Tag Archives: Jesus

Let Me Be Your Mirror

Posted in My Crazy Life by

“Why did God make me this way?” I lamented, as I looked at the make-up-free, acne-spotted reflection staring back at me.  “I am 34 years old!  Why am I still breaking out?!”

My less than perfect skin was just the tip of the iceberg of unreasonable complaints I was about to spew forth.  There was the stubborn 5 pounds that I could never seem to lose and those gray hairs that were starting to creep into my unruly red mane that is sometimes curly, and sometimes straight, but usually just frizzy, since with three little kids I often don’t have the time to style it. Continue reading →

Will You Hold Me?

Posted in Devotions by

“Mommy, will you hold me?”  My three and-a-half year old son whimpered and looked up at me with big pleading eyes.  He was sick and wanted to be snuggled.  How could I say no to those insistent baby blues?  “Sure buddy. I’d love to hold you.”

Despite his faucet of a nose, croupy cough, and feverishly hot body, I was honestly thrilled to hold him close.  Usually he is too busy running, wrestling, climbing, crawling, jumping, sliding… MOVING!   He has no time to sit still, let alone cuddle with his mom. Continue reading →

Overcoming Fear Through Faith

Posted in Devotions, Parenting by

School is in full swing and a new chapter has begun in the Engelhart story. My oldest son started all day, every-day Kindergarten a couple of weeks ago.  His little brother, who is three, started preschool last week.  And I try not to do a happy dance every time I wave goodbye.  I can usually contain the impulse, until they are out of view!

It’s not that I don’t love my children. I really and truly do with all of my heart!  But this mama can use a reprieve from the chaos that seems to be my every-day existence.  And for two days a week, for three solid hours, it’s just me and my one year-old daughter.  It’s amazing how peaceful life can feel for a change. Continue reading →

Parenting: A Call To Sacrifice

Posted in Parenting by

This morning my six-year-old son looked at me with big innocent blue eyes, a box of cereal in his hand, and with a voice as sweet as honey, asked me, “Mom, can you serve me at the table?”

I was a little surprised to say the least.  Not because he wanted me to bring him his breakfast at the table.  This isn’t an out of the ordinary event at our house.  It wasn’t even the cordial manner in which he asked, although that did catch me a little off guard.

I think it was his choice of words: “Serve me.” Continue reading →