homemade placemats were set for 60. We served an American Thanksgiving dinner to our South African guests, choosing to give thanks while we didn't know our family's next steps. My husband and I relished in a garden full of laughter and warmth that day, never pausing to even taste the meal.

We ate leftover pumpkin pie in our garage late that night. It was a delicious and sacred moment, our own Thanksgiving faith-building feast when we didn't know what tomorrow held.

David is crowned king of all Israel in 2 Samuel 5, 22 long years after he was annointed future king. He ascended to the highest heights as a giant slaying, princess-marrying hero, and scraped rock bottom as a hated refugee, clipping a king's coat in a cave while he relived himself. (💩 happens in the Bible too! See 1 Samuel 24.)

A familiar enemy mobilized to capture David when he became king….

My American heart beats for turkey, dressing and pumpkin pie when the calendar turns to November. America's Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday for more than the food... but the food sure is good.

Thanksgiving dates back to 1621. One hundred Pilgrims set sail from England one year before seeking religious freedom. Winter came quickly and tragically, and half of the new colonists perished.

I abandoned breakfast table manners completely this week. My five-year old son is struggling to sit still. Every meal is a brutally painful process. So, instead of continually starting our morning with frustration and fighting, I have reformatted breakfast. I turn on worship music, put his breakfast at the kitchen counter, and he dance-eats while I pack lunchboxes. It has changed our morning story this week…

I've started compiling a collection of the Friday Calls to Worship for publishing. I never intended for a 300-word message to go beyond a WhatsApp to a few friends. It's been surprisingly encouraging to dip into the archives, walking week by week through a pandemic with a younger version of me, one who didn't yet know she was also in the thick of special needs parenting. It all started because I spent an enormous amount of time lying next to my toddler between 2020 -2022. I had to wait for him to be in a deep sleep and tiptoe out of his room….

My younger children's understanding of the world, time, relationships and life in general is fantastical, nonsensical and at the mercy of their moods. My five-year old measures time, height, days and all units of power in larger than life numbers like fifty-hundred-trillion-and-threeteen. He processes big ideas from the backseat, saying, "MOM, the days just keep GOING AND GOING". My favorite of his latest song lyrics are, "God has so much power, He doesn't have to shower. He never even gets diiiirrrrttyyyy."

We pray for our children to know their identities in Christ every single night. We cannot predict the twists and turns of life or understand the ways of the world. But they can withstand it all if they know who they are and Whose they are. We teach them Bible stories so they have testimonies to stand on when the waters start to rise.

The Israelites were caught between an army and an ocean, yet they walked through the depths on dry feet...

In 1951, researcher Nikolaas Tinbergen wanted to know if exaggerating a specific stimulus could impact behavior. He created cardboard replicas of butterflies that are attracted to their mates through color and movement. Tinbergen's cardboard butterflies were much brighter and designed to move more regularly than the actual butterflies they replicated. He found that male butterflies preferred the more stimulating cardboard butterflies than the living, breathing females next to them. Tinbergen called the cardboard butterflies"supernormal", or an exaggerated ("super") version, of a "normal" thing.

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want." (Psalm 23:1) King David wrote this shepherd's song with firsthand experience. Philip Keller is an author who knows the climate David wrote from and has also shepherded people and sheep. In, "A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23", Keller recounts story after story of lifesaving interventions for his flock, one ewe at a time. He unpacks the grueling work of protecting, providing and creating sustainable environments.

The Lord recently reminded me of a time I struggled with a damaged relationship. I asked Him "How do I let go of hurt and bitterness? What would You say to me?" A list of everything I was NOT exuding flashed through my mind: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Sound familiar? It's the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5. I turned to the famous chapter and found another list before that one.