I ventured out on a run. As my feet methodically hit the pavement, my mind turned inward, and not on productive thoughts. To put it bluntly, I was worrying, fretting, and moping. I regret to admit that the argument could easily have been made that I was throwing myself a pity-party.
I watched the funds in our bank account dwindle with every passing day. Abrupt recent changes to our economy had negatively affected both my husband’s and my job. We didn’t have much income on the horizon, and I was waking up daily with a sense of fear and restlessness about the future.
My pastor told us that we need to worship God with our lives all the time, instead of just living from one experience where we feel very close to God to the next...my question to you is how? How do I live in complete worship to God every day? How do I worship Him in everything that I do?
I’ve been participating in a fitness challenge at a gym nearby. I thought it would be kind of a fun motivation to get in shape. It is a point system, and you can win points in all different ways, from general attendance to keeping a food journal.
This month, my husband and I had a huge car repair bill and a big renewal fee for my real estate license, both due in the same week, on top of our regular monthly expenses. We are both in commission-based sales jobs, which definitely has its perks.
I sat on my bed in the attic of the little house in Nashville, wrestling with the reality that a lifelong dream was coming to an end. In the morning, I would be loading up the car to drive back home to Canada. Three months earlier, I had arrived in the city of my dreams with hopes to cut a record in the Christian music industry.
It was 1905. Seventeen-year-old Lillian Trasher stepped into the bustling editor’s office at a big-city newspaper, nervously clutching her sketchpad. Her heart beat excitedly at the flurry of activity around her as typewriters clicked and reporters scribbled furiously on notepads. Landing a lucrative job as a newspaper artist had been a long-time dream of Lillian’s.
There is an interstate here in Colorado that I really dislike driving on. It is busy almost all the time, and is known for its bad accidents. One day as I was driving on a particularly busy stretch of this road, I noticed the car next to me was getting dangerously close.
One evening recently I went out onto our front porch to water the hanging plants. I had forgotten to do it the day before, but figured they were probably okay. When I caught my first glimpse of them, I was somewhat surprised to see them looking dangerously wilted and dry.