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The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.

-Lamentations 3:25

 Jane Crain's Story-

“I would never date Jim Crain”–real words that came out of my mouth (at one time prior to me marrying the man).

I hear and read statements made by our young ladies that “I can’t find that great guy” or “When will the right guy come along?” ….. I am amazed that girls start so young talking about having and needing boyfriends. They seem to feel that they need a boyfriend to make them feel beautiful or popular.

I have been married to Jim Crain for 20 years this last May.  He is a wonderful man and a great husband and father.  But I had to wait a long time for him to come into my life.  I was 32 when I married and there were some hard years while waiting on that “right” guy to come along–wondering if he ever would.  There were many tears shed and many nights of feeling unloved.

  I always prayed when I dated that it would work out if it was God’s will.  Well, it never did until…Jim Crain came along. It was a surprise; we cannot tell you when our first date was. We just became friends and the friendship became a dating relationship which turned into our marriage relationship.

While I was waiting for Jim, I wondered often what was wrong with me or what I needed to change to find someone.  One day I realized that if I wanted the “right” guy, I needed to be the “right” girl.  I had to be whole and love myself alone and then I could be whole and love myself with someone else.

God can send that “right” guy to you at any time—some marry right out of high school and some wait until later. There is no proven formula. Just make sure the guy you find treats you in a way that glorifies God – you deserve it because you are His daughter!  Try to listen to that inside Holy Spirit voice that will lead you and guide you on the right path.

Originally from Northeast Texas, I met and married my husband at FBC Texarkana.  I like watching soccer and marching bands.  I also enjoy reading and doing needlepoint.

What's your story?  Please send your story, a treasured recipe or your thoughts to kristiburden@gmail.com .  Girls of all ages are encouraged to share.  I anxiously await hearing from you.  And don't forget to come back next week for "A Thursday for Your Thoughts".

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It's Solo Time

My brother David called me about a month ago saying he had found a picture; one he said could be used in my blog.  The picture is of the Iredell Drill Team around 1985.  This premier group of young ladies highlighted most every sporting event in our town.

Every right-aged girl in town was in the Iredell Dragon Drill Team.  I was a privileged member of this group. Anyone could be a part of the team, but certain skills were necessary to publicly perform.

I attended every practice.  I listened to the instructor and watched closely as she "step-ball-changed".   I also watched the girls beside me every chance I got; mimicking their moves the best I could.

There was a tryout for each routine.  Come tryout day I always marched and kicked nervously counting as I was taught; I carefully stepped the grapevine (the only move I seemed to have down).

The tryout procedure was- if you make three mistakes, you sit yourself out.  You don't perform at games and you don't go to competition. I always made three mistakes. I can remember performing a few times.  I suspect that I cheated on my mistake-counting those times.

I don't know if you were able to spot me in the picture above, but here's a hint.  I'm on the first row.

I'll give you an even better hint.

I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS HER LEGS CROSSED THE WRONG WAY.

Underneath that gorgeous gold uniform complete with fringe and the proud smile was a girl with two left feet  Even if my uniform made me look like a dancer, as soon as the music started to play the gig was up.

Too bad I didn't learn from my dance days.  I still find myself wanting to do what others are doing; closely mimicking their image and steps instead of being exactly who God made me to be.

I know I'm not the only one.

Those who have straight hair want curly, those who have curly hair want straight, those who have brown hair want their hair to be red. I remember being delighted when recently, hair with the big bump at the back of head became "the way to do your hair".  I have naturally big hair.  But for others "Bump-its" were available; a plastic piece hidden underneath fluffed hair so that you looked like you had a glorious full- head of hair.

The way we look is only one way we try to conform.  I want to sing in the choir.  I want to be funny.  I wish I could draw or paint well. 

There's absolutely nothing wrong with me singing in choir or taking painting lessons UNLESS it interferes with what God has equipped and called me to do. You will often serve in ways that are hard; doing things you're not good at-in His strength. But also pay attention to how God has uniquely put you together.

 If God has gifted you with a voice, sing for him. If you're a gifted performer, put on your fringed gold vest and skirt- and dance to his glory. 

Treasure the gifts that God has chosen specifically for you; he's the ultimate gift-giver. If you're convinced that you have no gifts or talents to share, you're underestimating Almighty God.  Seek Him.  He'll show you that you're wonderfully made and cherished just as you are.

The Lord your God is with you,

He is mighty to save.

He will take great delight in you,

He will quiet you with His love,

He will rejoice over you with singing.

Zephaniah 3:17

 

 

Listen for him too.

He sings a tune that only you can dance to.

 

 

 

 

So what's your story?  Consider sharing even if just a chapter.  There's beauty and sometimes learning, laughter and healing in the sharing. That's what "A Thursday for Your Thoughts" is all about.  If you'd rather share a recipe or favorite family event, we'd love that too.  It's as simple as sending me an email (and a couple of pictures if your technologically savvy).

Come back tomorrow as Jane Crain gives us a peek into her life.

I'd love to hear from you kristiburden@gmail.com

 

 

 

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Twenty years ago I accepted a dare that would change my life.

I had just started my Senior year.  And I had big plans; plans that would take me to Howard Payne University in Brownwood Texas.  I would follow in my parents' and my sister's footsteps in attending.  I was going to become a teacher and find myself a preacher.  We would get hitched and have a mess of kids.

The weekend of August 28, 1992, my family had plans to go to Lake Brownwood.  I was told I could bring a friend.  I remember thinking that my friends were probably busy.

So my mom, with my sister's encouragement dared me to ask a certain dark-haired, green-eyed Junior to the lake.  This was unheard of.  My mother didn't really encourage the girl chasing the boy, but she and my sister had decided the Spring before that he was a nice looking guy who seemed nice too.

Funny thing is, I had dated him a few times in the Spring and I had a different opinion.  Still, who was I to pass up a good dare?

...And I'd been wrong before.

I dialed up his number and waited.  I asked.  He hesitated, then said yes.

So Jason Burden, on a Saturday morning loaded into the Fowler Suburban with the family.  He was bombarded all day with my nieces wanting piggy back rides and questions from cousins. Being super vain, I remember worrying because swimming had destroyed my perfect hairdo and any make-up I had on. I was sure it wasn't going well.

In the car on the way home, he slipped an arm around me.  My mom, who remembers looking in the rearview mirror, was SURE that wouldn't go well either since she was unsure if I liked him.

To her surprise and mine.....the day went well.

It's been twenty years since that first dare, and what I consider that first REAL date.

I'm glad I accepted the dare

-Glad he accepted the date.

And that.....is the truth!

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School is almost here again.  I still remember the days of getting "school ready".  Of all the things on the school supply list, my favorite school supply was and is crayons.  I love the smell of a fresh box of crayons.  I love the pointed tip of a brand new, unused crayon.  I remember the year that my mom bought me the biggest box of them the store had.  I think there were 96 colors in the box.  And get this....the box had its own built-in crayon sharpener in the back.

I love color.

I love color that is bold.

I love color that is bright.

I love color that stays.

Picture a new box of crayons in your hands.  The box is nice and sturdy at first.  Each crayon fits in its space perfectly.  You just can't wait to make a masterpiece with the contents.  And maybe you do.  Maybe you make a month's worth of masterpieces.  But everybody knows what happens to a box of crayons in no time.

The sharp point begins to dull.

All of sudden there's less room in the box; the crayons won't fit right.

You have to peel back your crayon's perfect wrapper as it goes flat and stubby.

Crayon's break.

And you can't find your favorite color, the one you need to color the ocean on your map.

At some point, the bottom falls out of the box and your crayons spill on the classroom floor in front of everybody.

So how do you keep crayons looking sharp and bright? How do you keep them in one piece?

The only way I can think of is to NOT use them.

You may or may not have crayons on your supply list, but how do WE "ourselves" stay bold and bright in the upcoming school year? How do we stay in one piece.

By the opposite.

God wants to use us; and I mean use us daily.

Each of you is a unique and beloved color in God's crayon box. Go on and place yourself in his hands.  He'll use you in making unbelievable beauty.  Crayons shrink when being used; not the case with us.  Our brightness grows as we allow God to use us. He will want you to sit with the new girl. He will want you to bring beauty to conversations that might otherwise have bad color.

And remember, he doesn't want you to be the same color as the one beside you. How boring would that be? He made you unique for a reason. Be bold.

He has each of you in the space where you belong.  You may not be with all of the friends you had last year, but that's ok. Be vibrant anyway.

Like a used-up crayon there may be times when you feel dull and maybe even broken.  You may be expecting for the bottom of the box of life to fall open spilling you on the floor.  If you know that feeling, don't fear.

God has a perfect hold on you.

He wants you to live a life of color.    In God's hand, be bright to those around you.  You're the color he wants in his work of art.

And remember, if you've done your graduating and supply lists are a thing of the past-

You're still never too old to color!

 

 

 

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by Christy Zenon

My mom and stepfather celebrated their 27th wedding anniversary a couple of weeks ago. Every year at this time, I am reminded of what a good marriage theirs is. Having seen so many years together, they have a wealth of knowledge to share with me.

I have asked my mom, “What makes your marriage work?” The first answer she always gives is, “Work. It takes a lot of work to stay together.” Having been married myself, I now know the work that it takes.

You have to be able to compromise and even sometimes agree to disagree. This is hard for me to do. I am a very bull-headed, stubborn person. I like to be right…..all of the time… even when I’m wrong. This does not translate well to ANY relationship! I have a hard time letting go of the problem at hand and admitting when I’m in the wrong. Compromise is a bit easier. If we can both come to an agreement and meet in the middle, all the better!

My mom and stepdad are also best friends. This may sound like the simplest thing in the world, but some couples just don’t seem to have the friendship thing down before walking the aisle. Mom and Mike, that’s my stepdad, were very good friends for a while before getting married. They spent a lot of good quality time together before jumping into marriage. They took the time to have fun and get to know each other.

As a matter of fact, even so many years later, they are still getting to know each other and learning new things all the time.

Another thing that they always, always do is consult each other before ANY decision. Neither mom nor Mike makes too much of a move before speaking with the other. I never understood this is a teenager. Why did my mother have to involve Mike in decisions that I asked her about??? Now, as an adult, I get it. Whatever she does affects him.  Same goes with decisions that he makes.  There is discussion, and often times compromise when it comes to decisions!

One last thing: probably the most important thing. My parents always had God in their marriage.  We prayed before every meal. Every time the church doors were open, we were there. I’ve seen them kneel at the altar before. God was and is a very important presence in their home.

I’ve watched through the years, the acts of kindness and generosity that my parents have shown to others and each other. Not a day goes by where Mike does not do something nice for my mom, and vice versa.  You can see and feel the Christian love between them.

Yes, there will be arguments and disagreements. Yes, there will be angry words said. However, these are temporary. Each person in a relationship needs to learn to be willing to lose sometimes. (I’m speaking to myself, too… seriously, this is an issue with me!)  In the long run, the basis of the arguments or disagreements is not that big of a deal.

In the whole scheme of things, all that matters is the friendship and love between the couple and between the couple and the Lord.

As I said before, every year on my parents’ anniversary, I am reminded that true love DOES exist and there is someone out there for all of us! We just have to wait, be patient, and trust that God can instill in us the things needed to make that special relationship work.

-For my parents’ anniversary, I made a string-art letter representing their last name.
It is an inexpensive project that requires very little. There are other variations of this kind of art, but I used the cheapest variation I could find!
Items needed:
1. Small piece of plywood- I used 2ft x 2ft (pine, I think)

2. A box of small nails- (1/2 inch to 1 inch) you are not going to drive them all of the way through, but you need enough leeway to wrap string around

3. Spray paint

4. Embroidery thread- I used four of the little skeins that you can find for under $1.00 each at most places. First, I spray painted the plywood. I probably could have waited until after putting the nails in, but I didn’t. (You’ll see why I could have waited later.)
Second, I drew my pattern in pencil onto the board. This was a little tricky as I free-handed it, however you can use a stencil.
Third, I hammered the nails along the edges of the pattern (letter). I had no certain pattern, I just put them fairly close together along the lines.
Fourth… here is where I could have waited. I spray painted over the board once again.. .getting the nails this time.  I spray painted until all of the nails were covered and matched the board.
Fifth, was my favorite part. I tied the string to one of the corner nails and started wrapping around the other nails. At first, I had no set pattern in mind, but I fell into a rhythm and it ended up being pretty uniform (except for a couple of parts!). When I got to the end of the skein, I tied it off and started a new one. The ends gave me a bit of a problem, but I just cut those off as close to the nails as possible and tucked the remainder.

It’s as easy as that! It takes a little time, but it is easy and affordable! I hope you enjoy this project as much as I did!

Who is Christy Zenon?

I am a single mother, insurance agent, and part-time student.  I am just now at 34 discovering my love for crafts...Late, I know!  I don't do much in my spare time.  I like to read books, yes they still make them.  I like to surf the internet and learn new things.  (I spend way too much time doing just that) All of that side, I am a work in progress.  I am learning new things about life and myself everyday.  God is certainly not finished with this girl yet!

 

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This week I paid a fortune (in gas) to go back to my roots; the trip was well worth it.  Memories like diamonds glistened as the kids and I traveled back west to my hometown Iredell-population 336.  I showed the kids where I went to school and where I taught when Hayden was just a baby.  I showed them the old grocery store where I worked as a teen.  I remember getting my first rose from Jason working there one Sunday.  Jason and I bought our first house in Iredell.

We drove by my Granny's house and took pictures in front of my dad's air filter shop.  Both structures are aging.  But it is the cracked paint and crumbling stone which reveal a history rich in beauty.

It is in my Granny's house that I remember baking my first (and only ) apple pies.  I took the kids down the now overgrown road where my cousin and I sold those apple pies.  I recounted how Leah and I had just rounded the corner when we watched our first customer feed her apple pie to her horse.  It was at that moment we wondered if we might should have peeled the apples.

My dad's shop is where I learned to work; I mean the kind of work that brings about sweat. I can remember the feeling of pride upon receiving payment that was well-earned. I smile thinking that my impatience is inherited from my dad as I hear his voice in my ear urging me to move faster.  "The sun is going burn out in a hundred million years, You'll be finishing in the dark... " he would say as he urged me to make filters faster. The old smells of chipboard dust which once held no meaning now fill my senses with sweet memories.

We took a trip to Hico to see Jason's grandmother who we fondly refer to as Bebe.  In the tree out front the banana fairy didn't disappoint.  Regardless of the weather she faithfully leaves a banana in the front yard for each kid.  And as always Bebe's dining room table was dressed finely as if to greet us.  The kids and I scanned each wall looking at old pictures, not to miss the one of their dad at the age of four wearing a Texas-size bow tie and tux.

On to Brownwood with my mom in tow, we spent time with my sister and her family.  We visited with Meme and Grandad.  I hardly think about them without reflecting how time at their house always resembles the feeding of the five thousand.  There is always room and food for one more in their little cabin.

I sit now in the house where I grew up.

It seems smaller now though the memories created here loom large in my mind.  Tomorrow morning we'll pack up and drive down the bumpy dirt road that takes us to town.  The dust beneath us, like the memories deep within us will be stirred and rise -forming a trailing cloud.  Slowly as we approach the paved road, the dust will settle.  And it will wait.  Because we'll be back.

 

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Had a blast tonight with these girls.  

Let me tell you what GG's is all about through one of my favorite things-PICTURES!

We make some nifty reminders of what we've learned about.  We have a Crafty Crew that we couldn't do without-Jeanne And Krista Bergeron.

Sometimes we make treats.  This time-CUPCAKES!  "Good things come to those who eat" (or something like that!)

We grow in our relationship with each other and God through devotion.  Kristina and Mikala are always awesome.  And we're SUPER excited that we have High School mentors joining GG's too.

And there's nothing like a good game to play!

I can't help but think that if God had a refrigerator, this picture would definitely be on it!

So let's do it-full of belief, confident that we're presentable inside and out.  Let's keep a firm grip on the promises that keep us going.  He always keeps his word.  Let's see how inventive we can be in encouraging love and helping out, not avoiding worship together as some do but spurring each other on, especially as we see the big day approaching.  -Hebrews 22-25  The Message

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He who forms the mountains,

creates the wind,

and reveals his thoughts to man,

he who turns dawn to darkness,

and treads the high places of the earth-

the LORD God Almighty is his name.

Amos 4:13

  We've been able to take a few afternoon trips to Crystal Beach this summer.  We've had the loveliest time.  This past trip Jason came out of the local store with a kite.  I was never much on kites as a kid because we lived near too many trees. Still I was excited about the possibility.

A nice strong wind on the beach encouraged us in our kite flying endeavor.  After we set up our beach camp, Jason tore the kite out of the bag.  He held on to the plastic handle bundled with string as Hayden held the kite.  I watched as Hayden tossed the kite in the air careful to aim the nose in the direction of the wind. It fell as swiftly as it rose.  I switched my attention to the girls momentarily then noticed a minute later that the guys had the hang of it.

Later in the afternoon, when no one was watching, I took my turn with the kite.  I held on to the handle wound with string and then tossed the kite carefully with the other hand only to find the kite flightless. 

Determined, I continued in my effort.

Instead of tossing the kite, I slightly lifted it- gently offering it to the wind.  And the wind knew what to do.

Slowly, the current of air wrapped itself around the wings and softly took the kite.

I unwound the string from the handle according to the demand of the wind.  The higher the kite was, the more quickly I was forced to release more string.  Before I knew it, the kite was soaring. My fingers wrapped tightly around the handle, I held on to "my kite" as it danced.

But as I watched it in flight I soon came to a realization. I  wasn't really in control nor had I been in control. The kite was being held and guided by the current.  My firm grip on the handle only served to keep the kite from escaping from me.

In time,  I let go of the handle so that the kite could be tied to the firm base of our canopy. I continued to watch proudly and with admiration as the kite changed directions; as it dipped and then soared higher.

And then I turned to watch my children play, suddenly aware that a time will come when they too will soar.

 

Favorite Beach pictures from this Summer

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by Cindy Huff

On August 15, I celebrate the birth of my baby.  Those of you who know me, may see me at GG's with my 10-year-old daughter Kathryn.  I love my girl to the moon and back!  (Like we all do!!)  I try to tell her this every day, no matter what kind of day we have had.  Kathryn is not the baby whose birthday I celebrate every August 15.

Before God blessed me with my sweet girl, I was pregnant with my sweet, first-born boy.  My first pregnancy was rolling right along as normal with the dreaded morning sickness every day, my clothes were getting smaller, I had daily mood swings, but there was also this new joy I had never experienced before, those tiny movements inside me that indicate life is in the making!!

Oh how magical these were!  I looked forward to them each day.  There was nothing quite like those tiny flutters that changed to kicking feet!  I couldn't wait to be a mother!!  My own sweet mom marked each passing month with a card for me telling me we were one month closer!

But one day, all the treasured movements inside me stopped.  Completely.  It happened on a weekend, and I didn't think much of it at first, because I was pretty small still, felt physically fine otherwise, and I figured the baby was turned another way.

But a trip to the hospital the following Monday for an ultra sound confirmed my worst fear, and something I did not expect on this day, my growing bundle of joy had passed away.  With no warning, and no real symptoms.

How devastated I was, as I was due to give birth to my boy three months later.  I began to ask, "Why God?  I teach your children at school each day, wouldn't I make a great mother?  Why was I allowed to get so far in my pregnancy?"  We even had a cute little nursery set up and a going home outfit bought.

It hit me that I would never know if he would love sports or music, or both.  Would I be getting ready today for baseball, football, or band camp now? Some of these things I will never know, and don't need to.

But I know being pregnant with Ryan taught me many things.  I learned to love in a completely new, unselfish way!  This is an amazing gift from God I believe.  I had nurturing, motherly instincts from the day of his birth onward, that I wouldn't have had otherwise.  I had more compassion with my students at school, because now I viewed those students I taught as someone else's baby.

God's love for me was put in a different light as well.  He gave His own Son for forgiveness of my sins.  This was so hard for me to comprehend at this time more than ever as I couldn't imagine giving my child up voluntarily for another!  How awesome that makes His love for us, His children!

Things would be totally different now and my life would never be quite the same, this much I knew.  So I quit asking questions, and tried to build on my faith in God.  I trusted my prayers would be answered in His time.  I began to see the face of God everywhere after this tragedy in my life.

He was shown to me through my immediate family and parents who stepped up to make decisions I couldn't make at that time.  He was shown to me through the kind, compassionate nurses and doctors who cared for me in the hospital.  He was shown to me through the funeral home staff.  He was shown to me through the many prayers, cards, words of kindness, and meals we received from people in our family, church family, coworkers, and friends.  He was shown to me by those who just sat with me and didn't say a word when milestones that should have happened did not.  I learned that I was by far not the only one to experience this.

I want to be the face of God to another mother in the future who may go through this as well.  I may never be a mother to a son again, but I know those few months with Ryan were among the best in my life!  I am confident knowing he is in Heaven resting in Jesus' arms.

Meanwhile, I have a beautiful daughter who is growing every day and needs my guidance and compassion in these formative tween years.  She needs to see the face of Jesus through me as often as possible.

Our role as a mother is an awesome responsibility, and an incredible gift from God.  I have considered myself a mother since Ryan was conceived.  I continue to think of him often, and wonder what he would be doing, and how handsome he would be.  I bet he would be causing a little trouble every now and then too!!

It is a little easier to deal with as time passes, and I finally allowed myself to be ok with not thinking of him every day.  I learned this does not mean I will ever forget my son.  It means I gave myself permission to move on with my life and be the kind of wife and mother God wants me to be now.

As I do every year, I will take a few minutes on his birthday to go through his keepsake box and look at the things I have kept that are his, and the cards and little gifts we received.  I will visit the cemetery and put flowers on his headstone.

But I also plan to do something for someone in need on Ryan's birthday.  I am praying now for God to lead me to a person that needs a blessing.  I am learning to look for ways to be the face of Jesus to others as it was shown to me.   I believe that is what our loving God calls us to do!

 

My name is Cindy Huff.  I was born and raised in Nederland and I teach 2nd grade at Helena Park Elementary.  I love 2nd graders!  My husband is Freddie, who is a firefighter, and my daughter is Kathryn, who is 10 years old and will be a 5th grader at C.O. Wilson.  I love my wonderful family, and I am so thankful for them every day!  In my spare time, I enjoy some quiet time and getting into a great book.  I enjoy listening to various types of music as well.  I also really love to cook, and especially bake!  I am always searching for and trying out a new recipe!  I grew up at First Baptist Nederland, and have attended different churches in the past several years, but recently have began attending FBCN again.  We have met some great people, and look forward to meeting more!

 

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{Treat} older women as mothers, and younger women as sisters, with absolute purity.

-1 Timothy 5:2

 I have a big family; an awesome family (Jason's family included). I am thankful for two sisters and two sisters in-law.  I am blessed to have grandmothers and a host of nieces and cousins.

 When Jason and I married we lived within ten miles of our entire family.  Our parents' house helped us to escape the Ramen Noodle Dinners we had at home.  I never went to Wal-Mart alone.  And even the ladies at church were extended family.

But as I believe God would have it, we have moved three times.  Each time our move has taken us to a bigger place, and a place farther from home.  We are now nearly 400 miles from all of our family.

As soon as I find my new comfort zone I feel as if I'm being stretched again. 

If you look up "small town girl" on google images surely you would find my picture. I'd be the girl with a ponytail, jeans and in flip-flops buying Dr. Peppers ,bread and bologna at the corner store. 

I am simple......in the most complex way.

You see, I feel most confident sharing life with those who know me. They know my quirks and weaknesses, but accept me as I am.  I fear rejection.  I sometimes feel misunderstood.

Yet I feel compelled.

I feel compelled to meet new people, make new friendships.  Putting yourself out there can be awkward, but it's worth it.  In sharing life, its beauties and struggles, I have learned that most of you can relate.  You're in the same boat, or once were.  Even if my struggle is unique, I know that there are those of you out there who will lift up a silent prayer on my behalf.

As I've been stretched to meet people of all ages with different backgrounds I've found a common thread.  Girls from nine to ninety from every walk of life have a need for friends. 

We all need friends who share their faith.  And I'm pretty sure there are times for all of us that we need to borrow a little faith.  Though we're women working toward noble character, we still need girls to laugh with. I am thankful for times we can sit on the couch or stand by our cars in the parking lot and talk about important matters.....or talk about nothing. I'm thankful for the times that you know when I need an encouraging smile or a hug.

But I am compelled to seek friendships that extend beyond.

  I have this persistent thought within me that there are some of us who aren't able to chat in the parking lot. Maybe like my sisters and mom, there are miles of distance between us.   That distance can be defied!

I have found through time and providence that I have an ever-increasing spiritual family. 

{Treat} older women as mothers, and younger women as sisters, with absolute purity.

-1 Timothy 5:2

 

A Thursday for Your Thoughts.

Each Thursday I would love to highlight someone different.

 I pray that we would grow together.

But more than anything, I pray that this space would bring much-deserved glory to our God who is with us.

Please consider sharing:

Your testimony        A beloved family story

A memorable family activity

A struggle        Scripture that has especially touched your heart

A recipe        A craft

A book review.....................

Include pictures if you can.

There is no age range. Writing skills unnecessary.  Girls from all over.   SHARE.

I'm biting my nails in anticipation waiting to hear from you!

Send your contribution in a Word document to my email.  Also, shoot me an email if you have any questions.

  kristiburden@gmail.com